It Really IS a Wonderful Life: The Snowflake Falls but Hearts in Love Keep a Home Warm All Year Long

by Linda Wood Rondeau

  “No. We’ll take my car. I know it’s silly, but I like to keep the seats right where they are. That way I don’t accidentally leave them behind. I’ve done that before.”

  “Here, Josh. Please hang the phone back up for me.” Dorie turned toward Jamey. “Thanks for coming to the rescue. I’m perfectly capable of driving the children to church by myself. I’ve driven in snow before.”

  “Probably not this much, though. The weatherman says ten inches fell last night. And Gabe’s worried your car might need a boost. And you don’t have snow tires.”

  “It appears he doesn’t know how to drive in this weather any better than I do.”

  Jamey joined in her snorts. “I’ll give you that one. Our dear Dr. Wellington has found more than one snow bank in his driving career.”

  Emma handed Mr. Bear to Jamey. “Would you carry Mr. Bear to the car? He’s afraid of the big snow.”

  Jamey knelt to meet Emma eye to eye. “Would you like a lift, too?”

  She nodded.

  Josh rushed outside and made a path through the highest snowdrift.

  How could she refuse Jamey’s offer now?

  He held Emma along with Mr. Bear in one arm, grabbed the snow shovel with the other, and cleared a path. Josh raced to the car and buckled up, his pants caked with snow.

  Once in her seat, Emma positioned Mr. Bear on her lap. “Jamey said Mr. Bear could be in the church play too, Mommy.”

  Big wet flakes, like a Carolina spring storm, splashed onto the windshield. “Don’t they cancel church when the weather’s bad?”

  Jamey stretched his jaw with a poor attempt to hide his smile. “When the weather’s bad, yes. This is nothing for the North Country. Supposed to keep warming and change to rain. Most of the snow will be gone by the afternoon. Right now, the roads are pretty slushy.”

  The car revved on the first turn, her self-satisfaction short-lived when the car slid sideways.

  Jamey pumped the brakes. “You really should replace these tires soon. It’s dangerous to drive with practically bald tires, especially on these wintry roads.”

  Didn’t anyone think she had a brain? “I’ll get to it.”

  Once safely on the road, Jamey cleared his throat. “Have … uh … you found a job yet?

  Was there no end to this man’s insults this morning? “No.”

  “I’d like to offer you a position at Bargains Galore.

  There’s an opening at my store.”

  “So you do own it?”

  “My family does. We own several businesses in the area, and I manage them for my father.”

  Hot acid burned her mouth. “I already applied and you didn’t hire me.”

  “I’m sorry you think that. Actually, my father does most of the hiring. We’re looking to fill a new position. Since I know you, and I heard you were looking for work, I thought I’d ask.” Jamey turned into the church parking lot. “If you’re not too sore at us, come in at eight tomorrow and we’ll talk about it.”

  Just like that. This must be what Daddy meant by Midville networking not requiring employment ads. At least scanning goods and stuffing bags was honest work. No disgrace in starting from the bottom, like having a oneliner in a play.

  All right, she’d show them what she had and make it count. Daddy always said he preferred dependability over experience in a job applicant. Dorie would prove her worth and move up the corporate ladder. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it tonight and call in the morning.”

  When they reached the church parking lot, Jamey helped Emma out of her car seat. She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Mr. Bear wants another lift to the church. He says it’s too cold to walk.”

  “Why don’t I carry you both?”

  Emma smiled.

  How good he was with kids. Not an entertainer like Gabe. More like a sympathetic friend.

  “See you inside, Jamey,” Josh said as he scooted by on the run, sliding on the watery ice patches between the car and the church.

  “Hi, Jamey, Dorie.” Susan Davidson said. She sounded like Joan Rivers with a bad case of laryngitis. Susan picked up her pace as much as a woman wearing heels in a snowstorm could, and she caught up with them. “I heard about Gabe’s accident. Isn’t that a kicker?”

  Mom stood guard at the church entrance and opened the door for the arriving troops. Once Emma slid from Jamey’s arms to the floor, Mom unbundled her and led her toward the basement.

  Since Mom didn’t ask why Dorie came with Jamey instead of Gabe, she must already know about Gabe’s car and it’s untimely demise. In fact, the whole town probably knew.

  Dorie’s father wandered in as she hung up her coat. He wore a scowl as wide as the tear on Mr. Bear’s leg. “Hurry up. You’re late.”

  She followed him into Pastor Dave’s study, which served as a classroom on Sunday mornings. “Now do you see why you need a four-wheel drive?”

  “I’m fine, Daddy. How are you?”

  “You know I worry about you. A father’s prerogative.”

  “I promise I’ll think about getting a different car. Since I have a job now, I’ll need reliable winter transportation.”

  “A job? Where? Your mother didn’t tell me.”

  “She doesn’t know yet. How about that? For once you’ve got the jump on her.”

  Daddy smiled, showing all his teeth. “Tell me about the job.”

  “On the way to church Jamey Sullivan told me about an opening at his store. The job is mine if I want it.”

  “Is that right? You came to church with Jamey? Wasn’t this Gabe’s checkout-your-church Sunday?”

  Dorie told her father the whole story, at least the whole of what she knew.

  “I like that Jamey Sullivan. If you weren’t hooked up with Doc Wellington, I’d tell you to go after Jamey. Not much of a golfer, but a good fisherman, like his father.”

  “You know Jamey’s father?”

  “I golf with Stan Wellington and I fish with James Sullivan. Man’s not doing well, though. I doubt he’ll live to see bass season open.”

  She should set Daddy straight. “By the way, I’m not hooked up with Gabe. We’ve dated a few times, that’s all. Four to be exact, if you count a return trip to the West End Café and a movie at my house last night. And Jamey is just a friend.”

  “So you’re going to be working. Good.” Why did Daddy wink? Before she could ask about his quirky grin, Earl Davidson and the Greens walked in with Mom trailing behind. Leaning forward, Earl patted Dorie’s hand. “Looks like we’re both batching it today.”

  Would she have to spend the rest of her life in this senior adult class? The young couples class made her painfully aware of her solitary state. She wanted to be joined again. Not for romance. She could never find anyone she loved as much as Devon. This time she’d marry for practical reasons—a father for the children and a companion for her. That’s all happiness required, didn’t it?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunday rolled into Monday without Dorie Fitzgerald’s permission. She kissed Mom on the cheek. “Thanks for staying with Emma for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Mom helped herself to coffee. She picked up Mr. Bear from the kitchen floor and handed him to Dorie. “That’s strange. Emma’s on the couch without Mr. Bear.”

  Placing him on Emma’s stool, Dorie heaved a tired sigh. She plopped into a chair. “Mr. Bear has been turning up in a lot of odd places—without Emma. And she hasn’t been crying as much, either. Of course, she’ll be four in a few months.”

  Mom took a sip of coffee. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind. As you said, Emma is almost four, and I think it’s time for some changes. You know I enjoy taking care of the kids and I don’t want to be selfish, but it’s time you stopped relying on me so much.”

  “Have I been taking advantage of you?”

  “Of course not. I’m glad we’ve been available. Now it’s time you look into preschool for Emma. Whether you ge
t a job or not, she needs to be around kids her own age.”

  How could her mother do this? No one could care for a child as well as a parent. Grandparents were always the next best choice. “No. It’s too soon for Emma to go to school. She’s my baby.”

  “And she’ll always be your baby, sweetie, like you’re mine. Sooner or later you have to let go.” Mom squeezed Dorie’s hand. “No matter how old they are. And if you get the job, which you will—”

  “You know something I don’t, right? Tell me.”

  “All I know for sure is that your father’s had quite a few conversations with the older Mr. Sullivan.”

  Dorie seethed. The little girl in her appreciated Daddy’s help, but the grownup resented his interference. He’d stayed so cool while she bragged on finding a job. Why did she think for one moment she’d been hired on her own merit?

  “Anyway, when you start working, I’ll have to insist you don’t depend on me for regular day care.”

  “You want your granddaughter to be babysat by strangers?”

  “The church has a day care program. And there’s the Little Red Hen Preschool. If you enroll Emma for three days a week, I’ll take care of her the other two days and overtime or emergencies.”

  At least one of them had it all figured out. “Don’t you want me to take this job?”

  “Of course I do. And I also want what’s best for Emma. I love you both.”

  “Things are happening too fast.”

  “Are you talking about the job, Emma, or Dr. Wellington?”

  What power exposed a child’s heart to a mother’s scrutiny?

  “Gabe has that look, Mom. I think he wants to get serious. What should I do?”

  “Do you love him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. If I don’t, I think I could learn to love him. He’s good to us. I know you don’t like him—”

  “Of course I like him. Gabe’s a great surgeon and a kindhearted man. And he’d do his best to be a good father to the children.”

  “But Gabe’s not—”

  Mom took Dorie’s hands in a loving clasp. “He’s not Devon, sweetie. No man will be. If you decide to get serious with Gabe, do it for the right reasons.”

  This dating thing was the pits. It was supposed to be Dorie and Devon forever. She needed no more of this adolescent turmoil. She’d seriously dated only two men in her life: Lenny and Devon. Lenny ditched her and Devon died.

  “I’ll be careful, Mom.”

  “Be more than careful. Pray about it.”

  Did God care about such things? She considered herself a Christian. Did she believe enough to trust Him with her relationships? Of course, she wanted a man of faith. She also wanted to know God in a deeper, more personal way. That included prayer, not only about men but also about becoming a career woman—as foreign a role as a single girl on the prowl.

  ***

  Not knowing which door to use, Dorie banged on the window of Bargains Galore. A middle-aged woman unlocked the door and let her in. “You must be Dorie.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Jamey jiggled a cash drawer that seemed to be stuck. “Sherrie, would you show Dorie around?” He shot a quick upward glance in her direction. “I’ll be with you shortly. I have a couple of things to take care of here.”

  Sherrie led the way to a lounge area, a comfortable place to relax while on break, complete with a couch, a recliner, and a kitchenette. Sherrie pointed to a clothes rack. “You can put your coat there. Do you like coffee? We keep a pot going all day long.”

  “Yes, but I’m sure Jamey won’t allow it at the register.”

  “You won’t run the register much except in an emergency. Most of the time you’ll be in the office.” Sherrie glanced toward a stairway. “Would you like a cup before I show you your office?”

  Office? Upstairs? “Yes. Coffee would be great. Where are the cups?”

  “Under the sink. You’ll probably want to bring your own.”

  Dorie bit her lower lip as she rummaged for a cup. Since moving to Midville she believed a job would be the answer to her unhappiness, but now she had her doubts. How could she manage taking care of the kids around a hectic work schedule? She should thank Jamey for his time, put her coat back on, and make a graceful exit. She would tell him she had it on high authority the world was going to end tomorrow, and she should go home and hug her children.

  She shook away her dread. She needed this job on many levels, whatever the job turned out to be. She’d pretend she knew why she’d been hired. When she tipped the carafe, coffee dribbled onto the white cabinet surface. “I’m sorry. Where will I find the napkins?”

  “In the cabinet, by the cups. Sugar, creamers, and stir sticks are in this drawer. I should have warned you that the lid is loose. I ordered a new carafe. Should be here soon.”

  “I see you’re very organized. I drink mine black. Thanks.”

  Sherrie led the way upstairs to a loft made into two offices by interlocking room dividers and an archway. They stopped at a large nineteenth-century desk, which occupied the majority of space in the front cubicle. “This is your station. Mr. Sullivan’s is to your left. Unfortunately, everyone will have to traffic through your area to get to theirs. Mr. Sullivan’s assistant, Elton, uses the desk to your right. He’s off this morning.”

  “I … think there’s been a mistake—”

  “No, this is where Mr. Sullivan wants you. Look around and make yourself at home. Mr. Sullivan will be up shortly. I have to unlock the door.” Sherrie disappeared down the steps.

  Dorie took a quick glance around her cubicle. Now that she knew where she would be working, it would be nice to know what kind of work she’d been hired to do. Dorie strode behind the desk and ran her hand along the dusty shelving that obscured most of the wall. She patted the cushiony, upholstered desk chair.

  “Go ahead, try it out. I picked it up this morning at Harwood Office Supplies.”

  Dorie spun toward the voice, nearly losing her balance.

  “Sorry I startled you,” Jamey said. “These stairs are soundproof. If it’ll help, I’ll wear a cowbell.”

  She loved his humor. Working here should be a lot of fun, once she stopped being so nervous. “Thanks for the offer.” She caught her breath. “Mr. Sullivan, I think I might have misunderstood what job you had in mind for me.”

  “Mr. Sullivan? Why so formal?”

  Smirks annoyed her for the most part, but Jamey’s lopsided grin was endearing, like Josh when he explained what he had drawn on his sketch pad.

  “That’s what Sherrie called you—”

  “Don’t you remember … my maths teacher?” Jamey laughed. “Sherrie’s the only one who calls me Mr. Sullivan. So, what job were you expecting? I’d hate to disappoint you.”

  “Cashier.”

  “You’re overqualified; that’s why my father didn’t hire you before now.”

  “I’ve heard that a lot over the past several months. No one would give me a crack at anything else.”

  “I’m sorry for the confusion.” Jamey pulled up an upholstered side chair. “I’ll try to explain. Have a seat at your desk.”

  She allowed herself a couple of quick swivels before settling in to listen.

  “In a nutshell, we want to upgrade our computer system and our point of sale program to allow better tracking of accounts receivable, accounts payable, bank accounts, checking accounts, payroll, and assets. I know computers, but I don’t have the time to devote to complete reorganization. And Elton can barely manage a spreadsheet. That’s where you come in. We want you to be our information technologist, data analyst, or whatever you want to call yourself. Interested?”

  “Very much so.”

  “We have six operations, all in Midville. Two convenience marts and four discount stores.”

  “I didn’t know your family owned a conglomerate.”

  “I’d hardly call us a conglomerate. Pop thought he needed to expand. Not that we had to. We’re not exactly wealthy, but Bar
gains Galore provides a good living for us. Pop thought expanding would help the local economy by offering more jobs.”

  “That makes sense.” Dorie took another couple of quick swivels. If Jamey’s management style turned out to be as good as his selection of office furniture, this might be a nice place to work.

  “When Pop told your father about our future plans for Sullivan Enterprises, he suggested you for the job. Pop found out I knew you and asked me to offer you a position. Call it small-town politics, but people like my father prefer hiring someone they know or who are recommended by a friend. You have the skills, and you have a lot to offer.”

  “I appreciate your confidence. You should know, though, that I don’t have much retail experience.”

  Jamey turned on the computer. “That doesn’t matter. According to your application, your business degree included computer programming and basic accounting. I’m a pretty good judge of character. I can tell you’re intelligent, dependable, and honest. Anything else can be learned.”

  Jamey leaned over her shoulder and clicked the start menu. She caught a whiff of pine-scented aftershave, the kind Devon wore. The grief counselor had warned her that a scent or image might evoke an uninvited memory, possibly at inconvenient times. This couldn’t be more inconvenient. Dorie grabbed a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Not at all. I get a little teary-eyed at times.” She sniffed back her tears. Jamey might think he’d hired an emotional wreck.

  “You’ll have the office to yourself quite a bit, since I’m in and out every day. Sherrie does occasional bookwork up here too. Maybe someday we’ll have corporate headquarters like Harwood Industries. For now, we’re a cozy family up here.”

  Jamey returned his attention to the computer screen. “This is my old computer from home. I brought it in last year thinking I could find the time to do up a spreadsheet or two. The only use it gets is when Elton plays Freecell during his breaks. I’ve already ordered a new computer for you. Should be in and installed before Friday. It’ll have networking capabilities, so you can communicate with all the stores. Tech support will contact you as soon as you’re on board about the upgrades.”