by Leah Atwood
“It will take some major cutbacks. We’ll have to cut every corner we can.”
Her mother looked puzzled. “I’ve done that.”
“I can see where you’ve trimmed waste, but this is more than that. This is cutting back like pruning your rose bushes in January. It’s ugly when it first happens, but the roses in the springtime make you forget the thorny stalks of the winter.”
Michael smiled at her. She knew, as well as she knew her own thoughts, that he approved of her using comparisons that would help get her mother on board.
“First, the part-time staff will have to be cut.”
Michael spoke up. “I’ve already cut back. If we cut more, I won’t be able to make deliveries. We need someone to help customers while I’m out.”
“I’ll be here until after Christmas. I spoke with Dr. Akers yesterday at Mom’s appointment. It’s going to be another two weeks before she can expect her ribs to heal. Right now, she’s in a great deal of pain with any cough, sneeze, or deep breath. She’s got two more weeks in the wheelchair, then another three weeks on a walker with a hard cast and partial weight bearing. If that goes well, she’ll move to a walking boot for a few weeks.”
Michael turned to her mom. “That long?” At her nod, he added, “You’ll make it. And our setup for you here is working well. At least you aren’t stuck at the house.”
Her mom smiled. “You know I’d be crazy if I had to stay home that long.”
“After the doctor told us that, I decided to stay until she’s in the boot. That will take us through to December 27th. I’ll be here to help with the after-Christmas sale.”
“Five weeks?” Her mother teared up. “I haven’t had you for five weeks in so long. I’ll be spoiled to you by then.”
Serena hoped to stop the flow of tears. “You’ll probably be longing for peace and quiet at your house by then.”
“So you’re going to help in the store?” Michael looked at her. “The woman who doesn’t do Christmas anymore is going to sell Christmas to everyone who comes in?”
“I am. For Mom.”
They went over the details of ways to cut expenses. Mom and Michael bucked at some of her suggestions, but she refused to back down. If All Things Christmas could be saved, she’d save it. Then she’d go back to Atlanta and try to forget how nice it was to sit in this office and listen to Michael and her mother go back and forth with ideas. How nice it was when the store closed that evening and he helped her mother into the car and offered to follow them home and help get her inside.
Lord, please let this plan work. I don’t know if it will work forever, but at least let the shop stay open as long as Mom is with me. I think it’s her reason for living. She does enjoy it.
* * *
Michael stopped on the top step of Denise’s house. “Serena, I appreciate what you’re trying to do to save the store for your mother.”
“It’s her world. I don’t know what she’ll do if it closes. And I’m afraid that what we’re doing will be too little, too late.”
“I have some ideas I didn’t want to mention in front of your mother.” He took a breath. He didn’t want her to think he was asking for a date, but they needed to talk without Denise. “Would you be willing to take a ride with me tomorrow afternoon? Maybe after you have your Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Okay. That’s actually a good time. Edna is coming over after her grandkids go home. She said they’ll exhaust her, but she’ll have lots of pics to show Mom. How about four o’clock?”
“That’s perfect.” He nodded. “Well, good-night then.” He went down the porch steps.
“Are you off to church to teach the boys’ class Mom mentioned last week?”
He turned back to her. “No. We moved it to last night because of the holiday.”
“I always knew you’d be good with boys.”
He couldn’t read her expression in the shadows of the porch light.
“They’re a lot of fun.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He heard the screen door swing shut as she reentered the house. After he climbed into his truck, he took a minute to stare up at the house. A house that once felt like his own. Denise always welcomed him. Now every minute on the property was awkward and strained.
He backed out of the drive and passed his house as he headed out of town for a long drive on the county road south of town. He cranked down the window of the truck and let the wind swirl through the cab. He needed to focus on his ideas for creating an internet phase to All Things Christmas, but he couldn’t get the sight of Serena on the porch in a red sweater with her long, brown hair hanging over her shoulders out of his mind.
The last five years had been kind to her. She was no longer the girl who’d just become a woman. No she was a beautiful lady with poise and elegance. Her strong character was evident back then, but now it was honed into something powerful.
Something that threatened to pull him in and drown him. Again.
* * *
Thursday afternoon, Michael pulled into Denise’s driveway. Edna’s over-sized sedan was parked too close to Serena’s car. Why did little ladies of a certain age feel the need to drive cars the size of a living room? He laughed and made sure she hadn’t hit Serena’s car when she parked. All was fine, and he headed for the steps.
Serena opened the door before he reached it. “Oh, hi. You’re right on time.” She called over her shoulder, “Bye, Mom. I’ll be back before dark.”
Denise’s voice echoed from the depths of the house. “No hurry, dear. Edna and I are watching these cute little kittens play ball on the TV.”
Michael laughed out loud then. “Kittens playing ball?”
Serena shook her head. “Don’t ask me how something that silly ended up on television. It’s not for me.” She buttoned her wool jacket and pulled the collar up around her neck.
He turned to walk beside her to his truck. “Do you mind if we take my truck?” He pointed up the driveway. “You seem to be blocked in.”
“Sure.” She threw up her hands and grinned. “Why not?”
He opened the door for her to climb into the passenger seat. The way she grabbed the bar on the inside of the opening and swung herself onto the bench seat made him smile. The truck was almost twenty years old. He’d saved up his money for it during high school and kept it ever since. She slid into the seat like she had on every date they’d been on. Another memory.
“So, where are we going to have this talk?” Serena pulled on her seatbelt and snapped it into place.
“You’ll see.” He closed the door and walked around the bed of the truck. Seeing her sitting there was hard. The girl he’d loved was lost to him. This woman was the same friend but a different person.
He cranked the truck and headed toward the high school. The fall breeze from the windows felt good. He turned up the radio and they listened to old songs from their parents’ youth. She started to hum along. By the time he parked near the track behind the high school she was singing the words to one of her favorite songs under her breath. He left the truck running until it ended.
“I love that song.” She ran her fingers up the side of her neck and under the back of her hair. She pulled the brown tresses from the inside of her sweater and pushed open the door.
He joined her in front of the truck. “I thought a walk would be good for us.”
“Everyone should come here on Thanksgiving afternoon.” She stepped over the curb and onto the grass. He had to pick up his pace to catch her.
“Give it a few minutes. I expect a big crowd before dark.”
“Can we walk and talk?” she asked as she went through the opening in the fence.
He laughed. This was her way. Wait for no one. Her assertiveness was admirable. Keeping up with her had always been a challenge.
They turned onto the track and fell into a steady rhythm. She lifted her face to the sky and walked a few steps. “After a week of being stuck inside without much
of a chance to move around, this is refreshing.”
“I’m glad.”
They walked in silence for two laps of the quarter-mile track.
Michael didn’t look at Serena when he spoke. “I’ve got some ideas that may help the store.” If she rejected his thoughts, he didn’t want to see it on her face.
“I’ve left Mom looking at modern decorations on my laptop.”
“How did you get her to agree to that?”
“I pulled up a couple of boards where people had pinned their ideas and showed her the latest trends. Young people have different tastes. Much the same as I don’t wear the same clothes she does, younger families don’t decorate their homes the same way people her age do.”
“Ouch. You really are pulling out all the stops.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Don’t be surprised if she comes in tomorrow with designs for you to cut pallets into tree shapes so she can paint and sell them.”
“Pallets?”
“Sure. You know anything made from something recycled is the modern way.”
“I think I’ve come up with a way to expand our customer base and increase profits.”
“What?” She sounded interested.
“We could offer decorating services – to businesses and residential clients. Your mom could go to the property and design the décor. I could go back and put everything up. Maybe hire some part-time help for that.”
“I can see the value of the service you’re talking about. Banks and restaurants, places like that, always decorate, but it’s seldom done with the flair Mom has. Only we really can’t afford any extra help right now. Maybe if we’d done it a few months ago, Mom could have advertised and built a client base for that kind of service. It’s already Thanksgiving. Most businesses will have their decorating done by now.”
She was right.
“What if we save that idea for next year?”
“If there is a next year.” There was no optimism in her tone.
“I have another modern way.”
She pointed at a bench outside the fence. “Mind if we sit?”
They walked to the bench as several cars trickled into the parking lot. People waved and called out greetings on their way to the track.
Michael sat on the front edge of the bench and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking out over the track. “I think we should create a website and sell online.”
“Hmm…do you think there’s enough stock on hand to meet the demands of a website?”
“Yes. The things we personalize, like stockings, could be big sellers.”
“How do you propose we get traffic to the site?”
“What about social media? We could do giveaways on a promo page to get people to like the store and share our info. There are lots of ways to advertise on social media that are affordable.”
“Social media would target a younger audience, too.” The way her voice lilted up as she spoke made him brave a look in her direction. “We could get people to check in online when they visit the shop.”
“Do you think it could be a good idea?”
She was nodding her head. “I do. It may not be enough to save us, but if it took off with the right products, it could be a game changer.”
“It’s nice to see you excited and smiling.” He leaned back on the bench and shifted to face her.
She smiled and glanced away. “It’s nice to have something to hope for about the store. I’ve been worried since I left, but Mom has refused to let me help.”
“She doesn’t think you want anything to do with the store. She even said you’ve given up on Christmas.”
The smile faded in an instant. “I lost Christmas the day I left town. I know she didn’t mean to, but Mom ruined it for me when she refused my help. I knew she wouldn’t move forward with new ideas. It turns out I was right. I only stayed because I knew she couldn’t get through this season without me. I’m here, at a Christmas store, but don’t expect me to be filled with Christmas joy. It’s lost to me.”
“You can’t lose Christmas.”
“You can walk away from it.”
“Serena, if you really don’t want to be here, I can take care of it. I’m sure Edna and some of your mother’s other friends can help with your mom. I can handle the store.”
“You’re the muscle of the shop. You said yourself that deliveries and such can’t be done by Mom or the part-time help. You’re the muscle. I can’t spare you to be the brains, too.”
“That almost sounds sexist.”
“It’s realistic. I can’t do the heavy lifting alone. Mom can do the designing and decorating. I’ll help her. If I remember right, your stars and snowflakes were the ones our second grade teacher put on the back of the tree.”
“She probably destroyed any artistic talent I had that year.” He laughed, and Serena joined in. Second grade. They’d known each other a lifetime. A bittersweet lifetime.
* * *
Friday morning was a mad rush of sales. Serena was wrapping a giant nutcracker in paper while her mom took the customer’s money. She slid it into a large bag with sturdy handles and passed it across the counter. She handed the lady a flyer for their new website. After she’d arrived home from her meeting with Michael the night before, she’d spent several hours online setting up a new website homepage and several social media accounts. The flyers hadn’t taken long to design on a program she’d learned while marketing her own business.
“Stop by our new website and join our mailing list. We’ll send you emails about future sales and special events. You can like our social media page, too. We’d love to connect with all our customers online.”
“Thank you. I’d like that.” The lady called her two preteen girls away from the candle display and left the store.
Her mother was ringing up another sale. Serena leaned close and whispered to her. “Michael’s idea was great! I love the response we’re getting.”
Michael came through the door to the storeroom with a large box on a hand truck. “Who gets the lighted 8’ spruce?”
“That’s me.” Another lady came from behind the table covered with silk poinsettias.
“Lead the way.”
Michael stopped to talk to her mother when he came back inside. “How are you holding up?”
“Wonderfully well.” She thanked the lady who’d purchased eight stockings and stocking holders for her grandchildren.
Serena was busy writing the names down the way the lady wanted them to read on the stockings. “You can pick these up next Tuesday, Mrs. Fielding.”
For the first time in over three hours there wasn’t a line at the register. Serena leaned against a stool and huffed out an exhausted sigh. “How do you do this? I’m exhausted.”
Michael laughed. “It’s the rush that gets us through the rest of the year.” He winked at her mom. “We embrace it, don’t we?”
“We do.” Her mother was all smiles in the wheelchair. She wore a red sweater with snowflakes embroidered all over the front. The Santa hat was the finished touch that made her mom who she was. A lady who loved Christmas almost as much as she loved Jesus.
“How about a cold drink?” Michael headed for the door. “I can dash into Luther’s and be back before you have these young ladies checked out.” He indicated the two young mothers who approached the register.
“Yes, please.” Serena answered for both of them.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. She and Michael took every opportunity to talk up the store’s new online presence. The best responses came from the younger demographic, but Serena was surprised how many customers of her mother’s generation wanted to have access to online sales.
They closed the store at eight and headed for home. Serena ordered a pizza to be delivered and got her mother ready for bed while Michael prepared drinks for them in the kitchen.
With Mom in her robe, Serena wheeled her up to the kitchen table. The doorbell rang.
; Michael headed to answer it. “I’ll take care of the pizza guy. You can get the plates.”
They ate in contented silence for a few minutes before her mom spoke up. “Today was wonderful. I’m certain we’ll be able to pull it off.”
Michael smiled at her mom and said, “It was a great day. I’m not exactly sure, but the receipts may be as high as last year on Black Friday.”
“It’s only been one day. We need to give time for the people who signed up for the email list to react to our first newsletters.” Serena picked up her plate. “Speaking of which, I need to go enter the ones that people gave us today. I want to send out something in the morning before we open.”
Michael gathered his plate and her mom’s. “I best get by the bank with that deposit and head home. Tomorrow is another long day.” He put the dishes in the sink. “I promise to handle everything before you come at 9:45 in the morning, but only if you go straight to bed now.”
“You’ll get no argument from me tonight.” Her mom pointed at her leg. “This pest is putting up a fight tonight.”
“Mom, you have to tell us if you can’t handle the hours. I really don’t want you going every day.”
“I know, but I feel better if I do.” She looked at both of them. “I’ll make a deal with you. You can leave me here in the morning. I’ll call a friend to come stay, but you have to get me after lunch.”
Serena was surprised to see this much cooperation from her. “That makes me feel much better.”
“It’ll probably make me feel better, too.” Her mom laughed. “Now, you go to the bank,” she pointed at Michael, then at her, “and you help me into bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Michael gave a playful salute and left them.
Later that night, after two hours of computer work, Serena stared out the window by her bed. Her head was heavy on the pillow, but she couldn’t get her mind off of how hard Michael worked. She’d seen his salary in the books she’d pored over for her mother’s sake. He was amply compensated, but not with an exorbitant salary. He could be anywhere, doing any kind of work. He was one of the smartest men she’d ever known. Why did he stay at a business that could go under at any moment?