by Leah Atwood
“Yeah. See, every New Year’s Eve, they decide on a new goal for the year. It has to be something they can do together and that none of them has ever done before. This was the first year their goal involved some kind of performing, so I booked this gig for them. I thought it would make a nice reward.”
The spark that had been smoldering in her heart since the moment she first saw him suddenly flared so hot that she almost looked down to see if her chest was glowing. “And now I understand.”
“Understand…what?”
“Why you bought them the bells. That was really nice of you.”
“They’re like my second family. In fact, since my family doesn’t live here, I always spend Christmas at the residence.” He paused, his expression uncertain. “I hope that doesn’t sound too pathetic to you.”
“Are you kidding? I think it’s great. My family doesn’t live here either, so I’m probably going to be spending Christmas watching Gerald sleep.”
He looked away, seeming to weigh his words. “You could spend it with me.”
She stared, certain that she had only just imagined he’d said that.
“I mean…” He kept his focus on the comedian, as if to make his offer seem like no big deal, in case she said no. “If you wanted to help at the residence. We still need a barista. It’s a volunteer spot, but you’d be paid with an amazing dinner.”
She couldn’t help the smile that warmed her cheeks. The hopefulness in his voice told her there was more to his request than just a desire to fill a volunteer position. “I’d love to.”
He smiled too, then looked at her with the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.
Their attention shifted as the emcee announced that he was about to start the countdown to the lighting.
Chris tipped his head toward the door. “Want to go outside? I see an empty space there next to the railing.”
She nodded. As the crowd began counting, Chris pushed the door open and they made their way out.
Shelby was just about to join in the chant when she felt something cold prick her nose. She looked out to see a few flakes of snow falling against the spotlight beams that were pointed at the tree. Holding up both hands, she looked over at Chris and they both started to laugh.
“Three…two…one…”
Suddenly the tree came alive with glowing color and a cheer rose from the crowd. Christmas music started playing through the speakers, and Shelby and Chris joined in the applause.
“If you’re not doing anything after this,” Chris looked down at her. “We could get some coffee. I know a great place. Their candy cane lattes and chocolate-chocolate chip biscotti are a perfect match.”
She twisted a grin at him. “Made in Heaven?”
He gave her a sideways look. “That’s what they say.”
The mention of candy canes reminded her that she still had some in her pocket. As she removed the mints, Cynthia’s business card fluttered out, landing on the edge of the balcony.
Chris moved quickly to retrieve it. As he straightened, Shelby saw that he was looking at the back of it, which she hadn’t even noticed had writing on it.
“What does it say?” She shifted so that they were shoulder to shoulder, forced closer by the people pressing in on either side.
He lowered the card so they could read it together.
This card entitles the bearer to one complimentary carriage ride.
She let out a laugh. Looking down at the row of carriages on the street next to the courtyard, she swore she saw a white horse wearing a red Santa hat.
“I have an even better idea.” Taking the card from him, she tipped her head toward the door and they started to walk. “After we’re done here, we could have our coffee on a carriage ride.” She handed him one of the candy canes.
He took it and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
He held open the door, and she paused.
“Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you…” She went through the door, then stopped to look back at him. “How do you feel about ballet?”
Epilogue
Shelby stood behind the mobile espresso cart in the expansive Cornerstone dining room, putting the finishing touches on a peppermint mocha. She handed it to Ruth-Ann, who looked festive in a Santa hat and a glittery Christmas sweater.
Violet, Helen, and Juanita huddled around the cart, sipping their coffees and looking at Mable, who studied the chalkboard Shelby had used to create a menu board.
After what seemed like a full minute of silent debating, Mable finally made her decision. “I would like an eggnog latte, dear. No…” She held up two crooked fingers. “Better make that two. My husband just loves eggnog.”
Shelby nodded. “Coming right up.”
As she stepped over to the machine she had affectionately labeled the Mini-Beast, the women continued the conversation they’d brought with them to the cart.
“I just think it’s time we stepped up our game.” As far as Shelby could tell, Helen had been pushing her agenda for the coming year’s group goal. “We’re not getting any younger.”
“That may very well be true, Helen,” said Violet, who seemed like the group’s natural leader. “But I like to think we’re still too young to die.”
Her curiosity piqued, Shelby listened as she poured eggnog into a steamer cup.
“But it fits the criteria.” Helen continued, undaunted. “It’s something we could do together that none of us has ever done before.”
“None of us has ever done it before…” Juanita, a tiny Hispanic woman, swirled her gingerbread latte. “…because none of us has a death wish.”
Helen fingered the strand of pearls that hung from her delicate neck. “But when we started the Annual Goal Club, we agreed that we would be open minded and willing to try new things.”
“I’m willing to try new things,” Ruth-Ann offered. “I’ve never done counted cross-stitch before. That would be a new thing.”
“Well, well, well.” Chris, who had been circling the room greeting all the residents and their families, gave Shelby a wink as he approached the group.
Feeling a warmth rise up her cheeks, Shelby leaned forward, hoping the blush looked like a result of the eggnog she was steaming.
Chris gave her that special smile she recognized as the one he saved just for her, then turned his attention to the women. “Merry Christmas, ladies.”
“Chris.” Helen moved to his side and waggled a finger at him. “You have to tell these scaredy cats that we need to get more adventurous with our goals.”
The other women chimed in, talking over each other.
“Ladies.” Chris held up a hand. “One at a time.”
Mable, who had been patiently waiting for her lattes, spoke up. “She wants us to jump off a building. Why would we do that?”
Chris frowned, then looked to Helen for an explanation.
Helen tossed Mable a slight scowl. “It sounds bad when she says it like that.” She looked back at Chris. “It’s called BASE jumping. And it’s perfectly safe. I saw it on Evening Magazine.”
Looking like he might want to burst out laughing but knew better, Chris silently turned to Shelby for a response.
“I saw that show too,” she said. “It’s like skydiving, but off something like a building or a cliff.”
“See, Shelby understands.” Helen gave the other ladies a that-settles-that look. “She can do it with us.”
“Wait, what?” Sloshing the eggnog over the edge of the cup she was pouring it into, Shelby shook her head. “Count me out. I have enough trouble with solid ground.”
“Look,” Chris said, “I’ll be supportive of whatever you ladies decide, but you all have to agree.” His attention was diverted by a server who came toward them pushing a cart filled with colorful appetizers. He reached out for something wrapped in bacon.
“Careful about those, sweetie.” Mable cast a warning gaze at Chris as she took the lattes Shelby handed her. “It’s never too soon to start watching your sodium.
”
As the ladies walked away, still arguing about Helen’s suggestion, Chris joined Shelby behind her cart. He handed her one of the bacon-wrapped goodies. “Are you having fun?”
“Absolutely.” She bit into the savory treat, then tuned down her volume, making sure her next words only met Chris’ ears. “This place isn’t at all what I expected. When you told me it’s a subsidized senior residence, I pictured low-income housing. This place is downright posh. I mean, look at that million dollar view.” Wiping the steaming wands, she did a half turn toward the stretch of windows behind them that looked out over the Puget Sound.
“We were blessed by a very generous donor who left us this building in his will.” Chris reached for a paper napkin and wiped the bacon grease off his fingers. “A lot of the folks here are on limited incomes because they spent a good portion of their earning years on the mission field. They don’t have the funds to live in a standard senior residence, but they deserve to be treated well. The place fills a need.” His forehead creased in the way it always did when he talked about Cornerstone for more than two minutes. “That’s why I’ve been so concerned. If our board decides we can’t afford to keep running this place, they’ll probably sell it to some big corporation.”
“Well, that’s not so bad, right?” Shelby rubbed his arm, hoping to offer some comfort. “I mean, the people could still live here, couldn’t they?”
“That’s just the thing. A corporation would want to make money. That would mean raising the cost for the residents.” His gaze fell across the room. “That’s what concerns me.”
She looked out across the room as well. The elegant space was filled with residents and their families dressed in holiday finery, mingling and enjoying drinks and appetizers. Around them, servers scurried to prepare the tables for the meal and a man in a tux played tasteful Christmas music on the grand piano in the far corner. It was such a carefree scene.
As she scanned the happy faces, she had to wonder how many of them would be able to endure the hardship of being priced out of their home.
“I’m sorry.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I didn’t mean to remind you of that on Christmas.”
“It’s okay. It’s just that it’s been three weeks since our presentation. I’m seriously thinking that if they were going to give us the grant, we would have heard by now.”
“Hey.” Jake walked up just then, looking handsome in a charcoal gray suit with a holly sprig on the lapel. “What are you doing talking shop on Christmas? We’re here to celebrate.”
“You’re right.” Chris edged around the espresso cart and stuck out his hand in greeting. “Merry Christmas, Jake.”
“And a very Merry Christmas to you, my friend.” Instead of clasping Chris’ hand, Jake shoved a white envelope into it.
Taking it, Chris furrowed his brow. “What’s this?”
“Just a little Christmas cheer.” Jake gave him a satisfied look. “Read it and see.”
Shelby eased over next to Chris so she could read it along with him. The second he unfolded the paper, she squeezed his shoulder and felt a squeal work its way up her throat.
Chris gasped, running a hand across his forehead. He looked up at Jake. “We got it…?”
Jake nodded. “That we did. I got the letter yesterday but I wanted to save the good news for the best day of the year.”
Chris grabbed Jake and pulled him into a bear hug. “Way to go, man. Thanks for all your hard work.”
“Back at ya.” Jake gave him an extra pat on the back. “Oh, and the event planner here told me to tell you they’re ready whenever you are.” He took the letter from Chris and melded into the crowd.
Chris turned to Shelby and they both broke out into a grin.
She threw her arms around him. “I knew God would take care of things.” She stepped back from the hug. “And what did he mean, ‘ready whenever you are’?”
“Oh,” he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just a little thing I do every Christmas for the residents. I started it a few years ago and they like it, so it’s become sort of a tradition.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
As she watched him walk away, her hand rose to her face where she could still feel the warmth of his kiss. She smiled. This had not been how she had expected her Christmas to turn out.
Chris walked to where a cushioned chair borrowed from a dining table had been positioned between the large fireplace and an even larger Christmas tree. An excited buzz stirred through the crowd, followed by shushing and then silence as people started to settle into seats.
Shelby slid into a chair at a nearby table, curious as to what was about to happen.
He cleared his throat and picked something up from a small table next to the chair. He started to read. “And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night…”
Shelby felt herself tearing up. It was the Christmas story from the book of Luke. The exact passages that her dad had read every Christmas for her entire life.
She settled back and listened, finding comfort not just in the words, but in Chris’ ristretto-smooth voice.
She had to admit that as she’d gotten to know Chris better over the past few weeks, her original impression of him had been restored. She felt a peaceful confidence that if she stuck with him, the best was yet to come. It was a great plan.
She smiled. There was something to be said for this match made in Heaven.
The End
Heavenly Peace
Sample Chapter
HOLIDAY HEARTS, Book 2 ~ Contemporary Christian Christmas Romance
Feeling exhausted, Valerie Seldon managed a smile for Ethan as he appeared behind the counter of Bright Horizons Daycare. She signed the checkout form, then knelt down like she always did when the buzzer sounded and the door clicked open.
“Mama!” He charged into her waiting arms.
“Hi, baby.” She took his Spiderman backpack from him, then held up his coat so he could shove his second arm into the sleeve. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah. Tommy and me made a fort. Mrs. Henson said we could leave it up for Monday.”
“It’s ‘Tommy and I’, and that’s super.” She stood, debating if she should mention that he might not have to wait until Monday. Even though tomorrow was Saturday, she’d need to work for at least a few hours. Being on the bottom rung of the advertising agency, she had to prove her worth whenever possible, and the impending January deadlines provided both opportunity and obligation.
Too bad she was on salary and the extra hours wouldn’t affect her paycheck. In fact, the added time would actually cost her if she had to bring Ethan to the daycare.
She let out a long sigh. The ongoing balancing act between ‘mom’ and ‘employee’ had been tougher than she’d imagined. Even though she’d married a man who had walked into burning buildings for a living, she’d naively assumed her position as a stay-at-home mom was secure. These last couple of years had been tough, but she counted herself blessed to have been home full time with Ethan for his first two before that.
Deciding to wait to tell him about tomorrow until she knew if she could get a sitter, she held the door open for him. He scampered through, continuing to recount the details of his day.
“…and Mrs. Henson said that Santa brings presents to all the kids in the whole world. I told her that only kids who act good get presents from Santa. Isn’t that right, Mama?”
“Oh…well…” Pushing the elevator button, Valerie swallowed hard. She and Scot had decided they weren’t going to promote the Santa myth, but once Ethan had started going to daycare, it had seemed like an uphill battle to keep him from believing. And since she really didn’t want her son to be the kid who spilled the truth, ruining the fun for everyone else, she’d remained vague on the topic.
To her relief, the elevator doors opened and Ethan marched in, but when he turned around his expectant gaze landed on
her again.
Chewing her lower lip, she pushed the button for the lobby.
As the doors started to close, a hand sliced through the open space between them, sending them into reverse. Normally, she found that rude and annoying, but at the moment, she welcomed the diversion. When Ethan’s friend Tommy bounded in, she said a quiet prayer of thanks. If she was going to be forced to state her views on the Santa issue, she’d prefer to plan precisely what those views should be first.
A man stepped in after Tommy carrying a Star Wars backpack shaped like R2D2. She had never met Tommy’s dad, but assumed this must be him.
“Hi Tommy.” She greeted the boy, then addressed his dad as the kids started making pistol noises at each other. “I’m Ethan’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you, Ethan’s mom.” He pressed a button, then beamed down at his son. “Tommy tells me about their antics every day. We appreciate that he has a friend here.”
“It does make things easier. Do you work in the building?”
He nodded. “Seymour Graphic Design up on thirty-two. My wife has a law office on fifteen. You?”
“Oh, I’m with Henderson Associates. On thirty-five.”
“Advertising?”
“Yes, but please don’t hold that against me.”
He laughed. “We all have to make a living.”
The elevator stopped and Valerie looked up to see that they were on fifteen.
“This is our floor, buddy. Time to go meet Mommy.” He reached down to guide Tommy out, then tipped Valerie a nod. “Enjoy your weekend.”
Valerie watched Tommy’s dad stoop down to pick him up as the doors closed. A deep longing filled her chest like a balloon, bringing an ache that always made her feel like her heart might explode. It wasn’t a longing for something missing in her own life, but in Ethan’s. At four, he was probably too young to realize what he was missing not having a dad.
Ethan had been two when they’d lost Scot, and he didn’t even remember him. But Valerie did. She remembered as if not even a minute had passed, although it had been more than two years. She remembered the sound of his voice and the way the smell of his aftershave lingered in the house after he left for the fire station.