Christmas on Mistletoe Lane--Includes a bonus short story

by Annie Rains

  Tom held her gaze for a fraction too long as electricity hummed along his internal circuits. He looked away before his body shorted out.

  “Well,” he said to Aiden when he’d regained control, “I guess you do know all about the story of the first Christmas. It has nothing to do with Santa.”

  “Or Christmas trees either.” Aiden didn’t make eye contact with either Tom or Teri as he unloaded this zinger.

  “No, but we always put angels on top of the tree.”

  “Not always. Last year, there was a star on top of the town tree. And Grandma had a star too.”

  “For the Star of Bethlehem,” Tom said.

  Aiden shrugged and started picking up his cars and putting them back in their storage box.

  “Would you like to have a big tree with an angel on the top?” he asked.

  He got no answer. Which was better than a flat-out no.

  “Okay, so would you mind if your mom and I put up a big tree in the bay window with an angel on the top?”

  “No red stuff on it. Red is evil.”

  “No red. Would gold be okay?”

  He got no response.

  “Okay, so we’re going to get a real tree. Would you like to take a walk with me and your mom up to the Jaycees lot by the Methodist church? They’ve got trees there. You could pick the one you liked best.”

  “Are we going to see the angels?”

  “Well, it’s dark, and I’m sure Golf—”

  “We can go see the angels,” Teri interrupted.

  Tom turned his gaze on Teri. The sheen of tears was gone. In its place was a tiny smile that revealed a dimple in her left cheek that he hadn’t noticed before. Her smile was as good as hot chocolate for warming up his insides. “Golfing for God is kind of a long walk, don’t you think?” he asked.

  “Yes it is, but we’re not going to Golfing for God. We’re going to make a tour of nativity scenes. Every churchyard in town has one on display, and they all have angels. It might take a little while before we get to the Methodist Church and the Jaycees lot. But I warn you, we know only one Christmas carol and you might be sick and tired of hearing ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’ before we’re done.”

  AIDEN SPEAKS

  I don’t like surprises. I don’t like candles. Candles make my head feel funny.

  Dr. Tom surprised me with the candles. I sang “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” thirty-seven times before my head felt better.

  Then we ate dinner. I ate mac and cheese. I like mac and cheese.

  Then me and Mom and Dr. Tom took a walk to see the angels. The big Methodist angel told me I should go to the tree lighting.

  I told Mom about the Methodist angel. She said, “We’ll see.”

  And then Dr. Tom said, “I can take him, if you’re going to be busy.”

  And Mom said, “We’ll see.”

  We went home at ten o’clock. Mom said it was too late to play piano.

  I was mad at Mom. I went to my room.

  She came in twenty-three minutes later and read me the story of “The Emperor’s New Clothes” from the book Andersen’s Fairy Tales. She said the story had an important lesson in it about telling the truth.

  The people in the story were all liars. I don’t like liars. I don’t ever lie.

  I told Mom I wanted to go to the Christmas tree lighting.

  And she looked at me for thirty seconds before she said, “We’ll see.”

  She turned out the light.

  I went to sleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Teri had been responsible for decorating the town tree for the last four years. On the night of the lighting, she was crazy busy. But for the first time, she was also nervous. In fact, the butterflies in Teri’s stomach had gone militant.

  She was worried about the lights because she’d switched out the multicolored ones for plain white. And she’d done that because Tom was bringing Aiden to the lighting ceremony. She couldn’t risk having any red lights on the tree this year.

  Aiden had never wanted to come to the tree lighting before, and Teri had been happy to continue that tradition. But this year Aiden had changed his mind. He wanted to come. He was insistent. And Tom had taken Aiden’s side, which she most definitely resented.

  But then again, how could she resent Tom? For the first time in eons—maybe ever—a man had actually lit candles for her. Every time she thought about Aiden’s reaction, she inwardly cringed.

  Of course, Tom had rolled right along with the punches. There had been a moment when they were singing together when she’d almost felt as if they were a family.

  Which was another reason for the queasiness in the pit of her stomach.

  Tom had upset her equilibrium. She felt as if she were trying to balance while simultaneously walking about three feet off the ground. Tragically, she’d never been any good at gymnastics. A heart-breaking spill inevitably loomed in her future. Not to mention the fact that the members of the Christ Church Ladies’ Auxiliary and the Methodist Altar Guild were sure to notice sooner or later. And since Lillian had stirred up a lot of dislike for Tom, that would be bad for her.

  Oh, good Lord, what was she going to do? Falling for Tom Crawford was easy. He was like an answer to her prayers. No one should be so perfect.

  And yet his kisses were perfect. The way he’d responded to last night’s disaster had been perfect. And then he’d called this morning and offered to take Aiden to McDonald’s for dinner and then bring him to the lighting ceremony later. And that was the perfect solution for managing Aiden.

  Even worse, Aiden wanted to spend the evening with Dr. Tom. Although the allure might have had more to do with McDonald’s fish sandwiches than Tom Crawford himself.

  How could she say no? Aiden’s father had never once offered to take Aiden anywhere. And besides, this year was supposed to be about tailoring Christmas to suit Aiden.

  So she’d instructed Judy to hand Aiden off to Tom this afternoon.

  Still, having Aiden attend the tree lighting was fraught with danger. The Davis High a cappella choir would be singing several secular holiday songs, none of which had any lyrics about angels. Aiden was likely to pipe up at any moment, singing “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” Or, worse yet, he might get upset because someone sang out of key.

  Thank goodness Santa wasn’t making a guest appearance. If Santa had been on tonight’s program, she would have insisted that Aiden stay home.

  As the hour of the lighting approached, her heart and stomach decided to instigate an internal riot. She refused to faint or hurl. That would be so unprofessional.

  She took her place on the steps of city hall right next to Mayor Abernathy and County Executive LaFlore and tried to breathe deeply. Panic would not help. She still had to make sure the tree blazed into glorious light when the time came.

  A group of almost a hundred people had gathered in the town square. Tom and Aiden stood in the front row, each of them wearing goofy, green-and-white-striped stocking hats. How on earth had Tom gotten her son to wear stripes?

  She didn’t know. But they looked like a couple of Santa’s helpers. Not that she’d ever tell Aiden that. Her neck spasmed the moment Mayor Abernathy kicked the ceremonies off by introducing the Davis High choir.

  Here it came. Aiden would misbehave. He would say something terrible.

  The choir launched into a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells” in four-part harmony.

  She kept her gaze trained on Aiden, ready to jump into the fray the moment things unraveled. But nothing happened.

  Aiden made no objection to the singing. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all.

  He stood as still as one of Elbert Rhodes’s fiberglass angels, looking up at the twenty-foot blue spruce that had come all the way from Colorado. Teri glanced up but didn’t see anything amiss. Except, of course, that a star topped the tree instead of an angel. Oh, boy. Please, God, don’t let him object to the tree-topper.

  The choir finished their song
, and Mayor Abernathy stepped to the mic. He welcomed everyone and then introduced Reverend Timothy Lake, who said a short prayer. And then the public school kindergarten class came up to the podium, where a dummy button had been set up.

  The mayor and the kids counted down. “Three, two, one…” The kids pushed the dummy button, and Clay Rhodes, well hidden behind the tree, plugged in the power.

  Thousands of white twinkle lights came on and illuminated swags of gold tinsel. The crowd applauded…for the most part. Teri heard a few voices of dissent.

  The mayor leaned toward Teri. “I don’t remember approving a budget for new lights.”

  “You didn’t. I paid for them myself.”

  The mayor gave her the stink eye.

  “I’m not charging the city for them, so don’t worry.”

  The mayor still looked perturbed, and it occurred to Teri that she’d probably lost this job for the foreseeable future. But it was worth it if Aiden could come to a tree lighting and not misbehave. She looked down at her son. He wasn’t really paying much attention to the tree. He was still looking up. And Tom was smiling one of those I-told-you-so smiles as he gazed right into Teri’s eyes.

  For some reason, the look on his face annoyed her.

  * * *

  “The angel says I need to be here at midnight on Christmas Eve,” Aiden said.

  Tom pulled his gaze away from Teri. “What?”

  “It says I have to be here at midnight. You know, like in the song.”

  “Is the angel up there?” Tom glanced up at the top of the tree. No angel, just a star.

  “It was there. Didn’t you see it? It was the Methodist angel.”

  Tom hunkered down, feeling the pressure on his knee. He tried to look Aiden in the eye, but the boy didn’t like making eye contact. From what he’d read, that was pretty common for kids on the spectrum. Seeing things that weren’t there wasn’t common though. Kids on the spectrum tended to be literal.

  A tiny part of Tom wanted to believe that an angel would appear in the little town of Last Chance at midnight on Christmas Eve, even though believing something like that was insane. He was a doctor and a scientist. That side of him immediately began to wonder whether there was a medical reason for the boy’s visions.

  But Tom, the man, was more than a doctor and scientist. Once he’d been a little boy too. And that little boy, with his strong Catholic faith, had been willing to tell anyone who would listen that his guardian angel had been with him in the darkest days of his illness. He’d never actually seen the angel though. But seeing was not necessary for believing. He’d known the angel was with him.

  “Well,” he said to Aiden, “I guess we’ll have to come back here at midnight on Christmas Eve.”

  Aiden nodded but didn’t make eye contact. “I have to come. The angel said it was important.”

  “What angel?” Teri asked as she joined them.

  Tom stood up and faced her.

  “What’s this about midnight on Christmas Eve?” she asked.

  “The angel,” Aiden said, “it told me I needed to be here at midnight. Like in the song. You think the angels will sing for me?”

  “Maybe,” Tom said, even though Teri was giving him a deeply worried look that edged on annoyance. He’d definitely overstepped a boundary here. But what else could he say? He wasn’t going to disabuse Aiden’s faith in angels. He doubted he would succeed even if he tried.

  * * *

  Good grief, Tom was encouraging Aiden’s angel fantasy. And as much as she was overjoyed that Aiden had behaved, she couldn’t let this go on any longer.

  “Aiden, there is no angel,” she said.

  Her son looked at her. “You’re a liar,” he said. “I don’t like liars. I want to go home now.” He turned and headed down Chancelor Street toward home.

  “Aiden, stop,” she said, chasing after him. She got a few steps before Tom grabbed her by the arm.

  “Teri, why on earth did you say that?”

  “What?”

  “About the angel.”

  “Because the angel isn’t real. If he comes out here at midnight, he’s going to be disappointed. It’s not like with Santa. I mean, I can buy presents and fill stockings. But how can I possibly make an angel appear at midnight?”

  “You can’t. You just have to have faith.”

  Teri had no answer for this. So she pulled her arm out of his grasp and followed Aiden.

  Tom followed her.

  When they got home, Teri unlocked the door for Aiden, but then turned to face Tom.

  Her emotions reeled. She was so angry with him that her hands shook.

  “You don’t know me or my son,” she said.

  “Look, Teri, I—”

  “No, Tom, you’ve had dinner with us a couple of times. You bribed Aiden with McDonald’s. But you don’t live with him day to day. So you don’t understand. If he goes to the town square at midnight he’s going to be disappointed. Honestly—” Her voice broke. “It’s hard enough with my family banishing me. I just need to have a reasonably calm and peaceful holiday. That’s all I want. A calm holiday that Aiden can enjoy on some level. Going on a wild goose chase after angels doesn’t sound like a calm and peaceful holiday to me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Look, Tom, things are happening way too fast. I think we need to back off a little bit, you know? And I’m just not sure that encouraging Aiden about this angel is healthy.”

  “Okay. I understand about you and me. It is happening fast. But the truth is, I’m deeply attracted to you.”

  Teri’s face heated. She was attracted to him. The wild, crazy, lonely woman inside wanted to throw open her door and let the man in. But she couldn’t. She was Aiden’s mother first. She had to protect her boy. “I’m sorry, Tom, really I am. Good night.” She tried to close the door on him, but he leaned in, blocking the jamb.

  “Teri, I understand why you need some time and space. I do. And I know you don’t think I have the right to give you advice about Aiden. But I want you to think about letting Aiden go to the village green at midnight on Christmas Eve. It could be like the way you take him to Golfing for God instead of church on Sunday. Going to the green could be a substitute for midnight mass.”

  “And what if nothing happens? What if the angel abandons him?”

  “That’s generally not what angels do.”

  “And what, you’re an angel expert?”

  “No, but—”

  “Good night, Tom.” She closed the door firmly in his face.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tom had plenty to occupy his time over the next week. He worked overtime at the clinic on digitizing the medical records. It was a thankless job, especially since Dana, his assistant and the woman who worked with the records, was angry with him. Lillian Bray had definitely done some damage to his reputation.

  Tom also introduced himself to Father Weiss at Saint Mary’s Catholic Church, bought some items for his new apartment, finished his Christmas shopping, and mailed off a package of gifts to his mother, sister, and nephew in Framingham.

  But being busy hadn’t done one thing to drive Teri Summers from the back of his brain. She’d settled in there, like the snow on the Berkshires in late November. She wasn’t going anywhere for a long, long time.

  If she hadn’t been a florist, he might have bought her a big bouquet of roses with an apology or something, not that he felt the need to apologize for anything. But giving flowers to a florist seemed kind of dumb. And as much as he wanted to bypass mass tomorrow and run into Teri at Golfing for God, that would be just a bit too much like stalking her or something.

  No. He needed another excuse to bump into her. So he started buying lunch at the Kountry Kitchen. The café sat right in the middle of downtown Last Chance, across the street and one block north of Last Chance Bloomers. Flo, the waitress at the Kitchen, gave him less than friendly service, but he kept coming back every day, just so he could walk past Teri’s shop every
noontime.

  She was in there. He knew this because he always stopped and looked in the window. He’d done that six days in a row. And she was still letting his calls go to voice mail.

  This daily routine felt distinctly adolescent. Noontime was, without question, the best time of the day because he’d catch a glimpse of her. But he was getting nowhere fast.

  A week after the tree lighting, he was sitting in the Kountry Kitchen picking at his barbecue sandwich when a woman with blond hair, brown eyes, and a voluptuous build slipped into the booth’s facing bench. “Hey,” she said, “I’m Savannah Randall. I need to have a word with you.”

  Tom tensed. Here it came, someone else who wanted to bawl him out about Mrs. Bray or explain to him how things worked in this town. The whole Lillian Bray situation, overlaid with his frustration over Teri, had left him feeling like a failure. He’d come here to serve these people. But they didn’t want him here.

  He forced a phony bedside smile. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Randall?”

  “Not one blessed thing, Doc. It’s what I can do for you.” She turned over her shoulder and called to the waitress. “Flo, can I have a Diet Coke?”

  Flo gave Savannah a hard look and turned away, ignoring Mrs. Randall the way she frequently ignored Tom.

  Mrs. Randall tossed her blond hair back over her shoulder. “Florreta, you hear me. Don’t you ignore me. And don’t you give me that look. Lillian went up to see a doctor in Columbia yesterday. And you know what? She’s got arthritis in her knees and the doc’s put her on some pills that actually work. Everyone in this town knows Doc Cooper gave her sugar pills. How on earth were sugar pills supposed to help her?”

  Savannah turned back toward Tom with a grin. “Don’t you worry, hon, folks will come around. In fact, I heard that Lillian’s husband is grateful to you for insisting that she go see a specialist.”

  A moment later, Flo came back with Savannah’s Diet Coke. “Is what you said true?”

  “It is. And y’all should quit talking trash about the new doc. I heard he graduated at the top of his medical class and could have been a surgeon but decided on family medicine instead.”