One Imperfect Christmas by Myra Johnson Page A

Maybe Nettie, or—I know—Nuttie!”
     
    She slammed her open palm on the desk. “Just stop. Things are crazy enough around here without your juvenile kidding around.”
     
    He snorted. “Girl, you need to lighten up. I was only—”
     
    “I mean it, I'm swamped, and I don't have time for this … for your … ” She didn't intend for her voice to break like that. If she gave in to her churning emotions, she'd never get through the day, much less the Christmas season.
     
    She cleared her throat. “All the businesses in town want their end-of-year promos printed and in the mail this week. At this rate I'll never get done.”
     
    Stiffening her spine, she wrestled her attention to the computer screen. She adjusted the font size on a line of text and studied the overall effect—just the right blend of whimsy and sophistication. Miss Fellowes at Moonbeams Bookstore should be pleased. She saved the file and password protected it.
     
    Hart broke the strained silence. “You've got to come, Nat. Dad will be crushed if you don't. He's been planning this for days.”
     
    “Oh, Hart … ” The slanting afternoon sun glinted through the fake snow her recently hired assistant had sprayed around the edges of the office window—one more holiday reminder Natalie wished she could have avoided. But Deannie, who also happened to be Jeff Garner's niece, apparently had nothing more productive to do, like maybe helping Natalie get caught up before the holidays.
     
    She mentally shook herself and tried to keep her voice steady. “Please, Hart, don't make me do this.”
     
    More silence.
     
    Then, “Ah, I get it. It's because Dad invited Daniel.”
     
    Natalie's stomach lurched. Until that moment, the thought that Daniel would be included in the family gathering hadn't even entered her mind. She closed her eyes against the memories—closed her heart against the pain. “Daniel's coming?”
     
    “What did you expect? That Dad would have him drop Lissa off for dinner and leave?”
     
    “No, I—”
     
    “As far as I'm concerned, Daniel will always be a part of this family, whether you two stay married or not.”
     
    Tears sprang unbidden. Of course she wouldn't want it any other way. She loved her husband and always would. But the laughter, the dreams, the hopes they once shared—it all seemed so long ago. Could they ever reclaim that happiness, start fresh, and put this whole horrible year behind them?
     
    Her gaze drifted across the desk to a framed school photo, where Lissa's image, a younger version of her own face, smiled back at her. But the blue eyes, fringed by silvery-yellow bangs, held a flat, vacant look. The emotional distance between Natalie and her daughter had only increased after Lissa chose to stay with Daniel. Natalie sometimes felt like a helpless spectator, watching her world crumble around her, piece by precious piece.
     
    “Natalie?” Her brother's tone bristled. “Are you listening to me?”
     
    She swallowed her tears. Somehow she had to make her brother understand—make the whole family understand. “Hart, you know it's not just Daniel. I'm afraid if I go out to the farm tonight, I'll—” The words lodged in her throat.
     
    Hart's voice became gentler. “Do you think it's any easier for Dad? He's trying so hard. Come to your birthday dinner. Please don't let him down.”
     
    “I don't want to hurt him, honestly I don't.” She locked her gaze on the ceiling in a vain attempt to staunch the pathetic, self-indulgent tears she had no time for. “It seems like Dad's trying too hard, like he wants to pretend nothing's changed.”
     
    “He's trying to get on with his life, the way Mom would want him to. Don't you think she'd want us to celebrate your birthday and enjoy the Christmas season the way we always have?”
     
    She couldn't answer over the ache in her chest. Dr. Sirpless might eventually help her cope with the massive guilt, and now this anger. But all the therapy in the