Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  The costumes were a hit. She should be proud. Dinner earlier had been delicious, followed by the gift exchange for the kids. She glanced toward the tent sent up beside the bandstand. The table for the bake sale was nearly empty, which could only mean they’d reached their goal. Winnie and the other women headed toward the bandstand to join in the song.

  The giant Christmas tree in the center of the park twinkled red, green and blue. The decorations on streetlights around the park, waved in the breeze, keeping beat to the song. The scene could not have been more idyllic.

  It was true, she reasoned. The pageant was perfect. A huge success. The city would be getting their community center.

  “It’s me that’s the failure,” she mumbled, pushing her hands deeper into her coat pockets.

  The choir finished their song, and the crowd came to life, clapping and cheering. The music continued to play over the loudspeakers, keeping the crowd in good spirits.

  “Well, it’s over,” she huffed, making a cloud of breath. “And mister wonderful didn’t even show up. Typical.” She didn’t think she’d ever felt worse. “I should be happy for Ned,” she mumbled. Didn’t people feel happy for their friends when they were in a great relationship? “I guess I’m a crappy friend too.”

  Voices and laughter filled the park as the crowd slowly dispersed, calling out to one another over the carols pumping overhead. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and Santa’s arrival was only hours away, causing the children to run and shout, begging their parents to hurry.

  As she stepped away from the bandstand, a child propelled into her arms, nearly knocking her off her feet. When she looked down, all she could see was the pom-pom on top of a knit cap, but she hugged the child in return, melting at the girl’s enthusiastic hug. The child pulled back and looked up, and Gloria was shocked to see the face of Christi beaming up at her.

  “We got a baby for Chwismas!” the little girl exclaimed, her eyes bright with happiness. “It’s a boy baby, and momma says we can keep ‘im!”

  Squatting to eye level with the girl, Gloria grinned, soaking up her pure childish joy. “That’s wonderful. What’s his name?”

  Just as the little girl opened her mouth to answer, a hand grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back. Gloria looked up to see Nadine’s friend, Sylvia.

  “You go to your mother,” the woman said to the child, her voice cold with contempt.

  Swallowing back tears, Gloria pushed to her feet. Exhausted and emotionally drained, she didn’t feel the usual knife-edge of pain, just a cold blank, empty space where her heart used to be.

  “Wait,” a voice to Gloria’s left said, and she turned to see Nadine, holding a bundle cuddled to her chest. “It’s okay, Christi,” she assured her daughter. “Why don’t you ask Miss Gloria if she’d like to see your baby brother.”

  Both Sylvia and Gloria stared at Nadine in shock.

  Christi jerked her shoulder out of Sylvia’s grasp and took Gloria’s hand. “Come see my baby!”

  Still unsure, staring down at the little girl’s excited face, Gloria didn’t want to do anything but disappear.

  “Come on!” Christi grunted, pulling with all her might.

  Not wanting to make the child unhappy, Gloria allowed herself to be led toward Nadine, her guard raising higher with each step. When they reached the woman holding the baby, she made eye contact with Nadine.

  The woman simply nodded down toward the bundle in her arms.

  Unsure what game the woman was playing, Gloria nervously tossed a glance at the crowd of people gathering around them.

  Christi tugged on the hem of her coat. “Wift me up, I want to show ‘im to you!” the little girl begged.

  Feeling trapped, like a fish in a glass bowl, Gloria bent to scoop Christi up. The song Whose Child is This rang over the park as the little girl reached out a mitten covered hand and tenderly pulled back the blanket to reveal the face of a tiny sleeping infant. The cool air must have roused the baby because his plump bottom lip poked out.

  Gloria gasped at the beauty of the baby, mesmerized by the small bundle. “He’s lovely,” she whispered, unable to keep emotion from her voice.

  Christi wiggled and squirmed, so Gloria let her down. The crowd gathered closer around them, holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

  “Gloria, I’m so—” Nadine said, her lip quivering, “…I’ve been so horrible to you.” Her voice caught, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  Reeling on her feet, surprised beyond all reason, Gloria pulled back, unable to answer past the lump in her throat. Her eyes hopped through the crowd, searching for a clue as to what she should do.

  Nadine tossed her friend, Sylvia, a pointed look, then refocused on Gloria and continued. “I know it was you who sent the casseroles all those months.”

  Sylvia’s mouth fell open, and she took a step forward to put an end to her friend’s raving, but Robert, Nadine’s husband, put his arm protectively around his wife, bringing her angry friend to a halt.

  Nadine looked past Gloria, into the crowd, seeing their eyes wide as they watched the spectacle. Ignoring them, she turned back to Gloria. “I hope you can— I’ve been hormonal and—” Nadine sniffed, bringing one hand up to dash at her tears.

  Robert reached out and took the baby, snuggling him in the crook of his arm.

  Nadine straightened her shoulders. “I’ve been horrible to you,” she continued, motioning with one hand. “And the whole time you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

  The crowd rumbled, heads turning to mumble to one another. Then, as if one, they all took a step closer, not wanting to miss what would happen next.

  “I hope I can make it up to you,” Nadine said, wiping once again at her tears.

  Unsure how to respond, Gloria’s eyes darted from Nadine then to the crowd where her gaze found Tara and Julia, both with tears rolling down their cheeks.

  Chad and Justin stood next to her friends, along with Bobby. Lizzie elbowed Elliot and hitched Isabelle higher on her hip. “It’s about time,” she muttered.

  Becky came into focus, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright. “Oh my,” the woman murmured.

  “This ain’t nuthin’,” Willie piped up, but Justin gave him the evil eye, and he shushed.

  Winnie shouldered her way through the crowd, so bundled up in coats she was hardly recognizable. Stepping up to Gloria’s side, the old woman gave her a one-armed squeeze and glared into the crowd, daring anyone to interfere with Nadine’s apology.

  Overcome with emotion, and completely flooded with confusion, Gloria choked out a sob, then turned and pushed through the crowd. Once clear of the throng, she took off at a run, rounded the bandstand, and kept going, out of the park and down the street into the night. A stitch throbbed in her side, but she ran blindly on in the direction of her car. The only thing she could think to do was to get away. Far away from the stares, the crowd, the people. Away from the whole town in general.

  When she reached her car, she fell against it, sobbing and gasping. As she fumbled with her car keys, the sound of footsteps pounded on the blacktop behind her. About the time her key slipped into the lock, Tara reached her side. Without saying a word, Tara gathered the girl into her arms, rocking her back and forth as she cried.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Gloria’s tears reduced to hick-ups and sniffles, Tara stepped back, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  Gloria nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s been a hell-of-a-day hasn’t it,” Tara lamented.

  Rubbing the back of her hand across one cheek, Gloria sniffed. “I just want to go home and go to bed.”

  Tara put one hand on her friend’s back, her eyes searching Gloria’s face. “Is Fergus home? Are you okay to drive?”

  She nodded. “He’s waiting up. I’ll be okay.”

  “If you’re sure,” Tara said, taking a step
back. She bit her bottom lip, glanced down the road, then spoke. “I really think Nadine meant what she said.”

  Gloria shrugged, unable to process the turn of events.

  “Well,” Tara said, still unsure how to help. “You drive safe. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  Tugging open her car door, Gloria nodded. “Thanks, Tara. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, honey,” Tara said. Closing Gloria’s car door, she stepped back and watched as the car pulled away and headed off into the night.

  * * *

  As she bumped along the gravel drive, past the greenhouses and up to the house, Gloria played the day back in her mind. She’d been so happy when she woke up, so excited, then Ned had announced he wouldn’t be at the pageant. She should have known right then, that instant, that he had more important things to do. If she were any kind of friend, she’d be happy for him. He had a girlfriend to spend Christmas Eve with. And besides, she chided herself, she’d been determined not to have anything to do with men while preparing for the pageant. Well, she snorted, I got exactly what I wanted for Christmas, didn’t I.

  And then, to top the whole terrible day off, her secret admirer hadn’t shown up. Why, why would someone send such sweet letters, and say they want to meet you, then not bother to follow through? Had he somehow gotten wind of her heartbreak over Ned? She shook her head. Tara and Julia would never tell anyone, would they?

  Her chest ached, and she gripped the wheel harder, riding out the wave of pain and disappointment. She should have realized that Christmas joy was for other people. Of course, the letters would amount to nothing! And she should have known that she would fall head over heels for the handsome deputy. She was a fool. A silly, small-town fool.

  Rounding the last curve, she saw several cars pulled up to the house. Concerned that something had happened to Fergus, she stepped on the gas, but as she got closer, her eyes widened in shock. Pulling her car to a stop, she turned off the engine and climbed out. Dragging her purse behind her, she stood staring at the long car pulled up to her porch. A gust of cold wind brought her to her senses, and she closed her car door, then took one halting step toward the stretch limo that sat with its headlights on, puffing out warm exhaust into the cool night air.

  The door of the house flew open, and Beatrice marched out onto the porch. “Well, are you coming in or not?” she demanded, with her hands on her hips. “I’ve been waiting for hours!”

  Gloria circled the front of the limo, her eyes wide. “What’s going on?” No answer was forthcoming, so she stopped in front of the car and reached out to touch the hood ornament, certain that the whole thing would disappear under her finger. But the car was really there, warm to the touch. Beatrice and Harold’s car was there as well. Had they brought the limo?

  “Quit dawdling,” Beatrice snapped. “It’s cold out here.”

  Scowling in confusion, Gloria went up the front porch steps, past the older woman and into the house. Fergus sat on the couch next to the Christmas tree, with Harold, Beatrice’ husband. Fergus waved, giving her a wide, toothless grin. The front door banged shut behind her, and she jumped.

  Turning to Beatrice, her face was pale and her eyes wide with concern. “I don’t —”

  “Well don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open like a codfish,” Beatrice said.

  Gloria’s mouth snapped closed.

  “Come on, girl, let’s get you dressed. No time to waste,” Beatrice ordered, placing her hands on Gloria’s shoulders, turning her toward her bedroom. When they reached the hall, Gloria shook off the older woman’s grip. “Dressed! Why are you here? What is going on?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “See what?” Gloria cried, growing irritated. Until, that is, she saw the shimmering, sequin covered, sapphire blue gown spread across the foot of her bed. It was a long, fitted, mermaid flair, vintage style gown, with a cut-out back and scoop neck.

  Once again, her mouth fell open as she stepped to the end of the bed, reaching out to touch the sparkling dress. “Beatrice, what—”

  “This isn’t from me, dear, I can assure you,” the older woman huffed. “I bought you classic and timeless, utilitarian clothing.”

  Gloria glanced down at her beautiful boots and soft leather jacket, both proving the woman’s statement untrue, but her gaze couldn’t help but return to the shimmering dress. “Then where—”

  Beatrice raised her hands. “I’m just here to deliver the thing and put you in it.”

  “Why would I wear this?” Gloria finally demanded, finding a bit of gumption. “I’m planning to go to bed!”

  “Oh no you’re not,” Beatrice scoffed. “Now stop being argumentative and get undressed,” she demanded as she closed the bedroom door.

  Gloria lifted a hand to protest but she spotted lacy lingerie, stockings, and new shoes on the bed beside the dress. Her wide eyes rose to Beatrice.

  “Okay, okay, I bought the under things, but they were necessary,” Beatrice admitted.

  Obviously, something big was happening, Gloria realized, and she was supposed to get dressed up for it. Then she remembered the car outside and her pulse rate increased. This could only be from her mystery man, she realized in shock. He hadn’t forgotten her after all!

  Suddenly in a rush, she allowed Beatrice to help her undress and step into the fancy underthings and dress. Beatrice hooked and snapped the dress behind her, and soon Gloria stood in front of her full-length mirror. She didn’t have much time to admire her reflection, however, because Beatrice motioned toward her feet. So, in a trance, Gloria braced her hand on the wall and stepped into the strappy high-heeled shoes.

  “Now for your hair,” Beatrice said before Gloria could even admire the shoes.

  “But how did… You must have told him my size,” she sputtered, as Beatrice yanked open the bedroom door and pushed her into the hall.

  “Oh, I may have offered size information, and a tailor,” Beatrice blustered, pulling open the bathroom door. “But I had nothing else to do with this.”

  Gloria blinked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Was that really her figure covered in the lovely sequin gown?

  “I was thinking a simple chignon would be elegant,” Beatrice said, digging in a bag on the counter. “How does that sound?”

  “A what?”

  “Face forward,” the older woman commanded.

  Gloria gave up asking questions as Beatrice pulled a comb through her hair, being none too careful with snarls. She didn’t have much time to contemplate what was going to happen next, because Beatrice stepped back and placed one fist on her hip. The woman contemplated her handy work as she pulled a bobby pin from her mouth. “Well, what do you think?” she demanded.

  Focusing on the mirror, Gloria was shocked to see a stylish, sophisticated woman staring back at her. Turning her head, she craned her neck to see the back of her hair. All she could tell was that it was swept up into a rolled bun or some sort.

  “Close your eyes!” Beatrice barked, leaving Gloria barely enough time to clamp her eyes and mouth shut before hairspray misted across her head.

  Beatrice stepped back for a better look, nodding to herself in satisfaction. “I do good work,” she muttered, reaching out to turn Gloria around. “Oh!” she gasped. “I almost forgot!” Huffing and puffing, the woman scuttled past Gloria and into the hall.

  Gloria followed, lifting the hem of her gown to admire the lovely shoes.

  “Don’t you come out here yet!” Beatrice cried from the living room.

  Waiting for the older woman to return, Gloria could only stare down at the beautiful dress. She smoothed her hand down the front of the gown, marveling at the perfect fit. She turned to one side, admiring how it glimmered when she moved.

  Beatrice puffed back into the hall with a small brown case in her hands. Placing one hand on her chest, she paused to catch her breath, then looked up at Gloria. The older woman’s face softened, and for a moment Gloria was afraid the woman
would tear up, but Beatrice regained control and cleared her throat.

  “These are mine, dear, but I want you to wear them tonight. When I saw your gown, I knew—” Beatrice choked, but continued. “I knew they’d be perfect.”

  The case creaked open, and Gloria’s eyes widened. Lying in the white satin interior of the box was a lovely, diamond and sapphire, necklace and earrings set. Her gaze flew up to Beatrice, shocked, thrilled, and horrified that she was expected to wear such expensive jewelry.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Beatrice said, lifting the necklace from the box. “They’re insured. I wouldn’t bring them out here if they weren’t.” And with that, she clasped the necklace around Gloria’s neck.

  The gems lay on her chest glimmering up at her as if they were alive, and for the life of her, Gloria couldn’t find anything to say. The earrings came next, and she stepped back into the bathroom to stare into the mirror over the sink.

  “Powder your nose, dear, and freshen your make up,” Beatrice bossed. “Then you’ll be on your way.”

  “To where?” she asked, but Beatrice had already closed the bathroom door.

  A few moments later, Gloria stepped hesitantly into the living room, and Fergus came to his feet, his eyes wide. Harold followed, his face one big grin, and Beatrice clasped her hands to her chest in delight. “Oh, my goodness,” she cooed. Then, remembering, she reached behind her. “One last thing,” she mumbled, lifting a box from the sofa. “I saw these and I thought they might…” but her voice faded away when she saw the look on Gloria’s face.

  Gloria could only stare in amazement as Beatrice pulled out a pair of long, silver, opera gloves and a matching clutch purse.

  Shaking like a baby bird, Gloria held out one hand and then the other, allowing Beatrice to tug the gloves up her arms. She’d never worn long gloves, but with the tiny cap sleeves of the gown, they felt like the epitome of glamour. Beatrice handed her the clutch, and she unzipped it to find her cell phone, ID, and a compact already tucked inside.