Anna DeStefano's Blog, page 2

WIN a $10 AMAZON GIFT CARD: Waiting for Your Love’s PRE-ORDER Giveaway@

Party and WIN great prizes at WAITING FOR YOUR LOVE’s Release Party–RIGHT HERE on the blog ;O)

So many of you have not only written saying how excited you are to get your hands (and readers) on WAITING FOR YOU LOVE, but that you’re DYING to have giveaways again on the blog site (instead of only social media). AND Facebook’s making reaching my readers and fans ridiculously hard with each passing release…

SO, bets of both worlds time!

EVERY GIVEAWAY for WAITING FOR YOUR LOVE’s release (my new Echoes of the Heart novella launches next Tuesday, June 6th!) will have a blog post here, where you can comment for your chance to WIN (and for a second chance, if you also participate on my Anna DeStefano: Author Facebook Page.

Up first: a $10 Amazon Gift Card giveaway for all who PRE-ORDER WAITING FOR YOUR LOVE between now and midnight, June 5th!

To be eligible in the blog, leave a comment IN THIS POST with her Amazon Order Confirmation Number on or before midnight June 5th. You can also comment on my DeStefano: Author Facebook Page post, for an extra chance to win. Winner randomly chosen on release day from all commenters on both sites!

Then visit my blog daily

and follow me on Facebook (at my Author Page )

all next week and beyond, for more fun chances to win…

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WAITING FOR YOUR LOVE

Releasing June 6th, 20016

“Sweet, sassy, ADORABLE summer fun!”

Friends to lovers should be the sweetest romance of all…

So how did Clair Summerville get herself into such a mess—pretend dating Conrad Lancaster of all people at her family reunion?

Clair can’t lose their life-long friendship. She and Conrad have always been there for each other, no matter how complicated their separate worlds have gotten. Now they’re playing with fire. And one of her best girlfriends, Bethany Darling (from His Darling Bride), is fanning the flames.

Of course kissing and cuddling like lovers in front of Claire’s nosy, controlling family leads to suspiciously “real” couple behavior in private. But no way can she reveal her true feelings for Conrad. Not with her survival instincts clamoring at DEFCON 1.

Clair’s desperate to cut and run, the way she has with every other guy she’s come close to trusting with her heart.
Except this is Conrad. She’s been secretly in love with him and his little boy, Harper, for years. And this is Chandlerville, Georgia, where neighbors have a pesky habit of pitching in—whether you ask them to or not—to make dreams come true. Especially the dreams you want so badly, they shake you to your core.

Looks like these made-for-each-other loners have everything they need to win their long-overdue happily ever after… If only they’d risk their tender hearts one more time.

Or will Clair and Conrad lose their last chance to fight for each other’s love?

Pre-Order TODAY!

His Darling Bride Release Party is LIVE. WIN a $10 Amazon Gift Card!

Party and WIN great prizes all Spring in His Darling Bride’s Facebook Release Party ;O)

First Giveaway–a $10 Amazon Gift Card goes to one lucky guest when we reach 250 readers attending! Click the link. Join us today. You don’t want to miss your chance.

Then visit my blog daily and follow me on Facebook (at my Author Page or His Darling Bride’s Release Party page) to stay in the loop for our Spring Celebration and more fun chances to win…

***

His Darling Bride

Releasing April 26th, 20016

“I love love love this series. It just gets better and better.”

~ 5 STAR GoodReads Review

Bethany Darling doesn’t kiss men at first sight…until she falls into the arms of a handsome cowboy bartender.

A mysterious stranger, Mike helps scare off Bethany’s obnoxious ex-boyfriend. Mike’s touch feels like coming home. But Bethany’s sonot interested. Between stalled-out dreams of becoming a painter, troubles reconnecting with her sprawling foster family, and the happy chaos of her sister’s upcoming wedding, Bethany’s already in over her head. But each time she and Mike stumble across each other in small-town Chandlerville…sparks fly.

A famous photographer hiding under a Stetson, Mike Taylor recognizes Bethany as a kindred artistic spirit. Together they rekindle her passion for painting—and she inspires him in unexpected, undeniable ways. Then when Mike’s own past threatens to tear apart his present, Bethany becomes his safe place to turn.

Can these two wandering souls finally trust their hearts? Or will they run from the forever love they never expected to find?

Pre-Order Today!

SPRING WEDDING Pinterest FUN ;o)

Love Spring Weddings? And “relationships of convenience” that bloom into beautiful romances? And Heartwarming, community-basedfamily stories you can’t put down and don’t ever want to end?  His Darling Bride’s spring release (on April 26th) is for you!

And you just HAVE TO JOIN US at our new His Darling Bride Pinterest Board.

We’ll have giveaways and tons of fun. Re-pin and share on your social media streams as much as you like (to be in the running and to start your spring off with a bang, too!)

There’s also a Family Means…WEDDINGS! Board you’re going to love. Fun stuff coming there, too ;o)

Those who dig Pinterest, dive in.

If you haven’t gotten hooked yet, it’ll be our mission this spring to lure you into the fold and make sure you have so much fun, you don’t want to leave!

Join us for a GREAT Spring ;o)

***

His Darling Bride

Releasing April 26th, 20016

“I love love love this series. It just gets better and better.”

~ 5 STAR GoodReads Review

Bethany Darling doesn’t kiss men at first sight…until she falls into the arms of a handsome cowboy bartender.

A mysterious stranger, Mike helps scare off Bethany’s obnoxious ex-boyfriend. Mike’s touch feels like coming home. But Bethany’s so not interested. Between stalled-out dreams of becoming a painter, troubles reconnecting with her sprawling foster family, and the happy chaos of her sister’s upcoming wedding, Bethany’s already in over her head. But each time she and Mike stumble across each other in small-town Chandlerville…sparks fly.

A famous photographer hiding under a Stetson, Mike Taylor recognizes Bethany as a kindred artistic spirit. Together they rekindle her passion for painting—and she inspires him in unexpected, undeniable ways. Then when Mike’s own past threatens to tear apart his present, Bethany becomes his safe place to turn.

Can these two wandering souls finally trust their hearts? Or will they run from the forever love they never expected to find?

Pre-Order Today!

FREE ALERT! Get Christmas on Bellevue Lane FREE through December 30th

As a special Holiday Surprise for my readers and fans, Christmas on Bellevue Lane is FREE on Amazon for a limited time.

You’ve all sent such great support and love this year, for my traditionally published and indie releases.

I wanted to give something back ;o)

Click HERE to download my latest #1 BESTSELLING novella to your eReader or smart device.

Don’t miss your chance!

***

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

Order on Amazon

Can Christmas in July be saved at the Dixon house?

With holiday carols, glittering ornaments and lots of cheer, Marsha and Joe Dixon welcome their new granddaughter to one of their favorite traditions. Marsha’s excited to share memories of her and Joe’s heartwarming love story, to help Camille feel even more a part of the sprawling foster family her grandparents have nurtured for decades.

But Joe’s struggle to recover from his recent heart attack and bypass surgery threatens their fun, and more than just Christmas in July is at stake. If he doesn’t regain his strength and ability to provide financially and emotionally for his family, the Dixon group home might have to close.
With loved ones rallying around and their treasured holiday tradition working its magic, Marsha’s convinced she can talk Joe into embracing the physical therapy he needs.

Will her and the Dixon clan’s Christmas-in-July wish come true?

Order Christmas on Bellevue Lane today!

WIN Anna’s ENTIRE Christmas Collection!

Tell everyone at our Facebook Holiday Celebration what makes the perfect Christmas story for you, and be in the running to win my ENTIRE Holiday Collection (all three books set in reader-favorite Chandlerville, Georgia)!

Join the party now and comment for your chance to win!

***

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

Pre-order on Amazon

Can Christmas in July be saved at the Dixon house?

With holiday carols, glittering ornaments and lots of cheer, Marsha and Joe Dixon welcome their new granddaughter to one of their favorite traditions. Marsha’s excited to share memories of her and Joe’s heartwarming love story, to help Camille feel even more a part of the sprawling foster family her grandparents have nurtured for decades.

But Joe’s struggle to recover from his recent heart attack and bypass surgery threatens their fun, and more than just Christmas in July is at stake. If he doesn’t regain his strength and ability to provide financially and emotionally for his family, the Dixon group home might have to close.
With loved ones rallying around and their treasured holiday tradition working its magic, Marsha’s convinced she can talk Joe into embracing the physical therapy he needs.

Will her and the Dixon clan’s Christmas-in-July wish come true?

Order Christmas on Bellevue Lane today!

GORGEOUS NEW CHRISTMAS ORNAMENT GIVEAWAY in our Holiday Release Party

We’re talking Vintage Jewelry and Stationary in our November Holiday Celebration over on our Facebook Party Page…

I love these themes/symbols, which I introduced first with the Trifari Jewelry I spotlighted in my Christmas on Mimosa Lane. They’re hard at work again in my newest Holiday Novella.

See our latest excerpt below AND in the link to the party!

ALSO…

We’re giving away this beautiful two-dimensional, sparkly red hummingbird ornament, similar to the treasured memory Marsha and Joe Dixon hang on their tree every year (and during Christmas in July, where our latest holiday novella is set)!

Here’s a sneak peak at how a vintage card makes

it’s way into Marsha and Joe’s story and

onto their tree in

Christmas on Bellevue Lane:

“I want our babies back. I want your parents back. You three gave me the only real family I’ve ever known. Being a part of something like that finally, experiencing it for myself, how could I ask you to give up your chance, our chance, to have as big a family as we can make?”

“But . . .” I could hear it in his voice. There was a “but.” I let him ease me around the mess I’d made, until I was back in his arms. “What are you saying?”

He kissed me, and I couldn’t keep myself from kissing him back. For a few seconds. Maybe a minute. Okay, two or three minutes. Because Joe’s a good kisser, mind you. Not because I’d forgiven him yet.

“But,” I said when I came up for air, “how are we going to have a family if—”

He placed a finger over my lips. “How do you think?”

From the back pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a small white envelope and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I stared at the word he’d written on the front, and my life opened back up.

Our life and everything we were meant to be together felt possible again.

My knees turned to jelly. I leaned into Joe’s hug as I read and reread the single word my dear, sweet husband had written.

MOM

“This is your Valentine’s present,” he said. “Open it.”

And that’s when I saw my cardinals for the first time. There were so many beautiful birds on the card, a whole family of them. They were all so happy. And he wanted them all to be mine.

Ours.

“I’m sorry it’s not bigger.” His bottomless heart was in his eyes. “I wanted a really big one. I looked all over the Hallmark. This was the only Valentine they had with birds on it that seemed right for us.”

“It’s lovely.” I held it to my chest. I still didn’t understand. “But if we can’t have babies, then how—”

“We’ll have all the babies you want.”

Joe brushed his thumb over my lips, my cheek, my eyebrow.

“Or toddlers,” he amended, “like I was when I went into foster care Or elementary-aged children or even teenagers in high school. Whoever needs us, for as long as they need us. We’ll be their second chance at a family, and they’ll be ours.”

“Fostering?”

The way Joe had grown up.

Except this time it would be Joe and me caring for young people who had nowhere else to go. And we’d make sure every single child we brought into our home knew they were loved and accepted and wanted, the way my parents had welcomed Joe into theirs.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.” His smile was hopeful and happy. He was looking forward again to whatever happened next, instead of fearing it.

“We’ll take care of kids like you.” I felt our new dream blooming to life.

“We’ll give them a place to belong and grow, and to learn whatever they need to. They’ll know they’ll always be welcome, even when they age out of the system or go back to their families eventually or are placed in other homes after us. No matter how old they grow, our kids will always be ours. Once a Dixon, always a Dixon. That’s the only rule I’ll insist on. We’ll decide all the rest together. We’ll wing it as we go.”

We hadn’t talked much about his experience with family services. But I knew enough to want to go back and fix all the hurt he’d somehow found the strength to endure.

“We’ll make sure they thrive.” I placed my hand over my husband’s heart, making it a solemn vow…

LOTS MORE prizes are to come,

including a KINDLE GRAND PRIZE.

Join the party now and comment for your chance to win!

***

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

Pre-order on Amazon

Can Christmas in July be saved at the Dixon house?

With holiday carols, glittering ornaments and lots of cheer, Marsha and Joe Dixon welcome their new granddaughter to one of their favorite traditions. Marsha’s excited to share memories of her and Joe’s heartwarming love story, to help Camille feel even more a part of the sprawling foster family her grandparents have nurtured for decades.

But Joe’s struggle to recover from his recent heart attack and bypass surgery threatens their fun, and more than just Christmas in July is at stake. If he doesn’t regain his strength and ability to provide financially and emotionally for his family, the Dixon group home might have to close.
With loved ones rallying around and their treasured holiday tradition working its magic, Marsha’s convinced she can talk Joe into embracing the physical therapy he needs.

Will her and the Dixon clan’s Christmas-in-July wish come true?

Order Christmas on Bellevue Lane today!

$5 Amazon Gift Card GIVEAWAY in CHRISTMAS ON BELLEVUE LANE’S Holiday Release Party!

Talk COMMUNITY with us on our month-long  Holiday Release Celebration FACEBOOK Party to be in the running for a $5 Amazon Gift Card!

We’re having  blast sharing what makes each of us love the communities and families of our dreams–and why I’ve created Marsha and Joe Dixon’s world to be exactly what it is in Christmas on Bellevue Lane and the rest of the Echoes of the Heart series!

Jump over the the Facebook Holiday Celebration Page (you must be a guest of the event and comment in THIS post to be in the running to win the $5 Amazon Gift Card giveaway), and share your community/family stories!

Here’s another  sneak peak from

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

showing the BEST of the home Marsha and Joe have created

in their group foster home!

…Oliver and Travis and Dru were standing behind Marsha.

They’d crowded the doorway of the closet like a human wall of tough love, clearly determined to help with Joe. She didn’t know whether to thank her kids, or to look for a way to tunnel out of there with husband before what looked to be an impromptu intervention got out of hand. Meanwhile Joe’s back was turned to them, and he evidently intended to keep it that way.

His strong presence filled the closet. So, how could his health still be so precarious? How could her husband not be doing whatever he had to, to fight his way back to full strength?

When he finally did turn, she saw that he was holding a roll of bright red wrapping paper. He’d set the shopping bag down at his feet. His gaze tracked past her to the kids.

“Your mother and I need a few minutes alone,” he told them.

“You and Mom need help,” Oliver responded. “You have for a while now.”

“And we’ve all tried to pitch in,” Dru hurried to add. “We tried not to let it seem like we didn’t think you two can still do everything on your own.”
“But you can’t,” Travis insisted.

“And we’re done pretending otherwise,” Dru finished for him.

“Selena and I came home a little early”—Oliver crossed his arms over his chest—“to help Christmas in July come off without a hitch.”

“We’re all going to be hanging closer to home for a while.” Travis matched his brother’s determined stance. “At least until your recovery is in a better place, Dad.”

“Because we care about you both.” Dru touched Marsha’s arm near her elbow. “We plan to be here for your meeting with family services next week, too.”

“Whether we want you there or not?” Joe asked.

He still hadn’t looked Marsha’s way. She couldn’t read his expression.

“I want the older kids there,” she heard herself say, not realizing until her knees nearly buckled with relief just how much she’d needed them to be.

Her husband ran a hand over his eyes. “Okay.”

“It could make all the difference in the world,” she reasoned, not liking his longsuffering tone, as if he were agreeing to keep the peace but didn’t mean what he was saying. “It’ll show the county that we’ll have as much support as we need to get through your recovery.”

“Or”—Joe finally turned toward her, his hand clenching around the roll of Christmas wrap—“it’ll prove to them that you and I aren’t capable of taking care of things in our home without help.”

“We can’t right now,” she reminded him. “That’s the point. I’d have had to cancel tonight’s celebration after you left, if the older kids hadn’t been here to pick up the slack.”

“Family stands with family, Dad.” Travis tucked Dru against his side. He and Oliver exchanged a nod.

“Those are our brothers and sisters downstairs,” Oliver added. “This is our home, too. You and Mom made sure we’ve known that from the start.”

“Do you really think,” Dru asked, “you can talk us out of believing it now?”

“No,” Marsha replied without hesitation. “You’re right. This is always going to be your family.”

She confronted her husband.

“The kids get what they need, Joe. And our kids need us to change how we’ve been dealing with—”

“My recovery?” he asked.

“That’s all we want, Dad,” Oliver told him. “We want you to get better.”

“Whatever you need,” Travis agreed, “we’re here to help you get it…”

LOTS MORE Giveaways

Coming Up!

Including a KINDLE GRAND PRIZE.

Join the party now and comment for your chance to win!

***

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

Pre-order on Amazon

Can Christmas in July be saved at the Dixon house?

With holiday carols, glittering ornaments and lots of cheer, Marsha and Joe Dixon welcome their new granddaughter to one of their favorite traditions. Marsha’s excited to share memories of her and Joe’s heartwarming love story, to help Camille feel even more a part of the sprawling foster family her grandparents have nurtured for decades.

But Joe’s struggle to recover from his recent heart attack and bypass surgery threatens their fun, and more than just Christmas in July is at stake. If he doesn’t regain his strength and ability to provide financially and emotionally for his family, the Dixon group home might have to close.
With loved ones rallying around and their treasured holiday tradition working its magic, Marsha’s convinced she can talk Joe into embracing the physical therapy he needs.

Will her and the Dixon clan’s Christmas-in-July wish come true?

Order Christmas on Bellevue Lane today!

WIN A BEAUTIFUL Hummingbird Ornament like Marsha and Joe Dixons’!

To celebrate Christmas on Bellevue Lane’s release, and to kick of our month-long November Holiday Celebration over on our Facebook Party Page…

We’re giving away this beautiful Laser-Cut Hummingbird Ornament, similar to the treasured memory Marsha and Joe Dixon hang on their tree every year (and during Christmas in July, where our latest holiday novella is set)!

Here’s a sneak peak at how much Marsha’s hummingbird ornament

means to her and her family in

Christmas on Bellevue Lane:

“What’s this one, Grammy?” Camille picked up a large crush of aging tissue paper. She peeled back the brittle, glitter-flecked layers, slowly revealing the treasure within. “It’s so pretty.”

Marsha smiled at her granddaughter’s awed expression, tearing up a little at the memories.

I want to give you beautiful things like this every day of our lives, Joe had said when he’d given it to her.

“What is it?” Camille studied the fragile creation more closely.

“It’s a hummingbird.” Marsha brushed her fingers across the tin ornament’s gilded surface.

Its colors had faded over the years. But it was just as beautiful as the first day she’d held it….

LOTS MORE prizes are to come,

including a KINDLE GRAND PRIZE.

Join the party now and comment for your chance to win!

***

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

Pre-order on Amazon

Can Christmas in July be saved at the Dixon house?

With holiday carols, glittering ornaments and lots of cheer, Marsha and Joe Dixon welcome their new granddaughter to one of their favorite traditions. Marsha’s excited to share memories of her and Joe’s heartwarming love story, to help Camille feel even more a part of the sprawling foster family her grandparents have nurtured for decades.

But Joe’s struggle to recover from his recent heart attack and bypass surgery threatens their fun, and more than just Christmas in July is at stake. If he doesn’t regain his strength and ability to provide financially and emotionally for his family, the Dixon group home might have to close.
With loved ones rallying around and their treasured holiday tradition working its magic, Marsha’s convinced she can talk Joe into embracing the physical therapy he needs.

Will her and the Dixon clan’s Christmas-in-July wish come true?

Order Christmas on Bellevue Lane today!

READER ALERT: Christmas on Bellevue Lane SNEAK PEEK 3!

MORE  Christmas on Bellevue Lane SNEAK PEEK… The last before our November 2nd Release ;o)

See CHAPTER THREE Below… And GRAB YOUR COPY on Amazon for only $.99 Cents

Marsha Dixon’s just told her granddaughter how Marsha and Joe first met, and now we see how much they still live each other in the present–even though they have some tough challenges ahead of them.

Early 5 STAR reviews are already up on GoodReads

for this fun, family-filled Holiday novella.

Join the Christmas on Bellevue Lane FACEBOOK RELEASE PARTY for fun contests,

discounts and more opportunities to WIN!

Including a Kindle and a vintage, heirloom quilt ;o)

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

Pre-order on Amazon

Chapter Three

“And that’s why Dad’s always calls you Bird,” Dru said after Marsha finished her story, “when the two of you are necking and don’t think anyone’s watching.”

She winked toward Camille, who was still sitting on the other side of the love seat.

“Your grandparents are shamelessly in love, kiddo. But you’ll get used to it.”

“We’re not the only ones.” Marsha took in her twenty-two-year-old daughter’s pregnancy glow. “A day doesn’t go by that your dad and I don’t hear from someone who’s seen you and Brad kissing at the Whip when you think no one’s watching. Like . . . this morning, in fact.”

“Who ratted us out?” Dru demanded good-naturedly. “We were prepping to open. None of the rest of the crew was there yet.”

Dru and her fiancé, Brad Douglas, owned and ran his late grandmother’s hugely popular hamburger joint, the Dream Whip. Vivian Douglas’s will had left the business and the Douglas house to the couple.

Dru had begun cutting back her hours recently , morning sickness not always conducive to being up to her elbows in preparing and serving fast food and milk shakes. But she loved the place. Everyone in Chandlerville did—almost as much as they loved Dru and Brad.

“None of the crew would have called,” Marsha teased, waiting for her daughter’s memory to click.

Dru narrowed her eyes.

“Leigh Hastings . . .” She reached around Marsha and tugged at one of Camille’s hot-pink tennis shoes, the ones with Hello Kitty’s face embroidered on them. “The next time I take you to Dan’s for a cupcake, we’re gonna make Leigh pay for tattling.”

Camille nodded enthusiastically, giggling at her aunt’s hollow threat. She and Dru and the rest of the Dixons were addicted to Dan’s Doughnuts and the amazing baked things produced daily by Leigh and Dan Hastings’s staff.

“I forgot Leigh dropped off our pastry order this morning.” Dru melted into the cushions behind her, propped her feet onto the ottoman, and sighed. She closed her eyes and patted her softly rounded belly. “Sometimes I swear this little creature is siphoning away my ability to remember anything.”

“You look tired,” Marsha told her, while Camille admired the hummingbird ornament. “Why don’t you take a nap before everyone gets here?”

Dru shook her head and yawned.

Her eyes fluttered open. “And miss the chance to hang with my flower girl?”

She and Camille had been best buds from the moment Dru asked her to be in Dru’s upcoming wedding in October—which she and Brad had planned to coincide with Marsha and Joe’s thirty-fifth anniversary.

Another loud crash and curse from the other side of the house left Marsha and Dru sharing a worried glance.

Joe’s irritability had gotten progressively worse since his heart attack—partially a side effect of the medication he was taking. But more and more it was due to his frustration over the post-surgical physical limitations he continued to struggle with.

Anxiety skipped about in Marsha’s chest at the memory of waiting for hours during her husband’s bypass operation. The doctors had had to stop Joe’s heart. She’d prayed silently, nonstop, that the surgeon would come out and tell her that the man she’d built her world around would be okay.

When Joe had made it through the procedure as well as could be expected, Marsha had thought they were in the clear. Until his continued stubborn insistence since coming home that he didn’t need the outpatient cardiovascular rehabilitation his doctors had prescribed.

Her legs shook as she got to her feet now, determined as ever to hide from the rest of the family as much as she could of husband’s mood swings, fading appetite, inability to sleep, and lack of energy. She caught Camille watching her worriedly.

She was a bright child, hypersensitive to the emotions of the adults around her.

Marsha smoothed back her granddaughter’s soft bangs. “Why don’t you keep looking through the decorations while I go check on Grandpa.”

Dru followed Marsha to the door, stopping her with a touch on her arm.

“Let Brad deal with Dad and the tree,” Dru said.

Marsha blinked. “Your dad and I are fine, honey. I’ll get him settled down. Besides, you said Brad wouldn’t be able to get off work until two.”

“He’s on his way now.” Dru held up her smart phone. “I texted him a while you were telling Camille about your and Joe’s meet-cute.”

“You did what?”

“Travis, too,” Dru said, referring to one of her older foster brothers who still lived in Chandlerville. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I didn’t have a choice. You and Dad aren’t fine.”

Marsha swallowed, trying and failing to think of a way to spin Joe’s behavior into looking or sounding or being less troubling than it was.

Dru glanced at her niece and lowered her voice. “There’s obviously no settling him down at this point. Even Camille can see that. You look as run down as he does, from trying to pick up the slack while he can’t do as much around here. And you’re both determined to make Christmas in July happen the same as always—with the two of you doing all the work. Let us older kids pitch in this year.”

“That’s the last thing your father needs right now,” Marsha said in a stage whisper, grateful for the offer of support but dreading the inevitable pushback from Joe. “He’s already upset enough.”

“Then let him be upset,” Dru countered. “You two can’t keep this up, whatever this is that you’re trying to pretend isn’t happening. And family stands with family, right? That’s what you and Joe taught us.”

“Of course. But—”

“Well, Brad and Travis and I are going to all be here soon. Let’s finally talk about this as a family—whatever Dad’s going through. He needs to take his recovery seriously. Before not dealing with it lands him back in the hospital—and you right there with him, from exhaustion.”

“I . . .” Marsha stepped away from her daughter and the prospect of a confrontation. “Please don’t get between your father and me today. Just watch Camille while I go check on him.”

Another crash sent her hustling toward the storage room and her husband’s escalating meltdown.

Joe was leaning over, his arms braced on his thighs, breathing heavily.

He was staring belligerently at the mess of Rubbermaid bins, corrugated boxes, sporting equipment, and other flotsam that seemed to have flung itself at him. He’d tried to disengage the monstrous tree box that had been pinned next to the wall. It looked as if he’d attempted to pry it free without shifting anything else out of the way.

“Are you okay?” Marsha stumbled, rushing forward in a panic. “Is it your heart?”

Joe straightened as she reached him. He looked puzzled by her question, and more annoyed than in pain. Relief flooded her—a split second before his handsome features rumpled into a scowl.

He kicked the nearest bin.

“What are we doing with all this crap?” he snapped at the mess he’d made, his glare accusing Marsha, as if she were responsible for the circumstances that were agitating him to distraction. “I can’t move in this house without stumbling over people and things and God knows what else. I swear, sometimes I want to . . .”

“What?” Marsha snapped back.

The emotional chasm growing between them was starting to feel like an open wound that refused to heal.

She inhaled air that felt so sharp, it might have been freezing—even though it was close to eighty degrees in the stuffy storage room.

That morning she and Joe had promised each other they’d stop doing this—this bickering thing that had been brewing between them since he’d come home from the surgical rehab center. Sure, they had difficult things to deal with and tough decisions to make. But tearing into each other was taking tiny bites out of the love they’d always relied on. Fighting instead of dealing with their problems was making everything that was already hard enough feel even more overwhelming.

She stared with stinging eyes at the loving, outgoing family man she knew adored the day-to-day chaos of raising as many foster kids as they had.

She and Joe were used to having next to no time alone, until they collapsed into bed at the end of each day. And even then their newest placement, eighteen-month-old Teddy, was aces at picking just the right moment to demand attention—or no one else in the house would sleep through the night. But her marriage thrived on chaos, as well as the unconditional love they received back from the foster kids they were raising.

Except now a harried, exasperated stranger stared back at her. And it suddenly felt, with Dru’s concern still ringing in Marsha’s ears, as if the runaway train of Joe’s derailed recovery was threatening everything they’d worked so hard to build.

“You love Christmas in July,” she told him.

She pushed aside an oversize container labeled COATS. It was loaded with jackets and winter gear in a Noah’s arc of sizes.

“You love a house full of messy kids and their even messier stuff.” She laid her hand over Joe’s heart, the strumming of its beat calming her, feeding her courage. “You love me.”

Staring at her as if he were just then seeing her clearly, he tugged her against his chest.

“I do love you, Bird.” He kissed her temple. “More than I knew I could love anything.”

She clung to him and the words, so familiar and dear and ringing with honesty. He’d made the same admission, just as haltingly, the night he’d asked her to marry him. He’d behaved badly then, too. And when he proposed, he hadn’t sounded as if he expected her to believe him, any more than he seemed to now.

“But . . .” Marsha braced herself.

They’d circled the same argument every night of the last week, when Joe had seemed even more tired and irritable than the week before. He was hurting too badly to sleep well. And she’d been increasingly troubled by his refusal to deal with the root of the problem.

“But . . .” This was the man she loved. She’d be damned if she was going let him—them—slip away without a fight. “You don’t love me and our life and the things we’re doing for our kids enough to commit to what you have to, to keep all of this going?”

Joe—handsome and towering over her and stronger than should be possible for a man who was so sick still—set her away from him, gently but firmly.

The sudden physical distance was a biting slap of reality.

“That’s not fair,” he accused.

“Your kids are worried about you, no matter how hard you and I have tried to keep things normal around here. How fair is that to them? Even Camille can tell something’s up. And Dru and Brad and Travis . . .”

She stopped short of filling him in on the rest.

“Since when,” she asked, “do we need life to be fair in order for us to be okay?”

She relived the moment long ago when Joe had said the same thing to her. She watched his gaze flicker with recognition. Then his stare took on an even steelier edge, and she knew Dru was right.

They couldn’t keep this up.

Marsha had to get through to her husband. Now.

“We need to talk about your recovery options,” she insisted.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Joe ran a hand through his thick crop of salt-and-pepper hair. “I just need to get my feet back under me.”

“Is that what you call coming home early from work two or three days a week? And what about when you’re here, and you’re hurting so badly, you’re so tired, that everyday things you used to love doing are now burdens?”

“What are you saying?” He planted his hands on his hips.

Not that he didn’t already know. He just didn’t want to talk about it. Any of it. If she kept giving him a pass, worried about how he’d react if she pushed him, he’d never want to talk about it.

She surveyed the mess he’d made, the containers strewn all over. She began to restack them, working her way toward the tree box, trying to get to the ancient thing that the older kids compared to the sad castoff in the Charlie Brown Christmas movie.

“Since when”—she ignored her husband’s clenched fists and escalating temper—“are you the kind of man who’d rather stay sick, trying to convince yourself you’re okay, instead of accepting the help you need to actually be okay?”

Her husband grabbed the Halloween decorations out of her hands and tossed the bin aside. It went flying across the room and into the wall. She jumped when containers skidded in every direction like bowling pins. One of them spilled out the dinged and dented pots and pans the family used for camping.

They were both panting, Marsha realized. Joe from exertion. Her from shock at how out of control he was becoming.

“Since I’m the man”—his gaze lifted from the mess he’d made—“who’s had my life taken away from me.”

He was keeping his voice down, aware enough of his surroundings to shield the worst of what he was saying from the little girl only two rooms away.

“Since I wake up every morning,” he continued, “and wonder how I’ll have the energy to put on my shoes. Let alone go to work or put up with more pointless physical therapy that doesn’t change a damn thing.”

“It’s not pointless.”

“Really? I was at that rehab center for weeks. Where did that get me? I’ve been through two at-home therapy aides, and I still can’t do my part putting up a pitiful Christmas tree. And later,” he growled, “I’ll be making a mess of our celebration, the way I have this room.”

“Joe, please . . .”

She’d heard the tears in his voice while he’d vented his anger and frustration. She could tell his big heart breaking. And worse, he sounded so close to giving up.

Which she wasn’t about to let happen.

“I know the last two therapists didn’t work out,” she conceded. “But this time—”

“This time what?” He shook his head. “When is the right time for us to accept that the problem isn’t the physical therapy aides—it’s me? And that I can’t do this. I just can’t!”

He half tripped over the coat box on his way out, brushing into Brad at the door to the kitchen.

“Joe,” Marsha called, stopping herself from chasing after her husband. “We need to talk this through before the kids get home.”

Brad, wearing jeans and one of his Chandlerville Sherriff’s Department T-shirts, watched Joe stalk through the kitchen and out the door to the garage.

Marsha’s heart sank as the minivan’s engine fired to life. How could Joe be taking off like this? It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of their year. He’d be back soon. Right?

She still hadn’t moved when she heard him backing down the driveway.

Brad was restacking the storage containers.

“If I had one wish for this year’s Christmas in July . . .” she started to say.

Her soon-to-be son-in-law gave her a side hug. “You’re doing everything you can to help him.”

“We all are.” Marsha hugged back, before Brad headed to unearth the tree box. “Not that my husband wants any help.”

Brad drug out the dilapidated cardboard carton. He tipped it up, leaning on its shortest end, and watched her with an understanding expression.

Marsha wiped at the corners of her eyes.

“I know it’s none of my business,” he said. “But—”

“It’s as much your business as anyone else’s in this family.”

He nodded his appreciation and kissed her cheek sweetly—the way he had when he and Dru announced their engagement.

“But?” she asked the fine young man who was giving her her second grandchild.

“Joe seems really lost right now, Marsha.”

“Mom,” she reminded him. “And Dad.”

She and Joe had been insistent, as soon as Brad proposed to their Dru, that the young man think of them as his parents, too.

“Mom,” Brad corrected. “To me, Dad seems more scared than angry. Too scared to talk about why.”

“He’s so sick of being sick, he can’t see straight.” It felt a little like she was betraying her husband’s confidence, but she was at her wits’ end. “He thinks that if he can’t magically regain his strength by force of will alone, somehow that makes him a failure.”

”He’ll get a handle on it,” Brad reassured her.

She shook her head. She’d been just as guilty as Joe of not seeing their situation for what it really was.

“At least,” Brad amended, some of his well-intentioned optimism fading, “that’s what we’re all hoping for.”

“He needs to talk about what he’s feeling,” she finally admitted, “and why he’s not fighting harder to make his physical therapy work. But he won’t. He just keeps letting things worry him until he explodes. There’s no telling what he’ll do when he gets back later, and Travis and Dru confront him the way it sounds like they’re planning to.”

Brad winced. “You got wind of that?”

“Your fiancé has a lot of amazing qualities. But subtlety isn’t one of them.” Marsha gave a short laugh and nodded. “And even though I’m relieved to have some backup finally, it’s going to cause trouble. My husband’s already dealing with so much. . . .”

Brad waited her out, no doubt letting her decide how much to tell him next.

“It’s more than just Joe missing so much work,” she admitted, “or his frustration with what he can’t get done around here these days.”

Brad nodded, as if he had all day to listen.

There was no guarantee she’d have a chance to speak with Dru again privately, not once the younger kids got home and Travis arrived, too, and Joe got back. And Marsha needed to confide in someone before the Christmas-in-July mayhem commenced in full.

“A family services caseworker is doing a site visit next week,” she told Brad. “She’s been monitoring Joe’s progress—and how well our home is adjusting to his illness. Her report will help the county decide if . . .”

“If there need to be some official changes with some of the kids’ placements?” Brad offered, as if he and Dru had already suspected that might be the case. “Because a foster home the size of yours might be too much for you and Joe to handle now?”

Marsha nodded.

She blinked back a fresh surge of panic.

“We’re not losing a single one of our kids,” she insisted. “No matter what it takes to convince my husband to work through his recovery in a more successful way.”

“Damn straight,” Brad agreed with a wink of encouragement, as if to say, Piece of cake—one of his and Dru’s pet sayings.

Marsha winked back, embracing the reality of their kids being there to help.

“I don’t want to worry the younger ones,” she insisted. “Not today. Not until after we’ve met with family services, and we know whether or not there’s anything to worry about at all.”

“Then let’s get this party started,” Brad said, taking all she’d revealed in stride the way he had so much else. “We need a tree assembled, pronto.”

“Mom!” Dru called cheerfully from the living room.

She was using her forced cheerful voice. Which told Marsha her daughter, who was still distracting Camille, had heard enough of the commotion Marsha  and Joe had made to suspect that something was seriously wrong.

“Camille wants to hear,” Dru continued, “how you and Dad had your first big fight in a dive bar on Christmas Eve. And then about the amazing way he made it up to you!”

Brad hefted the tree box onto his shoulder and walked ahead of Marsha toward the family room, grinning ear to ear. “I’ve been dying to hear that story first hand myself. . . .”

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“And that’s why Dad’s always calls you Bird,” Dru said after Marsha finished her story, “when the two of you are necking and don’t think anyone’s watching.”
She winked toward Camille, who was still sitting on the other side of the love seat.
“Your grandparents are shamelessly in love, kiddo. But you’ll get used to it.”
“We’re not the only ones.” Marsha took in her twenty-two-year-old daughter’s pregnancy glow. “A day doesn’t go by that your dad and I don’t hear from someone who’s seen you and Brad kissing at the Whip when you think no one’s watching. Like . . . this morning, in fact.”
“Who ratted us out?” Dru demanded good-naturedly. “We were prepping to open. None of the rest of the crew was there yet.”
Dru and her fiancé, Brad Douglas, owned and ran his late grandmother’s hugely popular hamburger joint, the Dream Whip. Vivian Douglas’s will had left the business and the Douglas house to the couple.
Dru had begun cutting back her hours recently , morning sickness not always conducive to being up to her elbows in preparing and serving fast food and milk shakes. But she loved the place. Everyone in Chandlerville did—almost as much as they loved Dru and Brad.
“None of the crew would have called,” Marsha teased, waiting for her daughter’s memory to click.
Dru narrowed her eyes.
“Leigh Hastings . . .” She reached around Marsha and tugged at one of Camille’s hot-pink tennis shoes, the ones with Hello Kitty’s face embroidered on them. “The next time I take you to Dan’s for a cupcake, we’re gonna make Leigh pay for tattling.”
Camille nodded enthusiastically, giggling at her aunt’s hollow threat. She and Dru and the rest of the Dixons were addicted to Dan’s Doughnuts and the amazing baked things produced daily by Leigh and Dan Hastings’s staff.
“I forgot Leigh dropped off our pastry order this morning.” Dru melted into the cushions behind her, propped her feet onto the ottoman, and sighed. She closed her eyes and patted her softly rounded belly. “Sometimes I swear this little creature is siphoning away my ability to remember anything.”
“You look tired,” Marsha told her, while Camille admired the hummingbird ornament. “Why don’t you take a nap before everyone gets here?”
Dru shook her head and yawned.
Her eyes fluttered open. “And miss the chance to hang with my flower girl?”
She and Camille had been best buds from the moment Dru asked her to be in Dru’s upcoming wedding in October—which she and Brad had planned to coincide with Marsha and Joe’s thirty-fifth anniversary.
Another loud crash and curse from the other side of the house left Marsha and Dru sharing a worried glance.
Joe’s irritability had gotten progressively worse since his heart attack—partially a side effect of the medication he was taking. But more and more it was due to his frustration over the post-surgical physical limitations he continued to struggle with.
Anxiety skipped about in Marsha’s chest at the memory of waiting for hours during her husband’s bypass operation. The doctors had had to stop Joe’s heart. She’d prayed silently, nonstop, that the surgeon would come out and tell her that the man she’d built her world around would be okay.
When Joe had made it through the procedure as well as could be expected, Marsha had thought they were in the clear. Until his continued stubborn insistence since coming home that he didn’t need the outpatient cardiovascular rehabilitation his doctors had prescribed.
Her legs shook as she got to her feet now, determined as ever to hide from the rest of the family as much as she could of husband’s mood swings, fading appetite, inability to sleep, and lack of energy. She caught Camille watching her worriedly.
She was a bright child, hypersensitive to the emotions of the adults around her.
Marsha smoothed back her granddaughter’s soft bangs. “Why don’t you keep looking through the decorations while I go check on Grandpa.”
Dru followed Marsha to the door, stopping her with a touch on her arm.
“Let Brad deal with Dad and the tree,” Dru said.
Marsha blinked. “Your dad and I are fine, honey. I’ll get him settled down. Besides, you said Brad wouldn’t be able to get off work until two.”
“He’s on his way now.” Dru held up her smart phone. “I texted him a while you were telling Camille about your and Joe’s meet-cute.”
“You did what?”
“Travis, too,” Dru said, referring to one of her older foster brothers who still lived in Chandlerville. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I didn’t have a choice. You and Dad aren’t fine.”
Marsha swallowed, trying and failing to think of a way to spin Joe’s behavior into looking or sounding or being less troubling than it was.
Dru glanced at her niece and lowered her voice. “There’s obviously no settling him down at this point. Even Camille can see that. You look as run down as he does, from trying to pick up the slack while he can’t do as much around here. And you’re both determined to make Christmas in July happen the same as always—with the two of you doing all the work. Let us older kids pitch in this year.”
“That’s the last thing your father needs right now,” Marsha said in a stage whisper, grateful for the offer of support but dreading the inevitable pushback from Joe. “He’s already upset enough.”
“Then let him be upset,” Dru countered. “You two can’t keep this up, whatever this is that you’re trying to pretend isn’t happening. And family stands with family, right? That’s what you and Joe taught us.”
“Of course. But—”
“Well, Brad and Travis and I are going to all be here soon. Let’s finally talk about this as a family—whatever Dad’s going through. He needs to take his recovery seriously. Before not dealing with it lands him back in the hospital—and you right there with him, from exhaustion.”
“I . . .” Marsha stepped away from her daughter and the prospect of a confrontation. “Please don’t get between your father and me today. Just watch Camille while I go check on him.”
Another crash sent her hustling toward the storage room and her husband’s escalating meltdown.
Joe was leaning over, his arms braced on his thighs, breathing heavily.
He was staring belligerently at the mess of Rubbermaid bins, corrugated boxes, sporting equipment, and other flotsam that seemed to have flung itself at him. He’d tried to disengage the monstrous tree box that had been pinned next to the wall. It looked as if he’d attempted to pry it free without shifting anything else out of the way.
“Are you okay?” Marsha stumbled, rushing forward in a panic. “Is it your heart?”
Joe straightened as she reached him. He looked puzzled by her question, and more annoyed than in pain. Relief flooded her—a split second before his handsome features rumpled into a scowl.
He kicked the nearest bin.
“What are we doing with all this crap?” he snapped at the mess he’d made, his glare accusing Marsha, as if she were responsible for the circumstances that were agitating him to distraction. “I can’t move in this house without stumbling over people and things and God knows what else. I swear, sometimes I want to . . .”
“What?” Marsha snapped back.
The emotional chasm growing between them was starting to feel like an open wound that refused to heal.
She inhaled air that felt so sharp, it might have been freezing—even though it was close to eighty degrees in the stuffy storage room.
That morning she and Joe had promised each other they’d stop doing this—this bickering thing that had been brewing between them since he’d come home from the surgical rehab center. Sure, they had difficult things to deal with and tough decisions to make. But tearing into each other was taking tiny bites out of the love they’d always relied on. Fighting instead of dealing with their problems was making everything that was already hard enough feel even more overwhelming.
She stared with stinging eyes at the loving, outgoing family man she knew adored the day-to-day chaos of raising as many foster kids as they had.
She and Joe were used to having next to no time alone, until they collapsed into bed at the end of each day. And even then their newest placement, eighteen-month-old Teddy, was aces at picking just the right moment to demand attention—or no one else in the house would sleep through the night. But her marriage thrived on chaos, as well as the unconditional love they received back from the foster kids they were raising.
Except now a harried, exasperated stranger stared back at her. And it suddenly felt, with Dru’s concern still ringing in Marsha’s ears, as if the runaway train of Joe’s derailed recovery was threatening everything they’d worked so hard to build.
“You love Christmas in July,” she told him.
She pushed aside an oversize container labeled COATS. It was loaded with jackets and winter gear in a Noah’s arc of sizes.
“You love a house full of messy kids and their even messier stuff.” She laid her hand over Joe’s heart, the strumming of its beat calming her, feeding her courage. “You love me.”
Staring at her as if he were just then seeing her clearly, he tugged her against his chest.
“I do love you, Bird.” He kissed her temple. “More than I knew I could love anything.”
She clung to him and the words, so familiar and dear and ringing with honesty. He’d made the same admission, just as haltingly, the night he’d asked her to marry him. He’d behaved badly then, too. And when he proposed, he hadn’t sounded as if he expected her to believe him, any more than he seemed to now.
“But . . .” Marsha braced herself.
They’d circled the same argument every night of the last week, when Joe had seemed even more tired and irritable than the week before. He was hurting too badly to sleep well. And she’d been increasingly troubled by his refusal to deal with the root of the problem.
“But . . .” This was the man she loved. She’d be damned if she was going let him—them—slip away without a fight. “You don’t love me and our life and the things we’re doing for our kids enough to commit to what you have to, to keep all of this going?”
Joe—handsome and towering over her and stronger than should be possible for a man who was so sick still—set her away from him, gently but firmly.
The sudden physical distance was a biting slap of reality.
“That’s not fair,” he accused.
“Your kids are worried about you, no matter how hard you and I have tried to keep things normal around here. How fair is that to them? Even Camille can tell something’s up. And Dru and Brad and Travis . . .”
She stopped short of filling him in on the rest.
“Since when,” she asked, “do we need life to be fair in order for us to be okay?”
She relived the moment long ago when Joe had said the same thing to her. She watched his gaze flicker with recognition. Then his stare took on an even steelier edge, and she knew Dru was right.
They couldn’t keep this up.
Marsha had to get through to her husband. Now.
“We need to talk about your recovery options,” she insisted.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Joe ran a hand through his thick crop of salt-and-pepper hair. “I just need to get my feet back under me.”
“Is that what you call coming home early from work two or three days a week? And what about when you’re here, and you’re hurting so badly, you’re so tired, that everyday things you used to love doing are now burdens?”
“What are you saying?” He planted his hands on his hips.
Not that he didn’t already know. He just didn’t want to talk about it. Any of it. If she kept giving him a pass, worried about how he’d react if she pushed him, he’d never want to talk about it.
She surveyed the mess he’d made, the containers strewn all over. She began to restack them, working her way toward the tree box, trying to get to the ancient thing that the older kids compared to the sad castoff in the Charlie Brown Christmas movie.
“Since when”—she ignored her husband’s clenched fists and escalating temper—“are you the kind of man who’d rather stay sick, trying to convince yourself you’re okay, instead of accepting the help you need to actually be okay?”
Her husband grabbed the Halloween decorations out of her hands and tossed the bin aside. It went flying across the room and into the wall. She jumped when containers skidded in every direction like bowling pins. One of them spilled out the dinged and dented pots and pans the family used for camping.
They were both panting, Marsha realized. Joe from exertion. Her from shock at how out of control he was becoming.
“Since I’m the man”—his gaze lifted from the mess he’d made—“who’s had my life taken away from me.”
He was keeping his voice down, aware enough of his surroundings to shield the worst of what he was saying from the little girl only two rooms away.
“Since I wake up every morning,” he continued, “and wonder how I’ll have the energy to put on my shoes. Let alone go to work or put up with more pointless physical therapy that doesn’t change a damn thing.”
“It’s not pointless.”
“Really? I was at that rehab center for weeks. Where did that get me? I’ve been through two at-home therapy aides, and I still can’t do my part putting up a pitiful Christmas tree. And later,” he growled, “I’ll be making a mess of our celebration, the way I have this room.”
“Joe, please . . .”
She’d heard the tears in his voice while he’d vented his anger and frustration. She could tell his big heart breaking. And worse, he sounded so close to giving up.
Which she wasn’t about to let happen.
“I know the last two therapists didn’t work out,” she conceded. “But this time—”
“This time what?” He shook his head. “When is the right time for us to accept that the problem isn’t the physical therapy aides—it’s me? And that I can’t do this. I just can’t!”
He half tripped over the coat box on his way out, brushing into Brad at the door to the kitchen.
“Joe,” Marsha called, stopping herself from chasing after her husband. “We need to talk this through before the kids get home.”
Brad, wearing jeans and one of his Chandlerville Sherriff’s Department T-shirts, watched Joe stalk through the kitchen and out the door to the garage.
Marsha’s heart sank as the minivan’s engine fired to life. How could Joe be taking off like this? It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of their year. He’d be back soon. Right?
She still hadn’t moved when she heard him backing down the driveway.
Brad was restacking the storage containers.
“If I had one wish for this year’s Christmas in July . . .” she started to say.
Her soon-to-be son-in-law gave her a side hug. “You’re doing everything you can to help him.”
“We all are.” Marsha hugged back, before Brad headed to unearth the tree box. “Not that my husband wants any help.”
Brad drug out the dilapidated cardboard carton. He tipped it up, leaning on its shortest end, and watched her with an understanding expression.
Marsha wiped at the corners of her eyes.
“I know it’s none of my business,” he said. “But—”
“It’s as much your business as anyone else’s in this family.”
He nodded his appreciation and kissed her cheek sweetly—the way he had when he and Dru announced their engagement.
“But?” she asked the fine young man who was giving her her second grandchild.
“Joe seems really lost right now, Marsha.”
“Mom,” she reminded him. “And Dad.”
She and Joe had been insistent, as soon as Brad proposed to their Dru, that the young man think of them as his parents, too.
“Mom,” Brad corrected. “To me, Dad seems more scared than angry. Too scared to talk about why.”
“He’s so sick of being sick, he can’t see straight.” It felt a little like she was betraying her husband’s confidence, but she was at her wits’ end. “He thinks that if he can’t magically regain his strength by force of will alone, somehow that makes him a failure.”
”He’ll get a handle on it,” Brad reassured her.
She shook her head. She’d been just as guilty as Joe of not seeing their situation for what it really was.
“At least,” Brad amended, some of his well-intentioned optimism fading, “that’s what we’re all hoping for.”
“He needs to talk about what he’s feeling,” she finally admitted, “and why he’s not fighting harder to make his physical therapy work. But he won’t. He just keeps letting things worry him until he explodes. There’s no telling what he’ll do when he gets back later, and Travis and Dru confront him the way it sounds like they’re planning to.”
Brad winced. “You got wind of that?”
“Your fiancé has a lot of amazing qualities. But subtlety isn’t one of them.” Marsha gave a short laugh and nodded. “And even though I’m relieved to have some backup finally, it’s going to cause trouble. My husband’s already dealing with so much. . . .”
Brad waited her out, no doubt letting her decide how much to tell him next.
“It’s more than just Joe missing so much work,” she admitted, “or his frustration with what he can’t get done around here these days.”
Brad nodded, as if he had all day to listen.
There was no guarantee she’d have a chance to speak with Dru again privately, not once the younger kids got home and Travis arrived, too, and Joe got back. And Marsha needed to confide in someone before the Christmas-in-July mayhem commenced in full.
“A family services caseworker is doing a site visit next week,” she told Brad. “She’s been monitoring Joe’s progress—and how well our home is adjusting to his illness. Her report will help the county decide if . . .”
“If there need to be some official changes with some of the kids’ placements?” Brad offered, as if he and Dru had already suspected that might be the case. “Because a foster home the size of yours might be too much for you and Joe to handle now?”
Marsha nodded.
She blinked back a fresh surge of panic.
“We’re not losing a single one of our kids,” she insisted. “No matter what it takes to convince my husband to work through his recovery in a more successful way.”
“Damn straight,” Brad agreed with a wink of encouragement, as if to say, Piece of cake—one of his and Dru’s pet sayings.
Marsha winked back, embracing the reality of their kids being there to help.
“I don’t want to worry the younger ones,” she insisted. “Not today. Not until after we’ve met with family services, and we know whether or not there’s anything to worry about at all.”
“Then let’s get this party started,” Brad said, taking all she’d revealed in stride the way he had so much else. “We need a tree assembled, pronto.”
“Mom!” Dru called cheerfully from the living room.
She was using her forced cheerful voice. Which told Marsha her daughter, who was still distracting Camille, had heard enough of the commotion Marsha  and Joe had made to suspect that something was seriously wrong.
“Camille wants to hear,” Dru continued, “how you and Dad had your first big fight in a dive bar on Christmas Eve. And then about the amazing way he made it up to you!”
Brad hefted the tree box onto his shoulder and walked ahead of Marsha toward the family room, grinning ear to ear. “I’ve been dying to hear that story first hand myself. . . .”

5 STAR REVIEWS are pouring in for Christmas on Bellevue Lane!

Early Christmas on Bellevue Lane readers are loving Marsh and Joe’s story over on GoodReads!

“Magic happens when the Dixon family celebrates Christmas in July…”

“I loved the trip as Marsha takes the reader back to the beginnings of the Dixons’ relationship. Can’t wait until the next book in the series: His Darling Bride.”

“A Lovely, heartwarming story…”

Is Christmas on Bellevue Lane on YOUR “to-read” list?

Some catch up, for readers just tuning in ;0)

Did you know we’re celebrating over on Facebook the entire month of November? And if you join us, you’ll be thrilled with all the fun and giveaways and authors and Holiday novels we’ll be spotlighting?!

Be in the running for the release Kindle giveaway! All you have to do is join our month-long Holiday Release Celebration on Facebook!
Comment in the Facebook Holiday Release Party with your Amazon Pre-Order Confirmation Number, to be in the running for a $25 Amazon Gift Card.
Help us pack the release party! When we reach 250 attending, I’ll give away our first Holiday Celebration prize–a $10 Amazon Gift Card!
More to be posted on the party page soon–including guest authors who’ll be popping in throughout the month and the amazing giveaways and grand prizes party goers will be eligible for!

THANKS AGAIN for all the support and excitement for Marsha and Joe Dixon’s Christmas-in-July love story ;o)

***

Christmas on Bellevue Lane

November 2, 2015

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Can Christmas in July be saved at the Dixon house?

With holiday carols, glittering ornaments and lots of cheer, Marsha and Joe Dixon welcome their new granddaughter to one of their favorite traditions. Marsha’s excited to share memories of her and Joe’s heartwarming love story, to help Camille feel even more a part of the sprawling foster family her grandparents have nurtured for decades.

But Joe’s struggle to recover from his recent heart attack and bypass surgery threatens their fun, and more than just Christmas in July is at stake. If he doesn’t regain his strength and ability to provide financially and emotionally for his family, the Dixon group home might have to close.
With loved ones rallying around and their treasured holiday tradition working its magic, Marsha’s convinced she can talk Joe into embracing the physical therapy he needs.

Will her and the Dixon clan’s Christmas-in-July wish come true?