The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection

by Patricia Kiyono

  The parking lot was lit as brightly as a football field, and she realized the blaze had engulfed the roof. There was a loud crash as the steeple sank into the church. Sophie’s heart clenched as she thought of the danger they’d escaped.

  “Sophie, all the kids have been accounted for and picked up. Why don’t I take you home?” Mitch put his hands on her shoulders and spoke as he gently guided her toward his car. Sophie was too drained to argue. He opened the car door and waited for her to get in, wrapping the ends of the blanket around her. Angie got into the back seat, and he pulled out of the lot. But before they’d even gone a block, the tears started to fall.

  Where the tears came from, she didn’t know. But they came. In buckets. Mitch pulled into Dave and Joanie’s driveway and reached for her. She laid her head on his shoulder and let her pent-up feelings pour out. She sobbed because she could have been inside with all those kids, totally unaware of the danger until it was too late. She sobbed because of all the hard work the kids had put into the pageant, which would not take place. She sobbed because the church, the cornerstone of the community, someplace where she’d always felt safe, was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Another day, another list. Sophie pursed her lips as she decided what to tackle first. She should go to the church early and—

  The pen fell out of her hands. The church! As the events of the previous Wednesday night returned to her, her shoulders sagged, her face fell, and the sense of hopeless she’d felt returned.

  She set her notebook back on the nightstand. There was no point in making a list now. Setting her pillow down, she lay back and closed her eyes, but her mind kept replaying the horror of the fire. The feeling of terror as she’d herded the children outside, counting and recounting the little bodies to make sure no one had been left behind. The sense of urgency while waiting for the parents to come. And the feeling of dejection that all their hard work had been for naught.

  Even the thrill at being in Mitch’s arms was dulled by the tragedy. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since that night. Had he regretted the closeness they’d shared?

  “Sophie? Breakfast is ready. Come on down and eat so we can get ready for church.” Dave’s voice floated up the stairs.

  Joanie insisted the show was going to proceed as planned, although Sophie really didn’t understand how that would happen. Her sister had spent most of the last two days on the phone, calling everyone in the county. Apparently the VanEerdens had offered to clear out their barn and set things up so that the service could take place there. Each family was asked to bring their own chairs. Although Sophie appreciated her sister’s efforts, she couldn’t see the whole congregation going to so much trouble to watch a Christmas pageant in a barn. Good grief, they’d have to wrap up in their winter coats and cover up with blankets! And what kind of pageant would it be without the lovely decorations that had adorned the sanctuary? Well, she would go, but she’d wager there wouldn’t be more than a dozen people to watch it. They’d be lucky to get even half the cast there. Who would want to bring their kids to a production like that? And what would they do if only a handful of the actors showed up? Joanie had told her everyone would be there, but she tended to exaggerate when she wanted to believe people were on board with her schemes.

  Guess I’d better get up, she told herself. She’d get dressed and go, even if no one else did. They probably wouldn’t be there long. Her heart ached for the kids who had worked so hard, for the moms who had helped out with costumes, for — everyone.

  Stepping down the stairs, she heard her sister and brother-in-law at the breakfast table. Obviously they didn’t share her skepticism. They were dressed casually but warmly, prepared for the frigid temps but didn’t seemed concerned or worried about freezing to death.

  “Morning, Sophie. Have some breakfast. You’ve gotta get some fuel in you before your big day,” Joanie sang. She sounded like a cheerful little bird. Nobody should sound that bubbly first thing in the morning. Still, Sophie knew Joanie wouldn’t let up if she refused, so she sat and ate. Now that little Abbie was there, Joanie had a lot more energy and had been cooking more. It was a good thing she’d bounced back to her energetic self. It would make things easier when she moved out. The phone call she’d received on Friday had been the only bright spot in the past week. She’d wanted to call Mitch and tell him the news, but she wasn’t sure how he’d react — or if he would have any kind of reaction at all.

  “Dave, do you have everything packed in the SUV?” Joanie asked.

  “Yes, dear. Every blasted thing you had stacked by the back door is now in the car. We’ll have to strap the baby to the roof, but all our stuff will get there safely.”

  Joanie gave her husband a playful swat and got up to get the coffeepot.

  ~~~~

  The Bennett family arrived early to help with setup. The VanEerdens’ oldest daughter kept the baby and Joey in the house while Sophie, Dave, and Joanie went to the barn.

  The minute she walked through the wide doors, she froze in her steps. The inside of the barn had been transformed into a beautiful sanctuary. Strings of Christmas lights had been draped from the beams and on the walls, brightening the barn’s interior with a soft, gentle glow. The wall opposite the barn doors had been set up as a makeshift stage with plywood panels laid atop concrete blocks. And taking place of honor in the center was the old wooden cross that normally adorned the wall of Zutphen Community Church.

  Joanie and her friends had worked a miracle. But their efforts wouldn’t matter if the congregation didn’t show up to see it. Would they come? Would they have enough performers to put the show on?

  Helen DeGroot entered behind her. “Oh there you are, Sophie. I hoped I’d find you here already. I wanted to go over some of the adjustments we’ll need to make...” She opened her notebook and the two spent a few minutes with Mabel Groendyke. Just as they finished, Sophie closed her notebook and looked around. She thought she felt a little warmer and now she knew why. While the three women had been talking, the barn had gradually filled with parishioners. Lawn chairs, folding chairs, benches of all kinds had been set up in neat rows. Many of her youngsters waited in a group, under the watchful eyes of Martha Longton and Agnes VanMeter. She found her sister and brother-in-law returning from the house with Joey.

  “How did you manage all this?” she asked.

  Joanie shrugged. “Just a few phone calls, a few favors called in. Nothing special. Everyone wanted to help, especially with all the work you put into it.”

  “But it’s only been three days! This must have taken all your time. This whole set up — the heaters, the sound system, the decorations, the stage, the set—”

  “Archie Todd owns all the sound equipment. He used it last night at a party in Jamestown and brought it over afterward. And you know Carol VanEerden — she’s a whiz at decorating the sanctuary — she said she had all this stuff here from previous Christmas pageants.”

  “But notifying all the parents—”

  “That was a piece of cake. Donna VanderMeulen is the Sunday School superintendent, and she had the class lists and phone numbers. We got four of five moms to do the calling.”

  Sophie stood still as the tears filled her eyes. She was overcome with gratitude for the love and dedication of the people in her community who cared enough about their children and the hard work they’d done that they’d gone the extra mile to make the pageant happen, despite the tragedy.

  “Miss Sophie, are you okay?” Josh stood next to her, tugging her arm. “Me and my brother, we’re sorry about the fire. And we, uh, we’ll behave ourselves today. Grandma told us we wouldn’t get no more cookies before we come to church. So we’ll be good.”

  “Yeah,” Jordan echoed. “We’re sorry we made you cry. You cried Wednesday night, too. Mommy cries sometimes when we’re naughty. Grandma used to say it was Mommy’s fault, but now she said it’s her fault for giving us too much sugar. And she said it’s her fault we burned the church down. She sa
id we can’t go nowhere by ourselves for a long, long, time.”

  Sophie wrapped the little boy in a hug. “I know you’re sorry, Jordan.” She hesitated before asking, “Is someone with you today?”

  “Yeah,” Josh answered. “Grandpa and Grandma DeSmit and Mommy are watching me, and Grandma and Grandpa Longton and Uncle Nolan are supposed to watch Jordan.” Sophie looked up to see the six relatives hovering nearby. Nolan cast her a grin and pointed to his eyes, assuring her he would watch his nephews very carefully. She gave her old friend a thumbs-up before looking back at the twins.

  “Well, I’m glad your grandmas and grandpas and other relatives are all here. And I know you’re both going to do a great job this morning.”

  The little boys flashed identical gap-toothed grins and raced off. Sugar or not, the boys had plenty of energy.

  Angie Carson took her place on the improvised stage. She smiled and waved at her family. Sophie directed a glance to where Angie waved and saw Mitch with his entire family, along with Geoffrey Billingsworth. They had set up their seats as close to the front as they could get and had their cameras ready.

  Pastor Sikkema welcomed everyone with some very eloquent words about the church not being a building but a group of believers. He began with the verse in Matthew that reads, “Where two or three are gathered in my Name, there am I in the midst of them.” He thanked the VanEerdens for hosting the service and pageant and thanked the parents for being so flexible and for sharing their talented children.

  “And without further ado, we have the annual Christmas pageant, directed by Helen DeGroot and Sophie Gardner.”

  The show went off without a hitch. Well, almost. Mary dropped the baby Jesus on the floor then hastily picked him up, dusted him off with her headpiece, and placed him in the manger. Jordan Longton got a little too excited about bringing his new truck to baby Jesus and tripped over the microphone cord. But each child spoke his or her line clearly and the songs rang out with joy.

  Afterward, Helen came over and congratulated her. “Wonderful job with the children, Sophie. I can’t remember a nicer program. I love the way you did so much more with the children than usual. This is a show to remember — and not just because we’re in a different place.”

  Pastor Sikkema thanked her too. “Nice program, Sophie. If you end up going to Hollywood, we’re going to see some great shows and movies.”

  And then there was Mitch. He gave her a thumbs up but kept his distance while Angie gave her a big hug. Sophie hugged her back and then gasped when she saw the little girl’s tear stained face.

  “Angie, what’s the matter?”

  “Miss Sophie, I don’t want you to go away!”

  “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Where did you think I was going?”

  “Daddy said you’re going to move away and that’s why you can’t be my mom.”

  “Your — mom?”

  “Yeah. I said I wished you could be my mommy and Daddy said he wished you could too, but you’re going to live in New York or California and be a famous writer.”

  Sophie didn’t know what to say. “He said — he wished I could?”

  Angie nodded. “He said he loved you as much as I do. But he said we can’t stop you from going for your dreams.”

  Warmth. Blessed warmth stole through her. She squatted down and put her forehead against Angie’s and spoke very softly. “Sweetheart, can you keep a secret?”

  The little girl nodded.

  “It used to be my dream to move far away, but now I’m having a very different one. Now I dream about having a house and a husband and a little girl.”

  Angie beamed through her tears. “We have a house. Daddy could be a husband. And I’m a little girl.”

  “Yes, you are. And my new wish is that you could be my little girl. But you have to promise to keep that a secret for now. I’ll tell your dad about it very soon. We’ll surprise him, okay?” She waited for Angie’s nod. “Okay, go on back to your family. Tell your dad I’ll come over later this afternoon. Tell him — tell him I have some questions about living in the Big City.”

  “Okay. See you, Sophie!”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Mitch paced back and forth across the kitchen after checking the driveway for the tenth time in five minutes. Angie had told him Sophie wanted to come and talk to him, but she didn’t know when. With each lap, his nerves became more frayed. Was she coming to say goodbye forever? How would he bear that? Did he dare ask her to stay? Should he offer to follow her out there? Would she want him to?

  What puzzled him was that Angie didn’t seem worried. She’d said she’d be willing to move to be near Sophie, but she probably didn’t realize what a move like that would mean for her. Maybe it was because she didn’t really have a concept of how far away California was from Michigan. She’d have to find all new friends and get used to a new town. She wouldn’t be able to see her cousins regularly.

  Just when he thought he’d worn a hole through the floor, Sophie knocked. He hadn’t heard her pull into the drive, so she must have skied over. He let her in, took her coat and hung it on a peg in the mud room, then offered her a cup of coffee. Just like any friendly, neighborly visit. So why are my hands so clammy?

  She stirred creamer into her coffee and put her hands around the mug, warming them. He sat across the table from her, cradling his own mug, wondering what to say. Wondering if he needed to say anything. Please don’t leave were the only words that came to mind.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “I owe you an apology. You were right about Jonas Mack. He’s a total fraud. I made some calls and checked with some legitimate agencies and they all agreed he was bad news. I’m sorry I acted so childishly that day.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sorry it worked out that way for you. There are lots of good agents, and I’m sure one of them will call you soon.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not going to wait. Yesterday I signed the lease on an apartment, and I’m going to work on my new career.”

  His hand went to his gut. The pain couldn’t have been any worse if she had stabbed him.

  He forced the air back into his lungs. “So, when are you moving?”

  “Probably in a week or so.”

  That soon? His heart plunged to his feet. “You’re probably packing already.”

  “Not really. There’s no hurry. It’s not like I have all that much stuff.”

  “Oh. So, you won’t need help?”

  “I could probably use some help. Are you offering?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Business is going to be slow until spring. Then it’ll be engagement pictures and passport pictures. But January is a pretty slow month. I’ll have time to drive to — wherever you’re going.” Aware of his rambling, he closed his mouth.

  “Okay. That’s perfect. I don’t get the keys until next week, and the apartment isn’t mine until the first. That gives me some time to find furniture and stuff before the job starts. Joanie’s giving me a few items, and I’ve got some things in storage.”

  “You found a job already? That’s… great.” He’d put a smile on his face and be happy for her, if that’s what she wanted.

  “Yes, and the apartment is only two blocks away from the theater. That way I don’t have to drive far if there’s a big snow storm.”

  “Snow storms, in LA?”

  She laughed, and he thought about how much he would miss the way her nose crinkled when she giggled. “No. In Grand Rapids.”

  “Grand — you’re moving into town?”

  “Yes. I’m the new stage manager of the River City Dinner Theater. And if things go well there, the owners want to expand and open another one in Holland in a few years. If they do that, I’d be able to move back closer to Zutphen.”

  Mitch gripped his mug tighter as his mind spun, trying to absorb the change of events. His spirits lifted as tiny seeds of hope took root. She wasn’t going to LA. She was moving, but only twenty miles away to downtown Grand Rapids. She was
going to—

  “Dinner theater? Will you write scripts for them too?”

  “Maybe, after I’ve proved myself. The owners were impressed with my credentials — I’ve studied culinary arts for a while and I have a degree in theater. So when I saw an ad for the new dinner theater downtown, I—”

  “Dinner theater?” Why couldn’t he stop repeating himself?

  “Yeah. At night. It’s not a full time thing yet, so during the day I’ll be working in the Community College cafeteria. That’s only a few blocks in the other direction. I won’t even need a car. Except to come and visit Zutphen from time to time. The city is nice, but there’s no place to ski or hike.”

  “Grand Rapids? You’re — you’re not moving to Hollywood?”

  “No. I thought that’s what I wanted. I thought I needed to be a big name scriptwriter to feel like a success. But not anymore. I’ve got family here. I want to be here.” She watched him closely as she spoke.

  “I’m — glad.” Glad didn’t begin to describe his emotions. He wanted to jump up and down, scream, pump his fists in the air, all that stuff people do at the end of a feel-good movie. Especially the romantic ones. He wanted to kiss her senseless. But his hands and feet wouldn’t move.

  “You’re glad I want to be here?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m really, really glad.”

  She tilted her head and fixed him with those enticing green eyes. “Why?”

  She wants me to say the words. “I’m glad because — that means Angie and I don’t have to move.”

  Her eyes widened. “You were going to move, too?”

  “Yes. Well, we talked about it.” He took a deep breath and plunged in. “Because we don’t want to be away from you. You’re too important to us now. We need you.” He took another breath and put his hands over hers. “I need you.”