Rachel smoothed the blanket covering her babies, maternal love plainly written on her face. Her little miracles were fast asleep and wrapped round one another in perfect imitation of their mum and da. The urge to touch them made her fingers itch, but she placed her hands behind her back to help her resist the urge. It had taken both her and Carl nearly an hour to quiet them down and get them into bed. If they woke up now no one would sleep tonight.

With a sigh she abandoned the blissful picture and tiptoed the few feet to the room she shared with Carl. Tonight had been a colossal disaster instigated and carried out by her grown children. How petty they must be to turn Christmas Eve, a night of peace, into a personal battlefield. She shuddered to think she had raised them. If Mac were here…

She closed the door and settled her forehead against its cool surface. That was part of the problem. Mac was gone, Carl was the man in her life and Matt and Amanda refused to accept her choice. She loved Carl and now that he was back, well, they needed to learn to live with it. There was no way she was going to stand for a repeat of tonight.

Wearily Rachel hefted the strappy heels she’d been holding across the room. So much for holiday glamour. She removed her jewelry, cataloging from whom it had been received. Each piece had been a present from one of her children. When would they learn material gifts meant little to her? All she wanted, all she needed from them, was the gift of love. And peace wouldn’t hurt either. Every single one of them had so much to be thankful for that time spent squabbling over Carl was time wasted.

Collapsing onto their bed, Rachel felt something sharp gouge her in the side. It was a box, gaily wrapped in gold and green. A smile spread across her face. Leave it to her hopelessly romantic husband to brighten her night with a surprise.

For once she didn’t care about how pretty the paper looked or how nicely it was packaged, Rachel ripped into the wrapping like a two-year-old in the throes of holiday spirit.

Flinging the box top onto the floor she found a notecard lying atop white tissue paper. She took the card from its nest and put the box aside. Lifting the flap, she read the words he’d written for her.

She felt herself go all warm and runny and tears prick her eyes. Such simple lovely words from a wonderful man. And he’d signed his name. Six months and he still signed all his notes to her. As if any other man could elicit such a response from her.

Sometimes she wished she could develop amnesia and forget the days without him. He was her love, her soulmate – and without him she’d felt lost and alone. Each morning she’d greeted the sun without him and every night she’d warmed her lonely bed. Her family drew their strength from her, but she, in turn, had garnered her strength from Carl. If only they had understood just how much he’d meant to her.

Without him, she had delved into other areas of her life with a vengeance. Mother, friend, business leader and concerned citizen. All roles she had used in a desperate attempt to salve her broken heart.

She had failed miserably.

She’d nearly resigned herself to widowhood when IT happened-- her impossible dream was fulfilled and Carl was home again. That first night in the Keys, after whispered words and tender lovemaking, she had held him to her and thanked God for bringing him to her, for blessing her with yet another miracle.

The days since then had been filled with eager discovery on Carl’s part. Her husband viewed the world with newborn eyes and insisted she accompany him every step of the way. Needless to say, it had lead to some peculiar adventures and new memories that she would treasure forever.

Remembering her package, Rachel tenderly placed the card on the bedside table and returned her attention to its contents. She pushed the paper back to reveal something dark and silky. Pulling it free, Rachel held it in front of her. It was a black negligee with delicate straps and plunges so deep they’d be illegal in public.

Rachel knew this was how her husband saw her. To him she wasn’t the middle-aged society matron everyone depended upon for reassurance and security. Instead, she was a sexy, desirable woman whom he adored beyond all reason.

Suddenly her festive holiday outfit felt restrictive. She tugged at buttons and zippers, letting the garments fall at her feet. With them she shed her many personas until only the woman remained. Once naked, she lifted the gown over her head and let it fall around her with a soft whisper. The silk felt decadent against her skin, forcing her back into herself, down past the layers she slathered on as protection against the world, back to what made her Rachel.

Her body relaxed as strong arms slipped around her waist.

"I’m glad you like your present," Carl said, his breath warm against her temple.

"You always give the best gifts." She turned in his arms. "How’s your headache?"

"Better," he said. "I wish you wouldn’t worry about me so."

She rubbed her cheek against his, goosebumps racing across her body at the touch of his beard. "How can I not? The nightmares were bad enough and now headaches. I worry the doctors might be wrong Carl."

"I know my darling, but trust me when I tell you it was brought on by the tension tonight, not my health. Amanda was rather vicious this evening."

"I know," she groaned. "Everything was going so well until…"

"Thanksgiving. I took you away from them."

Rachel leaned into him, cradling her head in the crook of his neck. "Why does every holiday in this family have to be so difficult?"

Carl hugged him to her before stepping back to look into her eyes. "I think it is time to ban certain members of your brood from our conversation for the remainder of the holiday. Have I told you tonight how delicious you look?"

"Mmmm, I’m not sure," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, "but you can tell me again if you like."

"With pleasure my darling. However, we have work waiting for us downstairs."

"Work?" she laughed. "You’ll play more than work. And before I forget, a letter came for you this morning."

"Did you open it?"

"It didn’t have my name on it." A worried look crossed her face. "Do you think it’s from the clinic?"

"I suppose so. They probably sent a card expressing their gratitude and warm wishes for a Happy New Life. I’ll look at it tomorrow. My family is what’s important tonight."

"Then let’s go Santa baby." She took his hand only to have him whip her around to face him.

"You know, Santa’s been wondering if you’ve been naughty or nice this year. Maybe you can hop on his lap later for a little chat." The glint in his eyes went beyond mischievous.

"Why wait?" she asked, pressing her lips against his in a lingering kiss. "Well?"

"I believe Santa will need to create a new category for you and you alone."

Her laughter warmed his heart as they walked hand in hand to the task that waited below.

The End

Happy Holidays!

Yes, this is a ‘sorta’ sequel to ‘Thankful’, even though I believe it isn’t as good as the first. I’m hoping to begin a storyline based on both after a few suggestions. Thanks Linda!