Christmas—a time to be joyful. Not for Carrie Summers. Fighting with her husband, Ryan, has become an everyday event. One afternoon, three days before Christmas, Carrie storms out of the house and drives off. She needs to get away, just to have time to think.
The drive works. Carrie plans to apologize to Ryan and afterward, suggest they put up Christmas decorations to help get into the spirit. He’d like that.
Carrie’s chance to apologize and tell Ryan he is going to be a father is stolen by a broadsiding pickup truck.
When she arrives in Heaven, or as psychics call it, the other side, she meets Jon who reviews her previous life.
It’s not a good meeting—in fact, it’s harrowing. Realizing the errors of her ways, she wants to go back and make amends. Unfortunately for Carrie, it’s too late as Jon tells her she is dead. That means there is no way…or is there?
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Heavenly Christmas
Copyright © 2010 Marc Jarrod
ISBN: 978-1-55487-743-0
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
Look for us online at:
www.eXtasybooks.com
Smashwords Edition
A Heavenly Christmas
By
Marc Jarrod
Dedication
To my wife, who has been with me through thick and thin during my writing career.
Also to my good friend and confidant, Mahalia who gave me suggestions to make the characters believable.
Prologue
Christmas—A time for giving, receiving, sometimes even forgiving. For most, this was a true statement, but not for Carrie Summers. Here she was three days before Christmas—with all the festive lights blinking everywhere. She grumbled, “With people laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile”… or however the stupid song went, but she wasn’t smiling or laughing. She was downright livid. Carrie Summers, a gorgeous 28-year old woman, was versatile with her appearance--her elegance full of extravagance.
Her short dark hair was distinctive as if capping her model’s body, long and slender with curves in all the right places. She lived in the suburbs of Blessing, Missouri with her husband, Ryan, who worked as an account executive for a marketing firm. Carrie had to admit she loved Ryan. They’d been married seven years and he was a great husband, a little absentminded, but a good man overall. If he’d just listen sometimes, then I wouldn’t get mad and he wouldn’t be in trouble yet again.
Fighting with Ryan had become an everyday event. This afternoon, Carrie had stormed out of the house and drove off, her Chevy throwing up plumes of sleet as she accelerated away from the driveway. It had been snowing all day and she knew the roads would be treacherous. She turned the radio up, hoping it would take her mind off her troubles, but it wasn’t to be. Here we go again. Bing Crosby sang Mele Kalikimaka.
“Oh give me a break,” Carrie muttered as she switched to another station. Mel Torme crooned, A Charlie Brown Christmas. Groaning, “Are you kidding me,” she switched stations for the third time. The song was changing from A Charlie Brown Christmas to Silent Night. “Okay, that’s it,” she muttered with clenched teeth as her palms slammed the steering wheel. Damn, not another Christmas song. Her finger stabbed at the radio button, plunging the car into blissful silence. Carrie drove along Gracie Road, oblivious to the Christmas decorations swaying in the wind. Salvation Army kettles with the bell ringers clanging their message for donations were on every corner. She shook her head in contempt. I hate Christmas!
Growing up it hadn’t been like that. In fact, she remembered many years of memorable celebrations with her parents. It all changed when she was nineteen and her father passed away. Sadly, all Carrie could remember of those times after the celebrations stopped, were those of her mother with a bottle of Gray Goose instead of dinner and presents. It was only after her mom’s death, that she’d been able to get back her Christmas spirit. When Carrie first married Ryan, he helped decorate the house. It’d been a fun time and something they truly enjoyed doing together. Today, even though they both put up a good front, it wasn’t the same. Maybe we’re just trying too hard.
Over seven years of marriage, they’d established their own traditions for the Christmas season. Unfortunately, during the past couple of years, neither had put forth the effort to make this time of year special. Maybe the change resulted from no family, to share it with. Ryan’s parents lived out of town and, even though he was an only child, they didn’t visit much. Carrie’s nearest relative was a cousin Ben, his wife, Julie, and their children, yet they had never spent the holidays together.
Maybe the problem was as simple as Carrie and Ryan not knowing how to make each other happy. Unfortunately, the farce strained their relationship. To her, the effort to decorate the house was a pain in the ass and grew progressively worse when she had to take it all down. This year will be like every other, Ryan and I will exchange our obligatory presents, go out to dinner and take in a late movie.
Ugh! She reached and turned the radio back on to a country station. Tammy Wynette, one of her favorites, crooned the second verse of Stand by Your Man, the part, where she sings about loving him that you’ll him forgive because he is just a man made Carrie say to herself, Yes, Ryan is just a man, isn’t he?
I’m not a bad person. I just have a short fuse. I really do like people. I’m just careful who my friends are. Katie Wells happened to be one of those friends. They’d attended the same high school and Katie had been the Maid of Honor at Carrie’s wedding.
As Carrie drove to nowhere in particular, her stomach growled. Damn, I’m hungry. She reached down and ran her hand over her abdomen. She sensed it wasn’t just hunger, but she also had the fear she might be pregnant. She’d bought a pregnancy test kit several days ago, but hadn’t used it. Bottom line, I’m not sure I want to know the truth.
She hadn’t told Ryan either, even though she knew he’d be excited. He’d wanted children from the day they married. Carrie knew he’d be a good father, just as he was a good husband. He’d demonstrated that whenever they’d been with Carrie’s cousin, Ben, and Ryan had a chance to play with his kids. This is a big step and I’m not sure it’s the right thing, especially now. I don’t really care much for children and worse, with my quick temper, I’m terrified I might hurt them. Running this over in her mind one more time only depressed her more.