The Christmas Present: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

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The Christmas Present: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 1

by Ceci Giltenan




  Christmas

  The Pocket Watch Chronicles

  By

  Ceci Giltenan

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, locations and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Any actual locations mentioned in this book are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  All rights are retained by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The unauthorized reproduction, sharing, 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 five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Copyright 2016 by Ceci Giltenan

  www.duncurra.com

  Cover Design: Earthly Charms

  ISBN-10: 1-942623-38-0

  ISBN-13: 978-1-942623-38-0

  Produced in the USA

  Dedication

  To my lovely daughter Meghan, who asked if I was a time-traveler—only time will tell my sweet girl. Thank you for always make me laugh. I love you and I look forward to great things to come.

  And as ever, my darling Eamon.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to all of my beta-readers: Pat, Anne, K Elizabeth, Virginia, Barb and Ann. I can’t tell you how much I value your time and feedback.

  A special thank you to my sisters of the heart, Kathryn Lynn Davis and Lily Baldwin. Your support and insight are precious to me.

  And finally, thank you to my editor, John Robin. Your eye for detail is remarkable.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.

  ~ C.S. Lewis

  Chapter 1

  Wednesday, December 23, 2008

  Nona Bay, Florida

  Anita Lewis was almost finished baking cookies. She had everyone’d favorites. Her husband, Jim, loved pecan sandies. Katy, their daughter, was fond of peanut butter cookies. Their son, Jack, had been a fan of jam thumbprints, since he was a toddler. His wife adored Anita’s toffee bars. And everyone wanted chocolate chip cookies. Anita was taking the last sheet of sugar cookies, her personal favorite, out of the oven mid-morning when the phone rang. The automated voice of the caller id announced, “Katy Lewis.”

  She grinned, put the cookie sheet on a trivet to cool, turned off the oven and answered the phone. “Hi, Katy, what’s up?”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Are you all packed and ready? I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m packed, but I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “On a scale of one to ten, where one is Publix just ran out of eggplant—”

  “I hate eggplant.”

  “I know, Mom. That’s the point.”

  She laughed. “Sorry, go on.”

  “Okay, so on a scale of one to ten, where one is Publix just ran out of eggplant and ten is North Korea just bombed New York, how upset would you be if I delayed my flight?”

  Anita frowned. “Until tomorrow? You know Christmas Eve traffic can be a little crazy. The earlier you get here the better.”

  “Um…I wouldn’t be flying tomorrow either. Probably the evening of Christmas Day but the next day at the latest.”

  Anita was quiet for a moment. Nine! On that scale it’s a nine. “I’d rather you fly in tonight. You know, Jack and his family won’t be here until Christmas Day.” It was the first Christmas since they were born that one of her kids wasn’t going to be home on Christmas Eve.

  Jack had dropped that bombshell in November. “Mom, you know Erica and I have flown down every Christmas since we were married. The Hales never complain but I know it bothers them.”

  “Why should it bother them? You live ten minutes away. They can see their daughter and granddaughters practically anytime. They get everyone’s birthday, Easter, Thanksgiving, Halloween, every holiday. You can’t come down here just any old time.”

  “I know mom, and we’ll come down. It’s just, I thought we’d fly on Christmas Day. It’s just one day later. That way we can celebrate with both families. Plus, the airfare is a little cheaper on Christmas Day than it is on Christmas Eve. It will also be so much easier not having to haul all the girls’ presents from Santa and our presents to each other down there to have on Christmas Day, only to have to bring them and more back up here.”

  That was certainly true. Anita hadn’t been happy about it, but it was only one day later. They would all have Christmas dinner together. It’s just that she loved Christmas Eve the most. They had traditions. She had consoled herself with the fact that at least Katy would be there.

  Now it looked like she might not even be here until the twenty-sixth.

  “Why do you have to postpone your flight, Katy?”

  “I don’t have to, Mom. I’m just considering it.”

  “But why?”

  “It’s Tony. We had a really bad argument a few days ago.”

  By all that was holy, if she was about to say she wanted to spend Christmas with her boyfriend, Anita might burst into tears. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t see what that has to do with you catching your flight today.”

  “Mom, for the last few weeks he’s been talking about the future. You know, stuff like buying a house in a nice area with good schools. Like we’re planning to get married and have kids.”

  “But he hasn’t asked you to marry him.”

  “That’s just it. He did ask me on Friday night.”

  Anita wasn’t expecting to hear this. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Tony. No, she had been completely charmed by Tony Soldani the first time she met him, when he and Katy visited in August. Katy had only known him for a couple months but they seemed very well suited for each other.

  It wasn’t until she and Jim met Katy and Tony at Epcot for a long weekend in October that Anita began to worry. She had asked Katy something about his parents. Katy said she hadn’t met them yet. Her comment was very casual, but Anita had seen a flash of hurt in her daughter’s eyes. Anita didn’t say anything more, but later, when they were alone she’d asked Katy about it.

  “Mom, I don’t know what to think. Tony is from New Jersey and has the classic, big Italian family, four brothers and a sister, tons of aunts, uncles and cousins. They all seem really close, he talks to his family all the time but he’s never invited me to meet them.”

  “Maybe there hasn’t been a good opportunity. You said he’s been really busy with work.”

  “Yeah he has been, but he’s gone to see them. He just hasn’t asked me. Birthdays are kind of a big deal in their family. His brother Nick’s birthday was in August. We’d been dating for nearly two months by
then and had made plans to come down here together, but he didn’t take me to meet his parents that weekend. Then his brother Luke’s birthday was last week and I still wasn’t invited. I don’t understand it, but I can only think he’s not as serious about me as I thought he was.”

  Anita’s heart had broken for Katy. She knew her daughter had fallen hard for Tony and the realization that he didn’t feel the same for her had to hurt.

  Anita shook her head. She wasn’t sure what to say now. If this was confusing to her, it must have Katy wound in knots. “In October you thought things weren’t serious, then you came down alone for Thanksgiving.”

  “I know Mom, but I really liked him and I wanted to keep dating him—at least for a little while longer—but I really didn’t think it was going anywhere. That’s why I was surprised when he started talking about the future. When he asked me to marry him on Sunday evening, I was stunned. Especially considering the fact that he had driven home Friday night to celebrate his little sister’s birthday—and still hadn’t asked me to go with him. I’d been so upset about it by the time I saw him on Sunday night, I’d intended to break it off. And he up and asks me to marry him.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said no.”

  “Oh, Katy.”

  “He was shocked—I mean completely bowled over. He looked really hurt. He asked me why and I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea to marry a man without ever meeting his family. I said I’d given him several opportunities to meet you and dad, and we had to fly to Florida for that. Plus we’ve gone to dinner at Jack and Erica’s lots of times, but he had never once asked me to make the two and a half hour drive to meet his family. I said I figured he was ashamed of me or something and I didn’t need that.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I know, Mom. He said, ‘God, Katy, how could you think that? I love you.’ He tried to explain that Italian families are different and he was worried I’d be overwhelmed. He said his family, particularly his mother, can be intimidating at times. He said, ‘It’s just the way they are, and I love them, but I didn’t want them to scare you away.’ He hadn’t told them about me yet and hadn’t wanted to until he was certain I’d marry him.”

  “That seems, well…”

  “I know right? I didn’t know what to think and I was too angry to be rational. I told him he’d fouled it up and he might want to reconsider that approach with his next girlfriend.”

  “Oh, Katy, you didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But, if you’ve broken up with him, why aren’t you coming home?”

  “He came to see me last night. He had two dozen roses and he begged me to hear him out. We talked for hours and I think I understand it now. But the thing is, he wants to take me home now, today. He wants me to meet them and spend Christmas Eve with them. Then he wants to ask me to marry him again. I…Mom, I really love him.”

  Anita wanted to be angry. She wanted to say, Tony knew you were planning to come down here, he can wait until you’re back, but she couldn’t. She remembered what it was like to be young and in love and then to fight. All couples fight. The work of marriage was loving each other through a fight and resolving the issue. And the faster a problem was addressed, the easier it was to heal. “I know you love him, Katy. And I think he is a good man—even if it would have been better to address the issue of his family earlier.”

  “He was afraid of losing me.”

  “And that’s a healthy fear. He needs to value and adore you.”

  “So—Publix is out of eggplant?”

  Anita laughed. “More like Publix is out of my favorite flavor of ice cream but they’ll have it again in a few days.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Katy.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow evening.”

  “Great. I’ll talk to you then.”

  Anita hung up the phone. She stood looking around. Everything was ready. The trees were decorated, presents wrapped, cookies baked. She’d even managed to get the Christmas cards in the mail this morning. They wouldn’t arrive by Christmas, but it would have to do. Some years she was so late, she didn’t send them at all. For one of the first times in living memory, she was completely ready for Christmas. The only thing missing was her family. Her nest was empty.

  She burst into tears. She understood. She really did. It didn’t stop her from feeling sorry for herself and giving into that self-pity for a few minutes.

  She had barely managed to regain control when her husband called. “Hi, Jim.”

  “Hi hon. Anything new there today? Any calls?”

  That was all it took. She started crying again. “Katy called.”

  “What’s wrong, did something happen?”

  “She’s fine.” Anita pulled herself together to explain what had happened.

  When she had finished, Jim said, “I guess I understand his reasons.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. If there had been anyone or anything in my life that I’d thought might have pushed you away, I damn well would have avoided it until I was absolutely certain you were mine.”

  “Really?” Those words surprised her. But the idea that Jim had ever been unsure of himself and her love for him was sweet and touching.

  “Really.”

  “Christmas Eve won’t be the same without the kids here.” Her voice wavered, on the edge of tears again. “Christmas might not ever be the same.”

  “Anita, you’re upset over nothing. They’re growing older. We’re growing older. It was bound to happen. They’ll all be here in a few days.”

  She loved him, but he was such a man sometimes. She wasn’t upset over nothing but there was no point arguing.

  “Listen, I called because I’m going to be late this evening. Today has been one massive cluster-fuck. If we don’t get it sorted this evening, we’ll all be working late tomorrow too.”

  “Should I plan dinner for later? Seven?”

  “Don’t plan on me for dinner.”

  She sighed, disappointed. She didn’t want to spend this evening alone, thinking about how alone she was. “Fine. I’ll probably go to the mall and pick up a few last minute things. Maybe I’ll just get something there to eat.”

  “That sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Bye.”

  Chapter 2

  Later that day

  Sandy Cove Mall

  Nona Bay, Florida

  Anita Lewis sat at a table in the food court, staring morosely at her empty ice cream dish. I shouldn’t have eaten that. It didn’t make me feel better. She sighed. “Now instead of just depressed, I feel fat…and depressed. Well done Anita.”

  “What’s that dear?”

  Anita looked up. A sharply dressed elderly woman stood near her table with a disposable cup of some warm beverage in her hand. Anita hadn’t noticed the woman before. “I’m sorry? Did you ask me something?”

  The elderly woman smiled. “My name’s Gertrude. Do you mind if I sit down with ye to drink my tea? It’s rather crowded here today.”

  “Please do.”

  Gertrude spoke with a rich Scottish burr that Anita could have listened to all day.

  When the woman had settled herself, she smiled at Anita. “Now, as I was walking past, I thought ye said something to me and I didn’t quite hear it.”

  Anita shook her head. “No, I was just talking to myself. It’s not important.”

  Gertrude canted her head to one side, as if sizing Anita up. “Now, ye see, I think it might have been important. Things one speaks aloud normally are, whether we realize it or not.”

  “Trust me, it was completely insignificant. I’m simply regretting the ice cream I just ate.”

  “And why is that? Did ye not enjoy it? Was it not good?”

  Anita laughed. “No it was very good. It’s my favorite in fact. Technically it was frozen custard and I absolutely love frozen c
ustard. Clive’s makes the best in the area. In fact, it’s some of the best I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Then why on earth would ye regret enjoying a cup of it?”

  Anita glanced down at herself. Wasn’t it obvious? The last thing she needed was a few more calories. She was fifty-eight years old and her elastic waist white capris had bypassed “mom pants”, landing squarely in the realm of “grandma pants”. She had intended for the slightly over-large Christmas tee-shirt to camouflage her round belly and chubby thighs but she knew it wasn’t fooling anyone. Still, on top of everything else that had happened, she wasn’t going to tell this elegant stranger about her love-hate relationship with food. “It’s hard to explain.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps I can explain it. Something is bothering ye. Ye came to the mall to do some last-minute shopping, hoping that the Christmas music and decorations would cheer you up, but it didn’t work. Ye are, in fact, feeling even worse now. And on top of that, ye have spent the last hour ‘should-ing’ all over yerself.”

  “Excuse me? What did you say?”

  “Ye heard me correctly. I said ye’ve been ‘should-ing’ on yerself. Should-ing. ‘I should be happy, everyone else is;’ ‘I should have more Christmas spirit;’ I should have sent my cards out earlier;’ ‘I should have bypassed the frozen custard;’ ‘I should be a better’—well any number of things, wife, mother, daughter, friend, fill in the blank for yerself.”

  Anita blinked. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t speak.

  Gertrude leaned forward, taking Anita’s hands in hers. Her touch was warm and comforting.

  “Those tears tell me I’m right and they’re telling ye how harmful it is to ‘should’ on oneself.”

  “But it’s all true.”

  “No it is not.” Gertrude’s voice was stern, almost angry. “Ye’ve been happily married to yer husband for thirty-two years. Ye’ve weathered storms together and come out stronger. Ye have two children who are a credit to ye both. Ye’ve raised them well and they enrich this world because of it. Worrying about the timing of yer Christmas cards is beyond unimportant. Yer true friends will enjoy hearing from ye whether the card arrives before Christmas or in February, and they are the only ones who matter. Ye love frozen custard and ye don’t have it very often. Why on earth would ye dim the pleasure of enjoying a treat ye adore by piling guilt on top of it? Ye’re a beautiful woman, just as ye are. Why do ye tell yerself otherwise?”

 

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