Trading Christmas Read Free

not true!” Emily could see that talking to Faith wasn’t having the desired effect. “I called because I need sympathy,” Emily said, her tone a bit petulant even to her own ears.
    Faith laughed softly. “I’ve failed you, then.”
    â€œYes.” Emily figured she might as well tell the truth. “Of all people, I thought you’d understand.”
    â€œI’m sorry to disappoint you, Em.”
    Her friend didn’t sound sorry.
    â€œI actually think being apart over the holidays might be good for you—and for Heather.”
    Emily was aghast that Faith would suggest such a thing. “How can you say that?”
    â€œHeather might appreciate you more and you might just discover that there are other possibilities at Christmas than spending it with your daughter.”
    Emily knew she’d adjust much more easily if she wasn’t a widow. Being alone at this time of year was hard, had been hard ever since Peter’s death. Perhaps Faith was right. Perhaps she’d clung to her daughter emotionally, but Emily felt that in her circumstances, it was forgivable.
    â€œI’ll be fine,” she managed, but she didn’t believe it for a moment.
    â€œI know you will,” Faith said.
    Even more distressed than before, Emily finished the conversation and hung up the phone. Never having had children, Faith didn’t understand how devastating Heather’s news had been. And if Emily was guilty of relying on her daughter too much, Christmas was hardly the time of year to deal with it. But wait a minute. She’d encouraged Heather’s independence, hadn’t she? After all, the girl was attending school clear across the country. Surely a few days at Christmas wasn’t too much to ask.
    Emily decided a walk would help her sort through these complicated emotions. She put on her heavy wool coat, laced up her boots and wrapped her hand-knitted red scarf around her neck. She’d knitted an identical scarf for her daughter, although Heather’s was purple instead of red, and mailed it off before Thanksgiving. Finally she thrust her hands into warm mittens. It’d snowed overnight and the wind was cold enough to cut to the bone.
    The Kennedy kids—ranging from six years old to thirteen—had their sleds out and were racing down the hill in the park. In order of age and size, they scrambled up the steepincline, dragging their sleds behind them. When they reached the top, they all waved excitedly at Emily. Sarah, the youngest, ran over to join her.
    â€œHello, Mrs. Springer.” Sarah smiled up at her with two bottom teeth missing.
    â€œSarah,” Emily said, feigning shock. “Did you lose those two teeth?”
    The girl nodded proudly. “My mom pulled them out and I didn’t even cry.”
    â€œDid the tooth fairy visit?”
    â€œYes,” Sarah told her. “James said there wasn’t any such thing, but I put my teeth under my pillow and in the morning there was fifty cents. Mom said if I wanted to believe in the tooth fairy, I could. So I believed and I got two quarters.”
    â€œGood for you.”
    With all the wisdom of her six years, Sarah nodded. “You’ve got to believe.”
    â€œRight,” Emily agreed.
    â€œIn Santa, too!”
    As the youngest, Sarah had four older brothers and a sister all too eager to inform her that Santa Claus and his helpers bore a strong resemblance to Mom and Dad. “Do you believe, Mrs. Springer?”
    Right now that was a difficult question. Emily was no longer sure. She wanted to believe in the power of love and family, but her daughter’s phone call had forced her to question that. At least a little…
    â€œDo you?” Sarah repeated, staring intently up at Emily.
    â€œAh…” Then it hit her. She suddenly saw what should’ve been obvious from the moment she answered the phone that afternoon. “Yes, Sarah,” she said,