look, she thought, the delicate-framed woman and the tall, distinguished man.
Christmas hymns played quietly as she took it all in. Laura knelt by the boxes, lifting out a red glass ball that caught the light and tossed it back. Margo poured steaming chocolate from a silver pot and practiced her flirting skills on Josh.
He stood on a ladder with the lights from the tree glinting in his bronze hair. They played over his face as he grinned down at Margo.
In this room filled with shining silver, sparkling glass, pol ished old wood and soft fabrics, they were perfect. And they were hers.
"Aren't they beautiful, Annie?"
"That they are. And so are you."
Not like them, Kate thought, as she stepped into the room.
"There's my Katie girl." Thomas beamed at her. "Put the books away for a while, did you?"
"If you can stop answering the phone for an evening, I can stop studying."
"No business on tree-trimming night." He winked at her. "I think the hotels can run without me for one night."
"Never as well as they run with you and Aunt Susie."
Margo lifted a brow as she passed Kate a cup of hot chocolate. "Somebody's bucking for another present. I hope you've got something in mind other than that stupid computer you've been drooling over."
"Computers have become necessary tools in any business. Right, Uncle Tommy?"
"Can't live without them. I'm glad your generation's going to be taking over, though. I hate the blasted things."
"You're going to have to upgrade the system in Sales, across the board," Josh put in as he climbed down the ladder. "No reason to do all that work when a machine can do it for you."
"Spoken like a true hedonist." Margo smirked at him. "Be careful, Josh, you might actually have to learn how to type. Imagine, Joshua Conway Templeton, heir apparent to Templeton Hotels, with a useful skill."
"Listen, duchess - "
"Hold it." Susan cut off her son's testy remark with an upraised hand. "No business tonight, remember. Margo, be a good girl and pass Josh the ornaments. Kate, take that side of the tree with Annie, will you? Laura, you and I will start over here."
"And what about me?" Thomas wanted to know.
"You do what you do best, darling. Supervise."
It wasn't enough to hang them. The ornaments had to be sighed over and stories told about them. There was the wooden elf that Margo had thrown at Josh one year, its head now held on its body with glue. The glass star that Laura had once believed her father had plucked from the sky just for her. Snowflakes that Annie had crocheted for each of the family members. The felt wreath with silver piping that had been Kate's first and last sewing project. The homey and simple hung bough by bough with the priceless antique ornaments Susan had collected from around the world.
When it was done, they held their collective breath as Thomas turned off the lamps. And the room was lit by firelight and the magic of the tree.
"It's beautiful. It's always beautiful," Kate murmured and slipped her hand into Laura's.
Late that night when sleep eluded her, Kate wandered back downstairs. She crept into the parlor, stretched out on the rug beneath the tree, and watched the lights dance.
She liked to listen to the house, the quiet ticking of old clocks, the sighs and murmurs of wood settling, the crackle of spent logs in the hearth. Rain was falling in little needle stabs against the windows. The wind was a whispering song.
It helped to lie there. The nerves over her exam the following day slowly unknotted from her stomach. She knew everyone was tucked into bed, safe, sound. She'd heard Laura come in from her drive with Peter, and sometime later Josh returned from a date.
Her world was in order.
"If you're hanging out for Santa, you've got a long wait." Margo came into the room on bare feet and settled down beside Kate. "You're not still obsessing over some stupid math test, are you?"
"It's a midterm. And if you paid more attention to yours, you wouldn't be skimming by with C's."
"School's just something you have to get through." Margo slipped a pack of cigarettes out of her robe pocket. With every one in bed, it was safe to sneak a smoke. "So, can you believe Josh is dating that cross-eyed Leah McNee?"
"She's not cross-eyed, Margo. And she's built."
Margo huffed out smoke. Anyone not struck blind could see that compared to Margo Sullivan, Leah was barely female. "He's only