Two Tickets to the Christmas Ball

by Donita K. Paul

  Cora’s eyes darted around the room, searching for anyone who might have overheard. She leaned closer and whispered. “I don’t know if he likes me in a way that would lead to anything. And I haven’t even figured out if I like him more than just… like.” She scrunched her nose. “You know what I mean?”

  Mrs. Hudson nodded. “I most certainly do. I raised five girls. My Ginny used to say like, liker, likiest. Like a boy. Liker a boy a whole lot. Likiest him to pieces. After likiest came love.”

  Cora drew back and angled away from her supervisor. “Have you been sipping eggnog during breaks?”

  Mrs. Hudson laughed and patted Cora’s arm. “You missed the silliness of sisters and dating. And Dad scowling at your dates until beads of sweat popped out on their foreheads and their voices cracked.”

  “If I had dated when I still lived at home, my dad would have—” She caught herself and chose not to offer a glimpse of her home life. She forced a smile on her lips. “I e-mailed you the letter I composed to address the problems with the Midwest Hanger account. Have you had a chance to look it over?”

  “Humph!” Mrs. Hudson stood. “I’ll do it now.” She frowned down at her. “Sometimes, Cora, you drain the color from a conversation. And I always wonder why.”

  Cora watched the woman walk away. That didn’t go well. She’d poured turkey gravy on Mrs. Hudson’s offer of cranberry cheesecake, ruining the camaraderie of the moment. Maybe she should have asked the older woman about her dinner with Simon and Sandy tonight. What should she expect? How should she act? Mrs. Hudson would probably enjoy the discussion.

  She turned back to her desktop with a small frown.

  “Focus,” Simon’s father said. Focus. She needed to focus and not let her unpleasant family, mixed emotions about Simon—oops!—Mr. Derrick, and the lovely prospect of the ball keep muddling her thinking. Focus.

  A crisis developed right before lunch, and Cora decided to eat at her desk. Tiffany, the office gossip, brought her a hot mug of tea and sat down to catch up on Cora’s news.

  “So Serious Simon Derrick is not married,” Tiffany said as she leaned over her own cup of coffee, her eyes examining Cora’s face.

  Cora shrank back. This was going to be one of those times when talking to Tiffany would make Cora uneasy.

  Tiffany sipped her coffee. “So… the ‘family’ he uses as a shield is not wife and kiddos, but more mom and pop and a sister?”

  “Mother, Granddad, Aunt Mae, and sister, Sandy.”

  “I never would have guessed. He never flirts. And even some of the married men do that. So how’d you get through his defenses?”

  “Just circumstances.” Cora tried to busy herself with opening and closing e-mail windows. “And I wouldn’t say I was favored to have a seat in the inner sanctum. He’s totally ignoring me today.”

  “He ignores us all. It’s his modus operandi. He does business with us and nothing more.”

  Cora sighed and looked around. Upper management was in a conference about the crisis. “But now I know he has a warmer side. And he even has a sense of humor.”

  Tiffany’s eyes widened, and her eyebrows went up. “So this is turning into something more for you than just a chance encounter at a bookstore. Perhaps some romance at the Wizards’ Christmas Ball?”

  Cora flinched. Tiffany could do a lot of harm. She tilted her head and studied her co-worker. Tiffany was fun, but Cora made it a practice not to talk about her personal life much. Now she’d slipped up with the least trustworthy member of the staff. At least she hadn’t referred to her plans for the evening.

  Tiffany’s next statement almost made Cora choke.

  “It’s not a sin, you know, to like one of the bosses.” Tiffany frowned. “How are we single girls supposed to find the man of our dreams if the workplace is off limits?”

  “Church?”

  “I don’t know about you, but our church is in the negative numbers when it comes to eligible bachelors.”

  Tiffany popped out of her seat and scurried back to work. Just then a couple of workers walked by, grumbling about a meeting. Tiffany was good at the hasty retreat. Cora would do well to emulate that behavior when tempted to discuss Simon and his family and her fluttering heart.

  The mood in their office reflected the strain of too much to do before the holidays. A huge mix-up in the shipping department had to be dealt with that day or Christmas Eve deliveries would be impossible. Cora worked to remedy the situation and be sure her corner of the business world ran smoothly. Sorenby’s didn’t need any additional glitches.

  By five o’clock a solution had been found, and the tension eased off. Co-workers laughed and parted company with a heightened sense of the vacation just around the corner. Cora closed down her computer and peered back at Simon’s office.

  “He’s up on the executive floor.” Mrs. Hudson informed her.

  Cora jumped again. “What kind of shoes are you wearing?” she complained. “You never used to sneak up on me.”

  “It’s not what I’m putting on my feet, but where your mind is wandering.”

  Her supervisor’s voice sounded calm and pleasant, but Cora felt herself cringe. “Am I going to get a reprimand?”

  “My goodness, girl, you always assume the worst.” Mrs. Hudson sighed. “No, of course not. But you won’t get a glimpse of Simon tonight. I’m hoping the executives are giving him the approval he deserves. He’s the one who caught the error.”

  “Was it our fault?”

  “No, but that wouldn’t have mattered much if the delivery had been delayed until next week.” She turned toward her desk and waved cheerily. “I’ll race you to the parking garage. I don’t want to spend one more minute at work. I have company coming for dinner.”

  Cora had company coming as well. Simon was to bring Sandy over for a visit with the kittens. She was fixing spaghetti meat loaf at Sandy’s request. Perhaps that wouldn’t happen tonight, after all.

  Her suspicion proved to be partially true. Sandy and Simon couldn’t come until late in the evening, after dinner. Probably after eight. She would serve spaghetti meat loaf another time. Instead, she made dinner for one. Salad and a slab of fish microwaved and covered with a Cajun sauce. She picked at her cod and poked the fork in the salad. When she finally took a bite, she made sure she came up with a piece covered with dressing.

  Neither Mrs. Hudson nor Tiffany thought an interoffice romance would rock Sorenby’s. Cora admitted she felt more than just a casual interest in her supervisor’s supervisor. He was very attractive outside the office and rather boring inside. His care for his family charmed her. But he was so different at work. She stabbed her fish and scooped up the tender morsel that flaked off.

  The phone rang. Dropping her fork, she jumped up to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Howdy, Sis,” Zee’s voice greeted her.

  Cora clenched her teeth and had to consciously force them apart to speak. “What is it?”

  “Shouldn’t that be ‘Who is it?’ ”

  “I know it’s you, Zee. What do you want?”

  “Your affection for me is astonishing.”

  Sharp words came too easily to her tongue. “Cut it out and get down to why you called.”

  “Just to tell you I’ve found a new love interest. I won’t need to sponge off you. He’ll take me under his wing and give me a free ride.”

  “Congratulations. Give me his name. I’ll give him a call to warn him to hold on to his credit cards.”

  Zee’s laugh sounded harsh and lasted too long. “I think not, Cora. When I leave, I like to have been of some value in a man’s life. I teach them not only about of the pleasures of living but the dangers as well. You wouldn’t want to spoil one of my favorite lessons, would you?”

  “On the contrary, I’d be delighted.” Cora placed a hand on her stomach. This familiar exchange of ugly comments made her sick. She had to snap out of it. She shouldn’t be treating her sister like this.

  Zee snorted. “You
always were a prude.”

  “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

  “Just to wish you a Merry Christmas and to tell you I’ll be moving on by New Year’s.”

  Cora bit back the automatic response. “Zee, you know there’s more to Christmas. Why don’t you really make this year different and allow your heart to—”

  The dial tone informed Cora that her sister didn’t want to hear about Jesus. She tapped the End button and went to clear the table.

  She knew better than to trade nasty remarks with her sister. She also knew better than to preach. Why couldn’t she get anything right?

  The weight of an early memory buckled her knees. She put the plate down on the table and collapsed into her chair. One night when she was nine and her sister Suzanne was six, Cora had held her all night long. The man who shared the house with their mother at the time raged from room to room in a drunken fury. Cora wedged herself and her sick sister between their twin bed and the wall.

  Suzanne’s fever rose. She whimpered and shivered. The sisters finally fell asleep. When Cora woke in the morning and Suzanne lay unmoving in her arms, she thought her sister had died.

  Back then the prospect of death filled her with terror. Someone along the way had told her that life after death was just like life before, but much worse, and hell included lakes of fire, monsters that ate flesh, and unbearable noise.

  After several years of Bible study, she had a better understanding of what hell would be like. Hell no longer had the power to scare her. She wouldn’t be going there. But she still saw Suzanne as a sick child, needing the comfort and protection of Jesus.

  Help me to pray for her.

  The doorbell rang, and Cora got to her feet to answer.

  Oh Lord, don’t let that be her.

  Ouch! I just asked to pray for her.

  She put her eye to the peephole and let out a great sigh of relief. She opened the door and welcomed Sandy and Simon’s mother.

  “Simon couldn’t make it after all,” Mrs. Derrick said. “He had something he had to do tonight.” She rushed over the words as if they’d been rehearsed. “I hope you don’t mind that we still came.”

  “Of course not.” Cora took their coats. “It’s Sandy who wants to see the kittens. I’m not sure Simon is interested.”

  Sandy went straight to the cardboard box, knelt down, and spoke quietly to Skippy and her babies.

  Mrs. Derrick smiled as she watched. Then she turned to Cora. “Simon is good with animals and has always loved dogs, cats, birds, lizards, and all the things little boys bring home.”

  Cora imagined Serious Simon with a frog cupped in his hands.

  “And injured animals,” continued his mother. “He had a knack for finding the wounded and bringing them home. I think if his father hadn’t died, he would have been a veterinarian.”

  Cora frowned. What was the connection?

  “Money, dear,” Mrs. Derrick answered. “Even though we discouraged him to take the responsibility, he took on all his father’s chores. And eventually Simon jumped into the role of breadwinner. My friend, who’s a counselor, told me to let him. It was his way of dealing with his grief and something he needed to do.”

  Cora nodded slowly. She could understand that thinking. “I grabbed education as my life preserver. Once I got out of my family’s house and started living with another family, the Bells, I imitated them right and left.”

  “Were they believers?”

  “Mr. Bell made sure to present the plan of salvation.” Cora laughed and deepened her voice to sound like a man. “ ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’ ”

  Mrs. Derrick smiled at the familiar verse. “And it worked, so it seems.”

  Cora laughed. “For about six months, I worked the plan of salvation. It was such a relief when I figured out the part about a free gift from God and no need to work for it. Somehow I had missed that point in Mr. Bell’s presentation of the gospel.”

  “You aren’t the only one who’s made that mistake.” Mrs. Derrick sat on the couch and accepted the kitten Sandy offered her. She held the tiny creature in her lap and used two fingers to stroke its back.

  “Is it a girl or a boy?” asked Sandy.

  Cora shrugged. “I have no idea. We’ll ask the vet when we take them in for shots.”

  “Simon will take us,” Sandy said. “He isn’t always busy like tonight.”

  Mrs. Derrick made a motion at Sandy as if to stop her from speaking, but her daughter didn’t see her.

  “He got a phone call and had to go meet someone.”

  “Sandy,” said Mrs. Derrick. “We shouldn’t be talking about Simon’s business.”

  Sandy turned wide eyes to her mom and shook her head. “It wasn’t business, Mom. It was a lady named Zee. Isn’t that a funny name?”

  Mrs. Derrick bit her lips and cast Cora an apologetic look. “I don’t know who this person is or what was so important that he had to see her tonight. Perhaps it’s someone from church.”

  Cora forced her lips to part. She didn’t want Simon’s mother to read the anger and hurt that welled within her. “I know who it is.”

  Simon’s mother sighed her relief. “Oh, then it is about work.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Cora busied herself with the kittens and Skippy. She became the perfect hostess and plied her guests with cookies and eggnog. Somehow she managed to keep a conversation going until Simon’s mother and sister left. Then with fierce determination, she went through her nightly routine and put herself to bed.

  Anger boiled through her, keeping her from shutting her eyes. She got up and picked a book from the shelf. A good novel, one about forgiveness. When she turned out the light after three in the morning, she quoted a verse to put herself to sleep. “ ‘In all things God works for the good of those who love him.’ ” Does anything I do count for good?

  14

  Cora gave thanks for the rush of the season. Busyness obscured the problems weighing on her mind. The office whirled with activity, and she only saw Simon once, and that was from a distance. She kept her nose pointed at her computer screen. When five-thirty rolled around, she’d done a record amount of data entry, tracked down two stray shipments, and solved a dozen or more pesky problems. She closed down her station, made a trip to the break room, and hustled toward the door. She didn’t want to run into Simon.

  In the crowded elevator at the end of the day, her co-workers traded festive banter. The anticipation of a few days off with family and friends injected a twist of humor into almost every exchange. One more day at work, and most of her co-workers would be off from Christmas Eve until January 2. Cora smiled but couldn’t bring herself to join in the excitement. The elevator doors opened, and with cheery good-byes, her co-workers went their own ways through the parking garage.

  As she turned a corner in the dreary concrete-columned chamber, her heart sank at the sight of Simon leaning against his car. He looked like he’d been there awhile, with his arms folded over his chest and ankles crossed.

  He straightened and plunged his hands into his pockets as she approached. “Mom called today and said Sandy told you about my meeting with Zee.”

  Cora nodded and pulled her keys out of her purse.

  “I thought you might have misunderstood.”

  She nodded again. She wanted to say something, but her emotions paralyzed her vocal cords. Anger had dominated her reaction last night. Now she felt betrayed, both by her conniving sister and by this man who should have better judgment.

  “She called the house and said you had given her my number.”

  Her throat relaxed. This trick sounded just like Suzanne hard at work, trying to cause as much trouble as possible. She probably just looked up the number in the phone book. How often had she fallen for her lines? Simon had no previous experience with her sister’s winsome ways. She sighed and pointed out the obvious. “I d
on’t have your home number.”

  “I figured that out later. And when I thought about what she said, I realized she had only implied that you had suggested we talk.”

  Cora looked at the cement floor. “Suzanne is gifted in expressing herself. She can make you believe anything. She manipulates people so they make conclusions that aren’t based in reality. She makes them believe, but in her own twisted perception of the way she thinks things should be—the way Zee wants them to be.”

  Simon stepped closer and put his hand on her arm. His low, compassionate voice sent a shiver through her. “I realize that now.”

  She almost leaned into him, but he continued talking. “I still think we need to reach out and allow her to explore these new feelings of unworthiness. She may be ready to accept that she can’t do everything on her own and invite God into her life.”

  Cora shook her head. “I’ve heard it all before.”

  “This time might be different. She asked some pointed questions last night.”

  “Simon.” Cora sighed. “Suzanne worked for a small-time television evangelist. She knows the strings to pull, the buttons to push, the lingo to use. Preacher Bob was a charlatan, and he trained her well. She knows exactly what she’s doing.” She moved away from the comfort of his closeness to her car door.

  Simon shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m supposed to meet with her again tonight, and Pastor Greg will be there. Would you come too?”

  Cora jammed the key in the lock. “No.”

  “Give her a chance, Cora.”

  She swung the door open, threw her purse across to the passenger seat, and swiftly sat. “Just remember I warned you.” She slammed the door and started the engine. She took deep breaths as she backed up. She didn’t want to start bawling.

  The drive home mercifully occupied her attention. She concentrated on the traffic. The snow and ice had melted, but every last-minute shopper in town raced over the roads in the wintery night.