A Mrs. Miracle Christmas - Debbie Macomber Page 0,51

project are you starting, Nana? It looks like the beginning of a blanket. I love the shade of pink.”

Helen instantly knew what a deer caught in the headlights of a car must feel like. She didn’t want to lie, and yet she didn’t want to mention anything about the baby, either.

“Thank you,” she said, after a brief pause, rationing her words and deciding to leave it at that. Laurel believed that her grandmother was at the start of a project, but little did she know Helen was nearing the end. The small, soft blanket would be perfect to bring the baby home from the hospital in.

Helen stayed up much later than usual, through the end of the romantic comedy. She’d finished the repeat of the last pattern on the blanket and bound off the last stitches. All that was needed now was to block the soft blanket. Then it would be ready for the baby’s arrival.

Oh, what a lovely surprise this infant would be for Laurel and Zach. The precious baby would be coming into a home full of love, with parents who would treasure her as the gift from God that she was.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Christmas Eve arrived as a clear and bright winter day. After school had let out for the holiday break, Laurel and her grandmother had finished baking cookies with the dough that Mrs. Miracle had helped Nana prepare ahead of time.

Early that morning, the two women had worked to plate and wrap and put bows on the platters of Christmas cookies. Nana missed the cheerful presence of her companion, and worried that her friend might forget the church service scheduled for that evening. She talked about Mrs. Miracle nonstop, sharing memories of their fun times together, their excursion at the Pike Place Market, and their afternoon walks.

When they finished packaging the holiday treats, Laurel headed out to distribute the platters to the next-door neighbors and the staff at the church office as well as to the post office. Nana had taught her the importance of recognizing and thanking those who gave of themselves to others.

Laurel spent the latter part of the morning at a crowded grocery store. She hadn’t expected it to be so jam-packed, and it took far longer than she would have liked to get through the maze of shoppers.

When she returned home, she found her grandmother busy in the kitchen, making homemade cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning. It’d been two or three years since Nana had gone to the trouble of baking sweet rolls. It did wonders for Laurel to see her grandmother active and happy again. With her relationship with Zach squared away, she knew this was going to be a special Christmas.

After unpacking the groceries, Laurel turned on some Christmas music, and the two women put together the traditional side dishes to cook for their Christmas dinner. They prepared the baked-potato casserole and the green-bean side dish, and then mixed the spices for the rib roast. This was the traditional Christmas dinner that Nana served every year.

When the last dish was prepped, Laurel and Nana looked around and sighed at the state of the kitchen. The sink was full of pots and pans and an assortment of dirty utensils and prep tools. Three to four cookbooks were open and spread across the kitchen counter. It looked like the contents of half the spice cabinet were scattered in every nook and cranny.

“Wow,” Zach said, standing in the doorway leading into the room, “it looks like a bomb went off in here.”

“We know,” Laurel said, hugging her husband around the waist. “It’s been that kind of day. Nana and I have been busy since the minute you left this morning. We’re grateful you’re home earlier than usual, so you can help with the cleanup.”

With the three working together, the kitchen was back to normal in short order. Dinner was a quick affair, as they needed to leave for the Christmas Eve service. By six-thirty, they were ready to head out the door. Zach had helped Nana into the car and closed the door when his phone chirped. He quickly glanced down, frowned, and turned his phone to silent.

“Who was that?” Laurel asked, standing outside the passenger side of their car.

“Mary Swindoll. I left a message for her a few days ago. She must be getting back to me now.”

Laurel knew why he’d reached out to Mary. He was withdrawing their application.

“I’ll return her call next week,” he said, and shoved his

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024