Christmas at Whisper Beach

by Shelley Noble

  She stopped, surprised at her own thoughts. Run? Maybe. It’s what she did. But to bed? That’s where she was going to run to? Really?

  And in the chasm between wanting to help and wanting to run away, Van had an epiphany and almost laughed out loud. If she was only running as far as back to bed, she’d made some progress in her life.

  And if she could make it, surely she could help Haley.

  She slipped out of the clogs. No reason to clomp over to your potentially first ever heart-to-heart.

  “Mind if I sit down?”

  Haley buried her face and shook her head against her knees.

  Van started to sit.

  “Go away.”

  Now what? Van wondered as she crouched halfway to the floor. “Please?”

  Haley sputtered. Her shoulders vibrated beneath her jacket then a ragged sob sprang from her, startling Van into sitting abruptly and putting her arm around the girl.

  “Go away, go away, go away,” Haley cried between sobs, but since she didn’t try to move away or push Van away, Van stayed put.

  She didn’t have a clue as to what to say. If only someone had followed her out. Like Mom. She’d know exactly what to do to make Haley feel better. Even Granddad would joke her out of it.

  But no one came and the two of them sat there.

  It was kind of peaceful with the tiny halos of light perching like fireflies among the branches.

  Still her rational mind was screaming, Do something. Say something. She didn’t know where to start. So they sat there side by side, looking up at the tree until Van’s neck began to hurt. She shifted on the stone floor. “Isn’t your butt getting cold?”

  Haley hiccupped. Peeked over at Van with one red-rimmed eye. Nodded.

  “You want to go back to the house?”

  Haley shook her head and buried her face again.

  Van looked around. The boys had really done a good job of clearing the place out. Only the boxes of supplies were left, stacked in the corner. Wine-themed decorations she’d ordered online. Dollars to donuts there would be a Christmas tree skirt in one of the boxes. “Hang on.”

  She pushed to her feet. Her legs were already stiff from the cold and she hobbled over to the stack of boxes and rummaged through them until she found a bag that said TREE SKRT. She ripped the bag open and detoured to the thermostat to jack up the heat a couple of degrees.

  Haley hadn’t moved, so Van folded the skirt in half and spread it out on the floor next to her. Haley lifted her butt enough to get onto the skirt.

  Van sat down next to her. “This is kind of cozy, huh?”

  “You’re weird.”

  “I know. I can’t help it.”

  “Do people like you?”

  This was taking a turn she hadn’t expected. “I have a few friends.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’m sure—” Van clamped down on the reassurance. How lame could she be? “That must suck.”

  Haley darted her a look. “It does.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have any?”

  “Just the girls next door and they don’t count.”

  “Why not? Don’t you like them?”

  “I used to.”

  “But not now?”

  Haley shrugged. “They said we were losers. That we were too poor to get a Christmas tree.”

  “A lot of people don’t have Christmas trees,” Van said. “I don’t usually get a tree.” She was too busy decorating other people’s houses to do her own. “Actually last year I did get a bunch of those white branches. They were left over from a client, so I took them home and put them in the umbrella stand by the front door of my apartment. It was sort of like a tree.”

  “That’s pitiful.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you buy a can of Christmas tree smell to spray around?”

  “No. Was that you being sarcastic?”

  Haley gave her a look that said it was.

  Van breathed in the pungent scent of evergreen. “Can’t really duplicate the smell of a real tree, can you?”

  Haley shook her head. “You have two trees.”

  “We do.”

  “We used to always get a tree. But not this year. Momma said she’d see, but I knew that meant no.”

  “Well, maybe she really meant that she’d see.”

  “No she didn’t. All she ever does is work and we still don’t have any money. We never do anything fun. We don’t have nice clothes.” Haley hid her face in her hands. “I said I hated her.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’m such a bitch.”

  Van blinked. How old was this kid?

  “You’re not the first kid to say that. I think mothers get that you don’t mean it.”

  “What if I don’t get to tell her I didn’t mean it? What if she dies? It’ll be my fault.”

  Holy crap.

  “Did you ever tell your mom you hated her?”

  Van thought back. “Probably. I’m pretty sure I did.”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  Van shook her head. She remembered telling her dad that she hated him plenty of times when her mom was still alive. After her mom died, she lost her bravura and just tried to stay away from him. Until recently.

  “And she still likes you?”

  And what to say? She’s dead might push Haley over the brink. “Look, in the morning we’ll ask Mom Enthorpe.”

  “She knows everything, doesn’t she?”

  “Seems that way. I think we should go back to the house or we’re going to have frostbite on our butts.”

  Haley got up. Van stuck out her hand for Haley to pull her up, which she did. Van turned down the heat and finally after they both stopped to look once more at the tree lights, she turned them off, too.

  The moon had come out and cast the snow into a patchwork of white, grays and blues. The air was so cold that their feet crunched as they walked.

  “The air tickles your nose when it’s this cold,” Haley said.

  “It does,” said Van. “It really does.”

  Joe awoke with a start; Van was gone. The sheet beside him wasn’t even warm, which meant she must have been gone for some time. He sat up and peered around the room. No Van. He pushed back the covers and went straight to the window.

  Her car was still in the driveway. Thank God.

  Then he heard footsteps in the hall. He deliberated about going out to meet her or jumping back in bed and pretending he wasn’t being such an idiot.

  Then he heard whispers. He cracked the bedroom door open. Van and Haley were standing at the doorway of the girls’ room. Haley went inside and Van followed her.

  Joe padded barefoot down the hall.

  “You don’t have to be afraid, Haley.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I know. Just, sometimes when I’m afraid, I know I’m safe here. Good-night.”

  “Night.”

  Joe meant to creep away but he wasn’t fast enough. Van’s words had sucker punched him. He didn’t want her to ever be afraid again.

  Van backed out of the room, shut the door and turned right into him.

  “What—?”

  Van put her fingers to her lips and brushed past him. He followed her to their bedroom and shut the door. “What was that all about?”

  Van shivered uncontrollably, jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “I heard her get out of bed. I thought she was getting water so I went to help. But she didn’t stop at the kitchen. I followed her out to the gift shop.”

  Joe pushed the pillows against the headboard and climbed in beside her. “Why?”

  “Why did I follow her?”

  “Why did she go there?”

  “To look at the tree, I think. She had a fight with her mom about a Christmas tree, and she told her mom she hated her. Owen is giving her a hard time. She’s afraid her mom is going to die. She isn’t, is she?”

  “No, at least I don’t think so. Dad is trying to find the grandmother since we do
n’t get a lot of information about Kathy’s condition from the hospital. What did you tell her?”

  “Not much. I said that all kids told their mothers that and it doesn’t mean anything. And that your mom would explain everything in the morning.”

  Joe laughed in spite of the gravity of the situation.

  “Well I wasn’t going to say, ‘Everything will be all right,’ because it might not be. Then she’d never trust anyone again.”

  Joe pulled her close and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “There wasn’t much I could say. I didn’t want to tell her that my mom was dead. It might make her feel worse. And remembering how I felt about my dad just made me feel worse, so I didn’t say anything.”

  “Did you mean it about her not having to be afraid here?”

  “Of course. Would your family turn them away?”

  He shook his head. “What about you?”

  “Would I turn them away? It isn’t my house.”

  “We’ll debate that later. But would you, if it was?”

  She shook her head. “How could I? You didn’t turn me away.”

  And he never would. No matter how infuriatingly skittish she was. But the question was, could he keep her?

  Chapter 9

  When Van came into the kitchen the next morning, Mom and Kayla were the only ones there.

  “I guess I overslept,” Van said.

  “You sleep as long as you need,” Mom said, putting a mug of coffee at her place. Van sat down. She already had her own place at the table, she realized. She’d sat in the same place fifteen years ago.

  It was tempting to believe everything would work out fine. Across from her Kayla was eating a bowl of cereal. With each bite a little milk dribbled down the front of her sweatshirt.

  Van resisted the urge to walk around and stick a napkin under her chin. Children were messy. She’d have to get used to it if she and Joe were going to adopt.

  She stopped, coffee mug halfway to her lips. Slowly she put the mug down.

  “Are you all right, Van? You suddenly look very pale.” Mom put her palm against Van’s forehead. “No temp.”

  “Just tired,” Van managed. Had she actually just thought about adoption? On her own? Thinking about the future with Joe without fighting it? Even if they did get married, they couldn’t live with Mom and Joe Jr. and Granddad forever. And how on earth would Van figure out how to take care of children on her own? Especially with her business and the winery to run?

  Stop fighting it.

  Leave me alone.

  She wanted things to take their course, sort of. Since she’d left home all those years before, she’d made sure she was in control of her life. Managed every detail while still being able to see the whole picture.

  Now all that was going out the window. But could she make that final no-going-back step?

  Mom poured herself more coffee and on her way to her place at the table, she managed to pick up a napkin, wipe it across Kayla’s face and stick it under her chin without slowing down—or so it seemed to Van.

  While you were sitting here thinking about doing it. How could she ever be a wife and mother—adoptive mother?

  The kitchen door opened.

  “Well, look who’s awake,” Mom said.

  Haley stood in the doorway, hair straggly, face puffy, eyes focused on the floor.

  “Come sit down, honey. Do you want cereal? Or would you rather have some eggs or oatmeal?”

  Haley shrugged.

  Mom reached over and pulled out the chair next to Kayla’s.

  Haley glanced at it, hesitated a little longer. “Cereal, please.” And she walked to the opposite side of the table and sat down next to Van.

  Mom started to get up.

  “I’ll get it,” Van said and jumped up. She got a bowl down from the cabinet and placed it in front of Haley. Pulled the milk carton closer to her.

  Van sat down again.

  Haley poured cereal, then milk, her eyes never wavering from the bowl.

  Van glanced at Mom Enthorpe, who quirked one side of her mouth.

  Van had to admit she was a little relieved. After last night she wasn’t sure whether Haley would reject her for letting her see too much of her vulnerability. Next day remorse. Boy, could Van relate.

  “Where are the guys?” Van asked.

  “They went out with the snowplow earlier then called to say they had a few errands to do. I’ve given up on haircuts, so who knows?”

  “Actually, I thought if you don’t need me, I might do a little last-minute shopping.”

  “Sure. You go have a good time.”

  Van glanced over at Haley who was concentrating on her cereal.

  “You feel like a little light shopping?” Van asked.

  At first Haley didn’t move, then slowly she turned her head to look at Van. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you.”

  “I don’t have any money.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got plastic.”

  It was colder than all get out, Joe thought as he and the other two Joes followed Owen in and out of the stand of evergreens. Every time Owen paused, they paused, every time he struck off again they followed.

  They were taking a tree to the Davis house to surprise their mother when she returned home. The hospital had located their grandmother, Charlise. Joe hadn’t mentioned that to Owen or the girls. No one was sure if she would actually show up to take the kids home. Or take care of their mother during her recuperation. They’d all have to wait and see.

  Joe started thinking about a hot cup of coffee. His father mumbled something about Florida and the newspaper.

  Granddad just chuckled. “Come on, ya wusses.”

  Several trees later, Owen stopped. “This one.”

  “Great,” Joe said.

  “Nah, that’s lame,” said Granddad. “This one is better.”

  “That one’s too big,” Owen said. “It won’t fit in our living room.”

  “How about this one?” Joe said. “It’s tall but skinny.”

  The four guys consulted. Agreed. Joe handed Owen the axe, positioned his hands on the handle. “Now remember what I told you.”

  Owen nodded. Planted his feet on either side of the tree trunk.

  “Don’t cut off any toes,” Granddad said and stepped out of range.

  Joe gave him a look.

  While Owen chopped, Granddad kibitzed and gave advice while Joe and his dad watched from the sidelines.

  “You’re going to miss him when he goes back home,” his father said.

  “Yes,” Joe agreed. He was sort of surprised at how much.

  “And if his mother isn’t in a condition to take care of him or the girls? Or worse?”

  “I don’t know. Owen would want to stay with us. I don’t know about the girls, but . . .” Joe shrugged.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t know. It would be a big step.”

  “What does Van say about it?”

  “We haven’t really discussed it.”

  “Well, that’s something the two of you need to resolve before you go much further.”

  “I know, I’m just so afraid of hurting her feelings or driving her away.”

  His father slapped him on the back. “Better to find out now than later. But let me give you a little advice. I think you and Van would make a good life together. But don’t force things.”

  “You mean wait?”

  “I mean don’t spring everything you want on her all at once. Life together is a compromise, always.” His father grinned. “With you doing most of the compromising.”

  “Timber!” Granddad yelled as the tree cracked, and fell softly onto the snow.

  “Good job.” Joe took the axe from Owen and handed it to his granddad.

  Granddad chuckled, obviously having a great time. He swung the axe over his shoulder.

  Joe Jr. flinched and took it from him. “Come on you two, let’s get that tree on the truck before it star
ts dropping needles and my behind freezes off. We’ll stop by the hardware store and pick up some lights and things on the way to Owen’s house. You remembered to bring the key?”

  “Yes, sir.” Owen patted his pocket.

  “And after that, haircuts.”

  The other two Joes and Owen groaned.

  “Like I said, son, compromise.”

  Joe laughed. He knew his dad was right. There were no guarantees in life.

  “I actually kind of hate shopping,” Van confessed as she waited for a parking space in downtown Whisper Beach. She’d nixed the mall after two traffic lights of gridlock.

  “I wouldn’t,” Haley said. “Besides, you have all these neat clothes and everything.”

  “Well, thanks.” Van was wearing designer jeans, a black cashmere sweater and a ballerina-pink down jacket she’d bought at the end of last season at Bloomingdale’s. She’d “dressed up” mainly because she’d been wearing sweats or Levi’s for the past few weeks as she set up shop at Elite Lifestyle Managers and the winery. And because it felt festive. Sort of. She realized her idea of festive wasn’t up to snuff. And she planned to remedy that today.

  They got out of the car, paid the meter and stepped over the snow that had collected at the curb. Then they stood on the sidewalk looking up and down the street.

  Whisper Beach was a beach town, where trendy boutiques rubbed addresses with souvenir and beach stores. In winter, they leaned toward gifts for the holidays and to Van’s mind, stuff that people didn’t really need.

  The nearest shop was one of those. Its window was crammed with seasonal gifts; just looking at it made Van’s fingers itch to minimalize and rearrange it. It would be much more effective if they’d just—

  “Are we going in?”

  “Sorry. What do you think about Santa ties for the guys?”

  Haley rolled her eyes and opened the door. They squeezed in at the same time, upending a laugh from Haley. Van grabbed a basket and they went immediately to the tie display that was arranged on a round table in the middle of an alcove of everything imaginable.

  “Let’s see . . .” Van began. “Elves for . . .”