Cherished Christmas Memories

By Lisa Perkins

The Leones have always loved Christmas, but this year is different. After the death of a close loved one, Marcus is having a difficult time getting into the Christmas spirit. His grief is causing insomnia, and trying to prepare for the Christmas show without sleep is challenging.

 

Marissa is facing her own troubles that make Christmas difficult for her, as well. Being stalked by a man seeking revenge and blamed for her ex-husband's death is hard for her to endure. But powering through difficult situations has become second nature to her.

 

When a last minute trip to Chicago gets them caught in a snowstorm, they're forced to extend their stay. Will they make it home in time for their Christmas performance? Can Marissa's love ease the pain of Marcus' grieving heart? Will Christmas ever be the same?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Perkins
• Release date: Oct 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215339602

Lisa Perkins

Lisa was born in Parkersburg, West Virginia. She loved to read teenage romance novels growing up. She was blessed with a vivid imagination and the ability to tell stories in great detail. When she got older, her hobby became photography. She loved taking pictures and capturing moments in time forever. Storytelling, in one form or another, has always been her wheelhouse. As a teenager, she created a world with characters that she loved dearly. She abandoned that world as an adult and moved on to other things. One day, she revisited that world and those characters. She decided to take the story and make it into a book. Having never written a book before, she wasn't sure how it would go. The second she sat down to write, the story just poured out of her. That one book turned into two, and a series was born. She always had a love of dance and took dance lessons as a child. Her love of dance is what inspired her books and how The Dancer Series was created.

Book preview

Cherished Christmas Memories

Lisa Perkins

This is a work of fiction . All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

This book is dedicated to my blind Alaskan Malamute, Dasher. He pulled me from the dark place and gave me the desire to write again. My two year old rescue boy ended up rescuing me. I love you to the moon and back, Dashy.

Cherished Christmas Memories

A Dancer Series Spinoff

Chapter 1

Marcus

I think the tree looks better next to the window, I say, trying to decide on the best location for Mom’s Christmas tree in the theater room. 

I agree. That’s a good spot for it. It makes the room look cozy, Marissa says, standing back and looking at it from the middle of the room.

I only saw pictures of the tree in Mom’s house, but she always had it next to the window in the living room, I say, moving the tree away from the fireplace and next to the window.

"Then it should be next to the window," she says, watching me center the tree in its spot.

We kept Mom’s tree, ornaments, and a lot of her Christmas decorations from the house. I just couldn’t part with them. We love Christmas and always do a lot of decorating in our big house, so I knew we’d be able to find a place for her tree and decorations.

Is it centered properly? I ask, moving it a little to the left.

It looks perfect right where it is. You should plug in the lights to see how they look next to the window, she suggests, inspecting the tree from the middle of the room.

That’s a good idea, baby, I reply, taking the cord and plugging it into the wall.

Suddenly, the tree comes to life. The beautiful multi-colored lights shine brightly, giving the room a Christmasy ambiance. I know Mom would be happy we’re using her tree. She used to send me pictures of it every year, and now it’s decking the halls of our theater room.

What a cute candy cane ornament. It looks homemade, she says, taking it out of the box of ornaments and admiring it.

I made that for Mom when I was in the third grade. Our class made them for our parents. She had it on the tree every year since I gave it to her. She loved that stupid thing, I say with a smile.

It’s not stupid. It’s special, because you made it. And it was obviously very special to her, she says, holding it up and inspecting it closely.

She was very sentimental about things like that, I say, walking over and rummaging through the box with her.

I love this one with your family photo on it, she says, pulling it out of the box.

She had that one made several years ago using one of our family portraits, I reply, watching her look the ornament over.

Her ornaments are all so special, she says, carefully putting it back in the box.

She took Christmas very seriously. All her ornaments and decorations had to be special, I say, smiling at the thought.

We rummage through the boxes for a little while, then start placing the ornaments on the tree one by one. As we’re decorating the tree, I feel more and more like Mom is here with us. It’s so hard without her, but I know she’s still with me...just like Dad has been all these years.

Once we’re finished putting all the ornaments on the tree, we stand back and admire our work. It looks beautiful. I think Mom would be pleased with it. I miss her voice of approval so much.

All of a sudden, Marissa’s cell phone rings. She walks over to the end table and picks it up, glancing down at the screen. I watch as she swipes the screen to answer and lifts the phone to her ear.

Hi, Daddy. What’s up? she asks, walking across the room.

As she’s engaged in a conversation with her dad, I turn my attention back to the tree. Suddenly, I’m reminded of Christmas when I was eight years old. I remember helping Mom and Dad decorate the family Christmas tree in the living room of our house.

Would you like to put the candy cane you made me on the tree, honey? Mom asks, holding it up to admire it.

No...you can do it, Mom. I made it for you, I say, staring up at the half decorated Christmas tree.

I think it should go right in the center of the tree. That way, everyone can see it, Dad says, looking at her.

I agree. Honey, why don’t you put it on the tree, she says, handing it to him.

I’d be honored, he says, taking it from her and placing it on the tree, directly in the middle.

Perfect. I’ll cherish it always, she says, staring at the tree with a smile on her face.

We suddenly hear the timer going off in the kitchen. Dad looks at her, then she turns to look at the clock on the wall. She must be baking something.

It’s time to take the cookies out of the oven. Who wants to help me ice and decorate them once they're finished cooling? she asks, looking at us.

I do, I say, raising my hand and jumping up and down at the same time.

It looks like he beat you, David. You were too slow volunteering, she says, winking at him.

I guess so. I just can’t compete with the expert cookie decorator and taste tester, he says, looking at me and smiling.

Okay, you two finish decorating the tree and I’ll go take the cookies out of the oven, she says, walking over and giving Dad a kiss before leaving the room.

THE MEMORY PUTS A SMILE on my face. Christmas is so different this year without my mom, but at least I have my memories. Nothing can take them away from me.

That was Daddy. He just heard from Dale that there’s been a lot of robberies in this area lately, and he wanted to warn us about it, she says, laying her phone down on the end table.

It’s that time of year. I’m glad we have an alarm system and security cameras, I reply, leaning in and planting a kiss on her lips.

Me, too. You can never be too careful. I'm going down to Mom’s and help her make Christmas cookies for the ladies at her boutique. Do you want to come with me, or do you have something else to do? she asks.

Actually, I have some online Christmas shopping to do. I think I’ll stay here and try to make some progress with that, I say, looking into her eyes.

Okay...I think Mom’s making dinner for us as a reward for my help, she says, glancing at the clock on the wall.

That sounds good, baby. I’ll come down for dinner. I want you to have some time with your mom.

Okay. I’d better get going. You’ll be okay here alone? she asks with concern in her voice.

I’ll be fine. I just need to get some shopping done, and I have to put away the decorations we didn’t use, I reply, reaching out and taking her hand.

I just worry about you. I know how hard Christmas is for you this year without your mom, she says, looking into my eyes.

I love you so much, Riss. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, I say as my eyes meet hers.

I love you, too. You don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere, she says, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

Good, because I couldn’t make it without you, I say as our lips part.

I’d better get going. I’ll give you a call when it’s almost time for dinner. If you finish everything on your to-do list early, come on down, she says, walking over and grabbing her phone from the end table.

I’ll do that. Give your parents my love, I say as we walk out of the theater room and head downstairs to the entryway.

Daddy’s not home. He’s out shopping for Mom’s Christmas gifts, she says, taking her coat out of the closet and slipping it on.

That sounds fun, I reply, chuckling.

Yeah, I’m sure we’ll hear all about it at dinner this evening, she says, taking her keys out of her handbag then sliding it over her shoulder.

I walk her to the garage entry door and give her a long, soft kiss. Her sweet scent is so intoxicating. I never grow tired of smelling it.

Have fun with your mom. I’ll miss you, I say, giving her one last kiss for the road.

I’ll miss you, too. I’ll give you a call later, she says, giving me a beautiful smile that makes me weak in the knees.

I’m looking forward to it. Be careful and I love you.

I love you back. See you soon, she says before walking out the door.

I stand in the doorway and watch as she gets into her Mercedes, starts the engine, and backs out of the garage. Once the garage door starts to lower, I step inside and close the door. I miss her already.

I grab my laptop from the kitchen table and head into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, I open the laptop and start browsing through the online shopping sites. For some reason, I just can’t seem to concentrate on the task at hand.

Christmas is hard this year. It’s the first one without my mom and I’m having a hard time dealing with the fact that she’s gone. We won’t be buying gifts for her this year, or receiving her huge boxes filled with gifts for everyone from FedEx. The thought of it fills me with sadness and pain.

I close my laptop and set it down on the coffee table. Leaning back against the couch, I stare up at the ceiling. I have to snap myself out of this funk. It’s Christmastime and I don’t want to bring everyone down...especially Marissa.

I have a happy marriage and I love my wife more than life itself. She’s been a tremendous help to me through all of this. I can only imagine what kind of shape I’d be in if I didn’t have her in my life.

Maybe I need a nap. Once I’m recharged, I’ll be better able to focus on what I need to do. I lay my head down on the pillows and cover myself with my mom’s favorite throw. She used to cover herself with it while watching TV, and it still faintly smells of her.

I stare at the Christmas tree until my eyes start getting heavy. I almost feel guilty lying here when there’s so much to be done. Finally, I give in and let myself drift off to sleep.

I SUDDENLY FEEL SOMEONE sitting down next to me on the couch. Marissa must have come home early. I slowly open my eyes and see my mom sitting next to me on the edge of the couch. I’m shocked to see her. She’s never come to visit me like my dad does. I rub my eyes and take a closer look. It is her.

Mom? I ask, sitting upright on the couch.

Merry Christmas, sweetheart, she says as a smile spreads across her face.

Merry Christmas, Mom. It’s so good to see you. I miss you so much, I say, keeping my eyes peeled on her.

I know, honey. I’ve been so worried about you since...well, you know, she says in her soothing voice.

It’s so hard without you. You always made things better somehow, I say as tears fill my eyes.

I wish I could take away your pain, but this is something that’s out of my hands, sweetheart. I’m still with you, just in a different way now, she says with a comforting smile.

I’ve gotten used to that with Dad, but not with you. You’re supposed to be here with us like you’ve always been, I say, wiping the tears that fall down my face.

I know it’s all new to you, sweetheart. But I’m always with you, just like your dad. We’re watching over you together now, she says, watching me wipe away the tears.

You missed Cassidy and Jeremy’s wedding. She was sad you couldn’t be there to watch her getting married, I say, sniffling.

I didn’t miss it at all. Your dad and I were both there watching. She looked absolutely stunning in her wedding gown, and you looked so handsome walking her down the aisle. It was a beautiful wedding, she says with a look of pride on her face.

You were there? I ask, surprised.

Your dad and I were both there. We saw everything, she says, smiling at me.

Are you going to visit me like Dad does?

Of course I will, honey. We’ll both visit you from time to time. And even when you can’t see us, we’ll still be with you, watching over you all. I haven’t left you, Marcus. I’m just with you in a different way now, she says in a reassuring voice.

I miss you, Mom, I say softly, watching her slowly fade away before my eyes.

I have to go now, Marcus. I’ll see you soon. I love you, honey, she says as she disappears into thin air.

I love you, Mom, I say to the empty space in front of me.

My eyes quickly open and I take a look around the empty room. I must’ve been dreaming Mom was here with me. It seemed so real. Her visit was just like the ones I’ve had with Dad for so many years. His visits have always given me a feeling of peace, and so did hers. It’s strange being visited by her like this. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’s gone.

I sit upright on the couch and stare at the empty space where she was sitting in my dream. She should be here with us, but instead, I’m without both of my parents now. A single tear falls from my eye and rolls down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away and get up from the couch.

I need to go upstairs to the theater room and put away the decorations we didn’t use. There’s no point in sitting around feeling sorry for myself. It won’t change anything, and I have things to do.

As I’m walking out of the living room, I turn and look back at the spot where Mom was sitting next to me. Expecting to see her sitting there, I’m disappointed to see nothing but empty space. I sigh, then turn and slowly head upstairs.

Chapter 2

Marissa

I t looks like you have everything all ready to go, I say, staring at the fixings all laid out on the kitchen island.

I’m not messing around. We have six dozen cookies to bake, and there’s no time for dragging our feet, Mom says, instructing Alexa to play Christmas music.

Six dozen? When did it become that many? I ask as White Christmas begins to play softly in the background.

When your father mentioned a few of his friends I had forgotten about, she replies, shaking her head.

It looks like we have our work cut out for us. We’d better get started, I say, walking over and grabbing an apron from the hook on the pantry door.

I thought Marcus would come with you and be our taste tester, she says, tightening the strings on her apron.

He wanted to do some online Christmas shopping and put away the decorations we didn’t use. He said he’d join us for dinner, I reply, walking back over to the island.

Well, good. I’m making a roast with potatoes and carrots. I know he likes that. How’s he doing? Christmas must be hard for him this year without Laura, she says, rolling out the dough with the rolling pin.

He’s doing as well as can be expected. It’s been very hard for him. He tries to carry on with the season as usual, but I can tell he’s hurting. Laura was a big part of his life, I say, cutting the dough with a cookie cutter.

It was hard enough on him losing his dad, and now he’s lost his mom, too. I feel so bad for him, she says, reaching for the snowman cookie cutter.

Me, too. It’s just not fair. And if losing her wasn’t enough, having to fly back and forth to Chicago and deal with her estate has taken a toll on him, too.

How are things going with that? she asks, cutting the dough into snowmen.

The house is still on the market. We all went through her belongings and kept what we wanted, then Marcus gave the rest to her friends, I reply.  I’m glad Cassidy and Jeremy kept her Jeep. It makes a nice winter driving vehicle, she says, looking me in the eye.

Marcus was happy they wanted to keep it. I don’t think he would’ve been able to let it go, I say, cutting snowflakes into the dough with the cookie cutter.

They both have luxury cars, so a four-wheel drive vehicle is nice to have for winter driving. And it’s special because it was Laura’s.

They’ve already used it a few times, I reply, watching her roll out more dough with the rolling pin.

I appreciate your help with the cookies, Riss. I know you’re busy getting everything ready for Christmas, she says, rolling out the dough.

No problem, Mom. It’s Sunday and I don’t have much to do. We finished decorating the theater room earlier, and that was the last room we had to decorate, I say, reaching for the reindeer cookie cutter.

I’m glad we decided to hire professionals to decorate our house. This house is too big for us to do it ourselves. I honestly don’t know how you two decorate your big house yourselves, she says, shaking her head.

We hire professionals to decorate the outside, but we enjoy doing the inside ourselves. Tomorrow, we have to decorate the dance studio, I say, looking her in the eye.

This is such a busy time of year. It seems like there’s just not enough hours in the day to get everything done, she says, setting the rolling pin aside and reaching for the Santa cookie cutter.

When will Daddy be home? I ask, glancing at the clock on the wall.

I’m not sure. He said he had shopping to do and errands to run. It’s hard to tell. I know he’ll be home in time for dinner. He wouldn’t miss that, she says, chuckling at the thought.

That’s for sure, especially since you’re having roast, I reply, cutting the dough into snowflake shapes.

Indeed. This is fun. Making cookies like this with you reminds me of when you were a little girl and I taught you how to make them, she says, looking at me and smiling.

I remember being fascinated by making Christmas shaped cookies from a blob of dough, I reply, shaking my head and smiling.

Put your apron on, Marissa. You should always wear one when you’re baking. You wouldn’t want to get your clothes all dirty.

Okay, Mom, I say, slipping the apron over my head.

I’ll roll out the dough with the rolling pin, then you can take a cookie cutter and cut out shapes in the dough.

Okay. Why do you use that rolling pin thing? I ask, confused.

To flatten the dough. If I didn’t use it, the dough would be a big blob. You can’t use a cookie cutter on a blob. The dough has to be flat, she says.

Oh...

Okay, Marissa...it’s nice and flat now. Grab a cookie cutter and push it into the dough.

Which one? I ask, looking at all the cookie cutters lying on the table.

It’s your choice. Which shape do you want your Christmas cookies to be? she asks, watching me stare at the cookie cutters.

I think I’ll make snowman cookies, I say, taking the snowman cookie cutter from the pile.

Good choice. Push it into the dough, then carefully lift it up, she says, watching me closely.

I do as she says and when I’m finished, I have  snowman shaped dough. I’m so excited. I made it all by myself.

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