Christmas Joy

by Nancy Naigle

  “That’s just my boardroom cool showing. I was a mess underneath, but when you did that magical Christmas snowflake wish stuff, I felt like I finally let my guard down and enjoyed myself.” Did I just say that out loud? Shut up. “So, you said you were having a problematic day. What’s going on with you?”

  “The volunteer who was supposed to handle all the planning for the annual Extreme Gingerbread Bake-off—”

  “Oh no. Backed out on you? I hate that.”

  “Not exactly. Ashley would never just have backed out. It was Mother Nature interrupting.”

  “How so?”

  “Ashley went home to visit her mom and went into labor. A month early, so I can’t fault her for timing.”

  “Hardly.”

  “She and the baby are both doing fine, but they’ll stay at her parents’ through the holidays. Exciting for them, but I’m left to find someone else to finish up what she was going to be handling. I can’t do it myself, because I helped my mom with her entry this year—disqualifying me from judging. Plus, I’m already up to my ears in things to do.”

  “Good thing you don’t have to bother with the decorations here, then.”

  “Actually, I’d much rather work on these decorations. Event planning really isn’t my strong suit. I’m a numbers guy. Detail oriented on money and such, and handy. I can fix anything. But when it comes to planning an event like that … not so much.”

  “Girl stuff.”

  “Parties? Yeah, pretty much.”

  The light twinkled in his eyes. Joy picked up a cookie and tossed it at him. He caught it midair and took a bite. At least she hadn’t thrown like a girl. “I’d rather be planning,” she said. “And by the way, I’ve got a project plan for the decorations. I’m all set, and starting to get excited.”

  His lips lifted into a smirk, and he leaned into her space. “Maybe I could help you and you could help me.”

  She laughed, letting him linger a little too close.

  With a lift of the brow, he smiled. “I’m serious. What do you think?”

  No was on her lips, but what came out was, “We could do that.” Was it the manly mix of pine and sugar, or those eyes that were sucking the smarts out of her? She could not fall for this flirty numbers guy. She’d be heading back home in a couple of weeks, but what could it hurt to prove to him that she really did know how to organize a dazzling party?

  “Great. Well, I guess I’d better leave.” But he stood there for a moment too long, too much like he was hoping she’d ask him to stay.

  And as she watched him leave, she wished she’d asked him to stay and finish baking cookies—she already had those extra snowflake wishes on her side.

  He turned back to her from the door. “Let’s work out the details. Tomorrow? You can stop by the hospital, or I can come by here after work.”

  And just like that, she took on a new project—or traded duties, really. Depending on how you looked at it.

  She walked him out, standing at the door as he got into his truck.

  The chilly night air wrapped around her as she waved. Replaying the day in her mind, she locked up. Back in the kitchen, she put away the remnants of the evening’s project.

  Tomorrow, after she sent Molly off to school, she’d prep the remaining cookie batches and mark that off her list.

  Upstairs, Joy quietly peeked into her former bedroom. Molly hadn’t moved since she tucked her in.

  Every floorboard in the old house seemed to creak under her feet as she walked across the hall to change into her pajamas. Exhausted, she set her alarm to be sure she got up in plenty of time to get things going around here before it was time for Molly to wake up.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joy hugged her robe around her as she tried to quietly traverse the squeaking stairs. It seemed like the more she tried, the louder she was. Her body was as tight as if she’d just done an hour of Pilates after the stealth trip down only a dozen steps. She relaxed once she took that final step into the living room and headed to the kitchen to make coffee.

  And after all that careful maneuvering to keep from waking up Molly, the little girl was already sitting at the table, dressed for school.

  “Hey, you’re up early,” Joy said. There was still a lot of time left to go before that school bus would come and pick her up. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

  “Yes. Mom says I’m an early bird.”

  Molly had already poured herself a cup of milk. “Well, we might have time to go to the community tree this morning if you’d like to do that.”

  “Can we?”

  That little smile tugged at Joy’s heart. “Sure. I can feed the animals after you go to school. I think Jack, Nanny, and Waddles will understand. It’s just one morning.” Besides, it wouldn’t be completely awful if she happened to run into Ben again. “Should we make a fresh batch of cookies and decorate one to place on the community tree?”

  “Yes!”

  Joy pulled out a stick of the frozen cookie dough and sliced enough pieces for a baker’s dozen of cookies and two larger slices to cut into shapes for the community tree ornaments.

  “If you pull out that bottom drawer by the sink, there should be some cookie cutters in there. See if you can find us two extra-special Christmas shapes.”

  Molly ran across the kitchen, her shoes slapping across the tile, then plunked down on the floor and started pulling things out of the drawer.

  Joy set the oven temperature and laid a clean cookie sheet on the counter. Their aprons from last night were draped over one of the chair backs.

  “What do you think? Are our aprons too messy to wear again today?”

  Molly laughed, showing a missing front bottom tooth. “We’d be messy before we started.”

  “True. That would not be good. Hang on.” Joy walked down to Ruby’s bedroom. Ruby had a stack of T-shirts from events going as far back as the nineties, probably older if Joy had taken the time to really peruse them. She took the top two from the stack and carried them back into the kitchen. She slipped the first one over Molly’s head and then pulled one on herself. “There. We’re ready.”

  Joy let Molly shape the thin slices into little crescent moons while Joy found the rolling pin, then carefully and neatly sifted confectioners’ sugar into an eight-inch square baking dish for the finishing work.

  “All done,” Molly said, wiping her hands on her T-shirt.

  “Perfect timing.” Joy slid the tray of crescents into the oven, set the timer, and then joined Molly at the counter.

  Joy picked up the rolling pin and said, “Okay, now we’re going to sprinkle just a little of this confectioners’ sugar on the rolling pin, then push down and roll the pin forward to flatten out our two big pieces of dough. I’ll do one and you can do the other.”

  Molly watched intently as Joy rolled out a level four-inch round, then let Molly give it a try.

  “Good job,” Joy said. “It took me forever to learn how to do that.”

  Molly picked up the two metal forms, one in each hand. “Christmas star or stocking.”

  “Awesome. Which shape do you want for your cookie?”

  “The stocking,” Molly said.

  “Okay, then I’ll decorate a star.” Molly handed Joy the stocking cookie cutter and they both pressed the metal forms into their dough at the same time. Without a word, Joy let Molly learn by following along. They swept away the extra dough, then carefully pushed the shapes from the cookie cutters.

  “I’ll put these on the cookie tray too,” Molly said.

  “Uh-oh. We forgot one thing.”

  Molly’s head tilted. Joy could almost see the thought bubble full of question marks above the little girl’s head.

  “We need a hole in those cookies so we can put a ribbon through them to hang them from the Christmas tree.”

  “Oh yeah!” Molly frowned. “How do we do that?”

  Joy held up a finger and gave Molly a wink. “I have an idea.” She went to the pantry and got a straw. She cu
t the straw into two pieces and handed one to Molly. “I think we can just use these straws to twist a circle out. Let’s see if it works.”

  “Taa-daa,” Molly said, throwing her arms in the air. “It worked.”

  “Sure did.” And just then, the timer went off. “Hope this batch came out. Cross your fingers.”

  Molly crossed her fingers and scrunched her face as Joy slid the cookies out of the oven. “They’re perfect.”

  “Mr. Ben helped with the oven. Now all the cookies will be perfect all the time.”

  “I hope so.”

  Molly climbed down from the chair in front of the counter. “Can I put our special ones in the oven?”

  “Sure, but let’s be careful.” Joy grabbed two red oven mitts. “Hold out your arms.”

  Molly held her hands out like she was ready to do a Frankenstein walk, and Joy slid the mitts over her hands, covering the little girl’s arms clear up past her elbows.

  “Okay,” Joy said, holding the tray of cookies out and resting it in Molly’s hands. “Got it?”

  “Yes,” she said with a nod.

  Joy swung the oven door open and slid the middle rack out.

  Molly pushed the tray of cookies into the warm oven, then stepped back and clapped her mitts together. “Eleven minutes,” she said.

  “Exactly.” Joy set the timer and went to the pantry to see what kind of icing or holiday decorating goodies Ruby had stashed away. In a short time, she and Molly filled the kitchen table with sprinkles, icing, edible glitters and dots, and even fancy confetti and silver dragées.

  They worked the first batch of cookies through the confectioners’ sugar.

  Once the two cookies were done, Joy set them on the cooling rack while she and Molly filled a plate with the sand tarts they’d just finished. Molly stretched red plastic wrap taut across the top.

  They cleaned up their mess while the stocking and the star cookies cooled, and then put all their attention on decorating them with extra details for the community tree.

  “We need our names on these,” Molly said. “Will you help me? I don’t write pretty.”

  “I bet you write beautifully, but I’ll help. Which color?”

  “Blue.”

  Joy took the top off the gel icing. “You hold it, and then I’ll help.”

  Molly took the tube in her hand, and Joy wrapped hers around Molly’s tiny fingers. She scrolled out the letters in a quick, even flow. Then she grabbed the red and wrote JOY across the star ornament she’d made.

  “What do you think?” Joy nudged Molly. They looked beautiful.

  “I love them.”

  “Let’s take a picture. We’ll send it to Ruby and your momma.” Joy grabbed her phone, and Molly held the cookie ornaments and mugged for the camera.

  Less than an hour later, they had thirteen cookies on a Christmas-patterned plate covered in red plastic wrap, along with their community tree ornaments on a separate plate. “We still have time to go to the hospital and put our ornaments on the tree if you want to.”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Great. Then get all your stuff. We’ll take it with us, just in case we’re running late.”

  “Okay.” Molly ran out of the kitchen and then appeared back in the doorway. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie.” Joy watched Molly race out of the room again, her footsteps pounding up the stairs to gather her things. I should be thanking you.

  She and Molly loaded Molly’s things in the backseat and then carefully set the plates of cookies on the floorboard to keep them from sliding around as they drove.

  Joy swooped into the hospital parking lot, her heart doing a jig when she spotted Ben’s truck, already parked in the same spot as the other night. And since Molly’s bus wasn’t due to arrive at Ruby’s for almost an hour, Joy had plenty of time to stop in and deliver those cookies personally.

  “Want to take our cookies to Ben to say thank you before we put our ornaments on the community tree?”

  “Yes, and maybe he can come with us.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice. She handed Molly the plate with the community tree ornaments on it and balanced the other in her hand with her keys. Molly grabbed for Joy’s hand as they walked into the hospital.

  “Excuse me,” Joy said to the young lady at the reception desk. “I need to meet with Ben Andrews.”

  “He’s expecting you?”

  Not officially, but then she’d always found acting as if she belonged worked best, and he had said they’d connect today on a plan to swap out tasks. “Yes, he is.”

  “Down the hall, third door on the left. His secretary can help you.”

  “Thank you.” Joy turned and headed down the hall with Molly at her hip, but when they entered the office space labeled ACCOUNTING, no one was at the secretary’s desk. Joy could see the lights on in the office down the hall, so she wandered in.

  “Knock, knock,” Joy said as she poked her head into the office. Ben sat at his desk, reading something on his computer screen. “Your secretary wasn’t at her desk. Hope you don’t mind me coming on back.”

  “Joy? Sure. Come in.” Ben stood from behind his desk, looking handsome in a single-breasted charcoal suit with a classic notched lapel. The initials on the cuff of his sleeve didn’t go unnoticed as he reached forward to put his ink pen in the cup on his desk. “Hi, Molly.”

  The office wasn’t fancy, but the furnishings were of high quality. The desk and bookcase were both made of a deep-stained wood. Silver frames glimmered in carefully placed spots next to books and binders on the shelves showing relationships and vacations. Memories. An African violet with bright purple flowers brightened the spot on the table between the two chairs facing the desk. “We brought you a little present.”

  “Cookies!” Molly shouted. “And we’re putting these pretty-shaped ones on the community tree.” She teetered side to side as she extended her plate for Ben to see. Her little smile so wide that her lips practically disappeared.

  Bringing him cookies had seemed like a nice gesture early this morning, but Joy was finding it a bit awkward now.

  Ben took the covered plate from her. “If you’d brought these a couple of days ago, I’d have had them tested for poison before I ate them.”

  Joy felt a blush rise in her cheeks. “Sorry I pounced on you that first night. And then again over the ornament. Neither was your fault. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “I like a girl who says what’s on her mind.”

  “Then you just hit the jackpot.” Did I just say that out loud? “The holidays always get me a little sideways, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Honestly, if I had it my way, I’d just hibernate starting the week of Thanksgiving and wake up after the New Year’s ball has dropped.”

  He sat on the edge of his desk. “Really?” His easy smile lifted to his eyes, and she could make out the well-muscled outline of his biceps under the high-collared white shirt and jacket. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who really wished they could miss Christmas.” He smiled at Molly. “You don’t want to miss Christmas, do you?”

  “No way. Never. No sir,” Molly said.

  Joy pointed her thumbs toward her chest. “Now you have. But I’m one heckuva project manager, and my lack of enthusiasm for the holiday will not impact my ability to produce the best house on the infamous cookie crawl, or help you with your event.”

  “That’s good, because I need your help. May I?” Ben pulled back the wrap from the plate. “These look great, but there’s something missing.” He grabbed Molly’s hand and started for the door. “Got a minute?”

  “Sure. Well, yeah. But where are we going?” Joy triple-stepped to catch up with them.

  They’d already cleared the door to the hall. By the time she was at his side, Ben had pulled the badge from his belt and the door to the cafeteria, which appeared to be closed, opened. “We need ice-cold milk, and it just so happens we have the best cold milk around. After you, l
adies.”

  Joy walked inside, and Ben stepped in front of her and pulled out two chairs at the nearest table, putting the plate of cookies right in the center. Rubbing his hands together, he glanced between the two and asked, “White or chocolate?”

  “Chocolate?” Molly said, glancing hesitantly in Joy’s direction.

  “Me too,” Ben said.

  “Then make it three.”

  “I like smart girls,” Ben said with a wink. He stepped away, but was back in jiff with three fogged glasses of chocolate milk forming a triangle in his grasp.

  Molly took a sip of hers and then tugged on Ben’s sleeve. “Can I go look at the decorations over there?”

  Ben looked to Joy for an answer.

  “Oh yeah, sure. That’s fine, Molly. We’ll be right here.” Joy watched Molly skip across the room, and then turned back to Ben, who was practically staring at her. She ran her hand through her hair. Recognizing her own nervous habit, she put both hands around her glass to keep them still.

  Ben raised his glass. “This is a divine current-year pasteurized milk. Perfect with home-baked treats. Cheers.”

  “A regular Food Network host.” She took a sip. “Cheers.”

  “Well, my mom does happen to own the bakery in town. I’m a quick study.”

  “You are full of surprises, Ben Andrews. First, you impress me with the sugar test, and now with perfect food pairings. You know a little bit about everything, don’t you? I guess you’re more than just the average suit.”

  They clinked their glasses and dived in. Ben asked, “What do you have against suits?”

  She opened her mouth and then shut it again. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just because I work with them all day long. And accountants are normally kind of quiet guys. Aren’t you?”

  “Maybe I’ll change your mind.” He handed a cookie to her, and then took one for himself. “So tell me, how in the world does a girl named Joy dread the holidays?”

  Biting her lip, she looked away. It was so much easier to just ignore the holidays and pretend the bad things had never happened. Dealing with them just brought more pain. She glanced back over to him. He sat. Patient. Quiet. Sincere. “My dad left us around Christmas one year. Christmases were never the same without him. That’s when Mom and I moved here to live with Ruby and my uncle George. Then a couple years later, my mom died. At Christmastime. It’s not a happy time for everyone.” Her heart clenched, and she could see the sorrow in Ben’s eyes. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. Just to understand. And what she saw in his face right this minute made her feel vulnerable. She wished she could rewind those words. Trying to compensate, she said, “Besides, people waste time and money on gifts just for the gifts’ sake. And more often than not, they can’t even really afford it. How can that be good? Quite frankly, I don’t want all that hanging over my head.”