by Nancy Naigle
* * *
So at his grandmother’s insistence, Ben had left work early to get home, load Ruby’s Christmas trees in his truck, and deliver them. It was a cold day, so it was just as well to get the chore done early and get back home. When he drove up to Ruby’s farmhouse, the bright red door looked naked for this time of year without a wreath. Well, as naked as bright barn red could look. Like Ruby, it was bold. Nothing subtle about it.
Usually by now, Ruby would have had the whole porch decked out in greenery and lights. He’d come to believe that Ruby used the wreath as a hint to tease whatever clever theme she’d come up with for the year. But tonight there wasn’t the first hint of anything Christmassy in place. If this were a hint at a theme, the theme might be The Year Without a Christmas.
He knocked on the door and stepped back, trying to decide whether to act surprised to see Joy or cop immediately to the fact that he’d already figured out that she was the girl who’d skewered her car on the tailgate of his truck. Didn’t take a rocket scientist. Especially with her car sitting in the driveway with the big can-opener-looking slice out of the back quarter panel.
Who was he fooling? It was clear as day that he wanted to see her again. Otherwise, he’d just have put Ruby’s trees next to the barn in a trough of water and left like he usually did. Then when she was ready to put them up, she’d call for help … or not.
He brought his hands to his mouth and blew into them. He smelled like a pine tree, but there were worse things to smell like, he guessed. After standing there an awkwardly long amount of time, he raised his hand and rapped three more times on the door, louder this time. But instead of footsteps, he heard the sound of something breaking on the other side.
He didn’t even think twice, just tried the door handle, which turned easily in his hand, then ran inside.
“Joy? Are you okay?” He did a quick sidestep move he’d been known for back in his high school football days as quarterback for the Mustangs, only this time, instead of a football player, he was dodging cardboard boxes strewn from one side of the room to the other.
Did someone ransack the place?
He pivoted toward the kitchen, then noticed the pretty strawberry blonde sitting on the floor of the living room among opened boxes of holiday decorations.
She folded her empty hands to her lap and slumped. “You scared me.”
“Me?”
She raised her gaze from the broken glass in front of her. “The pounding at the door. You startled me.” She averted her gaze from his. Looking toward the ceiling. “Why is it whenever you’re nearby, something goes wrong? You’re bad luck in a good suit.”
“I knocked.”
“More like a battering ram.”
“You didn’t answer the first time. I thought something was wrong.”
The bad luck she was experiencing wasn’t his fault. But she did seem to be having a run of it. “Did you drag all these boxes out of the attic by yourself?”
“No, the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny stopped by to help out. You just missed them.”
Nothing wrong with her sense of humor. “Sorry if I scared you when I barged in. I could have helped you with all these boxes. I put them in the attic for Ruby last year. Some of them are heavy.” It had taken him the better part of a day to label and load all those boxes in the attic for Ruby last year. If he’d thought anyone else would have to manage them, he would have suggested smaller boxes.
“They were heavier than I thought, but look—” She gestured at the boxes around the room. “—I got them all down.” She straightened her back and twisted. “I did take some Tylenol.” Joy picked up a yellowed Christmas card and its red envelope from the floor beside her and began sweeping at the broken pieces of what was left of the glass ornament.
“Let me help you.” Ben stooped next to her and swept the green glass shards into a pile with one of the box tops lying nearby.
“I’ve got it,” she said quietly as she picked up a larger piece, then bumped her hand into his. “Ouch!” She squeezed at the prick to her finger. “Stop helping me, or I might end up dead!”
“I take it this ornament had special meaning.”
“It was my mother’s favorite.” Her voice was fragile and shaking.
“I guess she’ll be upset.”
“Not likely. She passed away twelve years ago.”
“Oh.”
“It’s fine. It’s an ornament. Just one decoration.” She sat back on her heels. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“Not at all. Everyone has a favorite ornament. They bring back memories. Not a thing wrong with that.”
“My mom and I hung that ornament together on the tree every year.” She turned her hand to keep the blood from dripping to the floor. “We’d spend an hour just searching for that perfect spot where it could be seen from every angle, and the lights would shimmer and reflect the pretty color.”
“You better go get that cleaned up. I’ve got this.”
He watched her race-walk into the kitchen, her rear swishing as she negotiated the maze of boxes. She was even prettier in the daylight. Unsure of what exactly to do with the mess, he swept the thin broken glass into the yellowed envelope she’d dropped.
“There’s a trash bag next to the chair,” she called from the kitchen.
He started to toss the envelope into the trash, but something kept him from doing so. Instead he shoved it into his coat pocket.
“Can I help you with some of this other stuff?” he said, hoping she could hear him over the running water.
She stepped back into the living room with a paper towel wrapped around her fingers. “I overreacted. I’m sorry. Just leave it. I’ll get it after I find a bandage.”
But the tears in her eyes contradicted her words. His gut wrenched. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like when he was faced with holidays without his mom, or any member of his family, for that matter. Family was the best part of the whole season.
This wasn’t what he’d had in mind for his quick visit at all. Making her cry was not part of the plan.
“I already got it. Go on and finish tending to your hand.”
Joy stepped back into the kitchen. The water running in the sink wasn’t loud enough to camouflage her sniffles, though. He busied himself, stacking some of the boxes near the bookcases at the far end of the room, clearing a path.
Joy came back looking composed. “Is this about your truck?”
The envelope in his coat pocket taunted him. “No. Actually, I came by to lend a hand.”
She gave an anxious little cough.
“Not starting off so well?”
“What would make you think I need a hand with anything?”
“My grandmother is Ruby’s best friend. She runs the holiday home tour. You might have heard of it. The Crystal Christmas Cookie Crawl?”
“You’re Shirley’s grandson?”
“Yes.”
“That event seems to be the talk of the town. I guess she didn’t tell you that I said I had it under control when she tried to offer your services before.”
No sense getting her all riled up again. Better to play stupid. “It’s a pretty big deal around here. Everyone in town will show up. This place is the main attraction of the event. Ruby and I have been working together on it for the past seven years.”
“Seven years?”
“Guess she hasn’t mentioned that we’ve won all those years either.”
“Must have slipped right by.”
“Well, we have a system. In fact, I think that’s why we’re undefeated for the last seven years.”
“Undefeated?”
“The Golden Wreath is up for grabs.”
She looked hesitant.
“Um, yeah.” He grabbed her good hand and walked her into the dining room. “See. There in the china cabinet, on the top shelf, is a lovely gold and crystal trophy. That.”
“I see. A coveted award, I take it.”
“Yes, and my grandmother asked me to come get t
hings started since Ruby isn’t around. So here I am.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you again, Ben. But I told her I didn’t need any help with the Christmas stuff.”
“I’m pretty handy.”
The left edge of her mouth tugged into a half smile and her eyes narrowed. “You’re Handy Andy?”
Ben lolled his head back. He hated it when Ruby called him that.
“I thought you said your name was Ben. That is what you told me, isn’t it? The night I accidentally—”
“Plowed into my truck? Yeah. My name is Ben. Ben Andrews. You know how Ruby is. That whole Handy Andy thing is just her way of torturing me. She’s like that.”
“Yeah. She is.” Joy folded her arms across the sweatshirt that had a faded high school Mustang mascot screened across the front. Bowing her head, she said, “Sounds like you know her better than I do—even though I’m her family.”
He detected a note of guilt in her tone. “No. Of course not. I mean I’ve been helping her with holiday decorations and any little things she needs repaired throughout the years that she can’t handle. Which I’m sure won’t surprise you isn’t all that much. But we’re friends. Close.”
“I see.”
“Not family. But close. But you haven’t ever been around at the holidays. I’d have remembered you for sure.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Not really.”
Joy’s face tightened. “I have a pretty demanding career. In Washington, D.C.”
“Ruby brags about you all the time. Market research, right?”
Her stance softened just a bit. “Yes.”
“I’m not sure I even know what that means.”
“Basically, we find out what people are buying, and what can be done to make them buy more of it. I spend most of my time crunching data and statistics to be able to do all of that.”
“I bet that’s interesting.”
“I think so. What is it you do when you’re not doing handyman work for my aunt?”
He pushed a hand into his pants pocket. “I work over at the hospital.”
“Doctor?”
“I’m a numbers guy.”
She didn’t look convinced. “You sure work odd hours.”
“I do what needs to be done, but it definitely increased our chances of meeting.”
“Well, I’m sure my aunt appreciates your help. Me, on the other hand, I’ve got things under control. And I’m sure you are a busy man.”
“Really, because it looks like kind of a mess.” He glanced around the room. “No offense, but I’m a great organizer.”
“As am I.” She bunched her lips, her face still pretty with the scowl. “Well, usually.” She glanced around the room, unable to contain a laugh. “I may have gotten carried away getting boxes down.” She looked at him, their eyes holding. “Was there a reason you came by?”
“Okay, well, I brought Ruby’s trees over.” He tipped his head toward the barn. “I need to make a fresh cut and put them in the trough of water like we usually do. It’ll help keep them fresh until it’s time to put them up. There’s a lot to do with the livestock, I could—”
“Them?”
“What?”
“You said you need to put ‘them’ in the trough. How many trees did you bring?”
“The usual. Three five-foot and two seven-foot trees. It’s what we do every year. I mean a different theme, and sometimes she sets them up in different rooms, but always five. She mixes things up with the decorations so the people who come through here will be wowed. But we always do five trees.”
“She’s crazy to have so many.” Her eyelashes batted as if she was taking in and considering the information. “I’ve got Ruby’s list, and now I guess some of those notes make more sense if it’s multiple trees. But is it really necessary?”
“It’s a lot. Folks around here kind of expect that from her now. Which is why I’m here to help.”
“It is a lot, but I’m sure I can take care of this and the animals just fine. Thank you, but no thank you. I will not be needing your help.”
“Boy, you’re more hardheaded than your aunt. It’s just a helping hand.”
“I’m quite capable of handling some Christmas decorating. Or even a lot of it. I’ve got nothing but time while I’m here. And pardon me if I’m taken aback by the offer, but I’m used to taking care of myself.”
“This isn’t a little decorating. To win the Golden Wreath takes a lot of effort. Time and effort, and planning.”
“I’m an excellent planner.”
“And patience.”
“Well, I may bring new skills to the project.”
She was not only hardheaded, she was just clueless. Shirley was right. A person didn’t just march in and win this competition. “I really hate to lose our winning streak because some drop-in niece is too hardheaded to accept some help.”
“Drop-in?” Her face flushed red, and her teeth clenched. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now.”
“This is important to your aunt and my grandmother. At least let me give you a hand to keep my grandmother from coming unglued.”
She paused, as if ready to argue. “I promise I’ll make sure that everyone is blown away by just how lovely this place will look. Including your grandmother.”
“You do know there’s an open house that goes along with it, right? Baked goods, punch, singing. I mean, you’ve never taken the time to come. Don’t deny it. If there’s one thing I would have remembered, it would have been you. You might be hardheaded, but you are beautiful, and I don’t forget a pretty face.”
“Okay, that might be a bit more than I’d expected, but I think I can handle it.”
Wasn’t like he had the extra time to help her anyway. His plate was more than full already. And he sure didn’t have the time for a pretty know-it-all girl either. He walked to the door, which still stood wide open. “Merry Christmas.”
Chapter Fifteen
Joy peeked through the break in the curtains, watching until Ben cleared the driveway and was out of sight. Who did he think he was, just inserting himself into their business? And Shirley was relentless. Whom would she send next? If there was one thing Joy was more determined than ever about now, it was that she’d make this year’s home tour look like fireworks compared to a candle. And she did know Ruby. She loved her and maybe she hadn’t quite been around as much as she should’ve or could’ve, but her career was important too.
She glanced around the room. Ben was right. It was a mess, but she hadn’t expected company. He had some nerve, stacking some of the boxes aside when she wasn’t looking too. There were so many boxes of ornaments, she could have filled a Hobby Lobby and had a sidewalk sale and still had plenty of decorations to jazz up three houses.
Ruby had carefully kept the themes separated. Boxes by color. Boxes by types. And the years noted on some of them. It was the boxes labeled with her own name on them that had gotten her sideways, though. Some were things from her childhood, like the cheerleader ornament and the ornaments she’d made out of bread dough with Ruby one year, but others were things Ruby must’ve decided should fall into Joy’s hands at some point. Things from Ruby’s childhood with Joy’s mom, and other heirloom-type ornaments.
So many memories had come rushing down on her. Memories she thought she’d tucked so far back in her mind that she’d never have to address them, but everything she touched in those boxes came with a price.
A tear.
A heartache.
A wish.
Her phone rang from somewhere in the mess. She leaned forward, looking and listening until she finally spotted her phone on top of a box labeled PEACOCK 2014. Renee’s smiling face filled the screen. She pressed the button with a smile. “Hey, Renee. How’s everything at the office?”
“Great, but I’m missing you! Things aren’t nearly so fun without you around.”
“I miss you too.”
“You holding up out there in the
country?”
“I’m settling into a routine. I think. Well, except for this guy who keeps popping up everywhere.”
“Are you talking about Todd? Don’t tell me he showed up there too.”
“‘Too’?”
“He came by the office first thing this morning, looking for you.”
Joy searched for a plausible explanation, but the best she could offer was, “Maybe he was there to see someone else. I don’t know, but no. I’m talking about the guy I wrecked into the other night. He keeps showing up everywhere.”
“Wrecked? Oh yeah, that’s right, I meant to ask you about that. You glossed right over it the other day when we were talking about that kid. I hung up thinking, did I hear what I think I heard?”
“Long story. I backed my car into his truck.”
“You met by accident. Oh yeah, that’s not cliché.”
“I know. A regular Hollywood meet-cute. Right?”
“Destiny, maybe,” Renee teased. “Is he good-looking?”
“Yes. No. Well, not exactly cute. More like super hot. Unfortunately, he’s even more annoying than he is hot. Besides, long-distance relationships never work. So, who cares?”
“Not that anyone but you brought up anything about relationships, but actually, a lot of long-distance relationships work. They just take some creativity. But then again, you’re not looking for a relationship. And even if you were, you’re right, you’d never take that kind of a risk. You like things clean and neat. Simple.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The words came out way more defensive than she’d intended.
“Don’t get all riled up. I just mean you lead a safe existence. No chance of being disappointed. No big risks.”
“I do not.” She felt her composure wavering. Was she being safe? Or just smart?
“Yes, you do play it safe, but don’t sweat it. It’s who you are. Nothing wrong with that.”
But maybe there was something wrong with that. She’d considered herself a risk-taker all her life, but maybe she was fooling herself. She’d prided herself in thinking she was a bit fearless, living the perfect life and doing everything she wanted. Had the things she wanted changed, or had she never really let herself dream? Risk in business was a whole other thing from personal risk.