She blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Just thought you'd like to see how I celebrate Christmas," he said, and stepped aside for her to enter.

"I got the impression you didn't."

"Well, you got the wrong impression. Want to see my tree?"

"You have a tree?"

"Yeah, I've got a tree."

"Oh, I can hardly wait to see this," she said, following him into the living room. He'd probably decorated it with old Budweiser cans.

But he hadn't. It had old-fashioned tinsel on it and all kinds of those collectible ornaments she saw every year at Hallmark. "This is impressive," she said, moving closer for a better look.

In fact, the whole apartment was impressive. The neutral-colored walls were jazzed up with framed photographs of mountain and sea scenes-Rick's work, obviously. He didn't have a ton of furniture, but what he had was nice: brown leather sofa and love seat, a st.u.r.dy coffee table made of cherrywood. It had two steaming mugs sitting on it.

Rick handed one to her.

"How did you manage this?" she said, holding up the mug.

"I'm organized."

"So, tell me about the tree."

"Not much to tell. My mom has gotten me ornaments for Christmas every year since I was born. Of course, she got me other stuff, too," he added, then frowned. "Socks, underwear, pajamas."

"You poor, deprived child," Rosemary teased.

"Well, we could always count on Santa for the cool stuff," Rick said.

"The stuff you got from Santa probably wouldn't be as valuable as these ornaments." She smiled at him. "It's a great tree."

"I don't put one up every year. It's a pain in the a.s.s." He smiled at her. "I just put it up when I'm planning on having really important company."

She felt suddenly fluttery inside and took a sip of her drink. "Well, I've got to say, you have great taste. All except for the music," she added.

"Hey, that's a great song."

She nodded at the tree. "So, was this what you wanted me to see?"

"That and what's under it," he said, moving closer to her.

She looked down and saw a small package wrapped in gold foil. "What's this?"

"Something for you."

"Oh, my gosh. Really?"

He picked it up and gave it to her. "Open it."

She did and her jaw dropped. There was the necklace with the pink quartz she'd admired at the Hollydays Fair. She looked from it to Rick, stunned. He was grinning like an oversized elf.

"You can shut your mouth now," he teased, and lifted a finger to her chin. "Or, come to think of it, you can leave it open."

It was a kiss to remember. He smelled like aftershave and tasted like hot b.u.t.tered rum.

"So," he murmured after that enticing sample of possible Christmases future. "You got your outfit all picked out for New Year's Eve?"

She grinned up at him. "Who's paying? Who lost the bet?"

He looked over his shoulder at his tree. "Let's call it a draw, but I'll pay."

Joy and Bob and their kids were almost the last to leave the party this year. It was a first.

Al pumped Bob's hand as they walked out the door. "Thanks for doing that, Bob. It was really great. I loved it that you made Lonnie the murderer."

"We'll do it again next year," Bob promised.

Joy could hardly believe her ears. She threaded an arm through Bob's as they made their way down the front walk. "Will we? Really?"

He nodded. "Why not?"

She sighed happily. "That was fun."

He smiled down at her and said, "Yes, it was."

Those were the sweetest words she'd heard in a long time, and, after all they'd been through this season, they felt almost too good to be true. Note to self: Reward husband properly later. She tugged on Bob's arm, slowing them down to let the kids go on ahead of them. "Did you mean what you just said? Really?"

He considered a moment. "Yes, I did. And even if I didn't I'd still be there. I love you, hon, crazy family and all."

Al's front door opened to let out a couple other stragglers, and music from his Christmas CD danced out into the cold night air, a choir singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."

No need to wish it, Joy thought happily. She had it.

Glen had done all the dishes after dinner, but he made sure he wasn't alone. He'd bullied his brother and Frank into helping him. Now the kitchen was clean and the family was busy exchanging presents, and Glen found himself wishing he was back in the kitchen, especially when his father-in-law opened his gift.

"Drill bits and nuts," he said. "Interesting combination."

"If you'd been at Hank's today," Glen began.

Laura's dad cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I was. You did better than I did." He lowered his voice and leaned over to Glen. "Your mother-in-law's getting a handwritten gift certificate."

Poor Dad, Glen thought. Although he hadn't done much better for Laura.

"Oh, well. A gift certificate is better than nothing," his father-in-law decided.

Wait a minute. That gave Glen an idea. And it was a great one. He felt so pleased with himself he almost crowed. Santa would be up late tonight, but it would be worth it.

"Say," said his mom. "Isn't it time we left for church?"

Glen looked at his watch. "Whoa, you're right. Hey, everybody, we've got to get going."

"You got the right costume this time?" teased Frank.

"Funny," snapped Glen. Not only was Frank not getting invited back next year, he might not even live to see next year.

Everyone hugged, kissed, then rushed out and piled into cars, and ten minutes later the family was settled in pews for the early Ma.s.s, witnessing a new generation of kids celebrating the Christmas story. Watching his daughter sing in the angel choir with his wife seated next to him and his son on his lap made Glen remember why he loved this season so much. And this year he had a new appreciation for all of it. So much effort went into making all the celebrations he loved, effort he'd taken very much for granted. Never again. He was a new man and he was going to prove it to Laura with a grand gesture.

Back home, when it was just them, he got the presents he'd bought earlier wrapped and stashed under the tree while Laura put the kids to bed. Then they filled the kids' stockings together. As it turned out, the stocking stuffers were about the only things that he'd managed not to screw up on. Laura told him it was because he was the world's biggest kid.

"There's nothing wrong with that," he said, suspecting an insult.

"No, there's not," she agreed with a smile. "I think that does it. Let's go to bed."

"You go ahead. I've got a couple more things I need to do," Glen said.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. "It's over, you big goof. You're done. You can come to bed."

"Not quite." He kissed her. "You go on. I'll be up in a little bit."

She shook her head at him like he was nuts. "Okay."

As soon as she was gone, he slipped into the spare room office and began making his Christmas creation for her, using everything he could find from old stationery to some of the kids' colored craft paper. He got so engrossed in his project he didn't even hear Laura come in until she said his name. Then he about jumped out of his skin.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He threw an arm over the scattered bits of clipped papers. "Nothing."

"Glen, you've been in here for almost two hours."

Time flew when you were being brilliant. "Really?"

She slipped around him and loosened a rectangle of red construction paper from under his elbow.

"Hey," he protested.

But it was too late. She was already reading it. "Good for one back rub. No expiration date." She gave him a smile that told him he was really onto something, then freed another bit of paper. "Good for one night of dinner and dancing. Dancing, huh? Boy, you're really trying. So how many of those coupons have you made?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've lost count."

"And are they all for me?" she asked, her voice teasing.

"Well, they're not for Frank."

She grinned and dropped onto his lap, slipping her arms around his neck. "This is really sweet."

Man, she smelled good. "What I found for you didn't seem good enough," he confessed. "I'm sorry, babe. I'd ordered something really great from that stupid Internet site and-"

She put her fingers to his lips to shut him up. "You already gave me what I wanted for Christmas. You helped. It was all I ever really wanted." She slid off his lap, the flimsy material of her nightgown whispering through his fingers. "Now, why don't you come to bed?" she suggested, her voice silky.

It looked like Glen was going to get something he really wanted for Christmas, too. He followed her out of the room, leaving the coupons on the desk. They'd still be there in the morning.

Merry Christmas to all, he thought with a smile, and to all a good night.

Twenty-four.

...And a Happy New Year

"The worst was the frozen turkey," Glen said, and proceeded to describe the finishing touch to his disaster dinner. By the time he was done, Bob and Joy's other party guests were nearly in hysterics. "I don't want to be a woman for Christmas ever again," he concluded.

"You won't have to be," Laura a.s.sured him, patting his leg. "Just a helpful husband."

"That I can handle. Man, what a nightmare this all was."

"You did do okay with the costume for the Christmas pageant at church," she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. "Real hard. We were down to one bag."

Pete gestured to Bob's disaster tree. "At least you got the tree right, and that's more than Bob can say."

Bob pointed a warning finger at him. "No fishing for compliments, Martha Stewart. My tree may not have won any contest, but it makes a statement."

"I hope you're not fixing to tell us what it says," Sharon said in disgust.

Whatever it said, it had been the perfect tree to shelter all the funny white elephant gifts the St.i.tch 'N b.i.t.c.hers and their husbands had just finished fighting over.

"Well, I have to admit, I was pretty mad when Kay started this," said Jack Carter, who was sitting on the Robertson's couch with an arm around his wife, "but at least I can see now how easy it is to get carried away with shopping."

"He actually spent more this year than I usually do," Kay added.

"So there was something for your children under the tree after all?" Joy asked.

Jack made a face. "Like I was going to let my kids come over and find nothing under the tree." He shook his head at Kay. "Kay exaggerates."

Kay said nothing. She didn't need to. Her smug smile and the new bit of bling-bling on her finger said it all. Her cheapskate husband had learned his lesson.