Under the Mistletoe, page 1
part #1 of Home to Heritage || Book Five Series
under the mistletoe
HOME TO HERITAGE || BOOK FIVE
TARI FARIS
contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
P.S. I Love You
Connect With Sunrise
Heritage Novels
About Tari Faris
About Susan May Warren
The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.
DEUT 31:8
In loving memory of my brother, who didn’t come into our family by birth but was chosen. I love you.
one
It was a Thanksgiving miracle. Devin Hendrixson’s parents were actually going to carve out time for her—at a restaurant, no less—because nothing said American family holiday like filet mignon. As soon as her mom sent the address of the restaurant, Devin was more than happy to drive two hours on snowy roads to make it happen. At least she could count on an hour of uninterrupted quality time with them, and that was more than she’d had in six months.
Devin paced the length of her living room, her phone clutched in her hand. At this rate she’d wear right through the plush gray area rug and at least the topcoat of the dark cherry floors. She needed something to distract her, but both of her roommates, Jess and Piper, had each gone to spend Thanksgiving with their families. Jess had even taken her French bulldog, Pearl, with her, so the place was quiet. Too quiet.
Devin dropped on the couch by the window and opened her text messages. Still nothing from her mom, but the one her boss at LIFE had sent last night taunted her. She tapped it and read it over once more, as if there was some small chance it might have changed overnight.
MaryLynn
The meeting with the board didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. Let’s talk soon. And pray.
Devin sank back into the couch and closed her eyes. Pray? Pray for what? That the board of the small nonprofit would approve the new budget she’d sent over? Pray that she still had a job? Those were very different prayers.
Devin
Can you elaborate?
She’d sent that response last night, but it still sat unanswered. What did she expect? It was Thanksgiving, and most people spent the day with people.
The phone rang in her hand, and she jolted upright. But it was Jess’s face that appeared on the screen, not her mom’s. Devin accepted the call. “Hey, Jess, how is Grandma Evans?”
“Spicy as ever. You’d never guess she’s pushing ninety-five.” There was laughter in the background that became muffled as if her cousin had escaped into a bedroom. “I’m calling to make sure you saw the weather.”
Devin eyed the Heritage town square across the street out the big front window. The sun was bright off the fresh snow that had fallen last night, creating a Christmas wonderland. She’d been surprised a few weeks ago when the town had put up Christmas decorations so early before Thanksgiving, but now she could see why. “We got about ten inches last night, but the sun is out now.”
The thirty-foot Christmas tree just south of the gazebo was covered with thick snow, creating different-colored glow patches where the Christmas lights struggled to shine through. Even Otis, the mysterious moving brass hippo statue sporting a Santa hat, had drifts up to his ears.
“It’s supposed to start up again.” Jess’s worry didn’t seem to match what Devin was seeing outside. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave.”
Ah. That’s what this was really about. “Jess—”
“I just hate the idea of you sitting alone in that nice restaurant on Thanksgiving. I wish you’d come to GG’s here in Indiana with me. We are cousins, after all.”
“Second cousins once removed and on the other side of the family.”
“I don’t care if she isn’t your great-grandmother. She’s known you since you were born and would love to see you.”
“And I would love to see her. But I haven’t seen my parents in six months.”
Jess huffed. “How are the illustrious Drs. Hendrixson? Have the two eccentric scientists cured cancer yet?”
“Their work is in type-one diabetes, not cancer—and if they’d cured it, you’d know. I know I’m not close with my folks like you are with yours, but I take what I can get.” Devin swallowed down a lump as she picked at the treads of the couch. When someone’s life work was to cure a disease that affected more than three million children in the United States alone, everything else came second—even their only child. “Besides, GG is six hours from here, and you know I have the pinewood derby race tomorrow and I can’t miss that.”
“Maybe I should’ve stayed home.”
“Would you stop worrying about me?” Her phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Mom
About to leave. See you in about two hours.
Then there was a location link to the restaurant.
She sent back a thumbs-up.
“That’s my mom now.” Devin stood and grabbed her teal winter coat and pulled it on. “I need to go.”
If her parents were really going to follow through this time, she wasn’t going to be late.
Devin ended the call and stepped out onto the wide, covered porch of the Victorian rental house as she tapped the link. According to Apple Maps, Benton Harbor was two hours and five minutes south of Heritage.
She paused at the top of her porch steps.
The town square was even more beautiful from here. From the silver bells on the light to the garland and red ribbon trimming along the old one-room schoolhouse and gazebo, Heritage appeared Hallmark Christmas–movie worthy. It really was the perfect little town. And maybe that was why, when she’d had the opportunity to move here, she’d jumped on it.
Not for the decorations, but because she’d spent her entire childhood wanting to climb inside her TV and have a beautiful family Christmas. She had to figure out how to convince the board this place was worth the investment.
“Devin!”
Devin hurried down the few steps and then squatted down as her neighbor Roman ran toward her full steam along the freshly shoveled sidewalk. His red coat was unzipped, one mitten in place, and a blue hat was pulled down so far that only a hint of his red hair peeked out. She caught him mid-run and struggled to keep her balance as she scooped up the four-year-old in her arms.
His green eyes lit up and his smile stretched full across his freckled face. He was missing one eye-tooth because of a playground incident, not Mother Nature.
“Happy Turkey Day!” He wiggled his finger below his chin. “Gobble, gobble.”
“And happy Turkey Day to you!” She mimicked his gobbler motion. “Where is everyone else?”
“They’re slow.” He pointed to where Luke walked toward them down the sidewalk, Roman’s missing mitten in hand. Luke was just over six feet and had a head of dark hair with a bit of wild curl to it. The guy looked so much like his half brother Liam, her friend from college, that even after six months of living two houses away, she still did a mental double take every time she saw him.
Liam and his fraternal twin brother Logan were off living their best life and rarely checked in with the friend group or their family, from what she gathered—which was crazy. She’d give anything for a family like this.
Although, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if the twins did visit more. She and Liam were still friends. Logan and her? She wasn’t so sure. Then again, she’d never really seen him as a friend. And after their last encounter, he definitely didn’t see her as one.
Roman slid to the ground and claimed his mitten from Luke. “We’re gonna go watch the parade at my grandma and grandpa’s house.”
Devin’s ears snagged on the use of grandma and grandpa, and her eyes darted to Luke’s.
He nodded in confirmation. “It’s official. Or it will be after the court date in January.”
“Yup. I’m a Taylor.” Roman jumped with the words, a smile stretching across his face again. Even at just four years old, after two years in the foster care system, he got it. People who wanted you around were not to be taken for granted.
She pushed down the building pressure in her chest and concentrated on Roman again. “You’ll have to tell me tomorrow about your favorite balloon from the parade.”
The screen door squeaked open and smacked shut again as six-year-old Joseph and ten-year-old Asher exited their house and started walking toward them. Joseph was practically a clone of his father, and Asher was a spitting image of his uncle Thomas with his strawberry-blond hair and wide grin, even though he too was adopted about a year ago.
“You should come with us.” Roman grabbed her hand and tugged it. “My grandma makes great pies. She lives on Carter Road. You know where that is?”
“I do. But you can’t invite me to someone else’s house.” She bopped him on the nose as the other two boys joined them.
“Grandma says there is always room at the table for one more. Right, Dad?” Roman smiled up at Luke. “She calls it table math.”
“I told her that table math doesn’t math,” Asher interjected. “If there’s always room for one more, that could never end.”
And for the smallest fraction of a second she wanted to deny it. Agree to join them. Because as much as she wanted to see her parents, it wouldn’t be this. There would be no warmth, few smiles, and definitely no conversations about parades or pies. They would talk about work and how she had the opportunity to do more with her life, then hang out with kids.
She shoved away the thoughts because they may not be perfect, but her parents were all she had. “I’m meeting my parents in Benton Harbor.”
“Is that where you’s from?” Roman worked unsuccessfully at his zipper.
“Nope.” She squatted down and helped him with his coat. “I grew up in Chicago. But they have to work tomorrow and so do I, so we’re meeting halfway for dinner.”
“You don’t work tomorrow. We have the race.” Roman’s face twisted in confusion.
“That is her work, dodo head.” Joseph nudged Roman’s shoulder.
“No name-calling.” Hannah walked up, carrying a casserole dish and joined them, with her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. She was followed by their oldest, Jimmy, who was carrying a Tupperware container of cookies. At fourteen, he was the typical quiet teen boy, but he nodded.
“I have one more thing I need to grab.” Hannah handed the foil-covered dish in her hands to Luke. “But if you don’t get back too late, Devin, you should join us for pie and games.”
“Maybe.” But she wouldn’t. As much as they said she was welcome, and as much as she longed for a family like this, she had no need to impose on others. Asking for help when you are capable of doing it yourself is selfish. Her mother had drilled that into her all her life. Maybe this wasn’t asking for help, but the same principle applied. Take care of your own needs.
Hannah’s easy smile turned down at the edges as they made eye contact. She walked back to Devin and laid her hands on Devin’s shoulders. “I used to try and do it all alone. It doesn’t work. I learned you are never alone in Heritage. Even when you want to be. Remember that. Consider us your extended family. It’s what we consider you.”
Something gripped Devin in the chest, and she struggled to swallow. This was what she wanted, but it wasn’t her reality, no matter what Hannah said. Her reality was detached parents who, if she didn’t hurry, would be waiting for her at the restaurant. And not patiently. She pulled out her keys as she stepped back. “I’ve got to go.”
“Just promise if you need anything, you’ll let us know.” Hannah pinned her with her gaze.
Devin nodded as she climbed into her car. Consider us your extended family. Could it be that simple? She started the engine and headed south on Henderson Road.
She waved to the Taylor family as they divided between their minivan and Luke’s truck. What would a real Thanksgiving be like? A family where everyone was welcome and no one was made to feel like an inconvenience?
She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. After all, she hadn’t had a rough childhood. Working with kids in foster care and those who had gone through adoption had taught her it could’ve been worse. So much worse. She’d always had everything she needed. Everything but people. Actually, Karen, her nanny, had been very present until she’d been let go when Devin turned twelve. She laughed to avoid the tears forming. How sad was it that her emotional rock was the memory of a nanny she hadn’t seen in over fourteen years?
As she wound her way through the town toward Heritage Street that would lead to the US 31, the Victorian homes slowly gave way to the larger properties and farmhouses set back from the road.
Her phone rang through her radio, and Devin accepted the call. “MaryLynn?”
“Hey, Devin. I know it’s Thanksgiving, but do you have a moment?”
“I’ll be driving for the next two hours. What’s up?” Her heart gave a small poke as she passed the green Carter Road sign on her right.
“I was going to call you for a meeting on Monday, but I don’t want you freaking about my last text until then.” A deep sigh accompanied her words, and Devin would put money on the fact her friend had removed her glasses and was rubbing her eyes like she normally did when she was stressed. That wasn’t good. “We had an end-of-the-year budget meeting last week, and we need to make cuts.”
Cuts? As in cutting a few events, or as in eliminating her job? “But we just started this program. It takes time to—”
“I know. I told them. But giving has been down this year, and right now, yours has the highest spending with the lowest return.”
“What can I do to change their minds?” Devin adjusted the heat as the chill of the car settled in her toes. The road had been cleared, but occasional clumps of snow broke free from the trees and littered the path.
“I don’t know. But we’ll try to save it, trust me. I have to go. Let’s talk more tomorrow. And don’t worry about it, enjoy Thanksgiving.” The line went dead.
Not worry about it? She had basically said the program here was as good as dead. But it wasn’t her own job she was worried about. MaryLynn had told her before that if the program failed, they would move her position back to Detroit. But where did that leave all the kids she worked with? Their little faces flashed through her mind. The last thing they needed was one more person walking out of their lives.
The phone rang through the car with another incoming call, and she glanced at the screen. Mom. A pit landed in her stomach. Devin tapped the screen and accepted the call. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
“We have amazing news.” The tone said it all. There was only one thing her parents got this excited about, and it wasn’t seeing their only child. “We were headed out the door when one of your dad’s samples showed up positive. Can you believe it?”
Strangely, she could. It would still be positive tomorrow, but they wouldn’t want to waste a minute. She flipped on her blinker and turned into the Marathon gas station just before the on-ramp to US 31.
“I was hoping to catch you before you left, but it sounds like you’re already on your way.” The disappointment in her mom’s tone was a gut punch. They’d still agree to meet her, but they wouldn’t be happy about it, and they’d be distracted the whole time. She couldn’t hold back the tears that sprang to the corners of her eyes.
“I’ve not gotten far.” She kept her voice steady. The Marathon station was dark, but a few of the pumps were open. She needed gas but two cars were filling up, and she was fairly certain that was Mrs. Smith at last pump. The last thing she needed right now was someone asking her what was wrong and breaking into tears while she talked to her parents. “I can turn around.”
“Oh, great. We do want to see you, but this is actually very important.” The story of her life.
“No worries.” Devin turned away from the pumps and chose a remote parking spot away from the other cars. It hadn’t been cleared of the six inches of snow that had fallen in the night, but it would give her more privacy. She was about to stop when her front wheels dropped down off what must have been the edge of the asphalt. Grinding from the scraping of the undercarriage filled the car. Oops. She shifted into park. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“Christmas for sure. There’s no way we’ll miss that.” Her mom’s voice had softened but shifted back to its practical tone. “After all, they close the lab that day.”
Of course they did. Because that was the only reason her parents would guarantee taking time off to see her. That was the only way their daughter wouldn’t be seen as an interruption to things that were actually important.
She ended the call and drew a steadying breath. So much for Thanksgiving dinner. So much for her parents showing up this time. Another lump formed in her throat. She had to convince the board this program was worth it. She refused to abandon the kids who had just begun to trust her, because showing up mattered.
