The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection

by Patricia Kiyono

  “You want to get to the bottom of what?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It involves Paul’s business. I heard you reading the address to whoever you were talking to.”

  “Just… checking out his business recommendations. I might want to hire him sometime.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. “Tell me what’s going on. You use the Internet a lot more than I do, and even I know that you can find those types of things online. You’re digging for something else. What is it?”

  He sighed. “I want to find out why he feels he needs to have his mother do all this work for him. If his secretary is sick or on maternity leave, all he has to do is call a temp agency and get someone to fill in. Why didn’t he do that?”

  Her hands went down to her sides and played with the hem of her blouse. “I-I don’t know. He said he was making cutbacks in his office expenses.”

  “And yet he and his wife dress to the nines, and they have memberships at the country club, the health club, and who knows what else.”

  “Well, I’m sure he’ll drop those, if he needs to. I’m happy to help him out if he needs it.” She looked back up, determination shining from her eyes. “I trust him. He’s my son.”

  “Of course you do. That’s natural. But I care about you and I want to find out what’s going on. Like why he can live in style while you have to watch every penny.”

  “I’m not going to ask him for money.”

  “No, but he has control over yours.”

  “Michael! Are you accusing my son of being dishonest?”

  “I’m not accusing him of anything.”

  “But you’re looking into his business.” She gasped and jabbed at the phone in his pocket. “That was an investigator you were talking to, wasn’t it? You’re going to have someone look into his business to see if he’s doing something shady.”

  “No, I—”

  “I can’t believe you would do this! You don’t even know Paul that well.”

  I know him enough to see that he’s taking advantage of you. Too bad I can’t tell you that.

  He put his hands out in front of him, warding her off. “You’re right, I was out of line. I’ll call Harry and tell him to forget it.”

  “You do that. And you can forget about dinner with me tonight. You can let yourself out. I’ll just fix myself a sandwich.” She turned and stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

  Shaking his head, he picked up his coat and left.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  On Thanksgiving morning, the DeGroot family arrived at the high school auditorium for the church service. Helen followed Paul and his family to their seats. She kept her gaze away from the front row on the opposite side of the aisle where the Sikkema family always sat. Keeping her eyes cast down, she pretended to inspect the contents of her purse, but she saw nothing. She hadn’t spoken to Mike since their heated conversation a few days earlier. Her heart still hurt at the way it had ended. But his suspicions had angered her. How dare he accuse Paul of mishandling her money?

  “Mom, are you looking for something?” Nancy whispered.

  “Ah. No, I… I honestly can’t remember what I was looking for. You know how us old people forget what we’re doing,” she improvised. “I guess I’ll just… pay attention to what’s going on. Are you sure you don’t need anything for dinner?”

  “Nope. I’m all set. Bonnie and I have everything under control.”

  Helen smiled weakly. “You certainly do. Thanks so much for taking care of me.”

  “You’re so welcome.”

  The Bennett family filed into the row in front of them, followed by Joanie’s sister Sophie. Mitch and Angie Carson sat with them. Sophie leaned back and whispered, “Thanks again for giving the theater such a great deal on the props. They were perfect.”

  The women ceased their conversation as Pastor Sikkema took the podium and welcomed the small but happy group. Helen sat back to listen.

  “I want to welcome you all on this glorious fall morning. Thanks for leaving the hustle of Thanksgiving preparation to join us in the type of celebration that first started the holiday — giving thanks for the things God has given us. Today I wanted to focus on one thing specifically: the people who have been put into our lives at exactly the right time when we need them.”

  Helen’s mind immediately went to the gentleman sitting across the aisle who had entered her life so unexpectedly, when she’d been a lonely widow with no direction in her life. Had Mike told his brother about their conversation last weekend?

  She listened intently as the pastor cited helpful people in the scriptures who were in the right place when people needed them — the Egyptian princess who found baby Moses in the rushes, the little boy who fed the thousands with his basket of fish and bread, and of course, the Samaritan who helped a broken traveler. Each of these people appeared at just the right moment.

  “Because of these people, someone’s life was saved. That person probably gave thanks, and we should, too. Not just to the person who came, but to the God who sent him or her.”

  She peeked across the aisle to where Mike sat next to his mother, but brought her attention back to the pulpit as the pastor wrapped up his message.

  “Even though each of these people were heaven sent, none of them knew that what they were doing would affect not only the lives of the people they helped, but countless others. And the people they helped were thankful that these people came into their lives when they did. So today, I’d like to challenge you to thank someone who has come into your life at just the right time. If you have to, seek them out and find them. Let that person know how what they did helped you, even changed you. You’ll be glad you did.”

  After the closing prayer and hymn, the congregation filed out. Helen sat frozen, thinking about what the pastor had said, until Paul tapped her shoulder. “Mom, it’s time to go. Did you need to talk to anyone? We can stay a few minutes for coffee.”

  “Oh! Yes, Paul, I need to speak to someone.” She rose and glanced across the aisle, but Mike wasn’t there anymore. Had he already left? Well, eventually he’d be back at his apartment. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t have another opportunity to talk to him, but it bothered her how they had left things the other night. She’d accused him of some awful things, called him some names when he was trying to protect her. But he didn’t have children, so he didn’t understand that a parent’s love for her child overrode all suspicions. Paul was a good man and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

  They made her way to the lobby where several volunteers filled cups from two large urns of coffee. She took a cup and stepped off to the side of the table. Her senses heightened just before she felt a warm hand on her elbow.

  “Good morning.” The deep, velvety voice calmed and excited her at the same time.

  She met his eyes. “Good morning. I hoped I’d see you here.”

  He nodded. “Me too. I wanted to apologize—”

  She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “No, I need to apologize. You saw something that looked out of place and wanted to help.” She looked around to see if anyone was listening before continuing. “I still don’t like to think anyone is doing anything out of place or harmful to me. But I’m flattered and grateful to you for caring enough to be concerned and wanting to do something about it. Thank you.”

  He smiled then, and her heart turned over. “I called my friend and told him to forget about looking into Paul’s finances. It’s really none of my business, and I shouldn’t have stepped in like that. You’re very precious to me, and I wanted to protect you, but not if it’s going to hurt you or those you love. Will you forgive me?”

  “I already have.”

  He took her hands. “Wonderful. I’m sure you have plans today with your family, and I need to spend time with mine. But save some time for me this evening, all right?”

  She beamed. “Of course.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Helen
cast a quick look around her kitchen. After the delicious dinner at Paul’s house, she’d come home and napped awhile. She loved being with her boys and their families, but the football games didn’t hold her interest, and she wanted to be ready when Mike came. He hadn’t said what time he’d arrive, so she busied herself by straightening little corners of the house.

  She decided to make herself a cup of herbal tea. Since her life had slowed down, she’d discovered she couldn’t drink caffeine after lunch if she wanted to sleep at night. And she needed to be up early the next day. Howard had recovered from his heart attack and was back to work on a limited basis, and he’d called to reschedule her appointment to go over her bank statements. At dinner that afternoon she’d asked Paul for the statements, but he’d been unable to find them. That meant she’d need to go to the bank before her appointment with Howard.

  But before she reached the kettle, someone knocked on the back door. Mike usually knocked and then opened the door, but whoever this was didn’t enter.

  “Who is it?” she called. Chances were good it was someone she knew, but horror stories of things that happened to widows alone in their homes had her reacting with more caution these days. Especially after dark.

  “It’s Paul. And Nancy,” her son’s voice came from the other side of the door.

  “Paul? Nancy?” She opened the door quickly. “Oh goodness, come in. Is something wrong?”

  Nancy spoke first. Her face was puffy and red, and she gripped several tissues in her hand. “I’m afraid so. Let’s sit down. We have something to tell you.”

  Helen led the way to her dining room and sat. Paul looked worse than she’d ever seen him. His hair was a mess, his eyes wild, and he seemed… smaller. She reached out to him, but he turned away. For a moment, she ached for the little boy he’d been, when he’d allowed her to tend to his scrapes and hurts.

  Paul took the chair next to her, while Nancy stepped over to the coffee pot. This isn’t a good sign. If we need coffee, we’re going to be here for a long, serious talk. Is he going to berate me for seeing Mike? Does he think Howard is lying to me? She wrung her hands, waiting for one of them to say something. The coffee pot gurgled, and the leaky faucet in the kitchen dripped, but there was no other sound. Helen wondered whether she should say something.

  Finally Nancy spoke to her husband. “Paul, you tell her now, or I will.”

  Paul squirmed and stared at the table. “Howard was right,” he mumbled.

  “What?” He didn’t just say what I thought he said.

  He cleared his throat. “I said Howard was right,” he said a little louder. “You shouldn’t have had to take money out for that trip. You get more than enough money each month to pay your bills and go wherever you want and order whatever you want at any restaurant you choose.”

  “I do? But why—”

  “Because I was stealing from you!” Paul stood and paced, running his hands through his hair. “I was taking your money and spending it on my company because I was too embarrassed to go to the bank. Because I kept thinking things would get better next month. And because I thought… hoped… prayed that I’d be able to repay the money before anyone found out.” He lifted his anguished eyes, and Helen wanted to hold him, to cradle him and tell him she’d make things all right. But those days were long gone. Even as a youngster, he’d forged his own way, made his own decisions, and refused any comforting gestures from his mother.

  “I would have gladly loaned you whatever I could,” she told him, careful to keep any trace or rebuke from her voice.

  “I know that. You always wanted to help, and I never let you. I saw it as a sign of weakness. I wanted to be like Dad, always strong, always the caretaker.”

  “But—”

  “Dad never had to ask anyone for help. He ran a successful business and provided for us, sent us to college, and did it all on his own.”

  “Paul—”

  “Before he died, I promised him I’d take care of you. I told him you’d never have to worry about anything. And I totally screwed up.”

  “Listen to me!” Helen smacked the table for emphasis, and Paul started. He broke off and spun around, staring as if he’d forgotten she was there.

  “You apparently remember only the good things about our family finances,” she told him. “We weren’t always comfortable. In fact, there were times when we didn’t know how we were going to pay our bills. I remember months when we had to decide whether to pay the electric bill or buy diapers, whether to pay the rent or buy food. Things were tough, and once we even had to move in with my parents.” She reached out and took his hand, willing him to understand. “He didn’t do it all alone. No one can.”

  Paul pursed his lips, and his eyes searched hers, and she thought she’d reached him, reassured him, but then he pulled his hand back and resumed his pacing.

  “I don’t remember any of that. It probably happened when I was really young. But he never took money from his parents.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  Both Paul and Nancy stared this time. “He took money from Oma and Opa?” Paul whispered.

  “Yes.” Helen got up and pulled out coffee mugs for the three of them and poured as she continued. “His parents owned a large shipping company in the Netherlands. They were very well off. That’s why we were able to go and visit them from time to time. Opa wanted your father to join in the family business, but Jozef wanted to come to America. He wanted to own his own company. So when Opa sent him to America on business, he took the money his father gave him to purchase supplies and spent it starting up his own company. He paid his father back of course, but it took several years.”

  “Opa must have been furious.”

  “I’m sure he was. I didn’t know your father then. I didn’t meet him until I went to Hope College and we were both enrolled in a business class. He wanted to learn how to make his business better so he could pay his father back quickly. I was so proud of him for being eager to repay his father. It wasn’t until later that I learned how he’d deceived him.” She put the three mugs on a tray, but before she could lift it, Paul took it to the table.

  Nancy wrapped her hands around her mug. “I feel so awful about this, Mom. We’ve been pushing you to downsize and move so that your expenses would be smaller, but you never really needed to move. We’re the ones who should be cutting back. In fact, I told Paul I’m going to go out and look for a job so we can start repaying you right away. The kids are in school all day, so I should be able to find a job while they’re gone. I heard that the school was looking for part-time teacher aides and playground supervisors.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that? I know how much your charity work means to you,” Helen said.

  “I want to. I should have done more to help provide for the family. I was the one who insisted that I needed to stay home for the kids. After they were in school all day I never made a move to look for a job to help pay for the ballet lessons, team sports fees and equipment, and all the other things the kids needed… and wanted. I told Paul I want to be more informed of our family finances from now on.”

  “You’re smart to do that, dear. I never paid any attention to ours. I just figured Joe would take care of it. And then when Joe died, Paul took care of it. I never had to worry about it, so I didn’t. Until I thought I didn’t have any.”

  “Mom?” Paul wrung his hands.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I am so, so sorry I made it hard on you. I knew it was wrong even while I did it. I think that’s why I was such a grouch with you. You were doing without because of me, and instead of giving the money back to you, I tried to make you live on less. We uh—” He broke off and glanced at his wife. “Nancy and I know that you have the right to press charges. In fact, Howard will probably encourage you to do so. Obviously he suspected something, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked for your bank statements.”

  Mike suspected you too, and I didn’t believe him. Best not to mention that now.

  �
�Oh, I don’t know, dear. He just said we’d go over them and find out where I might be spending extra money. I’ll just tell him you and I figured it out.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Now that you’ve told me what happened, and you’re taking steps to discontinue it, there’s no need to involve anyone else. Once you get things settled, I know my allowance will be a little bigger.”

  “You — you still trust me to take care of your checkbook?”

  She pretended to consider. “Well, for now. But maybe you ought to show me how it’s done.”

  He nodded. “I can do that.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  On the second Sunday morning in December, Paul arrived as usual to take Helen to church. The first major snowfall of the season had come and dumped a foot of snow on the area. He slipped his boots off before entering the house.

  “I’m all set to go,” she told him, lifting her coat from the kitchen chair. Her pageant script and notes were neatly tucked into a folder she’d bought earlier in the week, and her shoe bag with her dress shoes sat next to it.

  Paul helped her with her coat and picked up her folder and shoes. “Anything else you need to take?”

  “Nope, my boots are by the back door,” she told him, buttoning her coat. “Like I said, I’m ready.”

  The high school auditorium was decorated with poinsettias but not much else. She missed the lovely decorations Carol VanEerden and her committee had put up each year.

  One week until the pageant. One more week of dealing with mishaps, lost costumes and props, forgotten lines, and late cast members. She knew the end result would be wonderful, but she certainly wasn’t going to miss the chaos next year. Why had she waited so long to give it up?

  Because it gave you something meaningful to do. She really hadn’t been bored being a housewife and mom, but she wanted to be able to contribute something to the community. When the previous director had stepped down, he’d pressed her to do it. Paul had been in junior high at the time, and she’d been assisting the director. And so she’d done it ever since.