Hope at Christmas

by Nancy Naigle

  “Some relationships are just like that. One person does all the deciding and the other compromises. I was lucky. My Henry and I both compromised.”

  “That’s nice.” She wondered whether, if she’d been a better negotiator, she might have had a different relationship with Jon. But leaving her parents’ house to go to college, and then straight to getting married to Jon, there’d been little chance of that. He’d always led the way. Made the decisions.

  It didn’t matter, though, because it was over now. Some little part of her was always looking for some logic to what had happened. There just wasn’t any.

  “RayAnne didn’t come with you today?”

  “No. She’s with her school friends again. She’s going to join them for the caroling, too.”

  “You should join them. It’s a wonderful experience.”

  “No. I want to be here to help you. Besides, RayAnne will probably have more fun without me.”

  “True. They grow up so fast these days. Does she still believe in Santa?”

  “I wasn’t sure until we went to Santa’s Village on Saturday. That Santa’s either the real deal, or that water bottle he was slugging from was filled with vodka, because I’ve never seen a Santa enjoy his job that much.”

  “That’s right. You went on Saturday, didn’t you? He’s our very best Santa Claus.” Bea laughed. “I hadn’t put that together until just now.”

  “Put what together?”

  “Oh nothing, just that it’s so nice that RayAnne is making new traditions here in Hopewell. And that you are, too,” Bea said.

  “RayAnne came down from her visit with Santa convinced he was the real one, which surprised me. I’d been preparing myself for this to be the year she realized it was a hoax.”

  “I think most kids will believe as long as we let them. It’s peer pressure that usually breaks the magic. Speaking of magic, you and Mac seem to be becoming pretty good friends too. I sense a little bit of magic there.”

  “No. Just friends. That picnic today was really thoughtful, though.” Her heart fluttered as she reflected on the gift, the champagne, the food. Paris might have to really step up to beat that. “I’ll be right back.” She went over to the tree and rescued the ornament Mac had given her. She couldn’t risk it getting broken or lost. She brought it back over and showed it to Bea. “Isn’t this pretty?”

  Bea lifted her glasses and looked closely. “Ahhh. Père Noël. Father Christmas. Where did you find that?”

  She twisted it in her fingers to face her. “Mac gave it to me. I don’t know where he got it.”

  “Exquisite. I’m sure he got it in one of the shops over at Santa’s Village. They have all kinds of unique stuff over there.”

  “We didn’t get a chance to walk through every shop when we were there.”

  “Oh, you have to. And go at night when it’s all lit up.”

  Sydney placed the ornament in the top of her purse.

  “I think he’s smitten with you, dear.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I barely know him.”

  “Doesn’t seem ridiculous to me. I knew the first time I spoke to Henry there was going to be something special there. I didn’t know exactly what it was going to be, but you can’t discount those kinds of connections. Certainly, you’ve felt it. I could feel it from across your kitchen the other night.”

  “Oh, stop it, Bea. That’s crazy.”

  “If there’s one thing this old gal can recognize, it’s a connection. I’d call it love, but I’ll wait and see.”

  “The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers.”

  “So what? You afraid you’ll hurt Jon’s feelings?” Bea got up out of her chair. “The way I see it, you’ve got two years of catching up to do, Sydney.”

  Sydney stood there feeling a little dumbstruck as she watched Bea slowly make her way over to the teapot.

  Catching up to do? That made it sound like a race. She was certainly not in a hurry to make another mistake.

  “I can hear you overthinking it from all the way over here,” Bea called out.

  Wasn’t the first time Bea had made a comment that made Sydney think that the old woman was a mind reader.

  “Wouldn’t kill you to have a good time, ya know. Let Hopewell breathe new life into you. Take some chances.”

  “Thanks for the advice, but I’m just fine. And I’ve got plenty to do that’s fun. I love helping you here in this shop.”

  “Why are you so afraid to move on?” Tea threatened to go splish-splashing over the side of the delicate teacup with every wobbly step she made back over to the register.

  “Because I’m a mom. My focus is exactly where it’s supposed to be right now. And I’m happy.” Sydney could see the doubt in Bea’s eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “You can have it all. I did. Well, not the blessing of a daughter like RayAnne. But the rest. Just do me a favor. Trust your heart.”

  “No one has it all.”

  Bea raised a brow. “Not true, my dear. Maybe you should ask Santa for exactly what you want.” She lowered herself into the chair and sipped the tea.

  Sydney couldn’t picture herself acting like those two women the other day that had made fools of themselves going to sit on Santa’s lap. That was the last thing she was going to do.

  “I’m going to have my hands full here, that is, if you’re still going to work with me on taking over The Book Bea when you’re ready.”

  “I’m counting on that, dear.”

  “I was up all last night thinking about it.”

  “Really? I’d have thought you might have been thinking about Mac all night.”

  “You never give up. Seriously. Let’s switch subjects. I made something for you last night. Let me show you.” She grabbed her laptop from the cabinet under the register where she kept her purse and placed it on top. “I made a website. The Book Bea is now officially on the Internet.”

  Bea leaned in closer. “How did you do that?”

  “Stayed up all night last night working on it. Come look.”

  Bea placed her tea aside and stood. She stared at the screen, her mouth moving as she read the words. “You did this? In one night?”

  “I did.”

  “That was so fast. Where did you get the money to do that?”

  “Didn’t cost much at all. I did it myself.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “And look. We can start putting the community things that we host here on the calendar.”

  “I’ll be darned.” Bea folded her arms. “Can people look at that from their little phones? Everyone is always tapping on those things.”

  “They sure can.” Sydney got her phone out of her purse and brought up the website. She handed the phone to Bea. “See?”

  “My goodness. I knew you were going to take The Book Bea to the next level.”

  “You like it?”

  “Like it? No.” Bea shook her head. “I don’t like it at all. I love it. This is wonderful. Exactly what we need.”

  “You really don’t mind?”

  “No, darling. I’m thrilled that you are ready to make this store your own. It’s time. Actually, it’s long overdue. I’ve been waiting for you to come along.”

  Sydney wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but before she could ask, the chimes overhead caught her attention and the mayor walked inside, followed by the UPS man.

  The mayor raised a hand in the air. “Ahh, so good to see you both here today. I’m just doing a quick and personal check with each of the merchants to be sure they’re ready for the big night.”

  “We’re ready,” Bea said proudly.

  “You should have plenty of song sheets, but we’ll know up at the front end of the line if things are running low. We have a plan, so don’t worry. Someone will be around with more if needed.” The mayor checked a list on a small spiral notebook. “And the first carolers will come through at seven o’clock.” He took a CD out of a small box he’d been carrying. “O Christmas Tree.
This one is yours.”

  Sydney took the CD. “Thanks. I think we’ve got everything we need then.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I’m going to sign for the package. Excuse me,” Sydney said as she listened from within earshot of them.

  He rubbed his gloved hand under his chin. “Now, the new gal did tell you we needed more treats, didn’t she? I really should have checked with you sooner.”

  “Of course she did. You can count on Sydney just as much as you count on me, Mayor. We’re two peas in a pod. We finished up all of the treats Monday night. Had quite a little factory assembly line going. Want yours now?”

  “Could I?” he rubbed his hands together. “Yours are my favorite.”

  “I have a feeling this is the best batch yet. Sydney is pretty amazing. She’s going to do great things with my store.”

  “I’m glad you have some help that you trust.”

  Bea walked over to the boxes of chocolate-covered pretzels and pulled out one with light-blue sugar sprinkles over white chocolate. “Here you go. Matches those pretty blue Sinatra eyes of yours,” Bea said.

  “Thanks. My daughter says my eyes are like Bret Michaels, but Sinatra works, too.”

  “Either way, you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. Only reason I ever vote for you, to be honest.”

  “Bea, you did not just say that,” Sydney walked up behind them. “That’s not true, Mayor. She’s always singing your praises.”

  Bea laughed. “Keeping him humble. It’s what we old gals do.”

  The mayor unwrapped the pretzel stick and took a bite. “Mmmm. She’s right. Sydney, these are even better than normal. My goodness. What’s the secret?”

  “Teamwork,” Sydney said with a smile. “And true friends.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tuesday night Sydney set up social media accounts for The Book Bea. She friended and linked up with every name she could remember from her interactions around town and the store so far, and by morning The Book Bea had almost fifty “likes” on the brand-new Facebook page, and just as many followers on the other social media sites.

  “That was fast.” Satisfaction filled her. Even just a week ago she had no idea that she could spend a little bit of time to help someone else and feel so much in return. This social media stuff was second nature to folks back home, but it was a whole new ball game in Hopewell.

  She pulled her knees up on the couch and continued to post pictures she’d taken while the gang was there making Bea’s famous pretzel treats. The assembly line looked pretty impressive, and darn if her mouth wasn’t watering just a little at all that sugary sweet goodness. The colorful edible adornments looked festive, and Bea looked vibrant. Sydney opened the app and added the Christmas caroling event to the calendar page of TheBookBea.com website.

  “What ya doing, Mom?” RayAnne was wearing her red pajamas with the white snowflakes on them.

  “Updating the website I made for The Book Bea.”

  “You really like that place. It makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

  Sydney paused. “Yes. I guess it does.”

  RayAnne stood quietly, then nodded slowly. “That Santa has some tricks up his sleeve I think.” RayAnne walked over and gave Sydney a hug. “I love you.”

  “Are you trying to butter me up for a last-minute addition to your wish list?”

  “No. I’m just happy because you’re happy.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  “Jenny called and asked if her mom can pick me up here before you go to work. She has to go drop something off to her husband and will be right near here. I told her yes, is that okay?”

  “Sure. I hope you’re helping out while you’re over there. You’re spending a lot of time together.”

  “I am. Her mom likes us being around. Plus Zach plays with us. I think it helps.”

  “Good.” RayAnne had always wanted a little brother, so Sydney wasn’t all that surprised that she’d taken to Zach so quickly.

  “It’s like having a bigger family. It’s fun.”

  “Yeah,” Sydney said. “I always thought a big family would be fun, too.”

  “Thanks for letting me hang out with them. Do you think we could go shopping this week and get presents for them?”

  “Sure. That’s really thoughtful of you. There were some cute shops in Santa’s Village. Maybe we go back there and take a look around first. Whatever makes you happy.”

  “I am happy, Mom. This has turned out to be my best Christmas break yet. I want you to be happy, too,” RayAnne said. “I told Santa that.”

  “RayAnne? Why did you tell Santa that? What makes you think I’m not happy?”

  “Because I know. I’m a kid, but I know.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me, kiddo. I’ve got you, and you make me happy. And Santa has plenty to worry about without you telling him about me.” How embarrassing. “That visit was supposed to be about your wish list.”

  “I know,” RayAnne said. “I told Santa if Dad’s not getting me a four-wheeler he could get me one.”

  Sydney was relieved to hear the car pull up in the driveway just then so she wouldn’t have to discuss that darned four-wheeler again. They’d had fun with Mac and Seth, but having one around all the time would make her a nervous wreck.

  She walked out to the minivan with RayAnne. Diane rolled the window down, while RayAnne raced around to the other side to get in. “Do you want me to bring RayAnne back before the caroling tonight? I was thinking she could just stay with us today, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I’m beginning to feel bad. You’re doing so much.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. You’d do the same for me. It’s how we do things around here. It takes a village and all that.” Diane leaned out the window. “Trust me, it’s been so nice to have RayAnne around to keep mine busy. I’m getting a ton done.”

  Jenny poked her head between the seats. “We’re going to practice carols today.”

  “See?” Diane said with delight in her eyes.

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll see you tonight.”

  * * *

  And if teamwork was Sydney Ragsdale’s secret weapon for making Bea’s famous chocolate-covered pretzel rods, it was just the right ingredient for Wednesday night when the caroling started, too.

  She’d brought a thick warm quilt from home and a heating pad to fix up one of the rocking chairs on the porch for Bea. Traditions at The Book Bea were important, and now she was a part of that.

  Bea deserved a front row seat to this show, and from there she could point folks to the music sheets, too.

  By a quarter to seven Sydney had helped Bea get everything arranged for the event.

  Bea sat down in the rocking chair. “This is toasty. You are spoiling me, Sydney.”

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

  Bea rocked. “Henry would love that this is still going on. He was as big a sucker for a good tradition as I am. Are you watching from up there, Henry?”

  And there it was again. Like Bea had read her mind about the importance of tradition.

  Sydney paced, unsure of what the night would hold. Being a part of The Book Bea for the event tonight held its own special charm. She was making a memory that would last forever.

  At seven o’clock on the dot voices rose into the air, drifting up the block. The crisp night was filled with song and something sweet in the air. Maybe it was just the huge inventory of chocolate-dipped pretzels, but somehow it seemed different than just that. Her heart tapped out a beat, kind of a little “Joy To The World,” as she anticipated their first group of carolers venturing up the walkway to The Book Bea tonight.

  The air was nippy. If it were just a little bit colder they may have seen a few flurries, but so far the temperature was hovering closer to forty.

  The Book Bea was the fifth caroling stop. From here she could hear the groups singing each song. That wouldn’t be the case once carolers started showing
up on their doorstep. Then she’d hear “O Christmas Tree” over and over again, which was just fine by her, too.

  Hopewell held a gentle spirit and she was so thankful she’d been brave enough to try to start over here. Her heart felt light and peaceful.

  A group of carolers chatted as they walked up the pathway toward her. The leader of the group wore a long black coat, a top hat, and a striped scarf like he’d time-travelled right out of A Christmas Carol.

  He stepped up to the porch. “Madam?”

  “Here you go.” Bea passed him a stack of song sheets.

  He promptly passed them out to everyone in the group. Bea reached for Sydney’s hand and squeezed it. The man in the top hat gave Bea a nod, and she pressed the button on the old CD player. A boom box really. Could you even buy those things anymore? The town of Hopewell probably had a monopoly on the last of them.

  The music began and he led his group in the prettiest rendition of “O Christmas Tree” Sydney had ever heard. Young voices, old voices, some totally off-key and some mixing up the words even though they were reading them off the sheet, but together it was nothing short of heavenly.

  Afterward, Sydney carried the large basket of treats to the base of the stairs and handed out the goodies, wishing each caroler a Merry Christmas.

  “Awesome,” A young boy said as he high-fived another kid. “Told you they’d have them.”

  A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair who had to be at least forty took his and saluted Bea. “You’re still the love of my life,” he said.

  “You go on,” Bea said with a laugh.

  It was obvious from the comments and from the delight in the face of each caroler that they really had been waiting all year for Miss Bea’s famous chocolate-covered pretzel rods.

  It had been so much fun making them, but Sydney was even more proud to be a part of the special holiday memory now.

  She carried the basket back up the stairs and sat on the porch rail across from Bea. “Wow. That was so pretty.” She ran a hand up her arm. “Gave me chills.”

  “And with no practice. Just joyful hearts.”