by Susan Wiggs
“No, you’re not right,” Maureen said to Eddie. “It’s not just me. Everybody knows this program is in trouble.”
Eddie turned to Daisy. “See what I have to put up with?”
“Where are the three wise men?” Maureen asked. “They’ve missed the past two rehearsals.”
“Ray’s working with them,” Eddie said. “They’ll be fine.”
“And what about Cecil Byrne? Who’s going to work with him?” She sent Daisy a look of desperation. “He’s a nice boy, but he can’t carry a tune in a basket with training wheels.”
“You think that’s going to matter?” Eddie asked.
“We’re here!” The broad double doors of the sanctuary burst open, and in flowed the after-school crowd of little ones. “We’re ready for play practice,” announced one of the girls.
“And play practice is ready for you,” Eddie said. “Come on in and let’s get started.” He touched Maureen’s arm. “I’ve got this. Good to see you, Daisy.”
“You go right ahead with your pictures,” Maureen said, blowing a wisp of hair off her brow. “The kids are cute no matter what.”
“I know what you mean,” Daisy said. “Listen, Maureen, I wanted to let you know I won’t be around for the Christmas Eve performance.”
“Other plans?” asked Maureen.
“Charlie and I are going down to Long Island. We’re spending Christmas Eve with Charlie’s dad’s family.” Daisy had cried when she’d told her parents, but they’d been incredibly understanding.
“Eddie’s parents live on Long Island,” Maureen said, her gaze drawn to him as if by a magnet.
You’ve got it bad, Daisy thought, hiding a smile. “Here are some outtakes from the poster shoot.” Daisy handed over her portfolio. “If you want, we can use something more traditional.”
“I love the one you picked.” Maureen paged through the large pages. “You’re so good,” she said. “This is an impressive portfolio.”
“Other than Charlie, it’s pretty much been my life since high school. I’m glad I found photography. It’s a way to connect with the world.”
Maureen lingered over studies of Daisy’s two best friends, Zach and Sonnet.
“I recognize these two from the library.”
“Sonnet’s my stepsister, doing an internship abroad this year. I miss her a lot. And Zach… It’s Zach Alger. He used to live in Avalon, but he had to move away.”
“I’m familiar with what happened. I always felt sorry for him in that situation.”
“He’s doing all right,” Daisy assured her. “He’s in New Paltz, working and going to school.”
Maureen turned a page, stared at a portrait of Julian Gastineaux. “Oh.”
Her tone of voice said it all. Everyone said “Oh” like that when they saw Julian.
“So this is a cookie exchange.” Eddie stepped into the foyer of the library, which was crowded with people and lined with tables that appeared to be set up for a bake sale.
Maureen greeted him at the entrance. “That’s right. We’re so glad you came to help out.”
“Not familiar with the concept.” He stepped back and regarded Maureen. She had a sprig of holly in her hair, and she was wearing a frilly bib apron covered in little kids’ handprints and embroidered along the hem: To Miss Davenport with love. Most women would be too fashionable to wear the handmade apron, but on Maureen, it looked cute. In fact, he found everything about her cute, but every time he tried to convey his opinion to her, she turned wary. Given what she’d told him about her first love affair, he could understand that—sort of. What he couldn’t understand was her reluctance to give love another shot. He’d never met a woman so afraid of getting her heart broken. He wanted to prove to her that every relationship didn’t have to end like that. He wanted her to believe that some didn’t end at all. Why he wanted to be the one to prove it to her was a matter that had been in his heart ever since that night at the library.
“Come on and check it out,” she said, grabbing his hand and towing him into the big, open room. It appeared to be the quintessential community event. She introduced him to Jane and Charles Bellamy, who had recently returned to Avalon to spend their golden years in the small town. He recognized dozens of other people—Noah and Sophie and their two younger kids. Maureen’s friend Olivia, and Olivia’s sister, Jenny, from the bakery. Bo Crutcher’s mother-in-law, Mrs. Carminucci, with a giant box of cookies. Greg and Nina Bellamy—Nina had been the town mayor at the time of Eddie’s accident, and she’d applauded the judge’s sentence of community service. And in a way, so did Eddie. Without that, he wouldn’t have a place to return to every Christmas, and he’d probably end up doing something crazy.
He noticed Maureen studying him. “It just occurred to me,” he said, “I seem to know more people in Avalon than I do in my own neighborhood in New York.”
“Maybe you’re in the wrong place,” she said, then quickly turned away before he could tell whether or not she was kidding.
At the center of the room was the Christmas tree in all its glory. Kids of all sizes crowded around it, munching on cookies and regarding the lights and decorations with shining eyes. He thought about what Maureen believed about kids and magic and Christmas. She wanted him to get over his holiday hang-ups as much as he wanted her to get over her romantic hang-ups. Maybe they could make a deal.
“We’ve held a cookie exchange every year as a library fund-raiser,” Maureen said. “This year, it matters more than ever.”
“Chin up, Moe.”
“I did the math,” she said, indicating the fund-raising graph on display, “and—short of grand larceny—I just can’t see a way to raise enough money.”
“There’s another way to look at your chart.” He indicated the list of usage and circulation statistics. “If everyone who used the library in the past year would contribute, you’d be in the clear.”
“You’re talking about a lot of people,” Maureen said. “Thousands.”
“I rest my case.”
“That’s not the way it works. In a perfect world, maybe. But the world is not perfect.”
“Man,” said Eddie, “you need to eat more cookies.”
She offered a tremulous smile, one that made him want to hug her close. “I’ll work on my attitude. Today was not a good day,” she admitted. “Our operations manager left with no notice. Got a job in Green Bay.”
“Hey, about those cookies,” Eddie said.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She stood a little straighter, smoothed the colorful apron. “Come take a look.”
He stepped into the main atrium of the building and was assaulted by sweetness. The air was thick with the aroma of home-baked cookies—butter and sugar, cinnamon, chocolate. Everything was displayed on long tables, and volunteers circulated with trays, offering samples—gingerbread angels, lemon bars, chocolate mint patties, pecan balls. Daisy Bellamy was present, taking pictures of the festivities—close-ups of fancy plates loaded with goodies, photos of wide-eyed kids and laughing adults. This was what Christmas was supposed to be, thought Eddie. But all the good spirits in the world were not going to rescue the library.
“I’m dying here, Maureen,” Eddie said. “Do you now how good it smells?”
“Hard to resist, isn’t it?” she said. “The Davenports’ table is this way.”
It had been a hell of a long time since a woman had introduced him to her family. He usually screwed things up with a girl long before the intros were in order. That was the beauty of doing the pageant with Maureen. She was stuck with him, at least until Christmas Eve. So even if he screwed things up with her, he had a few more weeks to make things right.
The Davenport family manned a long table at the back wall of the library. Maureen’s father, Stan, was the silver-haired patriarch in a red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled back. His wife, Hannah, beamed like Mrs. Santa Claus as she passed out samples of nut chewies and iced raisin bars. The sisters—Renée, whom he’d met briefly, and
Janet and Meredith were outgoing and funny, and the brother, Guy, good-natured as his wife, Mindy, bossed him around.
“Try this,” Meredith said. “It’s our grandma’s recipe.”
Eddie bit into a bar cookie crammed with white and dark chocolate. His eyes rolled back in his head. “My God,” he said. “I think that might be the best thing I ever ate. Ever.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started,” said Janet. “Rumball?”
“Thanks, but I stay away from rum,” he said. “How about one of those? What is it?”
“A soft molasses cookie that’ll change your life,” said Mindy.
Eddie tasted one. “If this doesn’t earn you a fortune, nothing will.”
“Here’s hoping.”
“I mean it. These cookies could definitely save the library. Maybe they could save the world.”
“People drag out their best recipes for the cookie exchange,” Janet explained. “It gets pretty competitive.”
Maureen took him aside. “So, what do you think of my whole ‘freakishly functional’ family?”
“I didn’t mean anything bad, calling them that,” Eddie said with a grin. “Kind of the opposite. I haven’t met that many families where everybody gets along.”
“Meaning yours doesn’t?” she asked.
“We’re okay,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
She studied him for a moment, her eyes soft with touching sympathy. “You should do something about it, then,” she told him quietly. “Sooner rather than later.”
He lifted his hand, brushed her cheek. The brief touch lit a blush there. “Don’t hold your breath, Moe.”
“But—”
“We’re all looking forward to knowing you better, Eddie,” said Hannah, sidling over. “Maureen’s told us so much about you.”
“She has? You don’t say.” He was intrigued.
“Whoa, not so fast. You know that’s not so,” Maureen protested, blushing even deeper.
“Nonsense, of course it is.” Hannah turned to beam at Eddie. “You’ve been all she talks about since before Thanksgiving.”
“Shoot me now,” Maureen said to no one in particular.
“With Cupid’s arrow,” Hannah declared, thrusting out a silver tray laden with a dizzying variety of cookies. “Have a nut cake, Eddie.”
“Thanks. Don’t mind if I do.” He savored the tidbit, closing his eyes in ecstasy, pleased with both the cookie and the disclosure from Hannah. “Now, about the things Maureen told you…”
Maureen stood back and watched in dismay as Eddie effortlessly fit himself into her family. His natural charm served him well. They surrounded him in a cocoon of welcome—Hannah, the sisters, the various nieces and nephews. Even Maureen’s dad and brother warmed right up to him. What an ideal setup, she thought. Between Eddie’s charm and her family’s openness, it was a match made in heaven. The only misfit…was her. She simply didn’t feel comfortable around him, for reasons she almost couldn’t bear to face. It was because she was half in love with the man. More than half, probably, and her feelings were getting harder and harder to hide. She had to, though. It was too risky to simply let this…this whatever-it-was-between-them sweep her away.
She regarded her family with both affection and exasperation. Hannah was the ringleader, as always. Maureen’s stepmother was blissfully happy in her marriage, and she firmly believed everyone in the world was meant to find someone.
Furthermore, Hannah saw interfering in her stepchildren’s lives as not just her right, but her duty. “In my younger days, I was a confirmed bachelorette,” she told Eddie, always happy to have someone new to tell her story to. “I didn’t want anything to do with marriage. And kids? Forget it. Then I met this guy.” She beamed at Maureen’s father. “A widower with five young kids. What were the chances?”
“Pretty good,” Maureen’s dad said, “since I’d been stalking you for about a year.” He winked at Eddie. “Seriously, she took a leap of faith. Thought I might be damaged goods, you know, losing my wife all of a sudden. To be honest, we were all damaged. And then Hannah came along, and she rebuilt our family.”
“It’s a work-in-progress,” Hannah said. “Especially you, young lady. I’m glad to see you having a little fun with Eddie. He’s a keeper.”
Maureen’s cheeks flamed. “Don’t you ever get tired of saying things like this? How do you get away with it?” She turned to Eddie. “Sorry about her.”
“Are you kidding? I’m dying to hear more.”
Maureen aimed a pointed glare at Hannah. “She has cookies to sell. And you’re supposed to be circulating and getting people to make huge donations.”
“Hand me a sample platter,” he said, then snaked through the crowd like a skilled waiter. Within minutes, people flocked to him. Women, mainly, Maureen couldn’t help but notice. Nor could she blame them. Eddie had a kind of magnetism that went beyond looks. Photos were snapped, and his smile never faltered. That was the trouble with a guy who could act. You were never sure what was an act and what was genuine. His vociferous claims about the cookies caused a run on Hannah’s table, and they quickly disappeared.
The president of the board approached Eddie, and they talked for a bit. Then Mr. Shannon went to the podium, tapping the microphone to get everyone’s attention. He offered a brief opening address, explaining the dire situation faced by the library. Then he said, “And now, with a short tribute to the library, please welcome Mr. Eddie Haven.”
Eddie went to the podium and adjusted the microphone, offering his trademark smile, all white teeth and blue eyes. “Thanks for the welcome,” he said. “I have to confess, this is my first cookie exchange, and now that I’ve figured out what it is, you may never get rid of me. When I was a kid, we moved around a lot. At the holidays, we played in a different town every night.”
Maureen pictured this, and it made her immeasurably sad. She glanced around the room to see if she was the only one, and was surprised to see an unlikely group of visitors—the Veltry brothers, Jabez and Cecil Byrne. An unexpected friendship had sprung up between them, different as they were. She went to welcome them, offering a flyer about the cookie exchange.
“We didn’t bring any cookies to exchange,” Randy Veltry said, his voice low, as Eddie was still talking.
“They’ll take cash in exchange,” Cecil whispered, pulling out his wallet.
Maureen felt a welling of guilt, wondering if she truly had made a mistake in not complying with Cecil’s grandfather and making him the star of the play. It was done, though, and Cecil was a nice kid who seemed perfectly happy with his role. She only hoped he could convey that to his grandfather.
Jabez was quiet, paying close attention to Eddie. As if feeling her attention on him, he turned and nodded his head in greeting. “Kind of makes you sad, doesn’t it?” he remarked. “You know, the stuff about his family.”
“It does,” she agreed, and studied Jabez. He had fast become one of her favorites, though she didn’t now him well. “How about your family, Jabez?” she asked, trying not to seem nosy.
His face softened, though he kept his eyes on Eddie. “Everyone should be with family at Christmas,” he said. “People who think they want to be alone during the holidays are the ones who need family the most.”
This was Jabez’s way, she’d noticed, saying things that didn’t really reveal much about himself. The way he’d spoken just now, she suspected it was more about Eddie than about Jabez himself. He seemed centered and wise, which was surprising in someone so young. Hannah would say he was an old soul, with that soothing air and quiet certainty, a peaceful quality that seeped into those around him. Worldly cares seemed less important to Jabez than making someone smile.
“But in every town we visited,” Eddie went on, “I could always find a library. It’s a place where a kid’s imagination can take flight, and where a person’s intellectual freedom goes unchallenged. There’s no price you can put on something like that, but there are costs. The library is schedule
d to be shut down the first of the year. The only hope of keeping it open is for every person in this community to contribute. That’s what today is about. That, and cookies. Enjoy, everybody. And when you think about giving this year, think about this library.”
“Yikes, Hannah was right for once,” her sister Janet whispered in Maureen’s ear. “I totally love him.”
Me, too, thought Maureen before she caught herself.
Pulling back from the Cliffs of Insanity, she watched a grown woman bat her eyes at him while selecting a morsel from his tray.
Maureen shook her head. “I wonder what it’s like, being that popular.”
“Ask him,” Janet suggested with a shrug.
“Ask him what?” Meredith joined them.
“I was just thinking how hard it would be to actually be with someone like that,” Maureen admitted, “someone so attractive and popular. When would he have time for anyone else? I’d always feel as if I were in competition with the rest of the world.”
“Are you writing him off because he’s too popular?”
“No, because we’re not a match.”
Someone tugged at her skirt, and she looked down to see one of her youngest patrons, a kindergartner named Toby. “Hello, Ms. Davenport,” he said, regarding her with worshipful eyes. “This is for you.” He offered a cookie slathered with neon-colored frosting and pocked by sprinkles.
“Thank you, Toby.” Maureen gave him a hug. “You have a Merry Christmas, okay?”