Will stretched his long legs in front of him. “I may be able to save on materials here and there. Your biggest expenses are the roof, the updated wiring, and the plumbing.”
Mary’s stomach clenched like an alligator’s jaws. “I hadn’t realized there’d be so much to do.”
“Oh, yeah. This old place needs much more than cosmetic work. Roof, wiring, plumbing, replacing rotten wood, replacing windows, new walls, refinishing the hardwood floors, updating the kitchen and bathrooms. Its bones are good, though. Otherwise, I’d tell you to tear it down and start from scratch.”
Maybe she could do one repair at a time. But where to start? “How long will all of this take?”
“Six to eight weeks. You’re going to live here through the renovations?”
“I don’t have another place to go. As long as you leave me one working bathroom and a place to sleep, I’ll manage. Plus, I’ll be at work five days a week.”
Will shrugged. “As long as you can put up with the mess, it makes no difference to me. I’ll need a check for half now to buy the materials. You pay me the rest when I’ve finished the job.”
Mary opened her check book, but couldn’t make her hand write the necessary numbers. It had taken ten years to save enough money. It would take one minute to spend it.
It was an investment, she reminded herself. If she sold the house next year or lived in it until her hair was white and her face wrinkled, she’d get the money back someday.
Mary looked at Will’s now purple fingernails as he gripped his coffee cup. She could probably find someone cheaper, but not better. Hiring a contractor was all about trust and, according to her boss, Will Stewart could be counted on. “Did Mr. Alden have this difficult a time writing the check?”
One corner of Will’s mouth rose in a half-grin. “No, but Charles Alden and I had our share of disagreements. Your boss kept changing his mind about how he wanted his guest house to look, but he didn’t want to pay for the extra work. You’ve been very clear about what you want done in this old place, so I don’t foresee any problems.”
That explained Mr. Alden’s portrayal of Will as the hot-tempered sort. “Your estimate is very close to my maximum budget. There won’t be much left for a contingency fund.”
Will looked over the estimate again. “Tell you what, Miss Thompson. When you’ve got time, I’ll take you over to a place I know that does construction salvage. You’ll probably find a lot of the stuff you need there for a lower cost.”
“That sounds promising.” Mary looked around the shabby dining room and tried to envision it with fresh paint and refinished floors. The change would be worth it. If she did the most important things now, she could paint and furnish the house bit by bit. She took a deep breath, remembered her dream, and wrote the check. “There’s one more thing,” she said as she passed it to Will. “I’ll need to use the kitchen at Christmas time.”
Will’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Couldn’t you go out to eat?”
“Perhaps. But, if possible, I’d rather have the kitchen available.”
Will slipped the check into a pocket of his portfolio and got to his feet. “I’ll see what I can do. The roofers will be here in a few days, depending on the weather, and I’ll be in and out, working as I can.”
Mary led him into the kitchen. She pulled out a drawer and retrieved an extra key to the house. “This will open the back door. Will I see you in a few days?”
Will pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and added Mary’s key to the assortment. “By the time this job is finished, you’ll be sick of seeing me.”
Mary allowed herself a few moments to enjoy his handsome face and masculine build, doubting she’d ever get tired of that view. She shook his calloused hand and closed the door behind him. All she had to do was get through the next few weeks. Then she’d have the home she’d always dreamed of.
CHAPTER THREE
As far as Mary was concerned, hymn singing was the best part of attending church. She especially loved the old songs, the ones she’d sung while growing up at Good Shepherd. Sitting in church alone could be difficult, but if she kept her mind fixed on worshipping the Lord instead of feeling sorry for herself, the service enriched her soul.
The organist played A Mighty Fortress is our God for the postlude and Mary’s heart soared as she made her way toward the exit. There was something special about that song. How many times had Mary taken shelter within God’s fortress, knowing she was strengthened and protected there?
A friendly male voice called to her from behind. “Morning, Mary. How are you today?”
Mary turned and saw Russell Lambert, the sixty-something realtor who’d helped her find her house. “I’m fine, Mr. Lambert. And you?”
“Call me Rusty, please. I haven’t seen you at church for a few weeks. I was beginning to worry.”
“I’ve just been busy. Between fixing up my house and work…”
Rusty’s easy smile put Mary at ease. “I know how it is. My sister and I are thinking about changing the side porch on our house to a sun room. Let me know if your contractor does a good job.”
“I will.”
A slender woman near Rusty’s age joined them. “You will what?” she asked.
Rusty introduced the newcomer. “Mary, this is my sister, Irene Wortham. Mary and I were just talking about renovations and contractors.”
Irene was dressed in a fashionable lady’s suit. Her narrow face and straight hair reminded Mary of an Afghan hound. “Have you started renovations on your place?” Irene asked.
“The roofers came a few days ago. It was amazing how quickly they worked.”
Irene wrinkled her nose. “Why are you doing it right in the middle of the holidays? My daughter and her family are doing the same thing, although I can’t imagine why she picked this time of year to do it. Our Thanksgiving was ruined by not having a usable kitchen. It was like camping inside her house.”
Despite his sister’s complaint, Rusty chuckled good-naturedly. “Irene says she’s not going back for Christmas, but I can’t imagine spending the holiday alone. I might volunteer at the homeless shelter that day. I’m sure they can always use some extra hands.”
“You go right ahead,” Rusty’s sister said. “I don’t have a problem with sleeping late.”
If she was going to entertain one person, why not make it three? “I’m having a small gathering at my house on Christmas afternoon if you’d care to come. There will be some construction going on, but the contractor should be finished with the kitchen by then.”
Rusty’s eyes shone. “That sounds wonderful! I’m sure I’ll be finished at the shelter by noon. I could come by after that. What do you think, Irene?”
Irene looked at her brother and seemed to consider the invitation. “Why not?” she said with a shrug of her bony shoulders. “It beats sitting at home staring at you all day.”
Mary laughed inwardly at Irene’s lukewarm acceptance. “Around one o’clock?”
“Works for me,” Rusty answered. “Thanks again for asking us to join you.” Rusty and Irene joined the line to speak to the minister.
Mary rubbed her cheek as she thought about the upcoming lunch. What would she serve? All the recipes she’d learned at Good Shepherd served fifty people or more. Even if she ran into every lonely person in town, there was no way would she invite that many people.
* * *
Monday morning dawned clear but cold. Mary dashed into the store, anxious to get out of the frigid air. Although she made a habit of arriving at work before anyone else, she’d no more than walked into her office when her phone rang.
Mr. Alden’s tone was curt and officious. “Come to my office, Mary. Right away, please.”
Her stomach jumped at the command, and she took a few deep breaths to lessen her stress. It wasn’t unusual for her boss to summon her. All she had to do was keep the twin demons of worry and anxiety quiet until she found out what he wanted. She walked down the hallway, past the open cubicle whe
re Neil’s desk was located, and paused at Mr. Alden’s secretary’s desk.
Mrs. Stenger had not yet arrived, so Mary forced herself to step through Mr. Alden’s open doorway.
Charles Alden sat behind his walnut desk, dressed in his usual business suit. He had a phone in one hand and motioned for Mary to enter with the other. Mary smoothed her skirt and sat in the leather chair across from him. He made a few notes on a pad of paper, then pushed a button to end the call and looked at her. “What can you tell me about the new cash registers?”
So he’d learned about all the technology problems. Mary cleared her throat. “I made up the training schedule on Friday. Then I learned that everything would have to be delayed because of a software problem.”
“When did you learn that?”
“When I came in on Saturday.”
“Why were you here on your day off?”
Mr. Alden seldom spoke to her in such harsh tones. He was clearly upset, but Mary had learned long ago that honesty really was the best policy. “I wanted to attend one of the training sessions. I can’t help the employees if I don’t know how to work the new cash registers.”
“Can anyone corroborate your story?”
Mr. Alden had never doubted her word before. What had happened to make him question her now? “Neil Jorgenson from the I.T. department told me about the software problems on Saturday. I suppose he could confirm my presence. Also, when I found out the class was cancelled, I checked on the new employees. Several people saw me.”
Mr. Alden frowned and ran a hand through his gray hair. “It’s not your presence at the store that concerns me, it’s this business about the cash registers. Alexis Lange blames you for the delay in implementation.”
An invisible fist punched Mary in the center of her chest. “Me?”
Mr. Alden gazed directly into Mary’s eyes. “Alexis says everything is ready to go, but that you’re not cooperating.”
Mary’s heartbeat quickened. She needed to take in this new information and figure out why Alexis had said something that wasn’t true. But Mr. Alden expected an answer right away. “I’ve done everything Alexis asked me to do. I’ll speak to her today and find out what she needs.”
Mr. Alden’s tone didn’t change, but his scowl relaxed a bit. “Alexis is visiting our branch stores today to assess their readiness for the tech upgrades. You say Neil is working on the software problems?”
“That’s what he told me.”
Mr. Alden pushed back his chair and tossed a pen onto his desk. “I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. Meanwhile, I’d like you to visit our Granite Park store. I received a report about some employees threatening to file claims about unfair work practices. See if you can get to the bottom of it before the problem gets out of hand. I’ll send the report to you in an e-mail. Can you go tomorrow?”
“Of course. I’ll get back to you.”
Mr. Alden dismissed Mary with a curt nod of his head.
Anxiety settled in her gut like a cast iron brick. Had she missed something? Why else would Alexis say what she had?
Neil passed her in the hall. “The boss sent me a text,” he said, straightening his tie. “Any idea what’s going on?”
She didn’t want Neil to be as stunned as she had been, but she also didn’t want to speak for her boss. “I’m sure it’s something about I.T. You’re the expert.”
Neil walked toward Mr. Alden’s door. “Oh,” he said over his shoulder. “I got the e-mail fixed. Should be working fine.”
Mary closed her office door and sank into her chair. Was she in trouble? She had a mortgage based on her employment at Alden’s Department Store and her savings account was nearly empty. If she lost her job now…
Stop it, she commanded herself. If she let herself, she’d slide into her old habit of visualizing the worst possible outcome. She’d proven herself to be a steady, reliable employee, and Mr. Alden had no reason to fire her. Perhaps she should listen to the advice she’d given Neil and not worry about things that hadn’t even happened.
* * *
When Mary arrived home that night, the contractor’s truck and a large dumpster were in her driveway. Will and a teenaged boy were in her kitchen, ripping the sheetrock off the walls.
After the day she’d had at work, this chaos was the last thing she needed. The boy pushed a wheelbarrow down the plywood ramp that covered the back steps. He was tall and gangly with shaggy dark hair. Without making eye contact or otherwise greeting her, he emptied the contents into the dumpster and reentered the kitchen.
Mary felt a small tug on her skirt and looked down to see Robin’s upturned, smiling face. “Hi, Mary. Did you get some hot cocoa?”
Mary returned the girl’s smile. “Hi, Robin. I didn’t see you out here.”
“Me and Daisy have been playing while Daddy and Grant work in your kitchen.” The dog ambled toward Mary, its tail wagging to a lazy beat. It dropped a wet tennis ball at her feet.
Where was Robin’s mother? Instead of sitting down to a healthy dinner, Robin was playing in the chilly darkness.
Will carried a large piece of broken sheetrock to the dumpster and, on his way back, stopped to talk. “Evening, Mary. I bet you’re rethinking your decision to live here during renovations.”
Mary stifled the urge to ask Will about his daughter. Robin wasn’t in danger, and how he provided care wasn’t any of Mary’s business. “Like I said, I don’t have any place else to go. Besides, I thought you were going to be here while I was at work.”
“I’m finishing another job. You said you wanted your kitchen finished by Christmas, so I’ve got to get started.”
Robin wrapped her arms around Will’s leg. “Daddy, I’m hungry.”
Will placed one hand on the crown of Robin’s head. “We’ll get something to eat in about thirty minutes, squirt. Your brother’s hungry too.”
“Do you like apples?” Mary asked the girl.
“Sure. But I don’t like the green ones.”
“I have some in the kitchen. If I can find them.” Mary looked at Will. “Is it okay if she eats an apple?”
“Fine by me,” Will said over his shoulder as he returned to the house.
“Will you be okay out here while I find that apple?” Mary asked.
Robin nodded, picked up Daisy’s ball, and threw it. The dog bounded after her toy, tail still wagging.
Mary entered her once tidy kitchen, dodged the piles of broken sheetrock and insulation, and found the fruit she’d bought the day before. She washed the apple, wrapped it in paper towels, and then filled a bowl with water. “Here you are,” she said as she handed the apple to Robin, “and I brought some water for Daisy.”
The dog, who never seemed to stray far from the girl’s side, sniffed the bowl and then lapped up the water. “So, did you get some hot cocoa?” Robin asked.
“Sorry. I would have bought some, but I didn’t expect to see you again. If you’re going to be helping your dad, then I’ll make sure to have cocoa in the house.”
“Me and Grant always help Daddy. I’ll be here tomorrow night if you want to make the cocoa then.”
“Yeah, but…now, I don’t have a kitchen.”
“Sometimes Daddy makes it in the microwave.”
“I’m willing to try. You want marshmallows too?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How was school today?”
“Okay. Grant walked me home and Daddy picked us up so we could help him with his job.”
No mention of a mother. Maybe there wasn’t one. Empathy rose in Mary’s heart for Robin and her brother. She knew too well how it felt to be motherless.
Robin bit into the apple and kicked the ball for Daisy to chase.
“Would you like to come inside?” Mary asked. “Maybe watch television or something?”
“Sure, but Daddy said I had to stay here so I wouldn’t get hurt.”
“I’ll ask him. Let’s go through the other side so we won’t get in the way.” Daisy followed obedie
ntly as Mary led the girl through the front door. “Mr. Stewart?”
Will turned toward her, a pry bar in one hand and a piece of broken sheetrock in the other. “The only people who call me Mr. Stewart are my children’s teachers. Is Robin causing a problem?”
“Not at all. I only wanted to tell you that I invited her inside. We’ll be upstairs if that’s all right with you.”
Will glanced at Grant who watched with obvious interest and then turned back toward Mary. “If you’re sure…”
Robin ran up the stairs with Daisy at her heels. “She’ll be fine,” Mary said. “Call when you’re ready and I’ll bring her down.” As Mary made her way up the stairs the pounding started again. Maybe she should stay later at work. That way, she’d be out of the way while Will turned her kitchen into bedlam.
She entered her bedroom to find Robin gently touching the bottles and compacts atop her dresser. “Do you like makeup?”
Robin nodded. “I used to play with my grandmother’s, but now it’s all gone.” Daisy found a comfortable spot on the rug and lay down. Robin plopped down next to the dog. “I really like nail polish. See?” She held up her hands, each fingernail painted a different color.
Will’s colorful fingernails made sense now. “Do you paint your dad’s nails too?”
“Uh-huh. I tried to paint his toenails, but he’s really ticklish, so now I stick with his fingers.”
Will Stewart, calendar boy for masculine beauty, let his daughter paint his fingernails. A spot in Mary’s heart warmed at the image of him sitting patiently while Robin practiced on him.
“Can I paint your fingernails?” Robin asked.
Mary looked at her hands. Saving for the house had taken precedence over visits to nail salons, so Mary had settled for short, clean, unpainted nails. “Let me think about it,” she told Robin. “I haven’t painted my nails since I was sixteen years old.”
* * *
The employee grievances at the Granite Park location had turned out to be no more than complaints about long hours without breaks and charges of favoritism by some supervisors. Mary had listened until her ears felt numb, met with the supervisors to generate solutions, and promised to meet with the employees’ representative the following Tuesday to make sure the conditions had improved. By the time she drove home, her shoulders ached and her head throbbed. Since it was not yet four o’clock, she’d have an hour of undisturbed peace before Will showed up with his sledge hammer.
The Last Lonely Christmas Page 3