Chapter 1

Dillon and Briar, dressed in their footy pajamas, sat on big pillows on the floor with a huge bowl of buttered, salted popcorn between them. We couldn’t say which of them was more excited for the show to start. They’d both seen A Charlie Brown Christmas last year, but at only six years old, they didn’t remember anything other than Snoopy and Woodstock. How wonderful to have things you loved so much be like new again.

“How much longer, Mama?” Briar asked Dulcie, as she had every two minutes for the last quarter hour.

“What time does the clock say?” Dulcie was always one to insert organic education whenever possible.

Little Briar, with her raven-black hair and sapphire-blue eyes, pinched her lips and squinted at the clock on the fireplace mantle. After a few seconds, she casually leaned over to Dillon. “What time do you think it is?”

In his analytical way, my son talked his way through the problem. “When the little hand is on a number, that means it’s that number o’clock. Each number is five minutes, and eleven is the last number before the new o’clock. The big hand is on the eleven. The little hand is almost on the seven.” Except he had a hard time with l’s so his words came out eweven, wittow, and awmost.

Once she had all the facts, Briar calculated, “That means five more minutes until seven o’clock.”

“Excellent work, my darlings,” Dulcie praised. “You two make such a good team.”

I stood at the windows that covered the back wall of our house. Something my husband had insisted on rather than just a window here and there like the architect had drawn on the blueprints.

“If we’re going to live next to a lake,” Keven stated, “I want to see it every time I enter this room.”

He was so right. Tonight was cloudy, but I could just make out the still-unfrozen water through the darkness. And another surprise.

“Look.” I pointed outside. “It’s snowing. Can you believe it?”

It had been a chilly start to winter in northern Wisconsin. The mercury flirted with the freezing mark every night but hadn’t dipped below thirty-two. We’d woken to frost a few mornings, but this was the first snowfall.

The kids leapt off their pillows and raced over to see.

“Can we make a snowman, Mommy?” Dillon begged while pressing his face to a window, his breath fogging the glass.

“We’ll need a bit more than fifty-four flakes,” I teased, “but as soon as there’s enough, of course we will.”

“Fifty-four?” He squinted, doing a mental calculation, then stared at me, unamused. “I think there’s more than that.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed and gently poked him in his ticklish ribs. “Should we put on our coats, go outside, and count?”

He burst into a fit of giggles, and not just from my tickling. “Count snowflakes.” Snowfwakes. “That’s silly.” Siwwy.

We worked on L’s every day. Lily-livered yellow bellies was his favorite tongue twister. Secretly, I loved how he couldn’t say them correctly, and a part of me was okay if my boy stayed wittow and didn’t figure them out for a while.

“We can’t go outside now,” Briar objected, pointing at the television. “It’s starting!”

They darted back to their pillows. I forced myself away from the windows and then settled into my spot on one of our two sofas. Television reception wasn’t the greatest up here in the sparsely populated Northwoods. Thank heavens Keven had that huge antenna installed.

He claimed the setup was for our entertainment, but I knew he’d done it just as much for himself. The Green Bay Packers were going to play the Oakland Raiders in the second World Championship Game in a couple weeks, and he wasn’t about to miss it. Tonight, I especially appreciated both the new color set and the antenna because the Peanuts gang was on. I loved them as much as the kids did. I mean, what could be better than a quirky bunch of kids forming unbreakable bonds and becoming friends in this crazy world? And as a bonus, there were few adults around to muck things up. Perfect!

Dulcie handed me a Bloody Mary. “Your turn to choose our sip word.”

I took a sip of her signature concoction while considering the options. Yum. She’d made them with an extra kick tonight. I’d never tasted Bloody Marys as good as hers and joked that magic must be one of the ingredients.

“Charlie Brown,” I announced.

“Too easy. We’ll be blitzed in the first ten minutes, and I’ll have to make more mix.”

Dulcie made her own Bloody Mary mix, of course. Her mantra was, why waste money buying something you can make yourself? And that way you know what’s in it.

“More mix would be a shame.” I winked. “No, a little holiday buzz is fine, but we’re parents and must remain responsible and in control. How about blockhead?”

She thought for a moment. “Not sure that’s said enough. Maybe we need two words.”

“Good grief? Except that’s a phrase.”

“Nope, it’s perfect.”

She plopped down on the other side of the sofa and snuggled beneath the white and gold windowpane quilt with appliques of green holly leaves and red berries. We’d worked it every night since summer and finished only two weeks ago. We clinked our glasses together, then took a sip, to prime the pump, and turned our attention to the screen.

The first time a character said Lucy’s name, Dillon and Briar turned to me, confusion clear on their faces.

“That’s your name, Mama Lucy.”

For the first month after they moved here, Briar didn’t know what to call me. Certainly not Mama. Mrs. O’Shea was too formal for someone she lived with. Lucy was too informal, although I told her that was my name and she could use it if she wanted to. She called me “Mama Lucy” one morning at breakfast, and it stuck.

“There are lots of people named Lucy,” I explained. “Just like there are lots of Dillons, Briars, and Dulcies in the world.”

Dillon’s expression made it clear he wasn’t sure he believed that. There was no way he could gather facts to prove or disprove it right now, though, so he let it go without a challenge.

As the show progressed, my joy over watching it again intensified. Dulcie’s magic Bloody Mary might have assisted with that, but it was the season that really did it to me. I loved Christmas. The kids’ excitement grew by the day. Keven would get home the day after tomorrow and stay for a good long stretch, at least a month. And, most exciting of all, this was our first Christmas in our new home. I was so grateful Dulcie and Briar were here to celebrate with us.

I was perfectly content watching the show, then came the scene where Charlie Brown goes out to buy a Christmas tree. Lucy tells him to get a nice aluminum one. The bigger the better. I couldn’t help but glance at the glittering silver thing standing ten feet away from us.

“Isn’t it cool?” Keven asked as he put it together the first time five years earlier. “They make them right here in Wisconsin. At the Aluminum Specialty Company in Manitowoc. This will be way easier than putting all those tinsel strands on a real one. And no needles to sweep up.”

I couldn’t argue with him. There was no need for tinsel on this tree. We covered it with plenty of white lights, which glistened off the silver “needles,” and added red ball ornaments.

“What’s wrong?” Dulcie asked, then sipped her Bloody Mary. “Oops. They didn’t say blockhead or good grief.”

“Penalty sip,” I scolded, and we both took a drink.

“Okay, why are you so serious all of a sudden?”

We’d spent days decorating the house to perfection. Wreaths, garland, lights, and candles. Colorful stockings hung from the mantle. We even made a beautifully crooked gingerbread house. And then, there was the silver monstrosity.

“I’ve always hated that tree.” I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Don’t tell Keven.”

“Glad you said so because I agree.” Dulcie turned to face me and pulled her legs up in front of her. “We’re surrounded by trees here. I’ve never seen so many in my life.”

Two thousand acres filled with pines of every size. I thought Keven had gone loopy when he told me one night at dinner nearly three years ago that he wanted to buy the property. There were times I still thought this was excessive. What would we do with all this land?

“How about,” Dulcie continued, “we go for a hike after breakfast tomorrow and find the perfect Yule tree?”

“Yule?”

“Tomorrow is December 21st, the winter solstice. It’s the longest night of the year. Then the days become longer, which means more sunshine, or at least daylight. Each tick of the clock will bring us closer to being able to garden again.” She gave a happy sigh. “It’s one of my favorite days of the year.”

Beautiful Dulcie with her waist-length dark hair and big rich-brown eyes had a lot of favorite days. Most of them revolved around the phases of the moon. I knew she’d love it here in the wilds of Wisconsin and was thrilled when she agreed to move here with adorable Briar. Dillon and I missed Keven horribly when he was away for work, which he was often, and sometimes got a little weary of it only being the two of us. We still missed him, but now we had our best friends with us every day.

“So a Yule tree is . . .”

“Basically the same thing as a Christmas tree. It just depends which holiday you celebrate.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Yule is the day to celebrate the winter solstice. The ancient Egyptians honored the sun god Ra and viewed the growing sunlight as a sort of life conquering death thing. Ancient Romans brought evergreen boughs into their homes to symbolize the slowly lengthening days and the return to green, fruitful crops. The Celts considered the boughs to mean everlasting life. Even the Vikings honored evergreens and the sun. Christians in Germany introduced the modern-day Christmas tree by bringing trees inside and decorating them.”

I loved listening to her explain things like this. She was so passionate about her beliefs.

“Many people felt that evergreens kept illness, evil spirits, ghosts, and witches away.” She grinned wickedly at that. “For me, since the needles of an evergreen don’t turn brown like leaves, the trees symbolize everlasting life. Some pagans bring live potted trees into their homes. That way woodland spirits have somewhere warm to live during the cold months. Then they plant them outside in the spring.”

“It’s a little late for that this year,” I noted.

Briar and Dillon burst out laughing when Charlie’s poor little tree bent over from the weight of the single ornament he’d hung on it. Dillon clutched his belly, laughing so hard he rolled off his pillow.

“It is,” Dulcie agreed about the live tree. “We could still bring an evergreen into the house. We can choose one from your forest, ask for permission to bring it home, and decorate it in the spirit of Yule.”

And she literally would ask the tree for permission. I was a little worried the first time I’d heard her talking to her plants. It didn’t take long, though, until I was doing the same thing.

I glanced at the silver tree and back at my friend. “Keven will be shocked.”

“Keven will love what we bring into his home.”

It took maybe two seconds for me to agree. “Our first Christmas in our new home calls for something special. He can set up his aluminum tree somewhere else if he can’t live without it.”