The Christmas Gift. Darlene Gardner

online dating?”

      “Hey, don’t look at me like that.” Alex waved both his hands in the air. “Online dating was Grandma Novak’s idea, not mine.”

      Alex called her grandmother Grandma Novak?

      “In my day, we went on blind dates. That’s how I met my wife,” Milo Costas said. With his olive complexion, dark hair and angular features, he resembled a smaller, older version of his son. Milo’s dark eyes fastened on Krista. “She died when Alex was nineteen.”

      Why hadn’t Krista known that? She searched her memory but couldn’t remember Alex mentioning his mother in the past. Then again, they’d probably known each other better in bed than out of it. “I’m sorry,” Krista told Milo.

      “Don’t be sorry for me,” Milo said. “I have my memories, my son and great next-door neighbors. It’s a wonderful life.”

      Grandma laughed. “Milo works that line in every year. It’s his favorite Christmas movie.”

      “It’s his favorite movie, period,” Alex said. “The dogs we had when I was growing up were named George and Bailey after the Jimmy Stewart character.”

      “That’s right,” Milo said. “I got your grandmother to stock it at the store, too. The holiday movies are big sellers.”

      Krista put down her fork, the better to concentrate on the conversation. “People buy movies at the nursery?”

      “Not the nursery, the Christmas Shoppe,” Milo said.

      Krista blinked, trying to dispel the haze clouding her brain. “What Christmas shop?”

      “The one your grandmother runs next door to the nursery,” Milo said.

      The fog Krista was trying to plow through got even thicker. Beside her, she could almost hear Alex asking why she hadn’t known about the store.

      “We opened November first.” Grandma seemed to sit taller in her seat. “Our specialty is lighted yard art.”

      Considering her grandmother’s love of Christmas, the shop was a logical extension of the nursery business. Had Krista really been so out of touch that the new venture hadn’t come up in conversation? She talked to her mother every month or so, although lately Krista made excuses to get off the phone when her mother started pressuring her to visit.

      “Why don’t you come see the shop tomorrow, Krista?” Grandma asked. “If you want, you can even help. We have a lot going on.”

      “Sure,” Krista said through a tight-lipped smile. She would prefer avoiding the nursery altogether but would never admit that to her grandmother.

      “Great!” Her grandmother clapped her hands. “I’m going to love having you home! I might not let you go back after the new year.”

      “If she stays that long,” her father muttered.

      “Of course she’s staying!” Krista’s mother exclaimed. “It’s the holidays. There’s no reason for Krista to hurry back to Europe.”

      Krista avoided looking at Alex. “Actually, there is. I’m supposed to meet friends in Switzerland the day after Christmas for a ski trip.”

      “You can’t go back that soon!” Krista’s mother insisted.

      Krista steeled herself against her mother’s protests. As soon as she was through with dinner, Krista intended to book her return flight. She wouldn’t be in Pennsylvania at all if her mother hadn’t manipulated her. “I already paid for the trip, Mom. The reservation’s nonrefundable.”

      Krista’s mother stuck out her lower lip. “What if I were still in the hospital?”

      “You’re not,” Krista’s father interjected. “Leave the girl alone, Ellie. If Krista has to go back, she has to go back.”

      Krista reached for her glass of water to wash down the tight feeling in her throat. Next to her, she was aware of Alex watching her silently.

      So much had changed since Krista had left Pennsylvania, yet one thing remained constant—her mother didn’t want her to leave, but her father couldn’t wait to shove her out the door.

      Krista didn’t blame him, especially because she was the one who’d put him in the wheelchair.

      CHAPTER TWO

      KRISTA WOKE TO THE SOUND of silver bells.

      As a child snuggled under her warm blankets, Krista used to listen for the bells until she fell asleep. They’d dangled from the wreaths that hung from her bedroom window, tinkling together with every gust of wind.

      Krista’s room had been her refuge while she was growing up. She’d never tired of the glow-in-the-dark yellow stars her father had put up on the ceiling, insisting that one day she’d travel to the moon. In her teens, she’d plastered the walls with posters of more realistic places to visit—Venice, Paris, Rome, London.

      Now that bedroom was a home office, and Krista was sleeping on the sofa bed in the basement recreation room. So why had she still heard the bells?

      They jingled again. Pushing the cloud of hair from her face, Krista sat up in bed. Something sleek and white leaped onto the chair opposite the sofa bed and stared at Krista from glistening green eyes. It was a cat with bells on its red collar. Since when did her family have a pet?

      “Where did you come from?” Krista asked aloud.

      With sinewy grace, the cat jumped down from the chair and disappeared, the bells tingling together in its wake. Krista was about to lie back down when she caught sight of the bedside alarm clock.

      Nine o’clock!

      She didn’t even sleep that late in Prague, where it was already partway through the afternoon. Krista should have asked what time to be ready to leave for the Christmas shop and set an alarm.

      She scrambled out of the sofa bed and hurried to her open suitcase. Since it was carry-on size, her wardrobe choices were limited. She yanked out dark slacks and a plain red sweater that was as Christmassy as her wardrobe got.

      Ten minutes later, after using the bathroom in the basement that was adjacent to her sister’s empty bedroom, Krista hurried up the stairs. The smell of brewing coffee assailed her before she reached the kitchen.

      A young woman sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a coffee mug, her long blond hair parted in the middle and tucked behind her ears. A newspaper was spread in front of her but she didn’t appear to be reading it.

      If they’d been anywhere but inside the house, Krista might not recognize the woman as her sister, Rayna. The twenty-one-year-old’s face was thinner and her hair much lighter than when Krista had last seen her.

      Feeling her mouth curving into a smile, Krista started toward her sister. “Rayna! You’re so grown up!”

      Rayna lifted her large dark eyes from her coffee mug. Her lips were unsmiling, her body language distant. “I heard you were home.”

      Krista stopped midstride, her hands dropping to her sides. She blinked sudden moisture from her eyes, annoyed with herself. Only a fool would expect a warm welcome after so many years apart. “I got here last night but crashed early because of the time difference.”

      Rayna said nothing.

      Krista cleared her throat. “I came because Mom called me and made it seem like she was really sick.”

      “A few days ago, she was really sick. Her skin was gray and she was so run-down she could barely stand.” Rayna’s eyes didn’t waver from Krista’s face. “Then she started vomiting blood. Nobody knew why when we got her to the emergency room.”

      Krista hugged herself, disturbed by the frightening scenario her sister was describing. “The doctors must have figured it out pretty quickly.”

      “Not