“You got a package!”
“You’re to blame for that.”
Trent stopped at the door of the Saugatuck cottage, kicked the snow of his boots and laughed.
“I think it was a mutual thing, by the way,” Trent said. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Neve said. “I’m actually more nervous about having our entire families gather here for Christmas than I am telling them about the baby.”
“Well, I bought some good wine to make it all go more smoothly,” Trent said.
“Good wine?” Neve asked. “My family likes it in a box. This should be fun. And I have to endure the whole thing sober.”
Trent laughed again. “I’ll drink for both of us.”
“So what did I get?”
Trent pulled a large cardboard box into the living room and toward the newly cut Christmas tree. “Somebody taped this shut as if it were going to be dropped from an airplane.”
“Must be precious cargo inside,” Neve said, rubbing her stomach.
Trent retrieved a pair of scissors and opened it. “There’s a note on top with your name on it. Here.”
My dear Neve,
I know I could have brought these to you in person, but I wanted you to have them before everyone arrived for the holidays, and your new home and life descended into total and utter chaos.
Can I tell you again how proud of you I am? Trent is a wonderful man, and I believe you certainly had an army of guardian angels pushing you toward him. I’m glad you followed their lead.
I found these hidden away in the attic when I was planning my annual fall yard sale—the BEST in Michigan. I’d forgotten all about them. They were the ones I gave Patty to decorate Jackson’s nursery with when he was a baby. I wanted him to be surrounded by magic.
I know you probably have more of these bottlebrush trees than you’ll ever need—I mean, strangers want to give me their vintage trees to give to you so you will work your magic—but I thought inspiration might kick in once you saw these. There’s no one else in the world who should have them but you.
Merry Christmas, my shiny, bright girl! See you soon!
Love,
Grandma Madge
P.S. I’m sure Trent’s family is way classier than ours, but there better be a box of wine waiting when I arrive. You know how much the Fords love to dribble a few glasses over the holidays! XO!
Neve opened the box, and an entire village of bottlebrush trees awaited: Blue, green, gold, silver, white, pink, some glittery, others dotted with little glass-ball ornaments or crushed-glass flocking. There was also something else, too—something bubble-wrapped and surrounded by sheets of tissue paper. Neve cut it free and gasped: a vintage bottle-brush tree baby planter. A figurine of a little pink-and-blue lamb pulling a cart filled with a pink-and-blue bottlebrush tree—as if the lamb had just cut a tree from the farm and was bringing it home for the new baby to see.
Neve ran her finger over the lamb’s face and nodded.
Now I know why she sent them early, she thought.
“Will you help me with these?” Neve asked Trent.
He followed her up the stairs with the box and into the baby’s nursery. The room was stark and white. A crib sat in one corner, along with a rocking chair and a changing table.
“I’ve been waiting to decide how to decorate our baby’s room,” Neve said. “Especially since we’re waiting until the big day to see if it’s a boy or girl.”
“I was wondering why you hadn’t jumped all over this yet,” Trent said.
“But now I know.” She turned in a circle and placed the little lamb on the table. “I want to build a little magical world for our child, where he or she can be anything they dream.” Neve looked at Trent. “I just want them to know that being happy is the most important thing.”
Neve continued, “I’m going to make these walls look three-dimensional, painting scenes on them and then adhering these trees on top as if they were real. One wall will feature our cottage here tucked between the lake and the woods. Another will be Lincoln Park in Chicago. And that wall will be Frankenmuth at the holidays. Our baby will have the best of both worlds, just like we do…” She paused. “Our baby will know love and the meaning of tradition.”
Trent walked over and put his arms around his wife.
“So what are we going to name our baby if it’s a little girl?” Trent asked. “We need to make a decision. You know every member of the family will have an opinion. And I don’t know if I really want a baby girl named Madge.”
Neve laughed. “I’m torn between Faith and Hope,”
“That’s a great place to be,” Trent said. “I love both. And what if it’s a boy?”
Neve walked to the box and pulled out a shimmering blue-green tree that resembled a miniature Fraser fir. Neve held it to her body and closed her eyes for a second.
“How would you feel about Jack?” she finally asked.
“I think that’s perfect,” he said.
Neve nodded and looked around the nursery. Just outside the windows, snow began to fall over the lake. It moved slowly, like a curtain, until it reached the pines in front of the cottage.
Trent walked over and took her hand, and the entire world glistened beyond Neve’s window.