Holiday Wishes by Nora Roberts

warmth.
    â€œYou didn’t have to get her a present,” Faith began, but her curiosity got the better of her. “What is it?”
    â€œThis?” Jason patted the six-foot box. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
    â€œIf you don’t tell me, you don’t get any coffee.” She smiled. “And I keep the pizza.”
    â€œSpoilsport. It’s a toboggan.” He took Faith’s arm to lead her out of the room. “She happened to mention when we were building the snowman that some kid had this toboggan and it went down Red Hill like a spitfire.”
    â€œSpitfire,” Faith murmured.
    â€œAnd snow like this is just made for going down Red Hill like a spitfire, so . . .”
    â€œSucker,” Faith accused and kissed him hard.
    â€œPut that pizza down and call me that again.”
    She laughed and kept it between them.
    â€œWow!”
    Faith raised a brow at the noise from the living room. “I think she saw the box.”
    At full speed, Clara barreled into the kitchen. “Did you see? I knew there’d be one more, I just knew. It’s as tall as you are,” she told Jason. “Did you see?” She grabbed his hand to drag him back. “It has my name on it.”
    â€œImagine that.” Jason picked her up and kissed both cheeks. “Merry Christmas.”
    â€œI can’t wait.” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I just can’t wait.”
    Watching them, Faith felt her emotions tangle and knot until her bones ached with it. What should she do? What could she do? When Jason turned with Clara, the lights from the tree fell like wishes over their faces.
    â€œFaith?” He didn’t need words to recognize distress, pain, turmoil. “What is it?”
    Her hands were digging into the cardboard of the box. “Nothing. I’m going to dish out this pizza before it’s cold.”
    â€œPizza?” Delighted, Clara bounced down. “Can I have two pieces? It’s Christmas.”
    â€œMonkey,” Faith scolded gently, tousling her hair. “Set the table.”
    â€œWhat is it, Faith?” Jason took her arm before she could follow her daughter into the kitchen. “Something’s wrong.”
    â€œNo.” She had to control herself. She’d managed everything for so long. “You overwhelmed me.” With a smile she touched his face. “It’s happened before. Come on, let’s eat.”
    Because she seemed to need to keep her thoughts to herself, he let it go and followed her into the kitchen where Clara was already peeking into the cardboard box. He’d never seen a child plow through food with such unrestrained glee. He’d never known Christmas Eve could be special simply because there was someone beside him.
    Clara swallowed the last of her second piece. “Maybe if I opened one present tonight there’d be less confusion in the morning.”
    Faith seemed to consider. “I like confusion,” she decided, and Jason realized the conversation was an old tradition.
    â€œMaybe if I opened just one present tonight, I could get right to sleep. Then you wouldn’t have to wait so long to creep around and fill the stockings.”
    â€œHmm.” Faith pushed aside her empty plate and enjoyed the wine Jason had brought. “I like creeping around late at night.”
    â€œIf I opened—”
    â€œNot a chance.”
    â€œIf I—”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œBut Christmas is just hours and hours away.”
    â€œAwful, isn’t it?” Faith smiled at her. “And you’re going caroling in ten minutes, so you’d better get your coat.”
    Clara walked over to tug on her boots. “Maybe when I get back, there’ll be just one present that you’ll figure isn’t really important enough to wait until morning.”
    â€œAll the presents under the tree are absolutely vital.” Faith rose to