Bring Me Home for Christmas

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Bring Me Home for Christmas Page 17

by Robyn Carr


  Becca laughed softly.

  “A Navy second lieutenant’s pay was pretty small, I didn’t have a job in San Diego and my parents lived on the opposite coast. Leaving them for the man of my choice meant not seeing them for a long time—air travel was pricey, there wasn’t email and long-distance phone calls were expensive.” Beverly paused. “What’s happening, Becca?”

  “Oh…just pondering… Denny so loves this town….”

  “I suppose you think I was born yesterday,” Beverly said. “Becca, I haven’t made it any secret that I wanted a different partner for you. One who was going to be successful enough to take you to Europe and the kids to Disney once a year. But I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit I followed my heart. Besides, you can’t cry alone at chick flicks for the rest of your life. I might not like it, but I understand you have to confront it.”

  “I don’t cry alone at chick flicks!”

  “Yes, you do. Maybe you can bring him home. This was his home once, after all,” Beverly said.

  “You were so angry with me for coming up here and now it sounds like you might actually understand!”

  “Tell him we’re having ham and turkey for Christmas,” Beverly said.

  Although Becca laughed, a few tears slid down her cheeks.

  Thirteen

  Becca had hoped to see Megan the day after her “accident” but she didn’t show up at the church for homework. Since her little brother also hung out at the pastor’s house or around the church, she asked Jeremy where she was. “Home, coughing,” he said.

  “Oh, no. She’s sick?”

  He shrugged. “Sorta. She barks like a dog.”

  “Not good,” Becca agreed.

  When Lorraine came to pick up Jeremy on her way home from her job, Becca was able to ask after Megan. Lorraine was keeping her home, giving her cough syrup and Tylenol and shoveling chicken soup into her. “Her biggest worry is that if she has to miss the pageant practice on Saturday afternoon, she won’t get to be Mary!”

  “If she were one of the singing angels, missing practice could be dicey,” Becca said. “But Mary doesn’t have to do anything but sit beside the manger. I’ll double check with Ellie and Jo, but I think her role is safe even if she misses Saturday, as long as she’s not contagious. And please, don’t let her talk you into letting her come to practice until she’s better. Whatever she’s got? No one wants to share it!”

  “Whew! This is about the most special thing she’s had going on in such a long time. I’d hate to tell her she has to give it up.”

  “Nah, don’t tell her that. Tell her she has to rest and eat chicken soup.”

  Friday was the last day of school before the holiday vacation and Saturday afternoon there was a rehearsal at the church for the Christmas Eve Nativity Pageant. On Sunday, some of the women got together to watch those Christmas movies at Paige’s house. When Becca passed through the bar’s kitchen to enter their quarters, she was stopped short by the accumulation of tons and tons of food. “Wow, preparing for a flood?”

  “Christmas boxes,” Preacher said. “We used to do it out in the bar where we had more room, but since the tree made us famous and we have so many visitors in town, we’re doing it in the kitchen and in our serving room.”

  “When do they go out?”

  “Christmas Eve is next Friday—but we’ll start delivering tomorrow. It’s almost all nonperishable so people can save it or eat it right away. That was Mel’s idea—she said if we’re bringing food to people who are hungry, let ’em eat!”

  “I thought you gave turkeys?”

  “Some, about a dozen. But canned hams work well, too. We don’t want to deliver birds to anyone who might have oven issues—as in no gas. There are people around who make due on fireplace heat.”

  “Do you put them all together before delivering?”

  “Nope. We deliver ’em as they’re ready. We have a lot of people volunteering. We’ll be at it most of the mornings this week, I imagine. Paige insists on making more cookies—there are families with kids.”

  We’re so lucky, Becca thought. When I get home, I’m going to be better about volunteering.

  Mel had a babysitter with her little ones and the town doctor was in charge of his three-year-old twins so his wife, Abby, could attend the hen party. Jack’s sister, Brie, came for a couple of hours and Jo and Ellie stopped by. Jo brought some pageant costumes with her, along with a sewing box, enlisting help in hemming angel’s robes.

  Everyone had a pageant costume in their laps, there were Christmas cookies, coffee, tea and punch on the dining table and the first movie of the day was It’s a Wonderful Life. There was a little light chatter, voices low so as not to disturb the movie too much.

  “Jack said he can’t understand why we’re going to so much trouble for this pageant. He was a shepherd when he was seven and he wore his father’s bathrobe.”

  “Did he tell you he wore that old plaid bathrobe till he was thirteen?” Brie whispered. “When he wasn’t a shepherd, he was a Jedi warrior.”

  “Ellie and I made all these costumes loose, with wide seams and huge hems so they can be altered if necessary and used year after year for kids of all sizes,” Jo said. “Oh! Shh! No talking while Clarence, the angel, arrives!”

  Everyone was obediently quiet. Then soft talking resumed until the part in the movie when George begins to see how life in the town would be had he never been born.

  “I actually believe all this,” Ellie said. “The smallest act is part of the whole universal scheme of things and everything is altered. Take away one good deed and everything changes. Add a good deed and there’s a ripple effect.”

  “Every time we watch this movie together, my mom says that same thing,” Becca said. “I think I believe it, too.”

  “Like making a cake,” Paige said. “Leave out one ingredient and it just won’t be the same. Becca, I bet you miss your mom so much by now.”

  “I talk to her every day, just like when I lived in my own apartment in San Diego.” She laughed. “Who am I kidding, I talk to her twice a day!”

  “I hope we meet her soon,” Mel said.

  Becca cleared her throat. “Well, you should know… I asked Denny to take me home before Christmas. I hate that I’ll miss the pageant, but I want to be with my family for the holidays. Though it’s hard to imagine, I miss Rich, too.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” Mel said. “How long will you be gone?”

  She cleared her throat again. “Maybe I’ll be back for a visit…”

  The only sound in the room came from the television. The complete absence of the women’s voices was heavy. Finally, Paige asked, “Are we losing Denny?”

  “Probably not,” she said, lifting her chin and trying to be brave. “He loves it here so much….”

  “But I thought…” Paige began.

  Mel touched her hand to stop her. “I’m not going to kid you, Becca—I would have been so happy if you chose our town. We all would. But there’s nothing mysterious about wanting to live near family. Sometimes I miss my sister in Colorado so much.”

  Before long, the movie was ending. Jimmy Stewart was united with all his family, friends and neighbors, Clarence had earned his wings and Becca was sobbing. “This movie always makes me cry.”

  “Wait till you get to White Christmas…” someone said right before she blew her nose.

  The Sunday night before Christmas, the bar was busier than other Sunday nights. People from the lower elevations drove up to see the spectacular tree with the amazing star, and since there was a bar and grill right there, stopped in for food and drinks. It seemed many hands were called upon to help. Brie’s husband brought their toddler daughter to her so he could help behind the bar; Denny shoveled his dinner in his mouth and then began helping Paige serve and bus while also fetching ice, bringing clean glasses from the kitchen and sometimes taking orders. Becca sat at an out-of-the-way corner table with Brie and the little girl. Denny occasionally brushed his l
ips against her cheek as he passed.

  Once he stopped and whispered, “Everything all right, honey?”

  “Sure, fine. Why?”

  “I don’t know, you seem a little down.”

  “Oh, I love those holiday movies, but they make me cry! Then it takes me a couple of hours to recover.”

  “Then why do you women watch them?” he asked, looking between Brie and Becca.

  “Because they’re so wonderful,” they both said at once.

  He just frowned for a second, then said, “Right.”

  There was so much he really didn’t understand about women, he thought. They were an eternal mystery. Did they actually like to cry?

  But there was one thing he understood perfectly—Becca needed to go home soon. She was moody. A little bummed out.

  When he saw Brie stand up and start helping her toddler into her jacket, Denny glanced at his watch. Seven-thirty. He went to their table. “Want me to get you home, honey?” he asked. “I can help out for another couple of hours and then I’ll be down.”

  “That would be good,” she said. “I’m ready.” She stood on one leg, put the knee of the vulnerable leg on her chair for balance and pulled on her jacket. She leaned on her crutches and made her way out the door with him.

  “There aren’t any stars tonight,” she said.

  “I think it’s going to snow,” Denny told her. “I don’t think I’ll be at Jack’s late—it’s Sunday night, people work tomorrow. And with snow forecast, those out-of-towners are going to head down the mountain early.”

  “Take your time. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you still sad about the movies?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “I’m fine. I’m going to get a hot bath, put on my ugly pajamas and crawl into bed with my book.”

  He carried her up the stairs and into his little room. “I’ll see you in a little while. And if you forget the pajamas, I’m okay with that.”

  Denny’s prediction was right—it was only another hour before the crowd in the bar was down to just a few people. “Go ahead, Denny,” Jack said. “You wanna get back to your girl.”

  Denny walked around the bar and jumped up on a stool facing Jack. “But I wanted to talk to you first,” he said.

  Jack tilted his head. “Something wrong?”

  “Yes and no. Been a while since we had a shot together. Tonight might be a good night for it.”

  Jack pulled down a bottle and two glasses. He poured a couple of shots and raised his glass. “What are we drinking to?”

  “I got things all worked out with Becca.”

  Jack grinned. “Well, here’s to you!”

  They drank, then put their glasses down. “Thing is, it’s not going to work here, Jack. I’m leaving with her. She wants to be near her family and the only home she’s known. I asked her to give us a chance here because I love it. I’ve never had such great jobs and friends. But the bottom line is she’s real close to everyone down there, and she just can’t see making this big a change.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said slowly. “It’s not for everyone.”

  “I can’t let her get away again….”

  Jack’s hand came down on his shoulder. “I know, Denny. I understand. I’ve been there.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. Mel talked about leaving Virgin River from the day she got here. One thing or another held her here for a while. Six months later, I had her knocked up—”

  Denny’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t know that.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Yeah, she was pregnant, and I wasn’t letting her leave me behind, so I told her I’d go anywhere she needed to go, but I had to be with her.”

  “How’d you get her to stay?”

  “There’s the thing—I didn’t. She made the decision by herself. I didn’t have anything to do with it. Seriously, I would have been disappointed to leave, but I would have gone anywhere I had to go. There was a lot at stake. Kid, much as I hate to see you go, you have to put your life together the way it works best for you. For you and Becca, if she’s what you want.”

  “No question about that, Jack. I love her,” he said. “But I kind of saw myself growing that farm with Jillian and growing a family in a safe, quiet place like this.”

  “Remember, son, the safest place for a family is under the umbrella of a happy marriage. That’s going to take compromise.” He smiled. “You’ll visit. This is a great place to visit. My whole family, except Brie, are city people. I can hardly keep them away.”

  “I’m going to visit,” Denny promised.

  “When are you out of here?”

  “I hate to do this to you, Jack. I’m going to tell Jillian tomorrow, offer her some suggestions for help, but she won’t be in a real fix till spring. Then I’m going to pack up my stuff and my girl and head south. We’ll leave first thing Tuesday morning. I thought about taking her home for Christmas and then coming back to tie up my loose ends, but I don’t have that much. Better to come back in spring if I can, to visit and check out the farm. But I’m leaving you high and dry during a busy time and I’m sorry. I know you were counting on me.”

  Jack was shaking his head. “Nothing to worry about, son. We can always get a little help around here.” He laughed a little. “Cheaper than you, as a matter of fact.”

  “Hey,” Denny said, smiling back. “I didn’t set any salary! You did that all on your own.”

  He chuckled. “If we get a crowd, I can always call Mike V., Walt Booth, Paul Haggerty. As for Jillian, she’s got Colin and Luke if she needs anything in a hurry. And plenty of time to look over prospective assistants before spring planting. Does Becca know this? That you’re taking her home?”

  “Sure,” he said. “We talked about it last week and I said I’d get her home in time for Christmas.”

  “Hmm,” Jack hummed, scratching his chin. “Shouldn’t she be a lot happier about it? If that’s what she wants?”

  “That could be my fault,” Denny said. “I’m pretty sure she still doubts me. When I asked her to give Virgin River a try, she asked me, what if all she had here was me and I decided we should break up. ’Course, I know I’d never be that stupid twice, but you can’t blame her for wondering if I’d let her down again. So I told her I’d get her home before Christmas. Suppose she wonders if I’ll keep my word?”

  “Then I guess the best thing to do is get on down the street, boy. Reassure your girl that if she throws her lot in with you, she’s gonna be safe.” He stuck out his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow sometime. I’ll tell Preacher to cook up something you like.”

  “That would be great.”

  “And, Denny? If the idea of leaving this little town gets you down, just stop and think about why you’re leaving. It’s worth it, son, if you found the woman you love. You’re lucky. You found her young. Got a lot of years to look forward to.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a smile. “Thanks, Jack.”

  Denny turned and left the bar.

  Jack poured himself another shot, though it was early for him to do that. He lifted his glass to the closed bar door and said, “No. Thank you.”

  There was a soft and gentle snow falling when Denny walked back to his apartment. The town Christmas tree was going to look fantastic with the lights twinkling behind a fresh layer of lacy snow. Last year, they had to knock the snow off the branches to make sure they retrieved all the unit patches when they were ready to take the tree down. Mel counted and cataloged them afterward; to miss one felt almost personal.

  He kicked the snow off his boots on the top step, then took them off before stepping into the room.

  Becca was sitting up in the bed, leaning back against the pillows, one knee drawn up and circled with her arms. He leaned against the closed door, still holding his boots. She was so beautiful. Her face was shiny from being scrubbed free of makeup before bed—she was squeaky clean and would smell of soap and lotion and taste minty fresh from her toothpaste. Though they’d been intimate when th
ey were together years ago and had managed a night together here and there, they’d never actually lived together before. He was surprised by how much he loved sharing these little rituals with her; their routine brought him such a feeling of comfort and stability.

  He couldn’t figure out how he got so lucky, to have her love him. It was even harder to figure out how he’d been insane enough to let her get away once.

  He put his boots down on the towel just inside the door and took off his jacket, hung it on the peg and headed for the bathroom. “Be right with you, honey.”

  He washed his face, brushed his teeth and ran hot water over his hands to warm them. He got down to his boxers and T-shirt and left his folded jeans and shirt on top of his trunk. Then he sat cross-legged on the bed, facing her. “How about if we pack up tomorrow and head for San Diego Tuesday morning?” he asked.

  “That would be wonderful, Denny. Thank you.”

  “I’ll go out to Jilly Farms first thing in the morning to tell her I’m leaving.”

  Becca frowned. “You haven’t told her yet? You told me last week you’d take me home by Christmas.”

  “You had your own obligations around town and to be honest, I had to figure a few things out about leaving. There’s a lot of stuff to do in the greenhouses when the temperature drops like this. And Jack’s…well, the bar has been so busy with people driving up here to get a look at that tree, I wondered how he was going to get by without my help. But Jack’s the greatest. He totally understands. He said if he needs help he can always call on some of his friends, like Brie’s husband, Mike. He even joked that his friends are a lot cheaper than I am.”

  “What if Jillian says she just can’t manage without your help?”

 

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