“I’ve waited all these years for you. I’m not waiting any longer. All right?”

“All right.” Noelle was overwhelmed by contradictory emotions. Love for Thom—and love for her family. Excitement and nervousness. Happiness and guilt.

“Do you know what I like most about Christmas?” Thom asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Tell me, and then I’ll tell you what I like.”

“Mom has a tradition she started when Suzanne entered high school. On Christmas Eve, she serves fresh Dungeness crab. We all love it. She has them cooked at the market because she can’t bear to do it herself, then Dad brings them home. Mom’s got the butter melted and the bibs ready and we sit around the table and start cracking.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious.”

“It is. Does your family have a Christmas Eve tradition?”

“Bingo.”

“Bingo?”

“Christmas Bingo. We play after the Christmas Eve service at church. The prizes aren’t worth more than five dollars, but Mom’s so good at getting neat stuff. I haven’t been home for Christmas in years, but Mom always makes up for it by mailing me three or four little Bingo gifts.”

“My favorite carol is ‘What Child Is This,’” he said next.

“Mine’s ‘Silent Night.’”

“What was your favorite gift as a kid?”

“Hmm, that’s a toss-up,” she said. “There was a Christmas Barbie I adored. Another year I got a set of classic Disney videos that I watched over and over.”

Thom smiled. “As a little boy, I loved my Matchbox car garage. I got it for Christmas when I was ten. Mom’s kept it all these years. She has Dad drag it out every year and tells me she’s saving it to give to my son one day.”

She sighed, at peace with herself and this man she loved. “I want to have your babies, Thom,” she said in a soft voice.

His eyes left the street to meet hers. The sky had darkened and he looked quickly back at the road. “You make it hard to concentrate on driving.”

“Tell me some of the other things you love about Christmas. It makes me feel good to hear them.”

“It’s your turn,” he said.

“The orange in the bottom of my stocking. Every year there’s one in the toe. It’s supposed to commemorate the Christmases my great-grandparents had—an orange was a pretty special thing back then.”

“I like Christmas cookies. Especially meringue star ones.”

“Mexican tea cakes for me,” she said. “I’ll ask your mother for the recipe for star cookies and bake you a batch every Christmas.”

“That sounds like a very wifely thing to do.”