Chapter 10 - CHRISTMAS IN FEBRUARY
Victoria’s arrest did not fix Gideon.
Justice rarely worked that quickly.
There were hearings.
Investigations.
Headlines.
Vale Group stock lost thirty percent.
Three executives were arrested.
Two federal agents were indicted.
Malcolm confessed to obstruction, fraud, and helping Victoria fake her death.
Rebecca Hall was found alive in Montreal.
She agreed to testify.
Juniper’s death certificate was amended.
Cause of death: digoxin toxicity resulting from unlawful medical administration.
Gideon held the new document for twenty minutes.
Then burned a copy in his fireplace.
Lena found him.
“Why?”
“Because she was more than how she died.”
Lena smiled.
“That sounds healthy.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’ve met you.”
By February, Lena and Norah returned to their apartment.
Gideon hated it.
He said nothing.
That mattered.
He did not offer to buy them a mansion.
He did not install guards without permission.
He did not use money to make himself indispensable.
He asked.
“Can I arrange security?”
Lena said yes.
“Can I pay?”
“No.”
“Can my company?”
“No.”
“Can I exploit a tax loophole so technically society pays?”
She stared.
“That was a joke.”
“You need practice.”
Their relationship developed slowly.
Coffee.
Phone calls.
Dinner with Norah.
Arguments.
Gideon discovered Lena hated mushrooms.
Lena discovered Gideon secretly watched terrible baking competitions.
Norah discovered both facts and weaponized them.
Evan remained in Chicago.
That was complicated.
He wanted Lena back.
Lena did not know what she wanted from him.
“You loved him,” Gideon said one evening.
“I did.”
“Maybe you still do.”
She looked at him.
“Are you trying to send me back to my husband?”
“I’m trying not to become the man who benefits from his absence.”
“That is annoyingly honorable.”
“I dislike it too.”
Evan eventually solved the problem himself.
He met Gideon outside Norah’s school.
“You love Lena?”
Gideon did not answer.
Evan smiled.
“That obvious?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t belong to me.”
“I know.”
“I lost the right to ask her to wait six years.”
“You were protecting her.”
“I was also afraid.”
Evan looked toward the school.
“I became so obsessed with keeping them alive that I forgot being part of their lives mattered too.”
Gideon understood that.
Evan extended his hand.
“Don’t replace me as Norah’s father.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“But be whatever she asks you to be.”
Gideon shook his hand.
That afternoon, Norah ran outside carrying a paper crown.
“We’re having Christmas.”
Gideon frowned.
“It’s February.”
“I missed Christmas.”
She had.
Christmas Eve had been abduction, hospitals, terror.
“So we’re doing it again.”
Lena approached.
“She has been planning this for three weeks.”
“February Christmas?”
“Apparently.”
That Saturday, Gideon opened Juniper’s house.
Not his house anymore.
Not exactly.
Everyone came.
Lena.
Norah.
Evan.
Adrian and Sophie.
Marcus.
Shaw.
Even Rebecca, quietly, because Gideon had decided forgiveness did not require pretending harm never happened.
They decorated the tree.
Norah placed Clover beneath it.
Then she disappeared upstairs.
Gideon found her outside Juniper’s bedroom.
“Can we go in?”
He hesitated.
Then opened the door.
Dust floated through afternoon light.
Norah walked toward the stuffed triceratops.
She did not touch it.
Gideon picked it up.
Held it.
Three years.
Then offered it to her.
Norah shook her head.
“No.”
Gideon was surprised.
“You wanted it.”
“It’s Juniper’s.”
“She would have liked you.”
“You don’t know.”
He smiled.
“No.”
Norah considered.
“Would she be mad that I sit in her chair?”
“Probably.”
“Why?”
“She was territorial.”
Norah smiled.
Then Gideon placed the dinosaur back.
He opened the curtains.
Sunlight filled the room.
That was enough.
That evening, Lena found him beneath the mistletoe Norah had deliberately taped above the kitchen door.
Gideon looked up.
“This seems manipulative.”
Lena nodded.
“She learned from billionaires.”
“I’m a millionaire now. The stock price has been difficult.”
“Tragic.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“Lena.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know whether what I feel is grief attaching itself to someone who understands it.”
Her expression softened.
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t want to use you to heal.”
“Good.”
“And I don’t want Norah to become a substitute for Juniper.”
“She won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you say Juniper’s name.”
He frowned.
Lena touched his chest.
“People trying to replace the dead erase them. You don’t. You carry her with you.”
Gideon’s eyes filled.
“I’m afraid.”
“So am I.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
“It isn’t supposed to be.”
She stepped closer.
“We can be afraid and still see what happens.”
He looked at the mistletoe.
“Did Norah coach you?”
“Extensively.”
Then Lena kissed him.
Softly.
No orchestra.
No dramatic declaration.
Just two wounded adults allowing themselves one good thing.
A crash came from the pantry.
They jumped apart.
Norah emerged.
“I wasn’t spying.”
“You absolutely were,” Lena said.
“I was getting cookies.”
“You hate oatmeal cookies.”
Norah thought quickly.
“I’ve changed.”
Gideon laughed.
May you like
For the first time since Juniper died, Christmas existed inside his house again.
It simply happened to be February.
