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“Can we put these on the front porch posts?” Theo asked as he looked between his grandfather and Maggie. “They’ll look like the stars in Harbor Square.”

Ben finally knelt on the rug beside his grandson, reaching into the box to lift out a carved wooden pinecone tied with a red jute string. “They’ll look even better than those,” Ben said, setting the pinecone in Theo’s palm. “Let’s get the string straightened out first.”

Maggie watched them from her seat on the braided rug, her heart filling with a profound warmth. The room was still filled with missed memories and unhealed sorrow, but surrounded by the open boxes, Ben Foster was no longer hiding in the dark. He was sharing his life with his grandson, one wooden star at a time.

Theo pulled a cardboard box labeled Window Lights out from behind the green trunk, setting it on the rug near the front bay window. The window looked directly out over the gravel driveway and the snow-dusted lawn sloping down toward Harbor Lane, offering a clear view of the gray channel water beyond the road.

“We used to wrap these around the windowpanes,” Theo said, his hands tugging at the cardboard flaps until the top opened. “So the boats out in the harbor could see the colored bulbs when they came in after dark.”

“I’m glad you can remember that.” Ben reached down, lifting a thick bundle of green wire from the box. What emerged was an impossible, fifty-foot bird’s nest of tangled cords, plastic sockets, and multi-colored glass bulbs. Red, green, blue, and yellow lights were woven together in a tight, impenetrable knot that looked as if it had been tossed into the box without a second thought.

Ben held the massive tangle up into the afternoon light, his dark brows pulling together in a baffled frown. “Looks like somebody shoved this in here during a heavy snowstorm and closed the lid.” He sighed. “To be honest, this was probably my doing.”

“I can help untangle it,” Maggie offered, kneeling on the woven rug opposite him. She grabbed one end of the main green cord, finding a loose loop near the top socket. “If you hold the center steady, I’ll feed the end through the loops.”

Ben sat back on his heels, holding the central knot in his calloused hands while Maggie worked the green wire. Their fingers brushed briefly as she pulled a yellow bulb through a tight loop, the unexpected heat of his skin sending a sudden fluttering pulse through her hands.

Ben didn’t pull away. He simply adjusted his grip, easing the tension on the wire so she could slide the cord free. Maggie continued on, ignoring the odd sensation.

Across the living room, Theo took an artificial reindeer out of the third cardboard box. The reindeer was made of white painted wire wrapped in silver tinsel, standing about two feet high with a red ribbon tied around its neck.

Theo tried to stand the reindeer on the brick hearth near the wood-burner, but one of its front wire legs was bent slightly inward. He let go of the frame, and the reindeer instantly wobbled, tipped over sideways, and collapsed onto the hearth with a loud, metallic clatter.

Theo cringed at the sideways reindeer, a small, sweet chuckle escaping his lips. “It looks like it took a nap on the hearth.”

Maggie laughed, feeding another foot of green cord out of the central tangle. “Give the wire leg a gentle pull outward. It just needs a little adjustment to find its balance.”

Theo crouched down, carefully straightening the wire leg before setting the reindeer back on the hearth. This time, the frame held firm, its silver tinsel catching the warm orange light of the fire.

Outside the front bay window, a sudden commotion broke the quiet of Harbor Lane. A large, fluffy golden retriever came trotting down the gravel path outside the fence. The dog held a bright red knitted holiday scarf in his jaws, his tail wagging furiously as he trotted past the front gate with cheerful determination.

A second later, Ray Donnelly came jogging down the road after the dog, his dark coat unbuttoned, his cap crooked, and his face red from the cold air. “Baxter! Stop right there! Put that scarf down!” Ray’s voice echoed through the glass window as he jogged past the driveway.

Theo scrambled to his feet, running over to the bay window and pressing his hands against the glass. “Look outside! Ray’s dog stole somebody’s scarf!”

Maggie looked up from the wire knot, laughing along with the boy as she watched Ray make a desperate grab for the retriever’s collar, only for Baxter to leap forward with a joyful bark and trot farther down Harbor Lane in the direction of the marina.

Ben turned his head toward the window to watch the chase, stepping backward as he lifted the main tangle of lights to give Maggie more slack. In his distraction, his heel caught the thick pine garland trailing across the floorboards behind his boot.

Ben’s balance gave way. He let out a surprised grunt, his arms windmilling as he stumbled backward toward the sofa. Maggie reached out instinctively, grabbing the pine garland to steady him, but the heavy green tinsel pulled her off balance as well.

“Oh, goodness!” She tumbled forward, catching Ben’s wool sweater as they both went down onto the braided rug in a tangled heap. The fifty-foot strand of multi-colored lights exploded across the floor around them, draping green wire and tiny glass bulbs over their boots, their knees, and the pine garland.

Theo turned from the window, his eyes wide with shock, before he let out a loud, delighted burst of giggles and dropped onto the rug beside them.

For a handful of seconds, Ben lay flat on his back on the woven rug, a green glass bulb resting on his shoulder and a length of tinsel draped over his forehead. He stared up at the ceiling beams, his chest heaving to catch his breath, before a low rumble started deep in his chest. He burst into a rich, boisterous laugh that bounced off the living room walls.

Maggie lay beside him on her elbow, her hair tumbling out of its neat clip, laughing so hard her ribs ached. Her laughter blended with theirs, and it became a symphony of uncontrollable, contagious laughter that swept through the house, washing away the solemn silence in a single, joyful moment.

Theo rolled onto his side on the rug, kicking his feet in the air as he clutched his belly. “You fell into the Christmas tree wires!” he bellowed.

“I was tripped by an aggressive pine garland,” Ben gasped out, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he reached up to pull the tinsel off his forehead.

Maggie sat up, untangling a loop of green cord from her shoe as her chuckles wound down. “That garland really came after us with malicious intent.” She looked down at Ben, whose gray eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine, unburdened happiness.

For the first time since she’d met him, that dark shadow of grief was completely absent from his face. In that moment, they weren’t two family members and the woman who was fighting to heal their hearts. They were simply three people sitting on a living room floor in a mess of tangled lights, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and life.

Ben reached out from where he sat, grabbing the end of the green cord and untying the final knot with ease. “Well,” he said, his voice still warm with residual laughter. “At least the lights are untangled now.”