Read Online Coming Home for Christmas by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online

politely shot down his plans for an early escape. “Hold a reception,” she told him. “Trust me, you’ll regret it if you don’t. It doesn’t take all that much to throw a reception together if you know the right people to ask.” That she knew such people went without saying. “Your mother’s friends will expect it.”
    â€œI’m never going to see any of these people again. Why should it matter to me what they think?”
    She refrained from pointing out the obvious—he would be doing it to honor his mother, and that sort of thing was expected. Instead, she tried to appeal to his practical side.
    â€œCall it tying up loose ends. You’ll feel better about it when you look back.”
    For a relative stranger—despite their common background—Kenzie Bradshaw seemed awfully confident that she knew how he’d react to something when he would have occasion to look back on it someday in the future. He almost called her on it, then decided there was no point.
    Besides, he needed all the help he could get, and for whatever reason, this woman seemed perfectly content to handle all this for him.
    â€œOkay, we’ll have the reception.” Then he tapped the edge of the tattered address book. “Now see what you can do with this.”
    She flipped over to a few more pages in the same worn condition. “Do you want everyone in the address book notified about your mother’s funeral and reception?”
    He shrugged. On his own, he wouldn’t have known who to call and who to leave out. “Might as well.” And then he thought of one restriction. “Just the people who are located in the States.”
    He was not about to postpone the entire funeral service just because someone couldn’t make immediate travel arrangements. This was already getting too drawn out.
    Kenzie nodded. “Understood.”
    Holding on to the tattered address book, Kenzie sat down and made herself comfortable on the sofa. She took out her cell phone.
    â€œYou can use the house phone,” Keith told her. He had no idea who her carrier was or what data plan she had. She was essentially doing him a favor, and he didn’t want it costing her anything on top of that.
    â€œThis is fine,” Kenzie assured him. “Besides, the house phone won’t reach over here.” She pointed to the landline, which was located on the kitchen wall, and smiled as she said, “Your mother didn’t appear to be a supporter of cordless phones.”
    He hadn’t taken any notice of that. Now that he did, Keith laughed shortly. “I guess some things never change,” he commented. The phone in the kitchen looked as if it was the same one that had been there when he still lived at home.
    Just for a glimmer of a moment, she thought she saw nostalgia flash in Keith’s eyes. She wanted to ask him about it, but she instinctively knew where that would lead. Keith wasn’t ready to talk. She could see that. Whether this involved unresolved issues between Keith and his mother or something else, he’d have to approach it slowly, in stages, not all at once like a firestorm. And right now, he had trusted her enough to ask for help.
    That was step one.
    â€œI’d better get started,” Kenzie told him as she opened the address book and turned to the first page, her cell phone ready in her other hand.
    Taking his cue, Keith left her to it.
    Or thought he did.
    The problem was that the house was so quiet, it was almost eerie. There was no competing noise to draw his attention away from the sound of Kenzie’s voice as she made call after call, saying, essentially, the same thing over and over again.
    Even with a room between them—he was in the tiny room that had been used as a study—he could still hear her clearly.
    Kenzie’s voice, he thought, sounded almost melodic despite the fact that it was infused with the proper subdued decorum