by Amanda Tru
“Mommy?” he said through a yawn.
“Yes, baby?”
“When are we getting our tree?”
Ugh. The tree.
What was wrong with her? She had always loved picking out Christmas trees. Of course, that had been before Mike had shanghaied the joy right out of the season. Thankfully, the kids didn’t seem to be making the connection between Christmas and Daddy’s leaving, so she needed to do her best to keep things normal for them.
“Maybe this weekend.” She smiled at his sleepy little face. “How does that sound?”
“Good.” He closed his eyes, seemingly content with the answer even though she knew he didn’t really have a concept of how many days away that was.
She turned off his Toy Story lamp and leaned over to kiss his soft cheek, then crept quietly to the door. After taking one more look at his tranquil form under his blankets, she started down the hall.
One good thing that had come of Mike’s no longer being there was that it had freed up the small bedroom at the front of the house that had once been his office so the kids could each have their own room. The part of the office that had been a craft room had been easy enough to transfer over to the master bedroom, now that she didn’t have to share that space either. She had been very intentional about turning her room into a sanctuary so she wouldn’t feel depressed or lonely in there.
A little groan slipped out as she sank onto her bed, remembering her promise about the tree. Just the thought of digging all the lights and decorations out of storage made her want to crawl under her comforter and not come out until spring.
A buzzing noise pulled her from her thoughts, and she twisted to grab her phone from where she’d tossed it on the bed. It was probably a text from Victoria reminding her of some wedding task that she’d forgotten to put on her list.
When she looked at the screen, she groaned again. Mike.
She laid back, holding the phone directly over her face so she could read what he’d texted.
Charlie left her snow boots at my place. I’ll bring them by.
Great. She couldn’t wait to see him again.
She sat up, stretching to put the phone on the bedside table, and something caught her eye. The prayer journal that she’d left sitting next to her lamp. She picked it up and ran her hand over the soft lavender faux leather cover and across the words “Prayer Journal” that were embossed on the front. She smiled at the thought of Kyle choosing it for her.
Maybe he was onto something. Journaling might be really good for her, even if her reasons for doing it would be different than what he assumed. She wasn’t the praying type, as she’d clearly unintentionally led him to believe. But writing down her thoughts and feelings might help her sort through some things and maybe find some peace.
She paged through the book. It had a nice comforting feel to it, with an organization that appealed to her. There was a place to write your prayers, then a place to follow up with the results of those prayers. Maybe she could do a sort of variation on that. Write out all her problems and see if anything happened.
She took a pen out of the drawer of her bedside table, then leaned back against her pillows and thought for a moment. Where should she even start? Then she remembered hearing that a good way to journal was to set a timer and just free write for five minutes. Something about getting the juices flowing. That made sense.
She set the timer on her phone and started to write.
The following Saturday, Joy stood at a table in the middle of the gymnasium of a local high school, encouraging passersby to guess the number of dog biscuits in an aquarium for a chance to win a free dog or cat grooming. Victoria stood next to her, keeping an eye on Ty and Charlie in the bounce house across the walkway.
“I’ve been writing every night before bed.” Since they’d both been so busy all week, Joy hadn’t had an opportunity until now to tell her about her foray into journaling. “I can’t believe how good it feels to just get it all out.”
“The best part is that Kyle gave it to you.” Victoria got that starry-eyed look that Joy recognized from her sister’s man-crazy days. The look she now generally reserved for conversations about her fiancé.
“I think you’re missing the point.” Joy smiled at a woman who had just dropped her dog-biscuit guess into the box Becky had decorated to look like a doghouse. “It’s helping me really understand how I feel about things.” She slipped her a cat-eyed look. “And one of the things I discovered was about you.”
“Me?” Whatever stars remained in Victoria’s eyes burned out in a supernova of wariness.
“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this, but…” Folding her arms, Joy leaned a hip against the table. “Why did you seat me next to Brian’s egotistical cousin?”
“Oh.” Victoria let out an innocent little titter. “That.”
“Yes. You know he’s one of those men who sees every ‘available’ woman as an object to be conquered.”
“True. Hard to believe he could be related to someone as gentlemanly as my Brian.”
Joy shuddered. “Remember at that picnic when he tried to tie my ankle to his for the three-legged race?”
Victoria laughed. “I forgot about that. Believe me, I don’t want that to happen to you at our wedding.”
“Don’t tell me you’re having a three-legged race at your wedding?”
“No, goofball.” Her voice turned sing-songy. “But there will be dancing.”
“Ugh.” The thought of lecherous Lance putting his hands on her made her skin actually crawl. “I swear if he asks me to dance, I’m going to hide in the ladies’ room.”
“And miss my reception?”
“What if I wear my wedding ring?”
“I don’t think it will be enough of a deterrent. What you need is a date.”
“Uh-huh.” Joy folded her arms. “Just what I thought. This is just a clever tactic to try to convince me to bring a date to your wedding.”
“It’s not too late, you know. You can bring a plus-one.”
“You are incorrigible.” Drawing her gaze from Victoria, something caught her eye through the crowd. Was she imagining things? The blood instantly drained from her face.
Victoria must have noticed her ghostly pallor. “What?”
“That’s him. Don’t look.”
“Him?” Her face lit up again. “You mean Kyle? The journal guy? Where?” Looking into the crowd, she craned her neck.
“I said don’t look.”
“Well, tell me what he looks like, and I promise to be more subtle.”
Joy put her hand on her chest in an attempt to still her fluttering heart. “Just pretend you’re a talent scout for The Next Hot Male Model and you’ll spot him for sure.”
Victoria casually scanned the crowd, then let out a tiny gasp. “Bingo! Hello, tall, dark and handsome.”
Joy batted her arm. “Do I need to tell Brian on you?”
“Hey, you’re the one who hired me as a talent scout. I’m just doing my job.” She grabbed Joy’s wrist. “Don’t look now, but Mr. Next Hot Model is headed our way.”
All the blood that had rushed from Joy’s face made a quick trek back, bringing along reinforcements. Terrific. That pretty much eliminated the option of playing it cool. She busied herself with a couple who were showing an interest in the drawing, while remaining very much aware of the hottie approaching in her peripheral vision.
In a moment, he was standing in front of their table, with his hands in the pockets of his casual khaki jacket and his dark hair just a little tousled. He waited politely while she over-explained the details of the drawing to the young couple then turned her nonchalant gaze his way.
“Kyle.” Doing her best not to look like her radar had scoped him out from halfway across a packed gymnasium, she feigned surprise. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He smiled that smile that was even more captivating than she remembered.
Not knowing what else to say, she blurted out, “This is my sister, Victoria.�
�
“So, you’re Kyle.” Victoria turned on her signature charm. “I’ve heard so much abou—”
Joy kicked her under the table.
“—out you.” She tossed Joy an irritated gaze.
“What are you doing here?” Joy wanted to kick herself for not being able to control the quiver in her voice.
Kyle just shrugged, looking as sweet and kind as he always had in her admittedly limited experience with him. “I saw the brochure the other day at your office. I just figured if I’m getting a tree, I should buy something for Henry so I’ll have something to put under it.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. I—”
“Mommy!”
Apparently, both Joy and Victoria had been so caught up in this surprise encounter that they’d failed to notice the kids disembarking from the bounce house. Victoria snapped into action and met them as they bounced their way toward the table.
“Can we get our faces painted now?” Charlie implored.
“Sure, sweetie. If Aunt Vic doesn’t mind taking you.”
“I don’t mind.” Victoria took them each by the hand.
“But first, say hello to Mr. Montgomery.” Joy nodded toward Kyle. “He owns one of the dogs we take care of at Mommy’s work.” She looked at Kyle. “These are my kids, Charlotte and Ty.”
The kids gave him a fairly distracted but not entirely discourteous greeting while Kyle lifted a friendly wave.
“Okay, let’s go get our faces painted,” Victoria said. “And then what do you say to some corndogs?”
The kids cheered at the suggestion and Victoria gave Joy a not-so-subtle look as she started to lead them away.
Ty looked up at Kyle as he lagged behind his sister and aunt. “You’re so lucky you have a dog.”
As the three of them disappeared into the crowd, Kyle gave Joy a curious look. “You mean to tell me that you work in a vet’s office, but you don’t have a dog?”
“I have two kids. That’s all I can handle. Maybe when they’re old enough to actually take some responsibility, I’ll consider getting them a dog.” Resisting the urge to fan her toasty-warm face, she went for a change of subject. “I started using the journal you gave me.”
“Oh, I’m glad to hear that.” He looked genuinely pleased. “I wasn’t sure if it would be up your alley.”
“You know, I didn’t think it would be. I’ve never journaled. And I don’t really…” She stopped, just short of giving him her full disclosure. I don’t really pray. At all. “I mean, I’m not that good about getting my thoughts out. But it’s helping. I’ve actually learned a few things about myself. So, thank you again.”
He nodded, looking at her like maybe he could read her a little better than she might be comfortable with.
She straightened a stack of fliers they’d printed up to advertise the clinic. “I’m hoping it will help me get through the Christmas season.”
Had she really just admitted that? The words had just tumbled out of her mouth without her consent.
“Get through it?” His forehead creased with concern, as if her brutal honesty hadn’t been unbefitting of their strictly professional relationship. “Is Christmas hard for you?”
“It is now.” She hesitated, but her mouth seemed to have hijacked the control panel of her brain. “My husband left me about a year ago.”
No…!
Staring down at her feet, she bit down hard on her lower lip, a tactic she really should have employed thirty seconds earlier, before she had completely surrendered all semblance of professionalism.
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
The warmth in his voice drew her eyes to his. He was looking at her, not with the confusion or discomfort that she expected, but with genuine sympathy that put her at ease.
“Yeah.” She huffed out an ironic chuckle. “It wasn’t the best timing.”
“Why’d he leave?” He drew back, like he’d caught himself stepping over the wreckage of that boundary she’d just knocked to the ground. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“No. It’s all right. I mean, that’s what everyone wants to know. I appreciate that you actually asked, to tell you the truth.” She was doing what Mike would call babbling now, but she suddenly didn’t care. It wasn’t like she was out to impress this guy, so what did she have to lose? “Who knows what the deep-down reason was, but he had gotten involved with someone else.”
He winced. “That’s horrible. But you’re right, that’s not the reason. That’s just a thing that people do to avoid facing their real problems.”
“Yes.” A wave of energy that always accompanied the feeling of being truly understood filled her, and she stood a little straighter. “Anyway, I haven’t even rustled up the energy to get a tree yet. And I should because I need to make things normal for my kids, you know?”
He nodded. “It sounds like you’re a good mom.”
A dumb grin tugged at her cheeks. That was such a simple statement, but she hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear it. It hit the very core of a theme that had emerged from her journaling. That she wasn’t a good enough mom.
Swallowing back a lump of gratitude and sorrow, she continued. “And to be honest, part of what’s stopping me is just thinking about what a big job it’s going to be. I’ve always had Mike to tie it to the top of the car and put it in the stand.” She brushed away that concern with her hand. “I know I can do it. It’s just that I’m not looking forward to that.”
“Well, I have an idea.” He flashed a smile that could probably convince her of his idea’s validity no matter what he intended to say next. “It just happens that I was going to stop on my way home to get my tree. Why don’t I go do my shopping and meet you back here when you’re finished? Then we can go to the tree lot together.”
She stared at him. Was he serious?
“That way,” he went on, “I could tie your tree to your car. And if you want, I could even follow you home and carry it into your house for you.” Glancing upward, he chuckled. “That didn’t sound right. I mean, if you’d be comfortable with that.”
She let out a laugh. “You’d do that for me?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He gave her a little bow. “What time do you finish here?”
After spending a fun, stress-free hour at the tree lot, whatever trepidation Joy might have had about Kyle being either a player or a stalker had been put to rest. He had been the perfect gentleman, picking out his own little Norway spruce, then waiting patiently while she and Victoria guided the kids through several perfect-tree options. He’d joined in the conversation but hadn’t intruded. Then, as promised, he had expertly tied their gorgeous six-foot noble fir to the top of her minivan.
Now, as she turned off Market Street and into their Ballard neighborhood, she did her best to ignore the looks that Victoria had been throwing her way since they’d left the tree lot.
“You might as well say it.” A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed to Joy that the kids were totally absorbed in The Santa Clause, playing on their backseat DVD screen.
“Say what?” Victoria put on that well-worn innocent-little-sister air of hers.
Joy sighed. “That you think this means that Kyle is interested in me.” She kept her voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear.
“Hey, I’m not saying anything.” Victoria pulled down her sun visor and dabbed at her lips. “No point in wasting my breath stating the obvious.”
Joy gave her a sideways look. “I’m not asking him to be my date for your wedding.”
“Fine.” She flipped up the visor. “If you’d rather spend the afternoon hiding from lewd Lance than enjoying the company of that fine man who’s following us home to help you with your Christmas tree, then that’s your choice.”
Choosing to let that drop as she turned into her driveway, Joy’s heart did a perplexing flutter at the sight of Kyle’s shiny red SUV easing next to the curb in front of her house. As she shut off the car, she caught Victori
a’s arm. “Don’t make a big deal out of this, okay?”
The who, me? look that Victoria shot her before exiting the vehicle did nothing to reassure her.
Together, they unbuckled the kids, ignoring their grumbling about their movie screening being cut short. As they piled out of the sliding door, Kyle approached, slipping his gloves back on and seeming to admire how well his knots had held.
“Come on, you guys.” Making a shooing motion to the kids, Victoria took her keys out of her purse. “Let’s go in and get some hot cocoa started.”
Instantly shedding their crankiness at the promise of more sugar, the kids raced toward the house.
Kyle chuckled as he reached up to undo the first knot. “You know, this tree has a nice solid trunk. Nobles make great firewood if you have someone to chop it for you after the holidays.”
She stood back, grateful that he seemed perfectly capable of handling this task on his own. “The man knows his trees.”
“Well, I do work with wood.”
“You do?” She knew he was an architect, but now that she thought about it, that was all she really knew. “You never told me what your new business is.”
“Have you heard of the tiny house movement?”
“Tiny houses?” She almost laughed, but caught herself. “That’s a real thing?”
“Oh, yeah.” He regarded her house as he crossed to the other side of her van. “I’m guessing your place is around, what? Two thousand square feet?”
Following him, she nodded. “I guess so.”
“So tiny houses run from about a hundred up to five hundred square feet.”
“What? People actually live in structures the size of playhouses?”
He chuckled. “They sure do.”
“But, why?”
“Lots of reasons. Cost. Mobility. The desire for a simpler life.”
“So, you design these houses?”
“Yep. My partner, Wes, and I are turning my designs into pre-made kits that people can put together themselves. The whole idea is to create affordable housing.”
She smiled, thinking about Brian. Her future brother-in-law ran an organization that built homes for people in need, and Victoria had taken on the job of decorating. Joy was about a millisecond from saying that the two guys should meet when her good sense kicked in.