Christmas Comes to Dickens

by Nancy Fraser

  “How are your parents?” She chose a safe topic.

  “Fine. They’re living in Florida now and decided not to come in for the holidays this year.”

  Roz couldn’t blame them. Who’d leave the Sunshine State for a cold, New England winter? “So, who’s living in their house?” The Browns had lived next door to Grandma and Grandpa for as long as Roz could remember.

  “I am.” Cooper confessed, taking a deep breath. “When my parents left, they deeded the house to me and Brittany.”

  Had he married Brittany Morgan? A sudden coldness hit Roz to the core. Her last summer visit before grad school, she and Brittany had been rivals for Cooper’s attention. So much for safe subjects.

  “Did you have any children?” She might as well find out. Maybe he was a father now.

  “No. Brittany miscarried.”

  She should just shut up. Her attempt at conversation was proving to be a big downer.

  They were quiet again for a mile or so. “What about you?” Cooper broke the silence. “Did you ever marry?”

  “No.” How would she answer this? “But I’ve been engaged a few times.” She heard a hard edge to her voice. “They never worked out. I was too busy with my career,” she added to imply her broken relationships were all her fault. Being dumped one too many times had taken its toll on her self-esteem.

  “That must be going well.” Cooper paused. “Your career, that is.”

  “Oh, yes. Just fine.” Except she had been fired and was currently unemployed. “Isn’t that the farm up ahead?”

  They drove into the Gridley Meadows Farm parking lot—it was crowded with cars—and found a free space. Roz hopped out of the passenger side. She didn’t want Cooper to open her door.

  The place looked and smelled the same as in the past with its charming, Nordic-style barn and scent of pine and fir permeating the air. Happy shoppers, bundled up for the cold weather, wandered through the stands of cut trees. A fire pit blazed near the barn, and other folks stood beside it warming up.

  “Do you want to go into the field and cut a tree?”

  The thought of traipsing through a field with Cooper was suddenly disturbing. “No. Getting one already cut is fine.”

  As they wandered through the rows of cut trees, it began to snow. Roz raised her head and gazed at the low-hanging clouds. Tiny snowflakes landed on her upturned face, melting as soon as they touched her skin. She inhaled the cold, crisp air. The moment was unexpectedly magical.

  “What size?” Cooper asked, bringing her back to earth.

  “Maybe six feet.”

  He led the way, pausing at individual trees to check their size and shape. “I think you need a Fraser fir,” Cooper said. “The branches are stiff and will hold up well with all the ornaments.”

  “That’s important in our family.” The ornament exchange was so important. They did need a special tree, especially since it would be possibly Grandpa’s last family gathering. Who knew what next year might bring?

  Roz’s chin trembled and her vision blurred. She turned away from Cooper.

  “Hey, it’s okay to be sad.” He reached out and touched her shoulder.

  Even through the heavy down fabric, Roz felt his comforting grasp. She turned to face him, blinking her lashes to clear her eyes. There had always been something about Cooper that had drawn her to him. Something honest and steady. It didn’t hurt that he had a quiet competence about him, something she often felt she lacked within herself.

  “I feel so bad for Grandma. What will she do without Grandpa? I can’t imagine being married for so many years and then having it end that way.”

  He dropped his hand and gave her a sorrowful smile. “It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been married. Loss still hurts.”

  “Oh, my gosh! I’m sorry! I know you must be still suffering.”

  He cocked his head. “Yeah, the last year has been hell but it’s getting better. At least the first anniversary of everything has passed.”

  “But you’ll never forget her,” Roz stated, trying to make up for her faux pas.

  “No, I’ll never forget Brittany, but I will go on with my life someday. She told me to.”

  Roz bit her lower lip. She had to admire Cooper’s attitude. He was trying to pick up the pieces of his life after a devastating loss. He certainly put her own life and problems into perspective. Heck, Justin’s instant message still rankled. Why should she give another thought to someone who ditched her in such a callous way when there was true heartache in the world?

  She had always thought she was unlucky in love. But then again, maybe that was a good thing. In retrospect, none of her past loves since Cooper had been worth shedding a single tear over.

  “How about that tree over there?” She pointed to an especially pretty Fraser fir.

  Cooper unhooked it and tapped the cut end of the trunk on the straw-covered ground, shaking off the newly fallen snow. The branches splayed out nicely. “I think this is it.”

  “Yes, it’s plenty full.”

  “Decision made?”

  “Yes.” She favored him for the first time with a genuine smile.

  WHILE COOPER STOOD in line to get the tree wrapped and then loaded it into his truck, Roz wandered around the small gift shop in the barn. The cozy area was filled with sweatshirts decorated with the farm logo, holiday knick-knacks, and several kinds of tree stands and wreath hooks.

  Cooper came up behind her. “How about cocoa and cookies? Best in town.”

  Roz jumped and twirled around. “Cooper! You startled me.”

  “Sorry.” He grinned like a mischievous boy. An amused light gleamed in his eyes. “Didn’t mean to.”

  “Hot cocoa sounds good right now. I can skip the cookies.”

  “My treat.”

  “Oh, okay. I never turn down cookies if someone else is buying.”

  Roz sat on a wooden barrel in front of a black, cast iron wood stove that puffed out enough heat to actually make her not need her coat. She unzipped it while she waited for Cooper to return and stuck her gloves in her coat pockets. Then she pulled out her cell phone to check for email. Spam and junk. No one was beating down her door to offer her a new job.

  “I bought a farm mug for your cocoa.” Cooper straddled a vacant barrel and handed her a ceramic mug with the red Gridley Meadows logo on it.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” She pocketed the phone, cupped the mug, and took a sip. “Umm. This is good.”

  “Told you.” Cooper stuck out his hand. “Have a cookie.”

  Roz lifted a red and green decorated sugar cookie from the paper napkin in Cooper’s hand. She took a bite. The cookie crumbled, and the sugar and sparkles powdered her chin. She caught the crumbs in her left hand, then swallowed hard and ducked her head in embarrassment. Klutz. Now she was a mess. Cooper just grinned at her while she brushed at her clothes.

  “Cooper, is that you?” A curvy red head came up behind Cooper. She wore tight jeans, boots, and an open, waist-length coat that showed off her figure.

  He half-turned in his seat. “Hello, Joni.”

  “Who’s this?”

  Roz recognized the cat claws coming out in the tone of the woman’s voice. She swiped the sugar powder from her chin and brushed cookie morsels from the front of her coat.

  “This is Tress and Ken Henry’s granddaughter Roz.” Cooper turned back to face her for the introduction. “Roz, this is Joni Smith.”

  “Hello, Joni.”

  “I thought you looked new in town. Here for Christmas?”

  Why did simple conversation sound like a condemnation? “Yes, here for the holidays.”

  Joni smiled and lightly touched Cooper’s sleeve. “Well, I’ll see you later, Cooper.” The woman’s voice sounded like a purr.

  “Sure thing.”

  “Meow,” Roz said when Joni left the shop.

  “Excuse me?” Cooper drew his eyebrows together, looking perplexed.

  “Joni didn’t seem to care for me being wit
h you.”

  “Oh, that.” Cooper said with a shrug, then gobbled down the remaining cookie. When finished, he brushed his hands. “I’ve suddenly become one of the town’s most eligible bachelors.”

  Roz sipped her cocoa, studying him over the rim of the mug. “I can understand that. You’re quite handsome, and you have a successful business.”

  “Being considered a good catch is actually a nuisance,” Cooper admitted, sipping his hot chocolate and leaving a trace of whipped cream on his mustache. He looked cute licking off the white with his tongue. “You wouldn’t believe the calls I get from single women to fix the most basic of plumbing repairs. I’ve made it clear that although I’ve been a widower over a year, I’m not ready for any kind of relationship. But they still keep calling.”

  Roz could understand not being ready for another relationship. “Even though you plan to go on with your life some day?”

  “I guess it doesn’t make sense after what I said earlier.”

  She gave a frustrated shake of her head. “You have a right to feel ambivalent.” Her breath hitched, and she slightly pressed her lips together. How much should she reveal about herself? “In fact, I find myself unsure of my future.”

  “Roz Henry, unsure?”

  Cooper was right to question her. She’d never hesitated to go after what she wanted. It must seem strange to him given their history together. She’d always bragged about the great things she’d do as a marketing rep. Maybe she’d have her own agency someday. But even though she wanted Cooper to feel better, she wasn’t ready to explain herself.

  Roz rose and looked down a him, offering another tentative smile. “Let’s go home. I’m sure Grandma Tress will ask us both to decorate the tree.”

  Chapter 3

  MARRY ME, ROZ. WE’RE good together. My job isn’t sexy, not like yours, but I will make a good living. I think you love me, and I love you.

  Cooper had worked up the courage to ask her to marry him. When had it been? After he’d started his own business, no longer an apprentice. He still lived upstairs in his parents’ house, but he was going to rent an apartment. They could make it on his income. She could finish her education. He’d had big plans.

  His lips had grazed hers in the lightest of kisses, but it was intoxicating. But when she gave him a diplomatic shrug, he knew she didn’t share his dreams.

  Gently, he took her shoulders. “Say yes.”

  Color drained from her face. “I can’t.”

  He couldn’t quite believe she said no, although he knew he’d only had a fifty-fifty chance. “You mean you won’t.”

  “I’m heading back to school. The timing is wrong for us.” She wore an emotionless mask, hiding whatever she felt at the moment from his penetrating gaze.

  He’d dropped his hands and stepped back, afraid if he touched her again, he’d lose it and do something stupid like cry. The sudden gulf between them made his heart ache. “I understand.”

  “Oh, Cooper, I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” Her features frozen, she swallowed hard.

  “No way. You haven’t hurt me. I get it.”

  She scowled. “I don’t think you do.”

  “Trust me. I get it.” He was a working-class guy from a small town. Her big dreams didn’t include him.

  Her frown melted away, and her face was transformed by a somewhat dubious smile. “No hard feelings?” She stuck out her hand.

  He put his hands in his pockets. “No hard feelings.”

  SHE’D DECLINED HIS proposal of marriage.

  Marry me, Roz. We’re good together. My job isn’t sexy, not like yours, but I will make a good living. I think you love me, and I love you.

  Roz thought about that day as she sat in the family living room watching Cooper string colored lights on the tree. They’d moved an end table so the tree could be placed in the front window to shine brightly toward the street.

  Her grandparents’ living room was a throwback to earlier days—much earlier days. The house had been Grandma Tress’ childhood home, and for sentimental reasons, she kept the living room as it must have looked in her childhood with flowered upholstered chairs complete with lace doilies on the arms and back, a wooden corner hutch filled with tarnished silver and old china, and photos of long-dead relatives displayed on any flat surface like the long console packed with out-of-date stereo equipment. Roz recognized a young picture of her father and uncle wearing their baseball uniforms, and her grandfather’s Navy photo.

  As a young person, Grandma had a streak of rebellion in her. She’d gone to California to be a hippie, but when she returned to Dickens, she’d settled down with Grandpa. She’d always seemed content with her life. What would Roz’s life had been if she’d married Cooper? Would she have been content?

  No. Her mouth trembled. A sudden epiphany hit her. Ten years ago, when Cooper proposed, she needed to chase her dreams. Not settle for complacency. That’s one thing her parents had taught her. Go after what you want. Make the best of the chances you’ve been given.

  She’d given it a shot. But failed. Her stomach hardened at the realization. Her fancy college degree had not gotten her to the top of her field. Years of trying hard, working late nights, giving up a private life had brought her nothing but a lot of heartache and disappointment.

  “That’s done.” Cooper stood back from the sparkling tree, examining his work. “How does it look?”

  “Perfect. You’re an expert.”

  “My mom always made me and Dad string lights.” He faced her with a smile.

  “I think it’s a guy thing. Now it’s up to me to put on the ornaments.”

  “Have at it.” Cooper plopped down on the worn sofa and stretched out his legs.

  As Roz took the lid off a cardboard box of ornaments, Grandma Tress ushered Grandpa into the room and sat him in the flowered easy chair.

  “I thought I’d give him a change of scenery,” she said and bent down near Grandpa’s ear. “Ken, Roz and Cooper are decorating the Christmas tree,” she told him.

  Grandpa didn’t act as if he understood. He rocked back and forth in the chair and picked at his fingernails. Grandma straightened with a sigh, as if to say she was trying, but there seemed nothing she could do to engage his interest. His mind wandered the long road of his past.

  “The lights are lovely, Cooper. Thank you for your help.”

  “You know I’d do anything for you, Mrs. Henry.”

  Grandma gave a small nod, pressing her lips together. She pulled a straight-back chair next to Grandpa and sat down, patting her husband’s arm.

  Now that she had an audience, Roz got busy hanging decorations on the tree—cloth, handmade African animals brought back from one of her parents’ trips, several snowmen, a rocking horse, gingerbread men, and personalized ornaments with dates and family names.

  “Look, Grandma, I made this for you when I was fifteen.” Roz held up a small, knitted red stocking. She’d been trying to learn to knit that year.

  Later, she held up a stuffed Santa Claus ornament. “Remember when Grandpa used to dress up like Santa Claus?” He would surprise the cousins who still believed in Santa.

  “Good memories.” Grandma said with a slight smile.

  Roz’s throat thickened. Yes, there were good memories in this house, comforting ones, filled with family love. She glanced at Cooper, who was concentrating on the tree. She had good memories of him too. Summer fun. Laughter. Adventure. And later stolen kisses behind their houses or while holding hands during a walk downtown.

  Had she truly broken his heart? That was hard to believe. He’d moved on to Brittany so he must not have carried a torch for her too long. Had he loved Brittany too? That he was grieving her was evident. How she felt about him at this moment was clear to her. She felt sorry for him. She wanted to help him, if she could. How did she comfort him when he didn’t seem to be interested in her sympathy?

  Emptying the box of all the ornaments, Roz stepped back to give the tree an inspection. Satisfied, s
he clicked off the lamp and sat down beside Cooper, feeling his warmth. She wanted to touch him, but only her blue-jean clad thigh pressed against his. Lacking courage, she didn’t take his hand. It would be presumptuous. After all, she was the one who refused his offer or marriage. He was the grieving widower who had made a point of stating his lack of interest in women. How did one get past that barrier?

  Roz sat in the darkened room, the glowing lights and holiday smells of the fresh tree enveloping her. As the magic of Christmas seeped into her soul, she dismissed her troubles, her heartache, and simply relished the moment.

  BEFORE LUNCH THE NEXT morning, Roz walked the few short blocks to the Common. Yesterday’s snow had clung to the grass, but not the warmer sidewalks. The weather was cold and promised more snow. Her breath frosted in the air. She was glad to get out of the house. As much as she loved Grandpa, Roz found his condition hard to deal with. How had Grandma Tress managed for so long? Her parents were right to insist on a nursing home.

  Downtown the small square came alive for the holidays. The white church with its soaring steeple was lit up. Its tall windows had been decorated with green wreaths and red bows. Similar wreaths decorated the gazebo in the square where a festive Christmas tree stood nearby. The carousel’s six horses and assortment of fairy creatures remained silent and motionless, only operating in warm weather. Because Dickens had many specialty shops, shoppers crowded the sidewalks.

  Roz’s goal was Trim-A-Tree. The store had anything and everything a person could want for Christmas, and she needed an ornament for the gift exchange. She entered the shop and the cinnamon and pine scent of burning candles immediately welcomed her. Carols played in the background, and there was a hum of excitement in the jam-packed aisles.

  Matilda, the owner dressed as Mrs. Santa, waved at Roz. “Can I help you?”

  “No thanks. I just need to look around.”

  But she didn’t know where to begin. Every artificial tree was trimmed with ornaments for sale. Taking a deep breath, Roz considered what was missing from her grandmother’s tree, and it didn’t seem like much. What could she get her this year that was special?