Hope at Christmas

by Nancy Naigle

  She was cute, but not his type even if he was looking. Which he was not. “Thanks. Maybe next time.”

  “You always say that.” She pouted, and even pouting she was pretty, but the last thing he needed was a woman to distract him. He had a son to raise, and he’d already proved that he couldn’t make a marriage work. He had no intention of putting himself back in that position again no matter how difficult it was being a single parent. “Thanks for the invite. I’ve got to go pick up Seth.” He turned and made a beeline for the door.

  “If you change your mind you know where we are,” she called after him. “And if you need a sitter I can get you the name of my neighbor.”

  He gave her a quick nod as the door closed behind him.

  He hoped she wouldn’t follow him out to the parking lot. Last time she’d cornered him in the teacher’s lounge, and he’d thought he might have to hurdle her to escape.

  He reached his parking spot and climbed into the front seat of his Dodge pickup. A quick glance in his rearview confirmed there was no sign of her.

  He started the truck, drove across the block to the middle school, and parked in the last spot in the lot as he did each afternoon. A deal he’d made with Seth so as to not cramp his style. Style? At twelve? Mac didn’t remember worrying about that kind of stuff at that age. He had a feeling the older Seth got the less cool Mac was going to seem.

  As the row of yellow school buses rolled out of the lot, Seth came around the corner of the building with his camo backpack hooked under his thumbs. He was growing so fast this year that the poor guy couldn’t seem to keep any weight on him. He was tall and lanky, like Mac had been at the same age. Mac now understood why his mother always seemed to be shoving food at him as a kid. Sometimes Mac worried people might think Seth wasn’t getting enough food at home. Seth’s slender build was pretty much where Seth’s physical similarities with Mac ended. Seth had his mother’s sandy hair and green eyes, and a complexion that burned at the first kiss of sunshine.

  He and Seth exchanged manly nods and grunts as Seth jumped into the truck and slunk down in the seat, putting one of his blue Puma sneakers up on the dash.

  Mac gave him the look, and Seth dropped his foot to the floor.

  Sometimes it was nice to be able to communicate with a simple head gesture or grunt.

  “Hungry?” Mac asked.

  “Starved to death.”

  Mac lifted a brow.

  Seth rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m not starving to death. Yes. I’m hungry. Burgers from the hut?”

  Mac nodded and pulled away from the curb. During baseball season he worked a lot of nights. During the holidays, he had a special job. A secret one that Seth didn’t know about. The same one he’d had since the year Genna was pregnant with Seth. On the nights he worked, they grabbed dinner on the way home unless Seth wasn’t hungry. Then he’d just let Seth ransack the cupboards with the sitter while he was gone.

  “The usual?” Mac asked as he pulled through the drive-thru.

  Seth nodded.

  Twenty minutes later they were in front of their house. Seth had already devoured most of his fries, but Mac couldn’t be mad. The truck smelled of salty fries and freshly grilled burgers. They went inside and ate at the kitchen island.

  “Homework?” Mac asked.

  “Nope.” Seth pushed his long skater-style bangs across his face. “Christmas break’s almost here. The teachers are being cool.”

  Mac hoped his students were saying the same thing about him to their parents tonight.

  * * *

  RayAnne waved goodbye to a group of girls standing in front of the school.

  RayAnne was making friends already. Maybe she’d been worried over nothing, Sydney thought.

  RayAnne opened the car door and slung her book bag onto the floor, then flopped into the passenger seat. Not exactly the greeting Sydney had expected from the little girl who’d been skipping and waving to others just a moment ago.

  “How was your day?”

  “Fine.” RayAnne stared out the window.

  “Just fine?”

  “It was school. With no friends. What did you think it would be like?”

  “Well, aren’t you just a little slice of heaven this afternoon.” Wishing she’d kept that to herself, Sydney steadied her smile, which wasn’t all that easy with her teeth clamped. I’m the parent here. “I see you met some new friends. That’s exciting.”

  “I don’t even know them yet.”

  “It’s a start though. People are nice here, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  When all else fails, peanut butter cookies solve everything.”Brought you something.”

  RayAnne didn’t even turn to look, and did she just roll her eyes? Sydney had thought this wouldn’t happen until she was at least a teenager.

  Sydney leaned back, grabbed the bakery bag from behind the seat, and set it in RayAnne’s lap.

  RayAnne looked down at the white paper bag, and then glanced over at Sydney.

  “They’re your favorite,” Sydney said with a big smile.

  RayAnne lifted the bag. As soon as she opened it, the peanut butter smell filled the car. She couldn’t hold back a smile no matter how hard she wanted to, and Sydney silently scored one for the mom team.

  RayAnne pulled a cookie out of the bag and took a bite. “Oh. My. Gosh. These are so good.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  And there was the sweet girl she’d raised. “I’ve got another surprise for you, too.”

  RayAnne quit chewing for a three count, looking like she was searching the windshield for a guess.

  Sydney patted her leg.

  “Dad?” RayAnne asked hopefully. “He loves peanut butter cookies as much as I do, and there’s another one in the bag.”

  “No, honey.” Sydney squeezed her hand. Buying cookies for Jon was the last thing she’d do. “This doesn’t have anything to do with your dad. It’s a surprise for us. A fun one.”

  “Hope it’s better than moving to stupid Hopewell.” RayAnne’s huff hit Sydney like slap.

  1 … 2 … 3 … Sydney counted. She’s just upset. It’s not personal. “This isn’t easy on me either, you know.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  But RayAnne’s response had been low, and that was almost worse than the huffing and puffing. Why was it that Jon was the one who’d broken the marriage and yet she ended up having to be the bad guy? “We’re going to a place that I absolutely loved when I was your age.”

  “That long ago and it’s still here?”

  “Hey, it wasn’t that long ago.”

  “Like a kazillion years.” But RayAnne was smiling.

  “Only half a kazillion.”

  RayAnne took the other cookie out of the bag and happily munched on it as they drove down Main Street.

  Sydney parallel parked in the last block, and got out of the car. “Come on. It’s just up the road here, and trust me, you’re going to love this.”

  “Somehow I doubt it.” Begrudgingly, RayAnne got out, but she couldn’t have moved slower if she’d been walking on stilts … backward.

  Around each of the signposts at the street corners, wooden planter boxes were boasting winter flowers blooming in an array of colors. Pansies poured over the edge, and orange flowers with deep-purple upper petals and softer purple outlines snuggled next to equally bright orange, pink, and yellow ones. And although that wasn’t Christmas-y in the least, it somehow looked just right below the giant, green, lamppost-mounted zig-zag Z-Christmas tree art.

  Sydney was determined not to let RayAnne pass judgment until they went inside The Book Bea and got started.

  They crossed over Elm Street, and Sydney stopped in front of the sidewalk that led to The Book Bea. “Here we are.”

  RayAnne stopped. “A bookstore? Seriously, Mom?”

  “Come on. We’re going to decorate the front window for Miss Bea. It’ll put us in the Christmas spirit.”
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  “Can’t we just decorate our own house?”

  “We already talked about that,” Sydney said. “With you spending the holidays with your dad, it doesn’t make sense to buy a tree and do all that just for me.”

  “But won’t you be sad with no tree? You love Christmas.”

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. What I love, baby girl, is you.” She tapped her on the nose. “Please let’s do this. It’s a nice thing to do for Miss Bea, and I’m going to help her through the holidays. Besides, we always have fun decorating together. It’s tradition.”

  “This is not our tradition. Dad should come here, or we can both go there. Then we can have tradition.”

  “That would be awkward with your dad’s girlfriend hanging around, don’t you think?”

  “You could stay in a hotel. She’d go away when she saw what a great family we are together.”

  “That’s not going to happen. You need to put that thought right out of your mind.”

  “You’d have fun skiing with us. Remember how we—”

  “RayAnne…” Sydney’s hands balled tight. She was tired of remembering all those things that would never be again. She shook her hands out and took a breath, trying to steady her voice. “I know you wish things would change, but your dad made his decision. He’s moved on. It changes my life with him, but not yours.”

  “It’s not fair. You shouldn’t give up. You’re prettier than she is. You have to try.”

  “Oh sweetie, it’s not about who’s pretty.” Did anything good ever really come out of a divorce? Because it felt like there was nothing but constant readjusting and shifting to keep things from collapsing. “It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand. Heck, even I don’t really understand.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “Well, you know what? You’re right, but it’s what we’ve got to deal with, kiddo.” She wrapped her arm around her daughter. The sweet little girl that she and Jon had worked so hard to have. She never thought she’d be raising her alone. “Now come on. Humor me. We’ll both feel better.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Well, then let your half-a-kazillion-year-old mom feel better, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Great.” She took RayAnne’s hand. “Miss Bea has owned this bookstore since I was a little girl. I used to love coming here. It’s a cool old house, and she’s a sweet old lady. She needs our help. We’re going to decorate this place like it’s never been decorated before!”

  “Okay.” RayAnne conceded.

  “I knew you’d like the idea.” Sydney and RayAnne walked up to the door of The Book Bea hand in hand. “We’re back,” Sydney called out as she pushed open the front door.

  “Right here, girls.” Bea placed a gold-rimmed teacup on the counter. “You must be RayAnne.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It is so nice to meet you.” She reached for RayAnne’s hands and took them into her own. “You are such a beautiful young lady.” The old woman glanced over at Sydney then back at RayAnne. “I can see the resemblance. You two could almost be sisters.”

  RayAnne laughed nervously. “Thank you.”

  “I appreciate your help so much. This decorating is a bit overdue actually. I’m a little worn out these days, as much as I hate to admit it.”

  “Mom and I are a good team. We’ll turn this place into a winter wonderland.”

  “You two are angels coming to help me like this.”

  “I think I like being an angel,” RayAnne said.

  ”I wonder, Sydney, if you wouldn’t mind if I headed on home while you two work on the window. I think I’ll just close a little early tonight.”

  “We wouldn’t mind at all. But I can take care of any customers that come in while we’re here.”

  “Would you?”

  “Of course. It would be our pleasure.”

  “You’re already doing so much.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’re just getting settled in this town. It will be nice for us to have a mother-daughter project and meet some new neighbors while we’re at it.”

  “Well, in that case I’m going to let you girls get to it. Do you have your key?”

  “I sure do. We’ll lock up when we leave.”

  Bea started making her way slowly toward the door, then stopped. “Did your mother tell you about the Christmas caroling, RayAnne?”

  “No ma’am.”

  “Ask her about it. I think you should plan on coming. It’s really a lot of fun. Oh, and there’s a little treat of some kind at each stop. Like hot chocolate or cookies or candy. And singing. Lots of singing of Christmas carols.” Bea wagged a finger at Sydney. “Tell her all about it. “

  “I like to sing. Mom, can we?”

  “Of course, if you haven’t already left to go spend the holiday with your dad. We’ll check the calendar.”

  RayAnne bounced. “And Miss Bea, if I’m here we can help you that night, too.”

  “That would be delightful. We’ll all have a glorious time. Caroling in Hopewell is quite magical really.” Bea’s eyes danced. “My sweet husband started the tradition. He had such a wonderful voice. Deep and pure as a church organ. When he sang ‘O Holy Night’ … everyone fell silent and listened. Still hits me right in the heart when I think of it.” She closed her eyes and raised her hand to her heart as if she could hear him singing right at that moment.

  Sydney glanced over at RayAnne, who nodded and reached for her mother’s hand.

  “I miss him still. Especially at the holidays.”

  “How long has he been gone?” Sydney asked.

  “Twenty-one years.”

  “That’s a long time ago,” RayAnne said.

  “Yes, it is dear, but the heart doesn’t forget so quickly.” Bea’s eyes teared. “You know, Sydney, don’t confuse someone misusing trust or honesty with your ability to love or be loved. That’s very different. You gals don’t work too late.”

  Sydney heard Bea’s advice. But Bea didn’t know what it was like to have her heart trampled, and once was enough. Sydney watched Bea walk down the sidewalk to her car, then Sydney turned toward RayAnne in the empty store and did a cheerleader leap into the air. “Okay, you ready for this?”

  “Mom. You are not a cheerleader anymore.”

  And darn if her daughter hadn’t looked around like she’d have been embarrassed for anyone to have seen that. “Don’t be a party pooper. It’s Christmas! We can have as much fun as we want.” She wrapped her hands around each of RayAnne’s wrists, leaned back and started side-stepping until they were both turning in a circle so fast that the bookshelves seemed to make a colorful kaleidoscope around them. “Remember doing this?”

  Laughing like twin schoolgirls, they stopped twirling in a flurry of huffs and giggles and fell onto the floor. “You’re crazy, Mom!”

  “We need more fun like this, kiddo. Don’t you think?”

  Sydney got up from the floor, half out of breath, and walked over to the stack of dusty boxes.

  “Are those boxes full of decorations?” RayAnne said. “Doesn’t look like very many.”

  Sydney pulled her mouth to the side and made a funny face. “Yes, and some of them are pretty old. We might have to get creative.”

  “Well, Miss Bea is pretty old, too. I’m glad we’re here to help her.” RayAnne walked over to the boxes and then ran her fingers over the Christmas tree. “Mom, this is kind of icky.”

  “I know. Maybe we can clean it.” Sydney plucked a couple tissues from a box on the counter. “See what you can do.”

  RayAnne worked on the tree for a good thirty minutes while Sydney unpacked the decorations, setting the prettiest stuff aside for the front window.

  Sydney walked over and turned the sign on the door to CLOSED and turned the lock. “How’s it going, kiddo?”

  RayAnne pressed the tissue against the dusty needles and wiped at the residue. “Not so good. Look.”

  Sydney peered closer, then moaned. “Think p
eople would believe that’s snow?”

  “Nope,” she said. “Not even with a sign that said it was snow.” A second attempt with some glass cleaner didn’t yield any better results. “This is a disaster, Mom.”

  “I have an idea,” Sydney said. “I passed a sign earlier today that said they are selling Christmas trees at some place called Santa’s Village. Let’s go see how much a live tree will cost.”

  Chapter Three

  Mac crumpled the wrappers from their dinner and stuffed them into the paper bag, which he then tossed from the dining room into the trash can in the kitchen.

  Never missed.

  Never failed to perk him up, either.

  He checked his watch. “Hey, Seth, I’ve got about an hour to kill before I have to head to work tonight. Want to go four-wheeling?”

  Seth bolted back into the room, his eyes wide. “Heck, yeah!”

  “Go change clothes. I’ll meet you out front.”

  Seth was bounding up the stairs, leaving the scent of ketchup and french fries in his wake, before Mac could even get out of his chair. Mac wished Seth would react like that when they talked about Christmas, but instead he always shut down. Seth’s mom, Genna, had left them on Christmas Eve. It had been a long time ago, but the scar remained.

  Mac went to the garage and pulled the two four-wheelers to the driveway. His property was only two acres, but it backed up to a twenty-five-acre tract that had once been part of a golf course. The owners’ kid had been one of Mac’s star first basemen at Hopewell High and went on to get a scholarship to Duke. The kid’s parents had been so happy about that scholarship that they’d given Mac permission to use that property whenever he wanted. The first year he and Seth had hiked every inch of it, and even camped out. It was like having your own Boy Scout campground in the backyard.

  Back then Seth had been easy to impress. Impressing a twelve-year-old was a bit tougher. But the four-wheelers had been just as exciting for Mac as they had been for Seth.

  Seth hopped from the top stair to the garage floor.

  “You’re gonna break your fool neck one of these days.” But Mac was joking because he’d been exactly the same way, adventurous to a fault, when he was that age.