Evergreen (12 page)

Oh no. John closed the door behind him. Raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, Uncle John.” The puppy shifted in his arms, and the blanket dropped away, showing a wriggling mass of brown-and-white fur and oversize, floppy ears, giant paws. Romeo nearly dropped him, then pulled him to his chest. “He was the runt, and he was so cold, I tucked him in my jacket and sort of . . .”

“Brought him home.”

Romeo lifted a shoulder.

The swift, sharp memory of Owen holding a fidgeting Butterscotch could nearly take John’s breath away. He walked over to the dog and settled his hand on its head. The animal had blue eyes that searched John’s. Oh, boy.

“He won’t be any trouble; I promise. And . . . he’s a good dog; I know it. I think he just needs someone to care about him and make sure he doesn’t get forgotten and hurt and . . . Maybe I could just keep him over Christmas?”

John looked at Romeo, a near man at seventeen. Wide shoulders, sparse blond whiskers layering his chin, his hair too long, and compassion in his eyes. The makings of a hero.

“I think you should keep him longer than that,” John said quietly. “I think you need to give him a home.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. We’ll go over later and officially adopt him from the shelter. Merry Christmas, Romeo.”

Romeo smiled then, the fear breaking free, his eyes clear, bright. “Merry Christmas, Uncle John.”

Indeed. John somehow found his voice. “I think there’s breakfast waiting for you. And I’ll bet this little guy is hungry.”

The puppy tucked himself against Romeo’s shoulder, licking his face. John followed him out of the room and down the stairs.

Ingrid looked up at them. Her mouth opened. “Is that a
 
—?”

“A puppy!” Tiger squealed and jumped up from the floor.

“Seriously, John?” she said, but she grinned as Romeo bent down to hand Tiger the puppy.

“Careful now,” Romeo said. “He’s scared, but he just needs a little TLC.” Tiger giggled as the puppy bathed his chin.

“I think Santa left you something,” Ingrid said to Romeo, gesturing toward the hearth.

A thick stocking with Romeo’s name stitched on the cuff hung from one of the pegs.

He walked over to it. Touched his name, then unhooked the stocking. Brought it to the sofa, where he pulled out a pair of socks. Gloves. Then a hat. And his own chocolate Santa.

He looked up at Ingrid, at John. “I . . .”

“Everybody needs a stocking with their name on it,” Ingrid said softly.

Romeo grinned, then reached for his new gloves, trying them on. Tiger ran over with his LEGO kit, the puppy biting at his feet. “Wanna help me build my new LEGO? It’s an airplane with propellers!”

“Sure,” Romeo said and slid to the floor while Tiger dumped out the pieces. Romeo gathered the pup into his lap.

Ingrid watched them a moment, and John had no doubt that a reel from the past played through her mind. Probably Darek helping Owen, or maybe even Eden and Grace dressing their new Barbie dolls.

Or maybe a vision of the grandchildren they’d have, filling the house with chaos and laughter and joy.

He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. “We’ll call the kids later. But I have an idea. After dinner, would you be open to a small trip on Christmas Day?”

They pulled up to the block-long, three-story brick building, parking in the lot across the street. Snow banked the lot, freshly plowed, and light pooled over a few cars, some covered by a thick layer of snow and ice.

Ingrid took the tinfoil-wrapped container of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy from the back of the Caravan. Romeo carried a plate of cookies, and John grabbed the wrapped present, something small Ingrid had kept for this kind of moment.

They walked up to the back door, and the security guard buzzed them in, a middle-aged man with kindness on his face. “Upstairs to the left is the foyer. They’ll buzz you in.”

The place had all the charm of a European boarding school, with the musty cement walls, the scent of institution in the polished marble floors, the stoic furniture. Ingrid perched on the end of a straight chair as the receptionist took their names, then placed a call.

In a moment, she appeared, dressed in jeans and a Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt, her hair long and braided down the back. Thinner than Ingrid remembered, she wore her trials on her face even as it broke into a smile at the sight of her son.

“Romeo!” Kari opened her arms, and he enveloped her in his embrace, standing a whole head taller. As she closed her eyes and clung to him, Ingrid slipped her hand into John’s.

He’d listened. Without her even asking, he knew.

Kari released Romeo and turned to Ingrid.

Silence passed between them. Then, “Hey, Sis,” Ingrid said.

Kari brushed a tear from her cheek. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here for Christmas
 
—”

“Yes, we did,” John said quietly. “You’re family, and we didn’t like the idea of you spending it alone.”

She gave a half smile, shrugged, and Ingrid recognized the gesture.

“We brought turkey and stuffing. Mom’s recipe.” She reached out and pulled Kari into a hug.

Her sister resisted a moment, then sank into the embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“It was John’s idea,” Ingrid whispered back.

Kari pulled away, looked at John. “I’m so grateful for all you’ve done. I know it’s been a lot of trouble, but I
 
—”

“No trouble at all, Kari.”

She wiped her cheek. “The doctors say I could probably be out by the end of January. Can you keep him until then?”

John glanced at Romeo. “He’ll always have a home with us.”

Ingrid took John’s hand again as the receptionist buzzed them into the facility. Romeo walked with his arm around
his mom’s shoulder, his voice lifting as he told her about football and the live Nativity, his Christmas stocking, Butter, and his new puppy, Bud.

She gave John’s hand a squeeze. “And what exactly are we going to do with Romeo and Bud when we visit Amelia in Prague?”

“Don’t toy with me, woman.”

“Oh, John,” she said, turning to him, pulling him into her embrace, laughing. “I’m just getting started.”

Dear family and friends,

A warm Christmas greeting from snowy northern Minnesota!

As many of you know, our property was devastated a year ago in a forest fire. We watched as the flames took our cabins, our history, our livelihood.

I had no idea it might be the beginning of a string of farewells.

John and I found ourselves
 
—expectedly, of course
 
—with an empty nest this year. And while I’d prepared for it, the swiftness with which it swept into my life, like the turning of the seasons from autumn to the stiff winds of winter, took my breath away.

We bid Amelia good-bye at the airport in Minneapolis, bound for a year of education in Prague, and I returned to the emptiness and winter in my heart.

Not that I didn’t have joy. With Darek and
Ivy’s wedding Memorial Day weekend, and Eden’s celebration of marriage to Jace Jacobsen (the former captain of the St. Paul Blue Ox who is now on their coaching staff), I delighted in welcoming two new children to the family. We’re thrilled that Grace, our family chef, has also found her true love, as she is engaged to Maxwell Sharpe. (You know him as a wing for the Blue Ox.)

However, we also said good-bye to Casper as he headed to Roatán, Honduras, to seek treasure in an archaeological dig, and to Owen, who is finding new footing.

And then we lost our beloved Butterscotch. It felt like too many good-byes.

But that’s the magic of a good-bye
 
—it makes way for something new. An unexpected hello.

We love living in the north because the seasons are ever changing. But there also remains a constant. It’s a miracle how, when an evergreen burns, the pinecones burst open, dropping seeds into the fertile soil of the charred land. Saplings now edge our property, sprouts of green against the white landscape.

In the wake of good-byes, life endures. Even flourishes.

New life came first in the form of our nephew Romeo, who stayed with us this fall and during the Christmas season. And then in the news that John and I will be welcoming another grandbaby
 
—Darek and Ivy are expecting in the spring.

But more than that, all this sudden room in our lives allowed John and me to take a full breath. To find ourselves in the midst of the winter landscape surrounded by beautiful, tender evergreens, look at each other, and say, “Hello. You’re still here?”

Indeed, we are. Flourishing in the fertile soil of our years together.

We’re headed to Europe this Valentine’s Day to renew our vows, leaving the newly reopened resort in our eldest son’s capable hands. And then back to the resort for a new season.

Come and visit us! We’re waiting with a warm hello.

With love from Evergreen Resort,

Ingrid and John Christiansen

S
USAN
M
AY
W
ARREN
is the bestselling, Christy and RITA Award–winning author of more than forty novels whose compelling plots and unforgettable characters have won acclaim with readers and reviewers alike. She served with her husband and four children as a missionary in Russia for eight years before she and her family returned home to the States. She now writes full-time as her husband runs a resort on Lake Superior in northern Minnesota, where many of her books are set.

Susan holds a BA in mass communications from the University of Minnesota. Several of her critically acclaimed novels have been ECPA and CBA bestsellers, were chosen as Top Picks by
Romantic Times
, and have won the RWA’s Inspirational Reader’s Choice contest and the American Christian Fiction Writers’ prestigious Carol Award. Her
novel
You Don’t Know Me
won the 2013 Christy Award, and six of her other books have also been finalists. In addition to her writing, Susan loves to teach and speak at women’s events about God’s amazing grace in our lives.

For exciting updates on her new releases, information about her previous books, and more, visit her website at
www.susanmaywarren.com
.

1. At the beginning of
   Evergreen
   , John is working on a plan to surprise Ingrid with a trip to Europe. What did you think of his idea . . . and Ingrid’s reaction to his proposal? Have you ever planned a big surprise for someone you love
    
   —or been on the receiving end of one? How did it turn out?
   
2. John and Ingrid have very different feelings about the approaching empty nest season in their lives. While John is excited about new opportunities, Ingrid struggles to let go of her children and wrestles with doubts about how her family has turned out. How have you approached new phases in your own life? With excitement? Anticipation? Regret? Fear?
   
3. When the Christiansens’ dog, Butterscotch, gets sick, John and Ingrid initially disagree over whether to spend their savings on her surgery. Whose perspective did you agree with? Why?
   
4. Romeo has grown up believing the Nativity story is a fairy tale. To help him understand the real-life story, John encourages Romeo to imagine himself in Joseph’s position, dealing with the news of Mary’s pregnancy. Have you ever pictured the Christmas story through the eyes of the participants? Whom do you most relate to? How does John himself end up connecting to Joseph’s role?
   
5. Although John and Ingrid have what most would consider a happy marriage, their past together contains some deep wounds. Ingrid is surprised to find her anger at John resurfacing when she thought she’d gotten over it years ago. Is there a difference between moving on from something in the past and truly resolving it? How does Ingrid ultimately put the past to rest?
   
6. John offers to sign Romeo’s emancipation papers, allowing him to enter the military, but is surprised by Romeo’s less-than-enthusiastic reaction. Why does Romeo respond the way he did?
   
7. Both Butterscotch and Romeo fill a place in Ingrid’s heart left empty by the loss of her last child. Was this a healthy way to deal with her grief? Has there been
   a time when you tried to replace a loss in a similar way
    
   —or had someone try to replace it for you, as John did in giving Butter to Ingrid?
   
8. Facing a Christmas without most of her family around, Ingrid is reluctant to celebrate or even to decorate her house. Can you think of a celebration that didn’t live up to what you hoped, or of a tradition
    
   —like the live Nativity
    
   —that seemed to be dying out over time? What traditions have you let go of as life changed? Which have you held on to? Why?
   
9. John has always believed that protecting Ingrid is part of his job
    
   —in everything from making decisions about having more children to keeping her from getting her heart broken when Romeo leaves. But Ingrid tells him, “We can’t live our lives trying to protect ourselves from getting hurt. And you can’t live your life trying to protect me.” When have you struggled with a desire to protect someone you love or to protect yourself from getting hurt?
   
10. As he walks through the Christmas story with those gathered for the live Nativity, Pastor Dan suggests, “Maybe . . . you’re Mary, and God is simply asking
    you to be willing to say yes to whatever He asks.” How does this hit home for Ingrid? What would it mean for you to say yes to whatever God asked?