A Heavenly Christmas. Rhonda Merwarth

did you guess?” he said smoothly at her smile. So much like his sister—her mom—the kid was too smart for her own good.

      “Uncle Max?” Lauren asked as Max tucked her into bed later that evening. “I know you’re not a morning person, but is it okay if we get up early and go sledding?”

      He tucked a teddy bear beside her. “Who says I’m not a morning person?”

      “You said musicians were night owls.” She said it in a tone far too mature for her age.

      Hah. The child remembered everything he ever told her. He shifted on the bed beside her. “Well, that was before you moved in.” He gave a heavy, fake sigh. “Now I never sleep at all.”

      They grinned at each other, and she snuggled the bear against her chest.

      “When Grandma and Grandpa leave, are you going to teach me to play guitar?” she asked innocently.

      His heart thrummed against his ribcage. He wasn’t ready for the conversation he knew they needed to have. Not yet. “Let’s talk about it after New Year’s,” he said with a forced smile. “Okay?” He patted her leg. “Good night, sweetie. Sweet dreams.” He shut off her light, closed the door, and walked into the living room. Eyeing the guitars lined up against the corner, he rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled softly.

      On the mantel was a picture of him and his sister, her smile piercing, eyes sparkling, him with his guitar beside her. He picked up the photo and looked at the image, the familiar pain of missing her rushing into him. Since her death two years ago, he felt like he’d aged a hundred years. His whole life had changed. He settled down into his chair and got caught up in memories of a time when life was easier and music was in his soul.

      Now, his soul was silent, and he felt empty inside. Like a big piece of him was gone. And he suspected he’d never get it back.

      The next afternoon, Carter, a Santa hat tilted on his head, came by Eve’s office and handed her a mug full of eggnog. Outside her door, she could hear people chatting and festive music playing. The Christmas party had started, and everyone was having a fantastic time from the sounds of it. Good for them. Part of her wished they were a bit quieter so she could focus, but she knew the parties came with the territory. Oh well.

      “Thank you,” she said to Carter with a chuckle as she took the offering. “Is this poisoned?” she teased. She knew he wouldn’t do something like that, that the competition between them was healthy and fair, but it was fun to harass him.

      Instead of laughing, his face turned serious. “A little piece of advice from someone who’s been doing this longer.” He paused and she eyed him. “I know how badly you want this partnership. And you’re probably going to get it. But some really good stuff is passing you by.”

      She stared at him for a moment, unsure what to make of the frank remark. Wait a minute. She knew what this was, what he was doing. “Are you trying to psych me out?” she asked with a smirk.

      Carter smiled then and rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “Oh, don’t give up that easily!” she protested.

      She could see flashes of emotion pass in his eyes, something that looked suspiciously close to pity. For her. It made her a little uncomfortable. “I’m going home to Christmas carol with my family.”

      “Okay,” she replied quietly. “Have fun.”

      “You’re welcome to join us,” he offered.

      Right. Because she was so the singing type. “Thank you. But while you’re out caroling, I’m going to be here, signing new clients.” He already was aware of this, of course, but she felt she needed to reiterate. This was why he’d admitted that she’d be getting the partnership. They both knew it. Because her work ethic was stronger than anyone else’s at the company, and she didn’t let anything get in the way of her goals.

      Carter gave a brief nod. “Good night, Eve.”

      “Okay, thanks, Carter!” she said with a wave, then settled down into her chair.

      Eve took a sip of the eggnog and grimaced at the thick, creamy liquid. Gross. How did people drink this stuff, anyway? She set it aside on her desk and resumed work.

      The reveling outside in the main area continued for hours. But after a while, it was easy enough to shut it out when she kept her attention on the task at hand. She reviewed the stocks banners and scrawled down notes for her existing clients as discussion points on how to improve their portfolio. She had a hunch one tech stock in particular was going to take off—an up-and-coming company with cutting-edge innovation, from what she’d read—and she wanted to be right on the forefront of it when it did.

      By the time Eve decided to call it a night the entire building was silent and dark. She closed her office door and walked out. Yes, the work day was technically done, but she could do a little more business on her way back home. No sense wasting the time, right?

      She dialed Ted’s number and headed out into the snowy night air, her breath puffing around her in soft clouds. A woman at a food stand called out offering chestnuts, but due to her nut allergy, she declined as she waited on hold.

      The woman said “Merry Christmas,” but the other side of the line answered, and Eve said into the phone, “Hey, Ted, it’s Eve Morgan from Crestlane Financial. I’m just gonna come right out and say it, let the chips fall where they may. I know you’re with West Trade Brokers, and I just wanna—”

      Eve’s high heel slipped on an icy patch, and she hollered in surprise as she flew through the air and fell. Hard.

      Her head thunked on the sidewalk, and a flash of brilliant pain enveloped her before everything went dark.

      Eve blinked her eyes open and looked around in confusion. The room she was in was white, pristine, and she was lying on a bed—a bed that wasn’t hers in a room that wasn’t anywhere she’d ever been.

      What happened? Where was she? Her memories felt scattered, and she couldn’t wrap her head around what led her here, to this strange place. She frowned. Why couldn’t she remember anything?

      “What… ?” she whispered, glancing at the bed—and the white cat lying curled up against her leg in an eerily familiar fashion. Her throat grew tight with emotion as she said, “Snowball?” She reached down to pet his soft fur. Was this real? “Hi, kitty,” she whispered. How was he here?

      No, this couldn’t be possible. Snowball had passed away a long time ago, when she was a kid. She’d loved that cat like crazy.

      “You look just like a cat I had when I was little. Except he had a… black tail,” she trailed off when she shifted the covers to reveal that this cat, too, bore a black tail.

      Something in her chest felt odd. This wasn’t right. Nothing felt normal here. Was she awake? Dreaming? In a hospital bed on drugs? She scooped the cat into her arms and sat up on the white bed, looking around again.

      What is going on?

      “There ya go,” she said, letting the cat onto the floor. It scurried under the bed.

      Nearby was a mirror; Eve stepped up to it and examined herself. She wasn’t wearing her usual dark business outfit. Instead, she had on a silky white dress. I know I don’t own anything like this. Something was majorly off.

      “Miss Morgan,” a light voice said from behind her.

      Eve spun around to see an older woman with bobbed brown hair, her body also clad in all white like Eve, standing right behind her. The woman’s smile was wide and welcoming.

      “Hello. I’m Pearl,” she said in a smooth tone. “I’m going to be with you during this transition.”