Silver Bells. Mary Burton

as it was, had ceased to exist months and months ago. Her credit cards were maxed out. She lived day to day.

      She’d wigged out. How cool was that? More tears flowed. Ben was going to pitch a fit when Hank told him what she’d done. Chloe licked at her tears. God, how she ached to hold her sons.

      Coming here to her friend’s small apartment had seemed like the answer to all her problems. She’d gotten the idea when her best friend in Apple Valley, a first-grade teacher named Marie, had said she was going home to Seattle for the holidays. She’d given her the key and asked her to check on Chloe from time to time.

      Her intention was to veg out, to fall back and regroup. To take bubble baths, to eat when and if she felt like it, to drink wine while she was soaking in a tub, and to sleep peacefully through the night with no interruptions. It hadn’t happened that way at all. She was lucky if she slept two hours a night, and what sleep she got was fitful. There was no bathtub to luxuriate in, only a stall shower. She didn’t have money for wine, and Marie didn’t have cable television. She, too, lived on a budget.

      The only thing she proved to herself was that she was an unfit mother. A slacker as a wife. She wasn’t Supermom, and she never would be. That title would have to go to someone else, someone a lot more worthy than she.

      Did the twins miss her? Probably not. Churchill hated her, so there was no point in even asking herself if the big golden retriever missed her. He probably hoped she never came back. The tears flowed again. She looked like a witch with the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair needed to be cut and styled.

      Alice’s wild pacing led her to the bathroom and the huge mirror on the back of the door. Well, if nothing else, she’d shed a few pounds.

      What did Hank think about what she’d done? How was he coping? She wished she knew what he’d told Ben. Ben was going to be so disappointed in her.

      Alice splashed cold water on her face, combed her hair, smoothed down the sweat suit she’d arrived in, and tidied the apartment. She made sure Chloe had bowls of food and water not only in the bathroom but the kitchenette, too. She cleaned the two litter boxes and put in fresh litter. She set the thermostat to seventy and sat down to drink her fifth cup of coffee. She didn’t need this fifth cup of coffee. She was killing time, and she knew it. She’d made a mess of things, and now it was time to stand up and take the blame for what she’d done. She started to cry again. Like tears were really going to help her out.

      It was totally dark now. Christmas Eve. It had always been the happiest time of the year, at least for her. Ben, too. How often they talked about how perfect life was here in Apple Valley. Especially at Christmastime. And she’d ruined it all. Her. No one else. She’d single-handedly ruined everything for everyone with her stupid actions. How in the name of God was she ever going to make this right?

      By going home, a voice inside her head whispered, You go back, you stand tall, you apologize and get your life back. After…after she hugged and kissed her two little boys. She had to apologize to them, too, not that they would understand, but she’d do it anyway.

      Still, she didn’t move. Because…because she was a coward.

      Alice stood up, drained her coffee, then washed out the cup and cleaned the coffeepot. She took one last look around the tiny apartment, checked on Chloe one last time by giving her a hug before she settled her in her little bed next to the sofa. She turned out all the lights, put on her heavy down jacket, and left the apartment.

      Outside, Alice hunkered into her jacket as she made the long trek back to her house. There was little traffic, the citizenry of Apple Valley were secure in their houses, building fires, having dinner, and getting ready for the big man in the red suit.

      It was bitter cold, and the tears escaping her eyes were freezing on her eyelashes. She barely noticed as she trudged along. She had to walk along the roadside because of the piled-up snow. Her sneakers were cold and wet. She’d never been more miserable in her entire life.

      When she reached her neighborhood, Alice climbed over the banks of piled-up snow onto the shoveled sidewalk. How pretty it all looked, with the snow on the evergreens and the colored lights on the houses and in the trees.

      Christmas in Apple Valley.

      Soon the church choir would be out caroling. She and Ben always went caroling since they belonged to the choir. She’d had to give it up when the boys came along. She’d had to give up everything when the boys came along. Even Ben. She knew the thought was unfair. She’d known what it meant to marry a military man when she agreed to marry Ben. She had no one to blame for her circumstances except herself.

      Alice rounded the corner to her street and stopped short when she noticed the crowds of people at Albert Carpenter’s house. Then she smiled when she saw the front porch that was decorated to the nines. For sure the Apple Valley prize would go to this piece of property. How sad that Albert would never know how loved he was.

      It looked to Alice like everyone had brought something to add to the decorations someone had been kind enough to set up. The tree was magnificent, with its twinkling lights. The boys would love the reindeer and the sleigh packed with gaily colored packages. Small statues lined the steps. Santas, elves, ceramic Christmas trees. Gossamer angels trailing red ribbons dangled on wires from the beams on the porch.

      At first glance it all looked cluttered until you saw the homemade drawings, the cards tacked to the pillars that held up the porch. And then your second glance said it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

      Alice tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She just knew she was the only person in town who had not left something on that wide, wonderful front porch. Well, she would have to remedy that as soon as she could. Not because Ben would never forgive her if she didn’t, but because she wanted to. No, that was wrong, she needed to do it.

      Alice wondered if there was anyone in the whole world who understood what she had been going through with the exception of Albert Carpenter. She’d poured out her heart to him so many times these past months. For his comfort she’d knocked herself out trying to take care of him—she cooked for him, cleaned his house, shopped for him, and did his laundry. Not that there weren’t others who would have helped, but she hadn’t asked. She’d wanted to do it because he was like a wise old grandfather, and he dearly loved Ben and Hank and a little girl named Mandy Leigh. No, she was not Supermom or super anything. She was just plain old Alice Avery Anders. Triple A Alice, as Ben called her from time to time.

      Alice moved on, and soon enough she was standing at her own front door. She turned the knob, but the door was locked from the inside. How stupid. She’d given Hank her keys. She rang the bell. The door opened. All she could do was stand there with tears in her eyes. Hank stretched out his arms, and she stepped into them. “Oh, Hank, I’m so…”

      “Shhh. You don’t need to apologize for anything. I’m just so damn glad that you’re home. God, I can’t tell you how glad I am. Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there.”

      Alice stepped back and stared up at her brother-in-law. “I…need…”

      Hank placed his index finger against Alice’s lips. “No, you don’t need to do anything but love those kids of yours. They’re in the family room waiting for you.”

      Alice shrugged out of her jacket and ran to the family room. Like Hank, she vaulted over the gate and gathered up her twin boys, holding them close. Churchill and Miss Sadie vied for her attention. “Oh, God, I forgot about Miss Sadie. C’mere, you little bundle of love.”

      Hank backed away and bumped into Mason, who was wiping the corners of his eyes. “It would appear the lady of the house has returned. What would you suggest I do, Mr. Anders?”

      “Well, after I introduce you to your new employer, you might want to go home to your own family and enjoy Christmas.”

      “Unfortunately, Mr. Anders, I don’t have a family.”

      “In that case, Mason, how would you like to spend the holidays with us? As our guest.”

      “I