Christmas Surprises
Sequel to Jaded Wife
To Have & to Hold, Book 4.5
Marlowe thought she knew everything about her family. She was wrong.
On Christmas Eve, two discoveries shatter her world. One fills her with unexpected joy. The other threatens to unravel the bonds she holds most dear.
With her husband Björn's unwavering support and a little Christmas magic, Marlowe embarks on a journey of forgiveness, acceptance, and second chances. Because sometimes the greatest gift isn't wrapped under the tree, and the best Christmas surprises are the ones that bring families closer together.
A heartwarming Christmas novella about family, love, and the courage it takes to accept the people we cherish, even when they surprise us.
Note: Reading Jaded Wife is necessary before starting this story.
They let themselves in, closing the door behind them quietly. It was a mild relief to her that the house was warm and well lit, with the Christmas tree on and the fridge humming gently in the kitchen. She could smell the sweet scent of spices and fruit, and knew at once that it had come from her mother’s favorite candles. At least nothing seemed to be overtly wrong.
“Mom?” she called softly, almost reluctant to disturb the silence that seemed to drape the interior of the house. Together, she and Björn circled the lower floor, noting that dishes had been washed and put away, and the table was pristine with its white lace tablecloth and ornamental center wreath.
Nothing but quiet.
They nodded at each other, deciding to go upstairs. As she began to climb the steps, she felt oddly breathless, maybe even a little dizzy, but figured it was the result of stepping in from the cold outdoors to the warm interior without taking off her coat. But who had time for that?
Once on the landing, she could see her mom’s bedroom door, slightly ajar. “Mom?” she asked again. She was sure she heard a sound—a low moan—and Marlowe’s blood chilled. What if her mom had a stroke which robbed her of the power of speech? Maybe she’d hit her head and was lying, dazed and hurt, on the rug.
She pushed the door open slowly, with Björn keeping close behind—and there was a shriek coming from her mother’s bed. Marlowe’s own shriek echoed back, and her hands came up involuntarily to clap over her mouth as the full realization of what she was seeing came home to her.
Her mother was naked, hair tousled, straddling a man who was equally naked. One hand was on her breast while the other clasped her butt, and the sheets all around them were in tangled disarray. Against her mother’s dark brown skin, the man’s white skin gleamed.
Marlowe figured her vision must be going, because for a moment she thought she knew the guy, but then dismissed the thought as impossible. Surely, she was mistaken….
And then, standing beside her in equal shock, was Björn. His voice was low, rasping and horrified as he croaked out a single query, “Pa?”
