by Leah Atwood
Dr. Akers shook his head. “That’s generous of you, Michael, but she’s going to need help you can’t give her.”
Denise squeezed Michael’s hand. “What am I going to do?”
He thought again. It wouldn’t do for Denise to get worked up. She needed to focus on healing, not on feeling helpless. He’d been there for her when no one else had. He wouldn’t let her down. “Can’t I hire someone to stay with her while I run the shop? Maybe someone who can tend to her needs. I can handle meals and medical appointments. Arrange for therapy.” He patted Denise on the shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”
The doctor apologized. “I’m sorry, but that won’t do.” He glanced at Serena. “If someone can’t be with you, a lady, or medical professional – 24/7 – then as your doctor, I have no choice but the inpatient rehab. I promise you’ll receive excellent care. It’s not uncommon for a patient without local family to have to take this course of treatment.”
“I understand.” A tear slid down Denise’s cheek. “It’s just that,” she paused and swallowed, “my Nicholas passed there.”
Denise looked so frail and small in the hospital bed. The pain of the fall, the surgery, the cast – none of that had conquered her. But the news that she couldn’t go home and would have to recover where her husband of thirty-five years had died was crushing her.
“I’ll stay.” Serena’s voice was firm. She stepped closer to the bed and looked at the doctor. “What do we need to do?”
Michael couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you sure? What about your work?”
Serena nodded at her mom and then met his gaze. “I’m sure.”
Chapter Two
Serena walked up the steps to her childhood home beside Michael as he pushed her mother up the ramp he’d installed that afternoon. The smile on her mother’s face as he rolled her onto the porch was worth all the effort of the day.
Tilting her head back, Serena looked up at the face of the house. White with green shutters and a gray porch floor. Red bricks framed the wide steps. Some things were classic and shouldn’t be changed. The two-story wooden home had been built by her great-great grandfather. Love and a lot of money had kept the house with a wrap-around porch from falling into disrepair.
To Serena it was home. The place of memories and fun. Her father’s promised place of refuge for her. He’d often said, “Forever and always, this is your home.” Only forever hadn’t happened. And always had ended. Five years later she still missed him as much as the day he’d died. The house stood as a reminder that he had provided for his wife and daughter. She was grateful.
“Mom, would you like to sit on the porch for a few minutes? I can bring you a throw to put across your lap. It will take a few minutes to set up the living room for your chair.”
Michael spun the chair and pointed her mom toward the rose garden. “How’s this?”
“Lovely.” Her mother wrung her hands together. “The only thing missing is the mobility to get down there and cut those three roses.”
Serena was thrilled to see her mother’s excitement. “I can do that later, if you’ll watch from the porch and tell me what to do. But only if you’ll trust me with your pruners.”
Michael set the brake on her wheelchair. “Why don’t you leave them there and come out every day to enjoy them?”
“Well, aren’t you a smart one?” Her mother covered Michael’s hand where it rested on her shoulder. “You know I’m onto your ways of keeping me active.”
Michael walked by her mom on the way to his truck. “I need you at the shop. We’ll never get through the season without our source of Christmas cheer. And everyone knows you don’t let anyone touch your roses.”
Her mother laughed. “As long as we’re all clear on that.”
Serena unlocked the door with the key she hadn’t used in five years. She stepped into the wide foyer and looked around. Nothing had changed. The grandmother clock stood on the wall facing her. Its round face on top of the body that swooped down and then out in the fashion of round hips had always been a favorite of Serena’s. It reminded her of her own grandmother – cozy and cheerful. It chimed the half hour as she put her purse on the table near the door. She dropped her keys in the handmade wooden bowl she’d given her mother on their last Caribbean cruise.
A quick perusal of the living room showed that Michael hadn’t only worked on the ramp. Her mother’s chair had been moved closer to the couch to make a path for the wheelchair.
“I hope you don’t mind. I knew you’d have your hands full when we got here. I went ahead and moved a couple of things around to make it easier.”
Michael stood in the doorway to the living room with her mother’s suitcase in hand. More memories. Senior prom when he’d stood there, nervous and tugging at his collar, holding a wrist corsage that had perfectly matched the peacock blue of her dress. She blinked away the past.
“Thank you.” She grabbed the crocheted throw from the back of her mother’s chair. “You can leave her bag at the foot of the stairs. I’ll deal with it later.”
As she passed him in the wide doorway, he reached out a hand and caught her by the elbow. The shock of his touch on her skin surprised her. She looked up into his face. At five-eleven he was only four inches taller than her. The difference was lessened by her heels. She’d always liked that she was able to look into his eyes without craning her neck backward. Those compassionate eyes were just as she remembered. Soft, brown, and caring.
How many times had they stood in the spot and shared a good-night kiss before he went home after a fun date? Did he sense the past crowding into his mind, too?
“Serena, I know this is uncomfortable for you, but I thought you needed to be here for Denise. That’s why I had the hospital call you. She would never have told you the extent of her injuries.”
“Thank you for making sure I knew. You’re right. She’s a determined lady.”
“She had already floated the idea of telling you she was too tired from the season to come to Atlanta on Christmas Day.”
“I never would have suspected, either. She is good at hiding what’s going on at the shop. I’m going to get one of her friends to sit with her tomorrow afternoon, so I can come check everything out. We’ll have to come up with a game plan for the rest of the season.”
“I have everything under control at the store. You can stay here and care for Denise.”
He was too close. She hadn’t dated anyone seriously since she’d moved to Atlanta. No one stepped into her personal space these days. Only hugs from her mother or dear friends at church kept her from complete isolation.
But no one ever made her as aware as Michael had. She took a step back, and he dropped his hand.
“I am here to care for Mom, but I need to see the shop firsthand. I’ve been trying to get her to send me the books so I can do them for her, but she’s refused. Now is the best opportunity I’ll have to see what’s really happening.”
“We’re not as busy as we used to be, but the recession hit everyone hard. I manage the part-time help and do the heavy lifting. I cut back on our seasonal help this year. Denise didn’t want me to, but I know the sales aren’t what they were. She didn’t want the customer service to suffer, but I promised to see to that. She handles the books and does the ordering. And she still makes the handmade items by herself. Plus she’s the heart and soul of the spirit of Christmas.”
Mom called from the porch. “Serena, I think I’ll come in now. The breeze is picking up, and the sun has gone behind the trees.”
Michael put the case by the steps and went to the door. “I’ll get her.”
“Thank you.” Serena pondered the seriousness of All Things Christmas. Her mother hadn’t told her they were operating with a smaller staff.
Were she and Michael holding out any other information Serena needed?
Only time would tell. As soon as her mother was settled for the night, Serena would make arrangements to check on the store tomorrow.
; Regret at waiting five years to come back to Oak Hollow started to gnaw at the back of her mind. Tomorrow was the soonest she could get to All Things Christmas, but Serena wouldn’t wait a moment longer.
* * *
Serena backed her car out of the drive the next morning and headed down Griffin Street. It may as well be have been named Memory Lane. It wasn’t the closest way to the store, but it would take her by her favorite childhood place. She slowed to a stop in front of the castle house. Dreams of raising a family there with Michael were buried under years of real life.
A smile at the memory of their time on the swing tugged at her. They were sweet memories. But that’s all they were.
Looking at the old house, she noticed the swing was the same one, but it wore a fresh coat of beige paint. The handrail on the front steps had been repaired. The last time she’d seen the house, it had been empty for a few years. Watching the beginnings of its decline had saddened her. Now it was restored to its former glory with a rosy-beige paint as the main color. Pale pewter on the upper turret made the circular shape shine in the morning sun, and accents of rich mahogany defined the windows. All of it came together with the beige trim that matched the swing. It was exactly as she’d imagined the original owners would have wanted it.
The lawn was neat. A kaleidoscope of mums in yellows, reds, and white bloomed in pots on either side of the steps. Wind chimes hung from the ornate trim that framed the porch. She let the window of her car down and listened to the melody they played in the morning breeze.
She’d given up on the castle house as her dream, but she was glad someone had made the house into a home.
With a deep breath, she drove around the block and headed to All Things Christmas. As she drove through town, city workers were using a bucket truck to attach the white snowflakes to the light posts. They lit the town every Christmas. Simple and pretty. Not overdone. Just like the town.
Michael was unlocking the front door when she pulled her car into a space in front of the store. She grabbed her computer bag and locked the car.
“Good morning, Michael.”
He turned the Closed sign around. “Hello, Serena.” His voice was tight. Professional. And a bit cool.
“What is it?” She followed him inside. Jingle bells rang as he closed the door behind them.
“You don’t think your mother might need you today? It’s only Friday. I wonder if three days after her surgery is too soon to leave her.”
“She’s with Edna. You know the two of them will be watching home improvement shows and eating cake before lunch. My only problem will be getting Mom to take her nap when I get home.”
“Edna was a good choice.” He turned on the computerized cash register and went to the office. She went in behind him and put her bag on the desk while he opened the safe.
She watched him pull out the start up cash and lock the safe. “That’s the same bank bag they used when Dad opened the store. I was six. How many times has the bank changed hands since then?”
“I lost count.” He held up the bag. “But the heritage of things like this are why this store needs to stay open.”
“You’re probably the reason it’s still here. I never could get Mom to see the need to update. Keeping up with the times isn’t enough to save a business these days. You’ve got to stay ahead of the trends, or at least ride the crest of the wave as it’s happening.”
Michael shook his head. “Christmas isn’t a trend, Serena. It doesn’t change with the times. It’s tradition based on the birth of Jesus. That will never go out of style.”
“Jesus will last forever, but stores like this usually don’t.” She sat down behind the desk and booted the computer. “I hate saying it. This place was my world. I barely remember life before this store. But nothing lasts forever.” She met his gaze. “We both know that.”
Michael didn’t say a word. He just turned his back on her and walked into the store. She heard the cash drawer open and the coins tumbling into the slots in the tray.
They’d both avoided the subject of their past, but it was the elephant in the room. It had to be addressed.
“Michael, will you come in here for a minute, please?”
He came to stand in the doorway.
She gestured to the chair opposite the desk. “Please. Let’s clear the air.”
“There’s nothing in the air, Serena. The winds of change cleared the air between us a long time ago. We need to focus on your mother and the shop.” He’d rebuffed her without batting an eye.
“Well.” She cleared her throat. “I’m glad that’s settled.” She pulled the keyboard toward her on the desk. “Let’s get to work then.” She clicked the mouse on a program she didn’t see as he walked out of the office. Only after he left did she take a breath. He was over her. No signs of the love they’d shared manifested to ruffle his feathers.
She’d take a page from his book and get to work. She closed the unneeded program and opened the money management program on the desktop. She typed in her mother’s usual password. The screen filled with the pages of the finances one file at a time, and Serena’s calculating mind went to work on the store’s future.
The jingle bells announced the customers who came and went. What Serena didn’t hear a lot was the cash register beeping as Michael rang up purchases. The activity outside the office had faded from awareness as she’d worked. Not until Michael tapped on the door did she look up from her work.
“Want some lunch? I’m going to grab something from Luther’s.”
“What?” She rubbed her forehead to alleviate the tension in the muscles of her face.
“I asked if you want some lunch.”
“You close for lunch?” They couldn’t close for lunch. Not if the numbers she was seeing were true. And they were true. After years of crunching numbers, she knew disaster when she saw it.
“No. I go next door to Luther’s and pick up my lunch. I come back here to eat it. Denise and I take turns getting out of the store for a few minutes.”
“Oh. I see. I just know we can’t afford to miss any customer traffic.”
Michael leaned against the door frame. “I know that, too. And so does your mother.” He nodded his head in the direction of the computer. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
She drew in a breath and glanced at the figures on the screen. “I think I should discuss this with Mom before I answer that.” She closed the files she’d opened and emailed the information she needed to herself. “I will take you up on the offer of lunch. I can watch the store while you go. It’ll give me a chance to call and check on Mom.”
He straightened. “Your usual?”
The thought of a cheeseburger and fries with a chocolate shake made her mouth water. “Do you remember?”
“Yes.” He pivoted in the doorway.
“Let me give you some money.”
He held up a hand in dismissal of her offer and walked through the store.
She hurried to the office door. “No…”
He cut her off. “No pickle. I know.” The bells rang out, and he was gone.
How could they pick up where they left off in the friendship and not be hurt by the depth of love they’d developed and then abandoned? The abandonment had been on her part, but she hadn’t known what else to do.
She made a quick call to her mom. Everything was going fine at home. Edna had rolled the wheelchair onto the porch, and they were eating lunch outside. Georgia weather in November could be cold, hot, or anywhere between, and they were taking full advantage of the fine day.
After the call, Serena wandered through the store. A motion-activated, chuckling Santa the size of a small child stood beside the cash register. Handcrafted stockings hung along one wall. Trees in various sizes were stationed around the space, each boasting a color or concept theme. She fingered the tree with Nativity ornaments. It had always been her favorite. White lights, stars, shepherds, and Baby Jesus nestled among the branches. Another tree was covered in old-fashioned o
rnaments. Nutcrackers, pine cones, and lights shaped like candles hung on the limbs of the silk tree.
Displays of scented candles and stocking holders helped to fill the floor space.
She picked up a stuffed snowman sporting a red scarf and straightened his carrot nose.
On the back wall a large window afforded a view of her mother’s craft room. Tables lined the center of the space. Each was a station for a different type of craft. A sewing machine sat on the table where she made stockings. Glue, ribbon, scissors, and glitter were in the center of the ornament table.
Serena stood looking through the glass and focused on her favorite section of the room. Mom’s easel faced the store. She always had a painting in progress that the customers could see. Today’s offering was a night sky filled with stars over a children’s choir dressed in angel costumes with their little mouths open as they sang a carol in the yellow halo of light under a glowing street lamp.
Tears filled her eyes. The jingle bells rang, and Michael called out to her. She dashed away the tears with the back of her hand. She didn’t want him to see her cry. Not when she didn’t know why she was crying. “I’m in the back. I’ll meet you in the office.”
His voice came from behind her. “Denise and I eat in the craft room.” He lifted a bag of food and pointed with one finger. “At that table.”
Serena sniffed and took the bag from him. “I see you two have made some changes for the better.” She followed him into the room and put the bag down beside the cardboard drink carrier he set in the middle of the table.
“This way we don’t have to eat in shifts, and we can keep an eye out for customers.”
“Smart.” She sat opposite him at the small square table with four chairs.
They took out their food, and he offered a blessing. The first bite of Luther’s cheeseburger confirmed the perfection of a mom-and-pop style restaurant.
“You can’t get anything like this near me in Atlanta.” She dabbed a napkin at the corner of her mouth.