Finding Christmas

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Finding Christmas Page 3

by Jeannie Moon


  Recently married to the love of her life, hockey star Jake Killen, Sabrina had hunkered down at her parents’ house for a few days with her daughter to bake and prep for the holiday while Jake was on a road trip. Benson Thanksgivings were chaotic, but the Gervais family brought it to a whole new level.

  The other reason Maggie wanted to see Sabrina was because her longtime friend was the best physical therapist on the East End. If she was going to be here while figuring out the next step, she needed to keep rehabbing, and Bree agreed to take her on.

  The big front porch of the house on the water was decorated with tall corn stalks, big orange pumpkins and colorful mums. The last of the orange and red leaves were falling off the maple trees in front of the house, and Maggie thought about all the autumn days spent picking apples off the tree in the yard, playing in the leaves, and anticipating the holidays to come.

  The front door flew open and Charlie, Bree and Jake’s daughter, ran down the steps and into her waiting arms. “Aunt Maggie!”

  Charlie was the best. Her daddy, Jake, had no idea she existed until a year ago. Bree, distraught after she and Jake broke up, never told him she was pregnant. Stupid on her part, but they were finally together.

  “You are so big! And so beautiful. Oh my, God!” Maggie held her close. “Stop growing up.”

  “You shouldn’t have stayed away so long,” Charlie whispered. “We love you.”

  For the first time since she’d been home, Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. Charlie said what everyone had been thinking and Maggie knew she was right. She was loved. Maggie cried not only for the friends and family she’d pushed away, but for herself, for all she’d missed.

  Holding onto the little girl, she looked up and over Charlie’s dark head and saw Bree standing in the front doorway. Folding her arms against the chill in the late November air, her friend was simultaneously laughing and crying.

  The sentiments seemed to be going around.

  Taking Charlie’s hand, Maggie walked her back to her mother. “I guess I’m in trouble, huh?”

  Bree was forcing down the emotion, trying to keep her wits about her, but when it got to be too much, she gave in. “Oh, come here.”

  The two friends embraced and held, and once again, like it was with her sisters and brother, Maggie felt like another part of her world had brightened again.

  Finally, when they let go of each other, Bree looked her up and down.

  “You look good and you’re moving really well. How is your strength?”

  “Upper body is good. Lower half has been a challenge.”

  “Is that Maggie Benson?” Over Sabrina’s shoulder, she saw Enza Gervais coming down the hall. A pint-sized powerhouse, Mrs. Gervais was all about her family, her neighbors, and her community.

  After another firm hug, Mrs. G. slapped her arm. “What were you thinking staying away so long? You broke your mother’s heart.”

  “I know, I know. But I’m back now and in a few weeks she’ll be sick of me.”

  “That will never happen.” Mrs. G. was right. It wouldn’t. “Come with me, Charlotte. Let the girls talk.”

  Once they slipped into the kitchen down the hall, Maggie turned to Bree. “I missed this. No one tells me off like your mother. And Charlie, my gosh. What a little lady.”

  Bree laughed, full and happy. “Mom does it best. But Charlie, a lady? You should see her play hockey. She’s no lady.” Waving her hand, she headed down a long hall. “Dad has an exam room off his office. Let’s have a look at you.”

  Maggie froze. The thought of showing Sabrina her leg, her scars, and letting her do an evaluation forced Maggie into new territory. It was revealing, and it was forcing her one step closer to accepting what happened. Frankly, it scared her to death. “Oh jeez, Bree. You’re not even letting me adjust to this, are you?”

  “Adjust to what? You need me. I’m going to help.” Touching her shoulder, Sabrina smiled. “It’s going to be fine.”

  Right. Fine. That’s what they said right after that last skin graft. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Slipping off Maggie’s sweats, Bree got her first good look at the scars and damage to Maggie’s leg. She stood back, asking her to straighten and bend, lift and hold. Then Sabrina took off the prosthetic and saw where they amputated.

  “Well, and I don’t mean to minimize this, I’ve seen worse. Your skin looks good, and your muscle tone is really quite extraordinary. The tat is a nice touch.” Bree winked at her. “You’ve worked really hard. What’s your goal with the additional rehab?”

  “I want to run again. Be more agile and flexible. I don’t know. I want to feel more like me.”

  Her friend smiled. Growing up, the two of them couldn’t have been more different. Both were stellar students, but Bree was a musician, a science geek, and ended up being valedictorian of her class, while Maggie was a popular jock and a student leader.

  “Lie back.”

  Knowing the drill, Maggie did as she was asked, relaxing into the evaluation. She knew this could hurt, and she hated that Bree had to see her like this. “So how is the tribe?”

  “They’re good,” Bree responded, while testing Maggie’s mobility. “Everyone is happy, making plans. Cass just got married.”

  “And you?” Maggie wondered. “Any baby hockey players on the way?”

  “Not that I know of.” She gripped Maggie’s leg and moved her knee and hip. When Bree raised her leg perpendicular to her body, that’s when Maggie felt her hamstring object.

  “Ow! Yeah, that’s not fun.”

  “Sorry. Your muscles are very tight.” Bree lowered her leg to the table. “Cass should be here soon. We’re going to go out, have dinner, and go wild at karaoke. Want to come?”

  Maggie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen any of the girls who made up Sabrina’s extended family. And by family, they were all ‘related’ by choice. Mrs. G. and her three closest sorority sisters had five daughters between them who became the best of friends. Whenever they were in town, Maggie got to be an honorary member of the group.

  Cass was fun. A college professor, with a flair for the dramatic. Going out with Bree and Cass could be exactly what she needed.

  Exactly what she needed.

  “You know what? As long as you don’t ask me to dance, I’m in.”

  Chapter Three

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  “I HAVE NOT had this much to drink in a really, REALLY long time.” Cass growled as she downed the last of her dirty martini. “I think I’ll have another. It might make me sing better.”

  Maggie chuckled because nothing would help Cass be a better singer. Nothing. There were more than a few sessions of Christmas caroling at the town square when someone thought a dog was howling along with the carolers. It was Cass, singing her little heart out. It was too bad, too. She loved to sing. Loved it, but she had no talent for it.

  Sabrina on the other hand, could hold her own, and so could Maggie. Veterans of several Holly Point High School musicals and the ever-popular concert choir, the two of them would make Mrs. Sundberg proud.

  Hopefully. If they weren’t too drunk.

  “This place is packed. If we make fools of ourselves, the whole town will know it.” Bree smiled as she looked at the crowd, before clinking her beer bottle with Maggie’s. “Our parents will be so proud.”

  “Amen, sister.” Watching the DJ who was running the show, he waved to Bree, who’d chosen some Broadway selection. “You’re up.”

  “Knock ’em dead, honey,” Cass slurred. “She’s gonna knock ’em dead.”

  “She always does. So how have you been, Cass? Bree filled me in about you and Sean.”

  Cass wiggled her left hand. “We’re married. I love him so, sooo much. Oh, I missed an olive.”

  “I heard! I’m happy for you.” God, Cass was going to regret every olive from every dirty martini. She was really drunk.

  “Oh, Sabrina is singing! YAY BREE!!!!” Cass stood, clapping her hands over her head. “Wooooo!


  Bree positioned herself at the mic and waved to the crowd. She was not only the daughter of the town’s beloved pediatrician, but she was the wife of an NHL superstar. This could hit the news.

  Wouldn’t that be fun?

  But there was no worry of embarrassment, as her friend managed the song without any trouble, getting polite applause and rowdy cheers from her friend as she held the last note of the romantic ballad. Maggie went to the bar and ordered another beer, figuring she could nurse it for the rest of the night.

  Leaning her back into the bar, she surveyed the room. It was a mix of young and old, familiar and new faces. As much as she’d visited over the years, the disconnect she felt let her know she hadn’t been around enough, especially recently. It was a good reminder that things changed even if you wanted them to stay the same.

  It would do no good to dwell, though it was all she seemed to be doing. Turning back to her friends, she instead found herself face-to-face, or rather face to chest, with a very handsome basketball coach. He was in possession of two empty glasses and a very sexy grin.

  “I thought that might be you.” His voice was low and deep. Seductive. It made her think about being touched.

  “Sweet Jesus,” she whispered to herself.

  “Everything okay?” He put the glasses on the bar before his big hands settled on her shoulders and for the first time in a while, Maggie welcomed the contact. “Maggie?”

  “Fine.” She tilted her face up and was greeted with another sweet smile and a flash in Will’s blue eyes. “I was startled, that’s all. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Here to make a fool of yourself? If you are, I’ll consider this my lucky day.”

  “Is that so?” She couldn’t control the chuckle that escaped. No doubt it would be a show. The problem was she wasn’t drunk enough to sing in front of a packed house. “What are you doing here?”

  Leaning in so she could hear him over the noise, Maggie could feel his breath against her cheek, smell the fresh, woodsy scent of his skin. She might have lost her breath. Just a little.

  “I was helping Coop behind the bar tonight, but his usual guy just made it in.” He certainly played the part of bartender well, with his worn jeans and fitted gray Henley shirt.

  “No singing on the job?” she joked.

  “Nah,” he whispered. “I like to watch, though.” On its own, there was nothing wrong with what Will just said. Nothing. But couple it with a few drinks, some close contact, and her vivid imagination and those words became very, very dirty.

  What was wrong with her? She was a naval aviator. An officer. Maggie had gone through some of the toughest training in the world, but this one man was turning her brain to mush.

  “Right. Um.” Boy howdy, this guy was sex appeal personified. Maggie had to get her wits about her. “We’re all looking forward to having you join us for Thanksgiving.”

  Will raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “I am, too.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, hesitating. “I was wondering if I could get your help with something.”

  “My help?”

  “You’re a runner, right? I mean, you were… shit.”

  Poor guy was tripping all over himself trying not to offend her. “Take it easy, coach. Yes. I ran track in high school and college. I was mostly middle distance—400 and 800 meters—but I was on a few relay teams. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m working with some aspiring Paralympians. Runners. I’d love for them to meet you.”

  “Paralympians?”

  “Amputees, mostly.”

  Oh, boy. He wanted them to see what a hot mess she was? “I don’t know, Will. I’m still learning to use my blade. I mean, I can move, but I’m not fast, and I’ve never coached.”

  “I understand if you’re not sure, but your presence could be a real morale boost, even if you don’t want to work out with us the first couple of times.” Will was so enthusiastic about the idea, she couldn’t help but be excited along with him. “We’re trying to get something going on Long Island, but it’s slow. I have a group of kids, twelve to fourteen years old, who could use some inspiration.”

  “Inspiration.” Leaning her hip into a bar stool, Maggie pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t feel like she could inspire anyone. “When do you practice?”

  “Sunday mornings. We’re at the junior college field house. Around eight.” His blue eyes were electric—so blue she could look at them all day. Even in the dim light of the bar, Will’s eyes drew her in. This was not fair.

  “I might hate you for this. I’ve gotten used to sleeping late.”

  “That won’t last, you’ll be too restless after a while. But think about the impressionable young minds, the hearts of these kids—” He was really piling it on thick. She had to give him credit for tenaciousness.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake! Knock it off.” Maggie chuckled. “I’ll help you.”

  “Ha! Awesome. Thanks. I’ll let you know when we’re going to practice again.”

  “Here’s your beer, Maggie. It’s on the house.” Cooper Sammis, the owner of the bar and a former classmate, flashed a cheeky grin and pushed the bottle to her side of the bar.

  “What? Don’t be silly.”

  “Vets drink on me, babe.” Cooper was a good guy. That he was still single was both a miracle and a tragedy. He belonged to one of Holly Point’s founding families. “You want a beer, buddy?” he asked Will. “The burger you ordered should be out soon.”

  “No thanks, Coop. I’m driving.”

  “Hey!” Will, Coop, and Maggie trained their eyes at the end of the bar where an older man, whom she didn’t recognize, had parked himself. “Are you the lady pilot everyone’s been talking about?”

  Lady Pilot. Fabulous. Too bad she didn’t wear her pink flight suit.

  Walking in his direction, she tilted her head to get a sense of what was going on. The guy was definitely drunk. She could see his overly relaxed posture, bloodshot eyes, and that brought back what her first C.O. told her about dealing with drunks: they were always unpredictable.

  “I’m Maggie Benson,” she said as she extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Coop had followed her to the end of the bar, and she could feel Will hovering close behind.

  “Behave yourself, Stan,” Coop said with a hint of warning.

  “So did you really crash that jet, Miss Lady Pilot?

  Great. They were going to have that conversation.

  “That’s Lieutenant Lady Pilot, and a surface to air missile had more to do with the plane going into the water than I did,” Maggie said lightly. She was trying to be funny, but she could see Stan wasn’t having it. Great.

  She had been one of the best in the navy. Maggie hadn’t had so much as a hiccup at any time during her career. No one ever expected her to go down. But just like drunks, life was unpredictable.

  “Oh, excuse me. Lieutenant. That rank didn’t help you save a fifty million dollar plane. I guess women drivers are women drivers whatever the vehicle.” He looked at the people around him, chuckling, and obviously enjoying the audience.

  “Have a nice evening, sir,” Maggie stepped back. She wasn’t going to engage this guy. No point. “Make sure you have Coop call you a cab. You don’t want to drive in your condition.”

  “My condition?” he shouted after her. “I bet I could fly that plane better than you, honey. Why they’re letting a woman do a man’s job is beyond me. Your folks should have kept you in your place.”

  Maggie froze and drew a deep breath. Her place? She could take the shots herself, but not her parents. They always told her there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do. Her family was off limits.

  Going back to the man, she made a point to get right in his face. By this point, half the people in the bar had their eyes trained on the confrontation. Maggie didn’t give a shit. “Sir, my place is where I decide it is. You’d do well to keep your opinions to yourself, especially about my famil
y.”

  “Heh. Who’s going to make me, sweetheart? You?”

  Maggie could drop the guy with one elbow to the face or a knee to the balls. It wouldn’t take much, but she would never throw the first punch. And no matter how big an ass this guy was, he didn’t seem like the type who’d take a swipe at a woman in a bar.

  “You know what?” she said, patting the man’s shoulder. “You never know.”

  “The only thing I know about you, Lieutenant, is that you probably screwed your way into the cockpit. How many admirals did you sleep with the get through flight school?” He took a long pull on his beer and smiled, baring a dingy set of yellow teeth. “I’m guessing no one wants you now that you’re missing a leg. No one is interested in doing a cripple.”

  A hush dropped over the bar, and Maggie shot one last look at the old bastard, having no way to respond to what he said. It burned way down deep—hurting her on the most basic level. She blinked hard because she was not going to cry. Stan didn’t deserve the satisfaction, so before she lost it, Maggie pushed her way past Will, and out the door of the bar.

  The cold night air slapped her in the face as the reality of what just happened sank in. The man was a nasty excuse for a human, cruel, mean, and Maggie couldn’t let him get to her. She couldn’t.

  Walking away from the bar, she wrapped her arms around herself to shield her body from the sharp winds off the harbor. She left everything inside, her jacket, her purse, her friends… great. That meant she had to go back.

  There was a commotion behind her and when she looked back she saw Stan being pushed up into the passenger side of a pick-up truck by Cooper, who she could see was furious. The driver couldn’t get into his side of the truck fast enough. “Don’t come back here, old man. You can go drink someplace else.”

  Coop stormed back into his bar, the truck pulled away, and she dropped onto the bench that sat in front of the Harbor Deli. Maggie worked here the summer between her junior and senior year of high school, taking orders, stocking shelves and helping customers. She didn’t work a lot, just enough to have some walking around money so she wasn’t constantly asking her parents for cash.

 

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