A Cliché Christmas

That afternoon Weston picked us up to join the Jameses’ traditional Christmas dinner. Even though Savannah was still undergoing treatments, there was much to celebrate, like the Christmas pageant fund-raiser and bake sale, which had brought in more than double what we’d expected. Other than the book I planned to give Nan later that night, I hadn’t shopped for gifts. But this year, I didn’t feel the absence of fancy packages. Every possible hole in my heart had been filled, and I had never loved a Christmas Day more.

 

Hearing Savannah squeal at the sight of Weston’s dollhouse made my heart dance. It was beautiful, and so was she. Willa sat in the far corner and watched her daughter play while I said yet another silent prayer for the little girl’s mother. I longed to see her laugh and experience true joy once again.

 

Placing each piece of tiny doll furniture into Savannah’s house was the highlight of my day—that is, until Weston turned to me with mischief in his eyes.

 

“Georgia Cole . . . are you ready for your Christmas gift?”

 

“What? But I thought we—”

 

He held out his hand to cut me off. “Calm down, Miss Holiday Hype. Up until a couple of hours ago I didn’t think my present to you would happen. But I guess there is such a thing as a Christmas miracle.”

 

I stood up from my place on the floor with Savannah. “What are you talking about, Weston?” I gulped down the pounding that was lodged somewhere between my ribs and my chin.

 

In true Weston form, he sauntered toward me with a grin as outrageously wicked as it was glorious. He wrapped his arms around my waist and touched my nose to his.

 

“What would it take for you to stay here—in Lenox—with me?”

 

“Weston,” I whispered sadly. “We talked about this last night . . . for hours. I have to go back to LA, at least until I figure out—”

 

“And what if it’s figured out?”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

He stared into my eyes, and I gasped. “What did you do?”

 

“I didn’t do anything. I’m just the messenger. But I have it on good authority that Sydney Parker rescinded her offer for a certain theater in town. She’s decided to wait until she can get a permit to build.”

 

“What? How do you know that?”

 

“She called me right before you got here and told me to pass the message along to you.”

 

An overwhelming wave of joy washed over me as Nan, Willa, Savannah, and Weston’s parents hollered in glee. Tears rolled down my cheeks faster than I could swipe them away.

 

“I can’t believe it.” My words were hardly audible through my sobs, but Weston pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

 

“Believe it, Georgia. You were meant to live here as much as I was meant to love you. Merry Christmas.”

 

Through my tears, I kissed his face over and over again. “I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”

 

 

 

After leaving a voice mail for my mom wishing her and the family a Merry Christmas, I walked into the living room, where Nan sat.

 

“I have something for you, Nan.”

 

Her eyes crinkled as she shuffled over to me in her bathrobe and slippers, spiced apple cider in her hand. The party at the Jameses had wound down around nine. We’d just gotten back to her cottage.

 

“You know how I feel about gifts, Georgia.”

 

“And you know that I warned you, so sit down.” I patted the couch cushion beside me.

 

“What a bossy little thing you’ve become.”

 

She sank down beside me, and I laid the package in her lap.

 

“Open it, Nan. It won’t bite you.”

 

After placing her cider on the side table, she leaned forward and carefully tore the paper away. Her hand moved to her face as she gasped.

 

“Georgia . . .”

 

“This was my favorite book you ever read to me, Nan. It will always remind me of you.”

 

“Oh, sweet girl, those are some of my best memories. You in your pigtails and nightgown snuggled up with me on the sofa. I love it. I absolutely love it. Thank you.”

 

She ran her hand over the front and the back and carefully flipped through the pages.

 

“So?” I asked.

 

“So . . . ?”

 

“Well, I may not have pigtails anymore, but I would still love to hear you read. It is Christmas night after all.”

 

Nan’s eyes were wet with tears. “I’d love nothing more.”

 

Although I now had a new ending in my head—with Laurie and Jo married with kids—I would relish each word of the book that had won my heart so many years ago.

 

Nan pulled me close, and I rested my head on her shoulder.

 

She cleared her throat and began.

 

“Chapter One . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

Thank you to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for your never-ending, all-consuming love that brings both purpose and passion to each manuscript I write. My life is yours.

 

Thank you to my husband, Tim Deese, who continues to set the example of unconditional love in our home on a daily basis. You are my heart.

 

Thank you to Kristin Avila, who listens and supports my ridiculously dramatic (and usually impromptu) story ideas while waiting in dark parking lots, eating in breakfast diners, and soaking our feet at our favorite nail salon. I love you oodles, friend!

 

Thank you to Britni Nash, who continually talks me off the ledge and leads me back to solid ground. Our Nutella Nights must never cease. I’m so grateful for friends who feel like family.

 

Thank you to Amy Matayo, who chats with me, laughs with me, commiserates with me, and most importantly, mentors me in this unique and crazy art of writing. You are fabulous, and I will never stop fan-girling over you. Ever. I heart you!

 

Thank you to Lara Brahms, who wins the award for most read-throughs of A Cliché Christmas. I love the way you discuss my characters like real people. Your texts and e-mails are my delight!

 

Thank you to my BFFs: Kacy Koffa and Kim Southwick. For being there—before, after, and during. How did I get lucky enough to have two besties? I’m still not sure, but I’d never trade either of you. You’re my constants.

 

Thank you to my wonderful family—the Thomases and the Deeses—and to my faithful friends, who are scattered all over the world. Your encouragement, love, and support have meant so much to me this last year. Your comforting arms have been my anchor as I’ve grieved the loss of my baby sister, Aimee Thomas, who died on November 25, 2013, in a car accident. I love each of you deeply.

 

Thank you to my beta readers: Amy Matayo, Ashley Brahms, Breana Lewis, Britni Nash, Jennifer Fromke, Kacy Koffa, Kimberly Crank, Kim Southwick, Kristin Avila, Lara Brahms, Nicki Davis, Nancy Kimball, Rebekah Zollman, Renee Deese, Tammy Gray, Varina Denman. You complete me. (Insert cheesy smiley face here.)

 

And last, but by no means least, thank you to my readers. You inspire me to write stories from my heart by allowing me the opportunity to win yours each time you pick up one of my books. Thank you for taking a chance on me once again. I’m forever in your debt.

 

 

 

 

 

SPECIAL THANKS

 

Thank you to my editors: Georgia Varozza for an awesome first read-through edit, and Kristin Mehus-Roe at Girl Friday Productions for her expertise and time as she worked out the kinks so this final product could shine.

 

Thank you to Tammy Faxel and Dan Byrne at Waterfall Press for one of the best phone calls of my life. Your words of validation and enthusiasm for my future as an author are forever etched upon my heart. I’m humbled and honored to be working with such an amazing publishing house.

 

Thank you to my agent, Jessica Kirkland at The Blythe Daniel Literary Agency, who is one of the greatest and multifaceted blessings in my life to date. Your wisdom, your determination, your attention to detail, your faith-filled heart, and your encouraging friendship are just a few of the reasons I’m honored to be represented by you.

 

 

 

 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

 

Alcott, Louisa May. Little Women. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1869.

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

 

Photo ? 2014 Renee Deese

 

Nicole Deese is a lover of fiction. When she isn’t writing—or daydreaming about writing—she can be found curled up and reading on a sofa. She often fantasizes about “reading escapes,” which look a lot like kid-free, laundry-free, and cooking-free vacations. A girl can dream, right?

 

Her debut novel, an inspirational contemporary romance, All For Anna, has hit multiple milestones since its release in January 2013, including a 4.7 star rating on Amazon and more than 150,000 downloads on Kindle. She has since completed the Letting Go series and is elbow-deep in a new series featuring both sisterly love and swoonworthy romance.

 

Nicole lives in Frisco, Texas, with her hunk of a husband, Tim, and her two rowdy boys, Preston and Lincoln.

Nicole Deese's books