We'll Always Have Christmas: A gorgeously uplifting Christmas romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Epilogue

  We’ll Always Have Christmas

  A gorgeously uplifting Christmas romance

  Jenny Hale

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  A Christmas to Remember

  Jenny’s email sign up

  Also by Jenny Hale

  A Letter from Jenny Hale

  All I Want for Christmas

  Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses

  Coming Home for Christmas

  The Summer House

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Noelle Parker breathed in and let the aroma of Christmas overtake her. The fragrances of peppermint and hot chocolate mixed with the smell of spruce trees filled the air. Christmas shoppers, bundled in hats and winter coats, were chatting as they gathered around the edges of shops, pointing to the display windows full of sparkly packages and Christmas trees, while others bustled by with smiling faces, despite the cumbersome bags they carried. The sky above was a blanket of white, the clouds promising the possibility of snow. A choir further down the street was singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” in the background.

  Noelle pulled her coat tighter, the cold slithering down her collar, despite her scarf, making her shiver. She felt like a block of ice from the freezing temperatures during all the window-shopping she’d done with her best friend, Jo Phillips. As she walked by market stalls overflowing with impulse gift items, Noelle noticed the absolute joy on everyone’s faces, their relaxed chatter and festive spirits.

  Even though she was trying her best to embrace the holiday mood, Noelle could feel the tension in her back and, while she hadn’t brought up the big reason she’d asked her friend to meet her today, she’d have to sooner or later. She couldn’t put it out of her mind forever. While she hated to admit yet another setback to Jo, who seemed to have her life in perfect order all the time, Noelle knew that Jo was the one person who could make her feel better. Because everything was changing this year, and Noelle was hoping for some Christmas magic to make things right again…

  Chapter One

  Noelle made her way gingerly across the icy cobblestones and entered the coffee shop, feeling the shock of warmth on her skin.

  “Will you get me a latte? No extras,” Jo asked. Her caramel-brown hair fell in shiny waves onto her belted wool coat as she turned to scan the crowd, the coffee shop door swinging to a close behind them, shutting out the Christmas music. “I’ll find us a table.” She handed Noelle a ten-dollar bill and disappeared behind a group of women who were alternating between chattering and bursting into rounds of laughter, their table full of cakes and cookies, a pile of Christmas novels in the center.

  Usually the holiday crowds warmed Noelle, but this year was different. The small counter was teeming with customers, all holding carrier bags in various shades of red and green, their joviality jarring with her feelings, only serving as a reminder of her changed circumstances. When Jo had mentioned she was spending the day shopping, Noelle knew it would be the perfect opportunity to see her friend and clear her head. She’d made the twenty-minute drive into the city to talk to Jo, who could always keep a level head and give the best advice.

  She unwound the chocolate-colored chunky-knit scarf her colleagues had gotten her for Christmas, before they’d all gone their separate ways, their jobs taken from them. A company in New York had acquired the firm Noelle had worked for, and they had laid off nearly everyone to replace them with the new company’s chosen employees. Her life was uncertain once more. This hadn’t been the way she’d expected to finish off her year at all.

  She stepped into the line at the counter. Finally, left alone with her thoughts, the fear that had made her call her friend to meet her in the first place crept in again, so she peered over at the pastry window to try and take her mind off it.

  An insignificant pedestal held a few mass-produced cookies, their icing drawn on like one giant color-by-number pattern. Scattered around it was an assortment of cupcakes, the choices unoriginal—vanilla with white icing and a plastic Christmas tree jabbed into the center, and chocolate with matching sprinkles. The selection didn’t hold a candle to the offerings back home at Hope and Sugar, the bakery her family owned.

  Hope and Sugar Bakery was a tiny stone historic house, nestled in a miniature yard full of buttercups, creating a golden two-foot plot between the street and the cobbled entrance every summer. It was the epitome of charm: built in the seventeen hundreds, it had a modest glass-paned door and original slightly wavy-glassed double bay windows that they used for display. Inside, around the fire, her gram had made a small sitting area years ago with a comfortable sofa and a few padded chairs where folks could get a cup of coffee and a specialty pastry, and warm up as the snow fell outside. The bakery had a special place in Noelle’s heart.

  She took a step behind the person now ordering, her attention on the coffee choices. Once she’d settled on something, Noelle dug around in her purse for a few bills, Jo’s ten still wadded in her fist, trying not to think about how she shouldn’t be spending money on frivolous coffees. It was all going to be okay, though, because she had a plan. Gram had told her once that dreams become reality the minute one has a plan. Whenever anyone was in crisis, Gram had a strategy to help them, and Noelle, having such a similar personality to Gram, had learned th
at skill very well.

  Noelle ordered the coffees, handed the barista a wad of bills, giving her name for the order, and took the change over to Jo, dumping it onto the table along with the receipt, a dime rolling away and finally stopping with a clatter, coming to a rest next to Jo’s phone. Her friend ignored it, her face crumpled in concern. Noelle had avoided opening up while they’d been shopping, waiting for the right moment to share her worries, but there was a part of her that just wanted to close her eyes and sink down into the chair with her coffee and her best friend first.

  “Noelle?” the barista called, waving two paper cups, decorated with little dancing Christmas trees, with red plastic lids and cardboard rings around them.

  Jo stood up. “I’ll get them,” she said, leaving her chair, her coat draped on the back of it.

  Noelle looked around at the white lights in the windows, the Christmas tree in the corner, the plastic holly on every table, before the whole terrible situation finally felt real. She remembered Gram saying, “Cheer up, darling. When things get tough, we always have Christmas to make them better.” Then she’d wink at her and toss her a gumdrop from the glass dish on the bakery’s counter.

  Noelle shrugged her own coat off and twisted to put it on her chair, smiling her apologies for nudging the person beside her. What had she been thinking, agreeing to meet Jo on a Friday during the start of the Christmas season? Normally she’d have been at work today, but as Noelle had neglected to tell her friend when she’d said she needed to have coffee, she didn’t have a job to go to anymore. Jo had immediately agreed to meet her, obviously sensing something was wrong—she could always tell. They’d known each other forever. Jo, short for Joanne, had never gone by her full name. They’d first met when Noelle’s parents had moved into their new home when Noelle was eight. Jo had come over with her mother to bring a freshly baked loaf of bread as a housewarming gift. Noelle and Jo had crawled under Noelle’s bed that day and shared all their secrets as if they had been friends for years. Jo told her about the tree in her back yard where her friend Phoebe Nichols swore that whenever she wished, the wishes always came true. Noelle had met Phoebe the very next day. From then on, the three of them had become inseparable, walking to and from school together every day, having sleepovers, and taking care of each other into adulthood. When she needed optimism, Noelle called Phoebe, but when she had to hear it straight, she called Jo.

  Jo returned, setting one of the cups in front of Noelle and plopping down dramatically. “How’s Lucas?” she asked, sliding her bag under their table with her foot, out of the way of other patrons.

  “He’s great,” Noelle said with a smile at the mention of her son.

  “Good,” Jo said, blowing a lock of hair off her forehead. She tucked it behind her ear and it still looked like she’d spent hours on it. But then again, she had the money to buy the most expensive products; her haircut probably cost a fortune. How different their lives had turned out to be.

  Ready to conquer the world, Jo and Noelle had applied to the University of Virginia, both of them getting acceptance letters, but when Noelle found out she was pregnant, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to juggle classes and still make enough money to support herself and a child. She and her boyfriend, Rich, hadn’t dated terribly long when she’d found out she was pregnant. She’d met him at a bar one weekend and she’d been taken by his quick wit and warm smile, and the way he’d treated her like a lady.

  At the end of the night, she’d given him her number and he’d called her to go out for a date. That date turned into two and then three and, before they knew it, they were an item. But, while she felt herself falling for him and she could tell her feelings were returned, their relationship just hadn’t grown deep enough to support the emotional weight of having a baby. What completely blindsided her was that he’d seemed almost spooked about the baby from the beginning and, when they’d finally called it quits, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with his child.

  Noelle was devastated and heartbroken, but not for the loss of her relationship—she could get over that. She was heartbroken for the loss of a father for her child. Rich moved away, and, while she could’ve hunted him down for money to help with Lucas, she didn’t want anyone in her son’s life who didn’t completely adore him, so she’d let him go. She had raised Lucas with the help of her parents, Gus and Nora, working her way through temp jobs and supporting them both.

  Meanwhile, Jo had gone on to law school. She now worked at a firm in Richmond and was married to a doctor. But despite all her success, Jo had remained the same over the years, and she was always there to pull Noelle through the hard times.

  “Okay. You’ve been very quiet and in your head all morning. Spill,” Jo commanded, her full attention on Noelle as she looked at her over her cup, the steam from the coffee dancing in front of her face.

  “They just let us go,” Noelle said, still in disbelief. She’d told Jo about the takeover as soon as it had happened, but she hadn’t wanted to worry her friend about the possible consequences of it until it was final. “The executives all got severance packages, but I was hourly, so I only got this month’s pay in full.” Noelle had worked her way up at the property management firm where she’d been employed for over the last three years. She’d had her own accounts, and she was managing a small staff. She’d heard rumblings that layoffs were coming, but she’d been in denial, never believing they would actually do something like that during the holidays.

  “Heartless.” Jo shook her head. “You know if you need anything…” she began, but Noelle stopped her with a look.

  It was the same look she’d given her when Jo had offered to help with Lucas’s hospital bills when he was born. While her friend was very sweet to offer, Jo knew better. Noelle would never take handouts.

  “What’s your next move, then?”

  It all seemed silly now, but Noelle had imagined biding her time until she took over Hope and Sugar Bakery.

  When the time came, and Pop-pop was ready to retire, she’d leave her job to run the bakery, hopefully having enough saved to put her own stamp on it. After Gram died, Pop-pop threw himself into work at Hope and Sugar, and Noelle often thought he channeled his grief into running the bakery. She wondered if by keeping it alive, he felt he could keep Gram alive in a way. Her mother and father were helping Pop-pop until he could retire, because he just wasn’t financially able to yet, despite the fact that he was seventy.

  “I’ve moved back in with my parents.” Just saying it out loud made Noelle want the floor to open up and swallow her. Everyone she knew had created their perfect lives: they had their own apartments and houses; they’d gotten married; they had babies. And in two days, Noelle had been able to pack up everything she and Lucas owned, sublet her apartment, and move back with her parents. The idea of her son not having a permanent home made her more uncomfortable than anything ever had. She’d always told him, “This is just a stop on the way to where we belong,” but every time she said it, she worried that she wouldn’t deliver. She suppressed the urge to shake her head in disbelief, her pride not allowing her.

  “Minor setback,” Jo said, offering her a napkin. Jo could always make her feel better. Of the three of them—Noelle, Phoebe, and Jo—Jo was the one with the no-nonsense answers, Phoebe was the dreamer, and Noelle was always making plans. Jo fluttered the napkin in the air.

  Noelle only realized just then that the lid on her coffee hadn’t been placed on tightly and she’d dribbled some down her sweater. If they’d served it in a mug like Gram, she thought angrily, but stopped herself. It wasn’t the coffee shop’s fault that she was in a foul mood. With a huff of irritation, she blotted the spot.

  “Tell me your plan. You always have one.”

  Noelle slid her scarf back onto her shoulders and, repositioning it to cover the coffee stain, she said, “I asked my dad if I could work at the bakery, maybe pick up an extra Christmas shift or something. He said he’s wanted to talk to me about it. I’m going by to s
ee him and Pop-pop after this. But in the meantime, Heidi found me a full-time job, until we sort things out at the bakery.”

  Jo’s eyebrows raised. She wrapped both hands around the paper cup, revealing her new manicure and David Yurman ring. “Heidi saves the day!” she said with an upbeat smile. “Your sister is the best!”

  Heidi was five years older than Noelle, and she had been a kind big sister to her growing up. She’d always included Noelle and her friends, painting their nails, doing their hair, and all the great things big sisters could do, she did. She looked out for them, and it was Heidi whom Noelle looked up to. Heidi had been the first to learn about Noelle’s pregnancy and about her decision to forego college. She was just old enough to have more wisdom than Noelle, but young enough not to give her a judging eye. So when she’d lost her job, Noelle had turned to Heidi first.

  “What’s the job?”

  “Well, Heidi saw an inquiry on the noticeboard in the staffroom at the country club where she works: someone looking for a caretaker for an elderly man. Apparently, calls had been made to the club to see if any of their on-staff physical therapists were available. When no one showed interest, the notice was put up and it was mentioned that discretion should be used, as this was a lucrative client, but to pass the word along. I called the woman on the notice and nailed the phone interview.”