1225 Christmas Tree Lane

name.

“Is he in town?” Jack asked. He took two mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter; Olivia tossed a couple of Earl Grey teabags in the pot.

“No, or at least not as far as I’m aware. And frankly it’s a good thing he isn’t.”

Jack chuckled. “I couldn’t agree with you more, and I haven’t got a clue what he’s done to upset you now.”

“He got a young girl pregnant.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “And you know this how?”

“I met her.”

“Today?”

“Not more than two hours ago. She’s young, probably twenty years younger than he is, and innocent. Or she was until David got hold of her. I swear that man should be shot!”

“Olivia!” He seemed shocked by her words. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Okay, that might be drastic. I’m just so furious I can hardly stand it.”

Jack grinned.

With her hands on her hips, Olivia glared at her husband. “You find this amusing, do you?”

“Well, not about this young lady but I will admit it’s a pleasant change to see color in your cheeks and your eyes sparkling, even if it’s with outrage.” He reached for her and brought her close enough to kiss her lips, allowing his own to linger. When he released her, he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “It’s an even greater pleasure to know all this indignation isn’t directed at me.”

“I’ve never been anywhere near this upset with you, Jack Griffin.”

“I beg to differ.”

“When?”

“I remember one time,” Jack said, “when I thought you were going to kick me out.”

“I would never have done that.” Her arms circled his waist. They’d found ways to make their marriage work, ways to compromise between his nature—he was a slob, not to put too fine a point on it—and hers.

Olivia liked order. Their bathroom dilemma was a perfect example. She’d been driven to the brink of fury by the piles of damp towels, the spattered mirror, the uncapped toothpaste. The solution? They had their own bathrooms now. She kept the one off the master bedroom and he had the guest bath. Jack could be as sloppy as he wanted, as long as he closed the door and Olivia didn’t have to see his mess.

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” Jack whispered.

“And why’s that?” she asked, leaning back to look him in the eye.

“Because you’d be lost without me.”

“Jack…”

The kettle started to boil, its piercing whistle enough to set the dogs in the next block howling. She tried to break free, but Jack held her fast. “Admit it,” he insisted. “You’re crazy about me.”

“All right, all right, I’m crazy about you.”

“And you’d be lost without me. Wouldn’t you?”

“Jack!”

Grinning like a schoolboy, he let her go and she grabbed the kettle, relieved by the sudden cessation of that high-pitched shrieking.

Pouring the boiling water into the teapot, she covered it with a cozy and left the tea to steep. Then she opened the cookie jar and chose two of the decorated sugar cookies she’d baked a few days earlier with her grandson—a tree shape and a star. The afternoon had worn her out physically but she treasured every moment she’d spent in the kitchen with Leif.

Just as she was about to pour their tea, the phone rang.

“Want me to get that?” Jack called from the other room.

A glance at Caller ID told her it was Grace.

“I will,” she told him. “Merry Christmas,” she said into the receiver.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” her friend said in return. “I thought I’d check in and let you know how everything’s going.”

“So what’s the update?”

“Everything’s fine,” Grace assured her.

“Mary Jo’s resting?”

“She was asleep the last time I looked, which was about five minutes ago. The girl must be exhausted. She told me she didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“She’s in the apartment then, or at the house?”

“The apartment. Cliff’s daughter and her family are already here, so…”