Christmas Joy

by Nancy Naigle

  “Why?”

  “I can’t really put my finger on it. Independent. Thoughtful. Determined. Capable. Funny. Absolutely gorgeous. Do I need to go on?”

  “I think you left out hardheaded and opinionated.”

  “There’s that, but they are kind of cute on you.”

  She swatted his arm, and he caught her by the wrist, pulling her hand to his heart. He wondered if she could feel his heart beat faster. He’d never met someone who made him feel like this before. Like he needed to know her more. No matter what.

  Nearly breathless, she said, “Thank you.”

  “For the kiss?”

  “For reminding me what butterflies feel like.”

  He’d felt a swirl himself. “Thank you for letting me make them take flight.” He took her hands into his own. “I like kissing you. Besides, we make a pretty good team.”

  “I never really thought of kissing as a team sport.” Only she was kidding. He could tell by the way her eyes twinkled and that mischievous tug of her smile that made her eyelashes nearly touch her cheeks.

  “Well, then, you haven’t been doing it right, but I’m an excellent teacher.”

  “I bet you are.”

  And if he didn’t stop right now, then there wouldn’t be any stopping at all, and he knew he needed to take this slowly. “I have something for you.”

  “You do?”

  He’d gone back and forth with himself about whether to give her the gift now or wait. But the timing felt right. “Wait right here.”

  She looked bewildered as he scooted past her and headed for his truck. His heart pounded. Not from the jog to the truck, but because he really hoped she’d like the gift.

  He carried the white glossy box to the door. He hadn’t wrapped it, just added a simple length of red ribbon tied in a bow. As he took each step closer to the barn, he started second-guessing the gesture, but it was too late now.

  She was standing in the doorway of the barn, looking at him. Looking at the box.

  She caught his gaze. “What is this?”

  “You’ll have to open it and see.” He handed her the box.

  Nervously, she moistened her lips. “I don’t have anything for you.”

  “It just something I made. It wouldn’t have the same meaning to anyone else.”

  She seemed to calm a bit, pulling the end of the ribbon, then sitting down and lifting the top off the box.

  The heavy lashes that shadowed her cheeks flew up. “Ben?” She lifted the heart-shaped wooden ornament out of the box by the wire that he’d twisted and shaped himself. Hanging between her fingers, it looked so elegant. “You made this for me?”

  The hours he’d spent turning and shaping that wood into a single heart, rounded like one full of love, had been almost therapeutic. It had been a while since he’d slowed down long enough to work on something so intricate, but this had been important. Inspired work. Something he’d wanted to do. Once he’d finished the heart and it was perfect, he’d been so nervous to take his cutting tools to the center of it. Especially after working so hard to get to that smooth finish. But he’d done it. Carved that smaller heart in the center, where he’d sprinkled those broken green glass ornament pieces and sealed them safely in acrylic.

  Joy could drop this a hundred times and never do it harm.

  “It’s beautiful.” She held the heart in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth surface. “The grain of the wood is so pretty.”

  “It’s olive wood. I rubbed it with Danish oil. That’s what brings out all the lovely dark grains.”

  Her lips parted slightly as if she was going to say something. “The heart in the middle? The green glass? It’s just like—”

  “I felt so bad about that ornament.”

  “Why?” She held the ornament to her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. I overreacted.”

  “Didn’t matter whose fault it was. It was important to you.”

  “How did you—?”

  “When I realized how upset you were, I couldn’t throw away those pieces. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them, but somehow putting them in the trash seemed wrong. I woke up one night and knew I wanted to make that for you.”

  “I will treasure it. It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten.” Her eyes glistened. “Ever.” She motioned him to follow her to the house. Inside she took the ornament stand out of the box and set it on the end table, then hung the ornament. “It’s perfect.”

  “As perfect as you.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you. This is so thoughtful.”

  “That smile is thanks enough.” What he wouldn’t give to see that smile every single day. “And maybe we could meet for coffee after the judging of the gingerbread bake-off tomorrow night?”

  “That would be really nice.” She cocked her head. “Does that invitation stand—win or lose? Because I wouldn’t want to think you’re trying to bribe me.”

  “The invitation definitely stands.”

  A smile trembled over her lips. “Then you’re on. Coffee. Tomorrow night.”

  “Well, I’d better head home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes. You will.”

  As Ben backed out of the driveway, he saw Joy sweep the curtain to one side, watching him leave. He wondered if she was having the same thoughts he was right now. That he wished this morning together could have lasted all day. One could hope.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  A brightly colored banner strung above the entry of the botanical gardens announced the annual Carolina’s Best Flour Extreme Gingerbread Bake-off. Today, Sunday, was the day the community got to cast their votes and the winner was announced.

  Voting would commence at one o’clock, and wrap up at four o’clock. Then Joy’d be done with her commitment here and could start getting ready for her trip back to D.C. for tomorrow night’s gala.

  Dressed in a gingerbread-brown sweater she’d found in Ruby’s closet, and the suit she’d been wearing when she came to town, Joy had actually pulled off a festive look by adding a glittery golden scarf pinned with an adorable gingerbread man ornament.

  All the entries were set up in the theater, which wasn’t really a theater at all, at least not to her. She’d always thought of a theater as having stadium seating and a screen; this was more like a ballroom that had been misnamed. Elegant in an understated way.

  The flour company that employed nearly 40 percent of the community here was the main sponsor of the event, and its PR team was already on-site. “Hi, I’m Joy Holbrook. You must be the PR team from Carolina’s Best Flour.”

  “We are. I’m Phil Finnegan,” said a tall man in a sweater vest. “The guys are hanging the last banner now. Hope you don’t mind that we got here early and got started. We’ve been doing this for so long that we kind of have a system.”

  “No problem.” Could she get any luckier? “I’m going to finish getting everything set up. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “We’re going to put the giant winner’s check behind the podium.”

  “That’ll work, and will you be the one I’ll call up to present it?”

  “I’m your guy.”

  “All right, then.” Joy busied herself giving instructions to the girls who would collect the tickets and hand out the voting coins as the visitors came in; then she went to work gift-wrapping the acrylic boxes next to each of the six entries that were finalists.

  At one o’clock sharp, there was a line clear out the building past the wedding gazebo and the koi pond.

  People in the community were eager to get their chance to cast a vote for their favorite gingerbread creation. Each person traded a food item for a ticket or sprang for the two dollars per person to get their voting coin. The coins were wooden disks that had been stamped with the town logo.

  Joy had arranged for a giant whiteboard on wheels to be brought in, and had already transferred all the judges’ scores to the it so the final calculations could be done live.
It would make for a dramatic and exciting evening. Speaking to groups of people was one of her strong suits. She enjoyed doing it, and this would be a nice shift to something in her comfort zone for once since she’d hit Crystal Falls.

  Throughout the afternoon, Joy took the microphone and announced each of the finalists, and encouraged visitors to cast their coin for their favorite entry.

  An air horn blasted three times, and the contestants took their places next to their creations. The theater was packed with what looked like more people than could possibly live in Crystal Falls.

  Joy smoothed the front of her suit, ready to make the final announcement for the day.

  “Greetings, everyone. Merry Christmas. My name is Joy Holbrook, and I’m so happy to be your hostess this afternoon for the eighth annual Carolina’s Best Flour Extreme Gingerbread Bake-off finalists. We have amazing entries today. You’ve had three hours to look at all of the entries closely and select your favorite. I know it’s not going to be easy to cast your one vote, but if you haven’t done so yet, I need you to do just that … right now. At four o’clock sharp we’ll begin counting votes.”

  People rushed to drop their coins and vote for their favorites.

  Joy went through the list of volunteers and sponsors, then at four o’clock on the dot officially closed the voting. “Okay. That’s it. All voting is complete. Can I get my official helpers out to each station?” Three girls and three boys walked across the stage wearing Crystal Falls Botanical Garden T-shirts and made their way down to the voting boxes.

  “Thank you. Okay. We have six very worthy teams here today. Some beginners, some professionals, but that’s the beauty of this competition—it’s anybody’s to win. For anyone who is a first-timer, each entry was judged the day these amazing creations were set in place. A panel of judges that specialize in this type of baking, and representatives from our sponsors evaluated each entry on the following criteria: originality, execution, theme, and degree of difficulty.”

  The crowd clapped, and there were whistles from the back of the theater.

  “Let me introduce you to each of them. First, from Crystal Falls Lazy Chop House we have Chef Daniel Wallersky. This is Chef Daniel’s first time entering the competition in Crystal Falls. He’s originally from Buffalo, New York, and now calls Crystal Falls his home.”

  The crowd clapped politely.

  “At table number two, we have the mother-daughter team of Sandra and Connie Black. They have family here in Crystal Falls and drove all the way from Myrtle Beach to be a part of this competition. Connie is a recent graduate of Johnson and Wales University in Charlotte. Let’s give them a round of applause.”

  Joy carried the cordless mic and descended the stage, smiling and excusing herself to people as she moved through the crowd.

  “Next, we have the team of cheerleaders from Crystal Falls High School. They’ve used the theme of a sunny Christmas since they are hoping to win this competition today to help fund their trip south to compete in the National Cheerleading Championship Finals this spring. Good luck, ladies!”

  Joy paused as she saw Ben slip into place next to his mother at the last minute. His mother was beautiful. He had her eyes and dark hair. His mom gave his hand a quick squeeze. “At table four, the baking team of Janice and Ben Andrews. You know Janice Andrews from the bakery right here in town, and their extreme design and automation bring something new to baking.”

  A round of applause went up. They were clearly a favorite.

  “Now, for any of you that don’t know these next two gals, you’re obviously a first-timer because I have here in my notes that these two ladies, Rosie and Bella, are not only twins, but they’ve also won this competition for the last two years. Can they hold their winning streak with this year’s entry?”

  The two ladies stepped forward and curtsied as if they’d rehearsed that move a hundred times.

  “And last but not least, a very innovative design from the staff at Funky Flowers, who have integrated edible flowers into their entry. A big hand for them.”

  Joy clapped and let the crowd gain momentum. The excitement in the room was building. The contestants looked nervous. “All right, one more round of applause for all of them.”

  She marched back up to the raised platform, where there was a long table already set with six teams of two in each spot, ready to do the final live count of the entries.

  “Can I have my officials please bring their wrapped voting boxes up to the table?”

  Joy felt a tingle of excitement as she watched the crowd, and Ben smiled and gave her a look of approval. The theater was filled, probably surpassing the fire code limit, and it was beginning to feel a little like a hothouse. She needed to speed this along, else those confection creations were likely to start melting.

  “Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Counters, let’s reveal the votes.”

  The sound of the holiday wrapping paper being ripped from each of the voting boxes filled the room. Cheers filled the room as the level of coins in each of the boxes was revealed. There were only two clear competitors vying for the title, unless the external judges’ scores varied wildly.

  Folks began to speculate. Yelling out the name of the team they thought had won.

  “Not so fast,” Joy said. “We have the external judges’ scores to factor in.” She walked over to the wheeled whiteboard. “On the back of this board, we have all the judges’ scores.” She waved her hand, and one of the volunteers spun the board around to show the scores so far. Nothing was tallied, but it still caused gasps to rise across the crowd.

  “While the teams count and tally your votes today, I’d like to bring Stephanie from the Community Center up here to share with you how much money we’ve raised through this event.” Joy spotted Molly standing next to Ginny near the entrance. She was so glad they’d made it. She could see Molly’s excitement all the way from here.

  Stephanie, a tall, willowy brunette, came up the stairs and took the microphone. “We raised over two hundred dollars in cash, and an amazing sixteen boxes of nonperishable food for the Community Center. That translates into more meals than we’ve ever been able to offer in the past. Thank you for helping us help those in need this holiday season.”

  Joy recalled the moment Margie had asked her to pay two hundred dollars for just two tickets for her kids’ fund-raiser. She’d doled out that two hundred dollars just because she thought it might help her land a promotion. Not for the right reasons. Giving to this cause really meant something.

  A balanced meal was important. Not that the way she ate was a good example.

  The box of peanut butter crackers in Joy’s desk drawer back at MacDonald-Webber was the closest thing to something personal in her office, and even those crackers were probably mocking her right now. They served as Joy’s lunch at least once a week, but didn’t every good southern girl know to keep a stash of Nabs for emergencies? Aunt Ruby had always said so, and she’d never steered Joy wrong.

  Joy pictured those private-school kids in their designer duds, reviewing seasonal menus, then fancy-dressed waiters bringing silver-covered dishes and presenting the children with Nabs instead. They’d probably try to eat them with a fork, and that was just plain wrong.

  But somehow a month’s worth of PBJs for families in this town seemed like a pretty special thing. Without crusts and cut in fours, of course.

  She stepped over to where she’d tucked her purse under the podium, pulled out her checkbook, and wrote a check for two hundred dollars.

  The crowd clapped and Joy let them, but she stopped Stephanie before she left the stage.

  “I’d like to add to your efforts.”

  “Thank you! This is so generous. Make that over four hundred dollars! You just doubled it.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said to Stephanie, then walked back over to the microphone. “Are my counters ready with the final numbers?” Joy scanned the team, getting a thumbs-up from each of them. “Go to it.”


  The team leader walked over and turned the giant wheeled whiteboard around so the crowd could no longer see it. As each team completed their count, they disappeared behind the whiteboard wall. The markers squeaked against the board as they filled in the missing scores and did the final tally.

  Joy scanned the crowd. Molly and Ginny had made their way to the next gingerbread house, and Shirley was talking to a couple looking at Ben and his mom’s entry. Joy’s personal favorite.

  Joy almost dropped her microphone when she saw Todd standing in front of her. A prickly heat ran through her body, and not the good kind.

  He smiled his movie-star smile, but it still didn’t make her glad to see him. She wrapped her hand around the mic and held it to her stomach.

  He looked so out of place in his tailored suit. Then again, she probably had too, the first day she showed up, but she felt more like part of the community now. She could imagine people flocked around Todd’s fancy sports car parked out front. That car cost more than a lot of these people would make this year. He was flashy. That was one thing she could say about Todd, and the women in the crowd hadn’t missed his entrance either. But she knew what was behind the glitz and polish—not much, and he didn’t shine at all compared to Ben.

  The team leader came up to her and handed her an envelope. Joy waved it above her head, taunting the crowd. “This is so exciting. Are you ready for me to announce the winners?”

  Someone in the crowd let out a whistle, and the rest yelled and clapped.

  “I thought so. Let me get the contestants up here, please.”

  When Ben walked up onto the stage, she felt those butterflies again. Once all the contestants lined up on the stage and the crowd settled down, Joy began the announcements.

  “In third place, Chef Daniel Wallersky. Come on up here, Chef Daniel.”

  “In second place, we have Janice and Ben Andrews.” Ben stood next to his mother as she graciously accepted their trophy and prize money. The photographer snapped two pictures and then moved them to the side next to Chef Daniel so they could get a group picture of all the winners.