Nina grinned. At that moment, she looked every bit like Chloe Essex, the woman who was really her mother. Jack wondered where Chloe was now, if she was alone, if she had family who loved her as much as the Whitmores loved one another. It must have been strange for Chloe to try to compete with Benjamin Whitmore’s love for Francesca. Their love was complicated, but it was unforgettable, the kind of love that moved mountains. The kind of love that lasted decades, even without seeing one another.
Dinner was pork chops with sweet potatoes and brussels sprouts, plus biscuits with decadent salted butter. After the rest of the Whitmores arrived, including Alexander and his family, they all sat around the table, preparing to dig in, just as lights flashed from the driveway. Nina hurried to the window and said, “It’s Allegra’s car!” And then, “Mama’s here!”
The Whitmores scrambled to their feet, eager to make Francesca comfortable. Soon, the beautiful, queen-like womanappeared in the foyer, unbuttoning her coat and hanging it up with a frail arm. When her eyes found Benjamin’s across the foyer, she raised her chin, then flashed him with a beautiful and captivating smile. Benjamin cleared the distance between them and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful, darling,” he said.
Francesca whispered back, “I look ill and old.”
Benjamin shook his head and kissed her cheek again. “You look every bit as beautiful as ever. You’re the reason we’re together today. You’re the reason we want to celebrate.”
Jack watched as his father guided Francesca to the head of the table, where Allegra poured her a glass of sparkling water and asked if she wanted an alcohol-free champagne. Francesca chortled at that. The concept of “alcohol-free” was entirely un-Italian. But when she tasted it, her eyes glinted, and she asked for a little bit more. “Who knew they’d come up with something like that?” Francesca said with a smile.
Charlotte was in charge of the music. The speakers piped out Christmas hit after Christmas hit, usually sung by some of Francesca’s favorite Italian singers. Francesca draped her hand across her chest and swooned. “It takes me all the way to my girlhood in Tuscany,” she explained. “I can picture it so well. I can picture my mother baking, and my father setting up the tree.” The rest of the Whitmores waited, wondering if she was going to mention Angelo in this setup, but she seemed to know better.
“I hope you kids have beautiful Christmas memories here,” Francesca said, her voice thin.
“Are you kidding?” Alexander laughed, a pad of butter melting across his raised biscuit. “I tried to recreate all my Nantucket Christmas memories with my kids over the years. The problem with that, of course, was that it was Los Angeles. Too warm for anything like that. Maybe you can relate to that, Jack?”
Jack smiled. “We had beach Christmases.”
“It wasn’t the same,” Alexander said, smiling over at his children, Xavier, Conor, and Gwen, all of whom had taken to Nantucket living beautifully.
“Imagine what it’ll be like here next year,” Nina piped up. “We’ll be busy with lodge guests. We’ll host a big Christmas feast for islanders. We’ll have a grand party in the ballroom!”
“Yes,” Charlotte said, smiling.
“But we should be grateful for what we have right now,” Benjamin interjected. “This is all I want this year. My family. My favorite people in the world.” He stared down at his mostly untouched plate, as though he was too in his head to think about eating. “I can’t tell you how often I thought of you all over the years. I can’t tell you how often I wanted to take it all back. But we’re here, now. We’re together. And we’ll be together every Christmas for the rest of my life, I hope. It would be the greatest gift I could imagine.”
Francesca reached across the table and touched Benjamin’s hand. They shared a moment, one that felt sharp with emotion.
And then, another set of headlights flashed across the dinner table, glinting across the silverware.
“Who could that be?” Allegra asked.
“I think everyone’s here,” Nina said, furrowing her brow. She pulled her napkin off her lap and went to check, calling out behind her. “It’s a Chevy? Black. Relatively new model. Does anyone know someone with that?”
It was then that Jack realized Charlotte was staring at him. Her eyes told him something was up, that there was something she hadn’t told him. A feeling of cold panic rushed through him.
“What?” he whispered.
Charlotte tilted her head. “Nothing.”
“What do you know?” Jack demanded.
The headlights cut out in the driveway. There was the sound of slammed doors.
“Looks like some kids,” Nina called from the window. “I’ll answer it.”
Nina disappeared into the foyer. Jack’s heart thudded with wonder.
“Mine aren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow,” Allegra announced. “Unless I got the date wrong?”
“It’s tomorrow,” Lorelei affirmed. “They’re coming with mine.”
The front door opened. Nina cried out, “Oh, it’s you!” in a way that suggested she knew one of the people who’d come. All of the Whitmores looked at one another quizzically. And then Jack heard the sound of Kennedy, crying out, “Wow, this place is insane!”
Jack leaped to his feet so quickly that his chair fell behind him. He pulsated with disbelief. Maybe he’d imagined what he’d heard? But a moment later, Penelope answered Kennedy, saying, “It’s like a castle.”
Jack bolted from the table and rounded the corner to find his three children, removing their winter boots and winter coats and shaking snowflakes from their hair. When they saw him, their faces went white with shock. They probably looked just like his.