by Nancy Naigle
“Exactly.”
“I’m glad you happened to town when you did,” he said.
Her heart giddyupped, and when she turned, she met his gaze, and there was more than just appreciation in his eyes. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
The hour’s drive didn’t feel nearly so long with someone to talk to, and Ben was excited about her plans on how to gather and tally the votes from the community on the Extreme Gingerbread Bake-off entries. When they got to the rehab center, Ruby was sitting in her room watching TV, surprisingly. “Knock, knock.”
Ruby’s face lit up. “Well, look who’s here.”
“Hi, Aunt Ruby.” Joy leaned forward and kissed Ruby on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I see the two of you together.” That impish grin on Ruby’s face made it clear that her wheels were already turning.
“We’re not—” Joy started to explain.
Ruby waved off Joy’s debate. “Ben, you get over here and give me an update. I knew the two of you would figure out how to work together. Are we going to win again this year?”
Ben nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’d never let you down.”
“Good, because the doctor said that I’m doing so well that I’m sure to be home for the holidays.”
“That’s great!” Joy took a stack of envelopes out of the leather tote she’d carried in. “I brought over all the Christmas cards you’ve received so far. I thought they’d brighten up your room.”
“Thank you, dear. That was so thoughtful.” Ruby thumbed through the stack of unopened cards. “You could have opened them.”
“No, ma’am. That’s a federal offense.”
“Ha. Your uncle George used to say that.”
“I know. I remember.” As Ruby read through the cards, Joy took them from her and placed them in the windowsill one by one.
“And look. This one is from Ben.” Ruby smiled.
Joy turned to Ben, whose cheeks flushed. “You send cards?” Every time she thought she was starting to figure this guy out, he threw another curve ball. She leaned over and picked up the envelope. The address had been handwritten in perfect block letters. Could anyone really be all these good things … and bad luck for her at every turn?
“Just to my special friends.”
Ruby patted Joy’s hand. “Maybe you’ll make the list next year, dear.”
“Maybe?” And why did that sound so appealing all of a sudden?
“What’s in the box? Ben, did you bring those?” Ruby asked as she ripped open the last envelope.
“Not me. This was all Joy.”
“I stopped and got some treats for you and all your friends,” Joy said.
Ruby looked confused for a moment. “I just figured since they were from his mom’s bakery—”
“That’s your mother’s bakery? I thought your mom was a nurse.”
“She was,” Ben said. “A long time ago. She opened the bakery about ten years ago. My sister works there with her.”
“I don’t think you would remember, Joy, but Ben’s mom was one of your mother’s nurses. Our favorite.”
“What?” Ben and Joy both said at the same time.
Ruby smiled gently. “She was such a kind and thoughtful nurse. The best. When Emma died, it was hard on all of us, including your momma, Ben. I think she left nursing not long after that.”
Ben sat down on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t know.”
“Everyone over at Bridgewater Regional fawned over Emma. Her caring heart shone in everything she did. She could light up a room. Your momma, Ben, was about the same age as Emma. They grew so close that winter.”
“I remember her,” Joy whispered. “She arranged for a second bed so I could sleep right in the room with Mom, even though there was barely enough space for a second one.” Those days had been so long. That nurse had been with them to the very end. She’d held Joy in her arms while Joy held her mother’s hands those last few breaths. Ruby had been on the other side of the bed. Waiting.
The memories filled her, the weight of them dragging her down to an all-too-familiar place. “Excuse me.” Joy turned and quickly left the room with tears in her eyes. This was exactly why she never let herself think about that time. It had always been too painful. Still was.
After wandering down the stairs, she slipped into the safety of the chapel and sat in the very back corner, tugging a handful of tissues out of the box in the back of the wooden pew. Just six rows filled the room. But the moment she stepped into the chapel, she felt as if someone had embraced her. Like a warm cloak had been wrapped around her that kept the sadness and worry that seemed to freeze her heart at just enough of a distance to let her breathe again.
Dabbing at her eyes and cheeks, sweeping her salty tears into the rough tissues, she looked at the beautiful stained glass at the front of the chapel. Soft lighting and quiet, except for the memories filling her mind. But in this place, the tears that flowed easily were cleansing tears. She let herself embrace the freedom of not holding back the fear and hurt. So many things had changed over the past week. Priorities seemed to be shifting, and her heart was opening to thoughts she hadn’t even realized she’d carefully stowed away to protect herself. A calming peace filled her as she quieted.
She sniffed back the tears and clutched the tissues in her hand. Joy stared into the backlit colorful scene that filled the entire front wall of the chapel room and was edged by an intricate wooden frame. That frame looked strong. And she felt like that fragile glass, wishing for a strong frame to hold her.
“I miss you, Mom.” And that was the first time she’d uttered those words aloud in a long time. Warm tears stung her eyes and burned her cheeks. “So much. I don’t know how to be happy without you. And I’m so afraid.”
She’d been only seventeen that Christmas. Not even driving yet, and Ruby and George had tried to help her, letting her know she’d always be at home with them. They’d given her freedom that no girl her age should have had, but she’d been so sad that she never abused the privilege. Somehow they’d known that would be the case. And she knew now how thankful she should have been to her aunt and uncle, and that hurt even worse, knowing that she hadn’t appreciated them as she should have. That would have disappointed Mom.
Those high school years were quiet. She didn’t participate in anything. Went to school. Came home. Studied. Lost herself in books of all kinds. In fact, most of the books she’d bought still filled those bookshelves in Ruby’s living room, and up in her own room. The library had been her best friend.
It wasn’t until she landed in Northern Virginia that she’d made any friends, but even still, she kept them at arm’s distance. Joy considered Renee her closest friend, and yet she’d never once gone to her home. Not because she hadn’t been invited, but because she never made the time to accept an invitation. Never made it a priority.
Feeling calmer, she tried to slow her breathing. Gather her composure. And it struck her that the themes in this room were very much like what she’d gathered from the dusty boxes of Ruby’s Christmas pasts. Nature’s Bounty.
“This Christmas is for you, Mom.” Joy lowered her head and clasped her hands.
Her heart felt lighter, but facing Ben and Ruby after she’d run out would be awkward.
Joy walked back down to her aunt’s room. She heaved in a deep breath before walking in.
“You okay, darling?” Ruby looked worried, and Ben stood against the wall, looking like he wasn’t sure what to do. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine. Thank you for sharing those memories. They were good to hear.” Joy looked to Ben, who smiled gently.
“Give me a hug.” Ruby extended her arms and scooted to the edge of the bed.
Joy vowed she wouldn’t miss these hugs from Ruby in the future. The priorities in her life needed reexamining. She wasn’t going to ignore that.
“Good. Ben and I were just talking about the decorations. No details. He wouldn’t g
ive away your surprises, but he assures me that all is on schedule and it will be the best year yet. I can’t wait to see it all.”
She smiled at Ben. “It’s going to be beautiful. But we need to get back to work if we’re going to get everything done on time.”
“Before you go, they are having a holiday gathering next week. Bingo, and a holiday luncheon next Tuesday. Rumor has it, the nurses and doctors are going to do a little talent show for us. I’d love it if you’d come and spend the day. I can show you off to everyone. I’ve told them all about you.”
No doubt. There’ll probably be a lineup of possible suitors if I know Ruby. “I have the MacDonald-Webber gala on Monday night. I’m so sorry that I won’t be back in time.” How was it that everything seemed to happen at the same time? Molly’s pageant and Ruby’s rehab party on the two days she’d be out of town. She hated to disappoint them, but this was an important step in her career. She’d been working toward this for a long time. She couldn’t miss it. “I was going to see if I could get that little 4-H’er to feed the critters for us while I’m gone. It’s just two days.”
Ruby looked noticeably upset. Joy should have had a plan in place before ever bringing up the subject today.
“You have to leave? Maybe I’ll be home.”
“You won’t be, but don’t worry, I’ll get everything handled.”
“I’m sure Tommy can feed the animals. That’s fine. I have a little arrangement with him. He helps me when I need it, and I pay for the feed for his cow. But we’ll need to figure something out for Molly.”
“I’m going to make sure she gets on the bus,” Ben said. “You didn’t mention that part, Joy. You skipped right over it. We already talked it through. I’ll be around doing things for the decorations anyway, and I met Molly a few times while we were baking cookies and putting ornaments on the community tree. It’ll be fine. We have it covered. Right, Joy?”
Joy shot him a look of relief and thanks. How had she been so thoughtless?
Ruby let out an audible sigh. “Thank you both so much. I don’t have many resources, but if it’s one thing I can do, it’s be there for others. That’s why being stuck in this place is so upsetting.”
Giving. It comes so naturally to Ruby. A simple but powerful gift, and yet I came in here without even considering that my leaving would worry Ruby. Thank you, Ben. For thinking on your feet. And for being there to help, even though I’ve fought you every step of the way.
Maybe that “drop-in niece” title fit her a little more than she’d like to admit. But there was time to change that.
Chapter Twenty-four
Ben stood on the sidewalk on Main Street next to his truck, where Joy had dropped him off. As on every Friday night, the sidewalks were buzzing with activity, but with every window on Main Street dressed for the holidays, the townsfolk meandered at a slower pace. People stopped to say hello and catch up.
But even though every window was lit up, and every snowflake danced in icy blue lights framing the picturesque street, he wasn’t feeling the joy he normally did on a night like this. He was underdressed without a coat. He’d stopped in town this morning only to pick up a couple things when he’d run into Joy. Hadn’t really expected to be out all afternoon. The air was crisp and cool, and the street dazzled, but it had been a quiet ride back from the rehab center in Dixon County with Joy. And what had started out as a nice time together ended with an appreciation of how serendipitous their meeting up was.
Realizing now that he and Joy had a connection that preceded their recent introduction had him wondering about destiny and fate. Paths meant to intersect. Maybe that’s why the city girl had somehow tugged at his heart from the very first glance, even though she’d just crashed into his truck. Blamed him for causing her to break that ornament. And battled him at every turn, and yet he’d wanted to be around her even more.
His mother had been her mother’s nurse. What were the odds? Probably not all that bad in a town the size of this. But then the two of them crossing paths nearly twelve years later, those were very different odds.
Was it always destiny that they would meet one day?
Seeing the pain in Joy’s eyes had hurt him right down to the tender inside of his own heart, making it feel heavy and dark. He better understood why Joy tried to avoid that sorrow, but he also wanted to help her feel the joy she’d been missing.
And that broken ornament. It hadn’t been his fault. He’d only knocked on the door after all, but her reaction made more sense now. It hadn’t been about him at all.
He chased away a chill by shoving his hands in his pockets and lifting his shoulders against the chilly breeze until he reached the front of his mother’s store. The familiar smells inside the bakery always made him feel like he was a kid again. Mom had always loved to bake. Even when she was busy raising him and his siblings, juggling a nursing career, and keeping Dad appeased with home-cooked meals, she somehow had managed it all, and she’d always seemed happy to do it.
“Mom here?” he asked his sister, Kendra.
“In the back. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” He shuffled to the back of the store, where his mother was putting finishing touches on a four-tier wedding cake. He could just barely see her behind the massive cake. His mom was still pretty, and how she stayed so clean and coiffed in the middle of the heat from the ovens and all the sugar and flour, he never had figured out. The cake was fancy. Gold gift boxes stacked perfectly one astride the next, adorned with ivory ribbon bows, diagonal stripes, and polka dots. An elegant bow of ivory chocolate rose from the top layer with long ribbons that looked as soft as real satin.
“That’s beautiful.”
“Thanks, son. I didn’t expect to see you around tonight.” She carefully dotted the box on the third layer, filling in the empty spots. Her hand was steady, and every fine detail was uniform and precise.
“What flavor?”
“White cake with alternating hazelnut and chocolate filling. A couple that can compromise from the first big decision, the cake, is a couple that will last.”
He should have remembered that when Cecilia hadn’t let him have any input into their wedding plans whatsoever. Wouldn’t even let Mom bake the cake. So he’d been the only one compromising when he asked Mom to make his groom’s cake. It was tastier and prettier than the wedding cake Cecilia had paid way too much money for and had trucked in from Charlotte.
“Words to live by.”
She smiled and then picked up another pastry bag with a wide, flat tip and frosted ribbon-like rows in a crisscrossed pattern on another layer, working her way around the confection. “Simple. The right stuff is never that complex. You know that.”
“I do.” Only he wasn’t so sure he’d ever say those words again. “I was wondering, what made you change careers when you did?”
“It was time. I loved being a nurse, but it was hard on me too.”
“How so? The hours?”
“No. Not that at all. I loved being a nurse, and I didn’t care about the long hours or shift work. But sometimes, no matter what we did, it didn’t matter. God’s will. And sometimes that seems so unfair.” She leaned against the counter, looking as if she were drifting back in time. “I always thought that nursing was my calling. Some girls went to nursing school because their parents encouraged it as a career. Not me. I always wanted to be a nurse. To help people. But it took an emotional toll on me. When I realized I was carrying that home, and it was affecting my ability to be a good mom, I had to make a choice.”
“Do you ever regret making the change? I mean, it had to feel like starting all over.”
“No regrets. I like being a part of people’s happiest moments.”
He knew that feeling. It was the reason he liked staying active in the community, and going above the call of duty to set up extra volunteerism to do the things that were cut from the budget. Maybe holiday décor wasn’t a necessity at the hospital, but it was important. It brought moments of
hope and happiness to those who needed it. That was important. “I went over to see Ruby Johnson today at the rehab center.”
“That was nice of you. How’s she doing?”
“I went with her niece, Joy. She’s here helping out while Ruby is on the mend.”
“Your grandmother mentioned that.”
“Ruby told me something today that I didn’t know.”
“Oh? What’s that?” She piped another row of ribbon, and then reached for a small white prep bowl of gold glittery icing and a paintbrush to add a few highlights that made the ribbon look three-dimensional. Then she piped another ribbon.
“I never knew you were Ruby’s sister’s nurse.”
“Emma?” She paused, a slight smile playing on her lips. She set her pastry bag down. “I was more than her nurse. We’d become friends. She was such a beautiful person. She changed who I was, just by knowing her.”
“She was special.” Like Joy.
“So special. Why are you asking all these questions? That was a long time ago.”
“I don’t know. Because of meeting Joy, I guess.”
“You like her?”
“I don’t really know her.”
She let out a soft laugh, and that face she made when she knew he wasn’t telling the whole story.
“Fine. She’s … intriguing.”
“Intriguing. That’s good. I’m not surprised. Her mom, Emma, was the same way. An unforgettable lady.”
“Were you friends before she was in the hospital?”
“No. We met when she was sick. We bonded immediately.”
“It must have been hard.”
“Losing patients is part of the job, but it’s never easy. If being a nurse taught me anything, it’s that life is fragile. It doesn’t matter how good a person you are, or how much money you have, or how well connected you are … life begins and ends based on something that is out of our hands. And sometimes it’s unfairly short.”
“Do you remember Joy?”
“Of course I do. The most beautiful strawberry blonde girl. So afraid. Rightly so.” His mother’s eyes were misty and wistful. “It was the year that Emma died that I started the community tree as a way for people to associate something good with the hospital. The first ornament I put on that tree was a heart that had the name Emma on it.”