IT HAD BEEN a wonderful night with our family. And the transformation Stacey Lee had brought to the barn made it even more wonderful.
The splintery old beams had been wrapped in yards and yards of lacey gold-and-white cloth. Evergreen sprays were dotted with holly and ivy and hung from the doors of every stall. The goats and donkey and pig and my white mare looked like they might really be part of a Nativity tableau.
Round tables, each of them big enough for a dozen diners, encircled a raised white dance floor. Each table held bouquets of evergreens and white roses. Hundreds of sprigs of mistletoe hung from the rafters. It would be impossible to walk three feet without inviting a kiss from somebody.
And finally the lights—the thousands of sparkling, twinkling white lights that blanketed the walls and the ceiling truly made the scene look like the most exquisite winter night ever. I hugged Stacey Lee.
“How can I thank you?” I said. “In my wildest dreams I never imagined anything this beautiful.”
“Honestly, me neither,” she said.
“It’s like that old line about Venice,” Tom said. “It’s what God would have done—if He only had the money.”
Then I had an idea. I took the cell phone out of my pocket and speed-dialed Lizzie.
“Did I wake you?” I asked, but I didn’t wait for an answer. “I hope not, but even if I did, you’ll be glad I called. We’re all standing in the barn, the barn that Stacey Lee has turned into a Christmas palace. And we’re all oohing and aahing and crying and laughing, and I thought…well, I’m going to hold the phone up…I just wanted you to be here too. And Mike, if he’s up.”
My singing voice should be called my croaking voice, but I sang “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” as loud as I could.
Everyone joined in, including Lizzie on the other end of the phone. Within seconds we were the most beautiful choir in all of New England. The lights sparkled. The old horse whinnied. And my heart filled with such joy it actually hurt. There was nothing like having your family together, especially if you were all friends.