by Amanda Tru
“I can go.”
“You’d go all the way back downtown for me? Don’t you have things to get done too?”
“Since the kids are with Mike all weekend, I thought I’d do some Christmas shopping. I can do that anywhere.”
“Really?” Victoria gave her a hug. “You’re the best sister in the world.”
“And the best maid of honor, just for the record.” She grabbed her coat, resisting the urge to point out that this was just one more in a long line of blazes she’d put out in the wake of Wildfire Wendy. At this rate, she should consider carrying a bucket of water down the aisle instead of a bouquet.
For the second time that day, Joy walked into Made to Inspire. Stopping just inside the door to wrap the little Velcro tab around her umbrella, she noticed that the candy cane stand had been restocked and moved back a good three feet. Smart move.
As she started toward the table where Victoria had found the churches earlier, a whirlwind disguised as a boy of about six whooshed in front of her. Then a woman with that all-too-familiar expression of an overwrought mom scurried along behind him.
“Jimmy! I told you not to touch anything in here!”
Joy felt for the mom. She’d be on edge too if she had her kids in this store, although thankfully, they had better self-control than this little guy appeared to have.
When she reached the table, her sense of optimism for this mission started to fade. The place where the churches were earlier had been filled in with other things…some glass snowmen…a Christmassy Eiffel Tower…a set of charming glass elves. She scanned the whole table, but there wasn’t a church in sight.
Spotting one of the store employees helping another customer over by the hand-carved wooden toy display, she firmed her resolve. With everything that Wendy had messed up in the past several months, there hadn’t been one instance where Joy had failed to come through with a solution. There had to be more glass churches available if for no other reason than that Joy couldn’t stand the thought of delivering any bad news to her sister.
The second the employee finished helping the other customer, Joy swooped in. “Excuse me.”
“Yes? Can I help you?” The fortyish woman with strands of gray in her dark blonde chignon was a study in practiced retail patience.
“I hope so.” Joy started back toward the glass ornaments and gestured for her to follow. “My sister and I were here earlier, and we bought eighteen little glass churches.” Speaking over her shoulder, she swept her hand in the direction of the display as she walked. “Only we were supposed to be getting twenty. There was a mix-up, and…” Reaching the table, she paused, entertaining the notion that if she explained that it had been an error on the part of their inept wedding planner, that would make a difference in the availability of more tiny churches.
“I know just the ones you mean.”
The woman sounded so cheerful that Joy relegated her blame-placing to a backup plan that she hopefully wouldn’t need to resort to.
But as the clerk surveyed the table, her pleasant expression wilted. “I know we sold a few more this afternoon…”
They did? Oh no. Was she going to spend her Christmas-shopping time today hunting down the people who had bought the glass churches and offering them top dollar to hand them over?
“But…” There had to be a solution. “They’re for my sister’s wedding. She really has her heart set on having one for each table.”
“I understand. Let me see if we have any more in the back.”
As the woman disappeared, presumably to the back, Joy busied herself by looking around the store. Before she realized it, she was on her way to the tree. What could it hurt to check if the dog that looked remarkably like Henry was still hanging there?
If it was still there…maybe that was a sign that she was supposed to give it to Kyle. That he would appreciate it and take it in the spirit in which it was intended.
When she checked the animal side of the tree, it wasn’t there. She scoffed. Someone had probably just put it back in the wrong place. She made her way around the tree, but there was no sign of it anywhere.
Certain that she was just overlooking it, she set her umbrella on a table next to the tree and started separating branches to see if it had just worked its way to the back.
“I’m so sorry, but we don’t have any more in stock.”
“What?” Joy whipped around at the sound of the clerk’s voice like she’d been caught shoplifting.
A momentary look of confusion on the woman’s face was quickly replaced with her go-to pleasant expression. “I’m afraid someone else came in and scooped up all we had earlier this afternoon.”
A burning sensation that had become commonplace whenever Wendy dropped the ball formed in Joy’s chest. It was fine for Victoria to be patient with the woman. She wasn’t the one who had to go around fixing the problems she created.
“The artist is local.” The clerk offered. “I could ask if she’d be willing to make some more on special order.”
“Oh. Would you? That would be great.”
As the woman smiled and made a move for the front counter, Joy took one last sad look at the tree. Then a thought occurred to her. If the churches could be made on special order, maybe the dog ornament could too. She called out after the clerk. “Excuse me.”
The woman turned. “Yes?”
“I was wondering if maybe you could—”
A sound that resembled an air raid siren cut her off. She turned around to see the overwrought mom kneeling next to the tree and trying to pry something out of little Jimmy’s hands.
Joy thought again. If she’d been so sure that the ornament’s presence would have been a sign, why wasn’t she equally committed to the belief that it’s not being there held the same meaning?
Turning back to the clerk, she shook her head. “Never mind.”
Ten minutes and one successful phone call to the artist later, Joy thanked the clerk and headed for the door. Seeing that the rain had started coming down even harder, she reached for her umbrella, but…where was it?
She’d had it when she came in, she was certain of it. Then she remembered. When she had wanted to dig for the dog ornament, she had set it down on the table. Good thing it was still raining, or she probably wouldn’t even have thought about it till the next time she needed it.
She hurried back to the center of the room, pleased to see that her umbrella was still there and hadn’t been mistaken for a remarkably realistic umbrella tree ornament. She snapped it up and started to go, but stopped. Slowly, she turned back to the tree. There in front of her was the Rhodesian Ridgeback ornament.
A slow smile spread across her face. Had that been the thing that the mom had just pried from her whirlwind child’s sticky little fingers?
Reaching for the dog, she smiled. Talk about a sign.
By Sunday evening, Joy was kicking herself for spending money on that ornament. Victoria was right. Not the part about giving it to Kyle being a good idea, but in her reason for thinking so. Victoria was skilled at reading men while Joy, on the other hand, was the worst. The last thing she needed was to make things awkward with a client.
She tucked the bag from Made to Inspire into her purse. Now she’d have to make another trip downtown to return it to the store. Like she didn’t have enough to do as it was.
Crossing to the front window, she chided herself. Why was she wasting so much time dwelling on this? It wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty of other things to think about.
Like why Mike was late bringing the kids home. Again.
A sad little sigh escaped her throat. Truth be told, there were plenty of things around this house that should be occupying her thoughts. Like that drainpipe on the end of the porch that had shifted out of position. It probably wouldn’t take much to fix it, but it would mean hauling the big ladder out of the garage, and she just hadn’t taken the time to do it.
And there were other things that needed doing too. Enough to fill a hon
ey-do list, which she had never been permitted to actually write down because the implication that Mike wasn’t doing his part around the house made him angry at her. It wasn’t the fact that it was true, but her knowing it was true that he found offensive. Still, every now and then he’d taken on a task without being asked and seen it through to completion. She missed having someone around to at least tackle a small percentage of the things that needed doing around here.
She looked at the broken drainpipe again, and a sense of melancholy filled her. What was that about? But she knew. Even in the daylight hours, it was apparent that most of the houses on her block had their Christmas lights up. She’d seen a few husbands out with their ladders when she’d left the house that morning to meet Victoria and Brian for church. That had been one thing that Mike had managed to do every year, and it had always made her happy.
Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t just seeing the lights perfectly outlining the eaves of her house that had filled her with joy. It was the feeling that maybe Mike put forth that effort because he knew it would please her. Of course, that seemed unlikely given everything else that he’d either done or failed to do. He was probably just trying to look good to the rest of the neighborhood. But still. She missed that feeling, however misguided it may have been, of having him do something for her.
Jarred by the sight of Mike’s Lexus turning onto her street, she quickly brushed away a couple of tears that had dripped down her cheeks without her awareness. Sometimes it felt like all she ever did when she was alone was cry, and she was sick of it. Would that ever be any different?
When she opened the front door, Mike had just eased into the driveway. She stood there watching as he helped Charlie and Ty from their seats, and as they scampered up the walkway. She met them at the top of the porch steps and gave them a big hug as they spoke over each other, telling her all the exciting things they’d been up to for the past two days. It was a blessing, at least, that they loved their time with their dad. Too bad that it had taken a divorce to get him to spend focused time with them.
“You two go on in and get your coats hung up.” She glanced up at Mike, who carried their backpacks and a couple of stuffed animals that looked like they’d been won at some sort of arcade. “Mommy needs to talk to Daddy for a minute.”
Looking pulled-together as usual in designer jeans and a dark gray jacket, Mike ambled up the walk. His signature just-got-a-haircut appearance had always made her wonder how he found the time for frequent barber visits in his oh-so-busy schedule. That was nothing new. He found the time for the things that mattered to him.
She folded her arms and leaned on the pillar at the top of the steps. “You’re late.”
Stopping at the bottom, he gave her his best longsuffering look. “It’s no big deal.”
“I don’t care if it’s no big deal to you. How do you know I don’t have plans with them tonight?”
“Do you?” His dark eyes glimmered with amusement as he started up the steps.
“It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t—”
“So, you don’t then.”
Gritting her teeth, she took a step back. “What matters is that you need to have them back here at the time you say you’re going to.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing’s ‘gotten into’ me. I’m annoyed at your disrespect of my schedule.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry for you, Joy.”
“You’re sorry for me?”
“You’re so rigid. You need to roll with the punches. Take life as it comes.”
“Oh, no.” She raised her palms in defense against his obvious gaslighting. “You don’t get to pin this on me. You’re the one who was an hour and fifteen minutes late getting the kids home.”
“I can’t win.” He set the backpacks and the stuffed animals on the wooden rocking chair just outside the door and turned to face her. “First you were mad that I couldn’t spend Friday night with them. Now you’re mad that I made up for some of that lost time. Make up your mind.”
“Why do you think that whatever works for you is what works, but we’re just expected to ‘roll with the punches.’ That’s why we have a court-mandated parenting plan.”
“Okay, we don’t need to get the lawyers involved. If you’re so upset, just tell me what I can do to fix it.”
“You can’t just fix it. It’s not a broken toaster oven. Not that you ever got around to fixing that either.”
“See, I can’t win with you. Once you’re mad about something, you hold on to it. There’s no way I can ever make it up to you, so what’s the point of even trying.” He flashed that tight-lipped condescending smile that always made her want to hit something, and started for the steps.
“Actually…” She held out a hand to stop him. “There is something you could do.”
He turned to her, firming his jaw like she was keeping him from something important. “What?”
“Well, remember our schedule change?”
He glowered at her, like she was springing something new on him. “What schedule change?”
“Mike. We agreed on this months ago. You don’t have the kids the weekend after next. It’s Victoria’s wedding.”
“Right. The wedding.” A series of emotions ranging from irritation to delight crossed his face before landing on wariness. “So now what do you want from me?”
Ignoring his accusatory tone, she threw out an idea that, if it actually worked, would really be helpful to her. “You could take them mid-week instead. They want to see you, and Victoria and I have so much to do getting ready for the wedding—”
“Whoa. Hold on. Weeknights don’t work for me. You know that.”
“Weekends barely work for you. What’s left?”
The wordless glare he fired at her pretty much confirmed that he knew she was right but he didn’t want to own up to it. “Let me think about it.”
As he strode back to his car, she winced at the headache forming in her temple. Let me think about it. It was his obligation as a parent, not a request for a charitable donation. Why did he seem to see being a parent as a box he could check only when it fit neatly into the rest of his life?
She wanted to scream. Of course, he was right about her holding on to anger, but still. She had every right to expect to be treated with respect.
After transferring the kids’ gear inside, she made an effort not to take her frustrations out on the door with a satisfying slam. Instead, she shut it gently and leaned her back against it.
Glancing at the hooks on the foyer wall where the kid had haphazardly hung their coats, she sighed. Even with all the energy she expended in keeping the house presentable, it never really was. There was always something out of place.
As she reached over to adjust Ty’s little coat so it hung from the neck and not the sleeve, she bumped her purse off the table and the little white bag spilled out. She groaned, then bent to pick it up and when she did, a thought struck her.
Standing upright, she looked into the bag at the sweet little dog that seemed to be looking up at her, begging for a home. For some strange reason, her gut was telling her to follow through on her madcap plan to give this to Kyle.
Her face relaxed into a small smile. Yes. She would give it to him tomorrow when he came to pick up Henry, and trust that he would take it in the spirit in which it was intended. If only to prove to herself that not every man was a complete narcissist.
Kyle couldn’t believe how empty his apartment had felt all weekend without Henry there to keep him company. That big galoot had worked his way into his new owner’s heart, that was for sure. So much so, that Kyle had left Wes to fend for himself at a vender meeting so he could go pick Henry up as early as the vet would release him.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to get there before five.
Even though he trusted that if something was meant to happen between him and Joy, it would work itself out, he’d spent the weekend coming up with a
plan. He’d never been great at getting conversations going with women, so he’d decided to bring along an icebreaker
Remembering how significant her comment about prayer had been to him, he’d gone out on a limb and bought her a prayer journal. He figured that would serve as a thank-you for helping him through that bad experience with Henry, and open the door for him to ask her if she’d like to go for coffee sometime. That way, if she actually did have someone in her life already, or if she simply wasn’t interested, it would be easy enough for both of them to write it off as just a friendly gesture. No harm, no foul.
Then he would just slink away and crawl into a hole.
When he opened the door to the vet’s office, he saw her standing behind the front desk looking just as pretty as he remembered from the other day. Her hair was a little different today, like she’d had more time and maybe a few more pins at her disposal. It looked nice this way too.
Glancing in his direction, she gave him a quick smile that he hoped was more than just her standard greeting to new arrivals, then went back to explaining some paperwork to a client.
Clutching the bag with the prayer journal in it, he eased toward the counter. He looked around, pleased to see that the place wasn’t too busy. There was a big man holding a tiny chihuahua, and a cat in a carrier that presumably belonged to the woman at the counter. It seemed feasible that Joy might have a minute to talk to him.
As soon as the woman stepped away with her paperwork, Joy looked at him and her smile broadened. “Well, hello. It’s nice to see you arrive under happier circumstances.”
“I’ll second that.” He returned the smile.
“Henry will be thrilled to see you.” She sat down at her computer and typed something, then stood again. “I’ll just go back and get him.”
Watching her slip through the door into the back, his stomach did a nervous flip the likes of which he hadn’t felt since high school. Not even bidding on a job or presenting a design to a client made him this anxious.