The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels

by Sandee Keegan

  “Ma’am, are you okay, I am so sorry! My brakes just wouldn’t work, I pumped and pumped…Oh my God, are you hurt badly? I called the police, do you need an ambulance?” Meredith held up a finger and the girl shut her mouth with a snap. She opened the door and slid her legs out one at a time. A feeling akin to compassion washed over her at the sight of the girl’s white, wide-eyed stare.

  She walked around the back of the car and saw only minor damaged to her bumper. The old Honda the girl was driving was so scarred with age, it was difficult to see if it had sustained any damage at all. She pulled the bloody tissue away from her face and noticed the bleeding was slight and already stopping on its own. By the time she saw the lights of the approaching police car, she’d phone her insurance company and helped the girl, Annie, call her mother, which apparently, was the only thing scarier than being in a car accident.

  Meredith stifled a chuckle. She could still remember the first time she’d had to make that phone call to her dad. She could still conjure those feelings just by thinking about it. She turned from the automatic shudder from the memory to see the officer walking over while Annie was still on the phone with her mom.

  He was harsh with the girl, accusing her of taking the accident lightly and talking to friends. Meredith quick-stepped back to the parked cars and positioned herself between Annie and the loud man berating her.

  “Officer, she’s a minor, and her car malfunctioned. She had the honesty to call the police herself, and even asked if I needed emergency help when my nose was bleeding. I don’t think it’s necessary to attack her. She’s on the phone with her mother, and I’m sure she’ll hang up if you ask her. I already spoke with the woman, and with her insurance company.” The cop glared at the girl, who shrank away like he’d raised a hand to strike her.

  “My brakes stopped working officer. I didn’t know what to do.” Annie finally crumpled against the hood of her ancient coupe and started to cry. “I could’ve killed someone. I could’ve died!” She hiccoughed as tears ran clean trails through her too-heavy, adolescent make-up.

  “It’s handled, and I have a tow coming for her car. If you give her a fix-it ticket, I’m sure she can produce the receipt later in court.” The cop chewed the inside of his cheek. He nodded and held up a hand to us, then bent down to look under the Honda, making a soft exclamation Meredith didn’t quite catch, from under the front end of the car.

  “Miss, your brake line is toast. You need your parents to take care of that for you.” He turned to Meredith. “You said you called for a tow truck?” She nodded. She’d told the girl’s mom she’d pay cash for the tow, and either they could pay it back or not, but she wasn’t letting Annie drive away from the accident. She’d heard the relief in the woman’s voice when she agreed and added that she would take Annie with her to the courthouse, and her mom could pick her up there. She figured all those cops would make it a safe place to wait for a ride.

  Meredith reiterated their plan to the cop, who finally relented and took their written statements and let them go, complete with the fix-it ticket for young Annie. She tried to reassure the teen that her accident was simply a rite of passage, and she’d get the chance to pay it forward someday when she was older and wiser. She parked and ran almost full out to her courtroom, paused, and took a single deep breath before the deputy opened the door for her. Not a moment too soon, for the judge appeared at the door to her chambers as Meredith sat at the table and the “all rise” was sounded.

  By five o’clock when the judge called the day over, Meredith felt twice her age and half as fun. Annie’s mom had left a check for the cost of the tow with her assistant, and the insurance company rep had left a message. All she cared about was getting back to her townhouse and soaking in a bath, with a glass of wine and some Harry Connick Jr. She’d been shortlisted for a position with a corporate law firm, and she was chomping at the bit to make the move up.

  Her boyfriend, Clark, called while she was immersed in the fragrant lavender bubbles he’d bought her for her birthday the month before. Meredith reasoned that he wouldn’t have purchased them if he wanted her to ignore his pleas to slow down and enjoy life, so she passed on the call and closed her eyes, submerging her body from the neck down in the hot water and foam.

  It wasn’t like he’d made any attempts to claim more of her time, anyway. Every time she brought up cohabitation or even leaving a toothbrush at his place, he broke into a sweat and blasted her for moving too fast. Ergo, she thought to herself in her most lawyer-like internal voice, not jumping at every phone call, and making plans without him, was simply respecting his wishes for space.

  She reached for her glass of wine and sipped from it, despite the bubbles that threatened to slide down the bowl into her mouth along with the pinot noir she’d poured herself. It had been a very long day, hopefully one of the last of its kind. She offered a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, that she be offered the job the next day.

  “If you’re there, God, and want to throw one of your lapsed Catholics a bone, I would be willing to do more than just pray if I get this job.” She spoke aloud to the ceiling as her stomach clenched and churned over the thought of not being chosen. “I will clothe the poor. I will attend mass. I will feed the hungry. Please, just please let them choose me.”

  Even though she was alone, she crimsoned at the realization that she was so desperate for the job that she was talking out loud to a God she hadn’t even thought of in years. She set the wine down on the marble tile floor and wrapped her wet torso in a soft thick towel. Retrieving her stemware from the floor, she dressed for bed and finished her wine in her recliner, still dreaming of her life once she was past this job, one way or the other. The empty glass was set next to the others on her night stand, a cluster of sad, stained glasses that told her more about her life at present than she cared to give any consideration.

  Her sleep was fretful, her dreams full of car accidents and lost criminal cases, until the sun bled around the edges of her shades and woke her up to a bright new day in the mountains overlooking Park City and Deer Valley.

  2.

  The call from MacLellan, Rowe, and Hofstetter didn’t come until late morning, with, of course, an invitation to lunch with only an hour to spare. Meredith accepted and cancelled lunch with Clark, who was only too happy to reschedule when she explained to him the reason why. He congratulated her and reassured her that of course they were offering her the job, or they would have sent her an email. He reminded her to negotiate the terms up, but not haggle too much, and told her he loved her. Meredith quickly hung up, her tongue tangled in her mouth and unable to form the words, “I love you too.”

  She checked her hair and make-up, and straightened her already perfectly professional outfit. She was glad she’d spent the extra time in front of the mirror “just in case”. Now that she’d got the call, all she had to do was not screw it up or offend anyone with her personal style or what she ordered for lunch. She wasn’t due back to court until two, so she had plenty of time to schmooze her way into a corner office and maybe even some left over after to buy a new pair of shoes to celebrate after. “Thank goodness for today to make up for yesterday,” she thought to herself as she started her car. After how the previous day had turned out, she was due for things to go her way.

  As she pulled out of the parking garage, she made note of the homeless man standing on the curb. She checked the time and decided not to call the police to clear him out unless he was still there when she returned. His dirty clothes looked like they’d never seen the inside of a washing machine. He held up a greasy chunk of cardboard that said simply, “Can’t find work. Please help.” She avoided his eyes while she waited for an opening in traffic, and hit the accelerator a little too hard as she pulled out of the parking lot onto the road. Sheepish, she checked her rearview for cops, but the coast was clear, and she made it to the restaurant in record time.

  As she pulled over to park on the narrow street, the partner from the law firm
, Mr. Rowe, and another lawyer she hadn’t met yet, parallel parked across the street from her. Glad she hadn’t kept them waiting, Meredith prayed that she didn’t come across as too desperate, and waited on the sidewalk outside the restaurant and surrounding boutiques for them to cross to her.

  Lunch was ever more positive than she’d hoped, and the offer they gave her so generous, that her half-hearted attempt to negotiate higher, which was accepted, netted her a yearly wage that was more than she thought she’d make in two years. The butterflies in her stomach danced and fluttered too much for her to eat, but she picked at the greens in a thinly veiled attempt to look less nervous than she was.

  Clark received the second phone call from her phone when she finally said goodbye to them and headed back toward her car. First she called her dad, a judge in Salt Lake City. He told her how excited he was for her, and reminded her that the point of taking the new job was to create a work life balance. Clark reiterated that thought when she called him, and asked if she finally had time to go to dinner with him so they could fit in that time together she was always whining about.

  She rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her reaction to how awful he sounded, unkind and irritable with her the day she got a big raise and promotion. No, she had no more room for his flakiness. She just had to work up the courage to break it off with him all together. For now, it was better than being alone for the holidays. As if the universe itself had heard her thoughts, snowflakes began to fall on her head as she unlocked the car and climbed in. She sat, waiting for the seat warmer to bleed precious heat through her wool skirt.

  She’d got the job. She sat, numb to the beauty of the tiny snowflakes salting her windshield as she waited for the good news to sink in. All she heard from that little voice in her head was a reminder that she’d promised to give something back if God gave her the job. “The nerve” she thought to herself. “I got the position based on my strength as a candidate, not some divine intervention.” Even so, the niggling feeling grew until she decided it was better not to test the powers that be. Besides, a little volunteer time would only make her look good to the new boss anyway.

  She finally pulled away from the curb after checking to see how much time she had to get back to court and decided she had to cut out the celebratory shoe shopping. Not that it mattered. She’d have an income and the hours to shop whenever she wanted from now on. Her heart pounded and she felt a grin practically split her face in two as she navigated the winter roads.

  The afternoon passed in a blur. Her closing was perfect, not a word out of place. Flushed and breathless, she accepted the congratulations of her soon to be ex-boss as the courtroom emptied.

  “I haven’t won yet.” She reminded him. “But, I think we got this. I feel good about it.”

  “You should,” assistant district attorney Swan replied. “You were on fire this afternoon. I don’t think the defense knew what hit them.” Meredith smiled and shook his hand. She politely turned down his offer to buy drinks, explaining that she had previous plans. He looked sincerely disappointed, and Meredith was reminded of one more thing she wouldn’t have to worry about any more, once she was gone she’d never have to fend off unwanted attention from the married assistant district attorney.

  She texted Clark that she was still running on time and rushed home to shower off the day and change into something more date-worthy. She quickly rinsed off her body and was struggling to get the back seam straight on her favorite thigh highs when Clark texted back that he’d gotten roped into a hostage dinner with clients and they’d have to celebrate the next day instead.

  Meredith looked in the mirror. Her dress was slinky and shiny, clinging to her and accentuating her thin frame to create a curvier silhouette. She turned and looked over her shoulder in the mirror at those sexy black seams that drew the eye up the back of her fit dancer’s legs, and sighed. A couple minutes later she was in her favorite college sweatshirt and jeans, pulling out of the underground parking to her condo to scrounge up some fast food. Her big day wasn’t turning out quite the way she’d hoped.

  She was stopped at a red light and glanced up at the truck that idled next to her. The broad white box of the truck was painted with a house and a slogan “You don’t need a reason to help.” With the contact information and address of the Road Home, a local community outreach program and provider of food pantries and homeless shelters. She thought back to her coming to Jesus moment in the bath the night before. “Why not?” she thought to herself.

  She turned right instead of heading straight towards the Five Guys she was headed to, and pulled over, just before the parkway that would lead her to the freeway on-ramp, to plug the Road Home into her navigation system. She glanced up and glanced in the wall of windows of the high-end restaurant she loved to go to with Clark. As she watched all the people milling about inside, she was shaken at the sight of Clark with a pretty brunette, holding hands across the table. Swallowing hard, she reached into her purse for her phone. She dialed Clark and waited. Inside, she could see him pick up his phone and then set it back down on the table. She redialed him when it hit voicemail and he repeated the action. Her chest was in a vise, but she dialed one last time, intent on leaving a message.

  He gestured angrily inside, and picked up the phone as he stepped away from the table. He stepped out of hearing of his date and accepted the call just as it was about to go to voicemail again.

  “What do you want, Mer? I told you, I’m working right now.” His voice was grating. Meredith wondered how she’d put up with the high-pitched nasal tone for so long.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt your ‘work’. I didn’t mean for you to have to get up, it looks like you were about to seal the deal with your firm’s new receptionist. Have fun, and don’t worry about calling me back. Ever. I should have no trouble filling your position.” She hung up without another word, but watched him stare out the window for a moment before she pulled away.

  With shaking hands, she maneuvered the car onto the freeway and opened her up. By the time the navigation system gave her the one mile warning for her exit, she was going almost ninety miles an hour. She eased her foot off the pedal and breathed deeply. She wasn’t hurting at the loss of him, but she was so angry that she’d let Clark treat her so poorly, and hadn’t seen that it was even worse than it appeared on the surface. She was tempted to turn around, go home, and open a bottle of wine. But the sight of the cold people waiting to be let into the shelter for the night made her stay on course.

  Glad that she had already chosen a distraction to get her past her frustration and self-pity, she parked around the corner from the homeless shelter in the parking for the nearby mall. She walked out of the garage and clutched her purse tighter as she passed people of every age and color, some with chopping carts for all their earthly belongings, some with so little it all fit in their beat-up duffel bags or backpacks.

  She rang the bell at the door over which was a sign that stated “Volunteer Entrance”. A surly looking man with a thick beard flecked with food glared out the window at her and opened the door to her. Without a word, he walked away, and lacking any other directions, Meredith hurried after him. She ended up in a mudroom outside a large industrial kitchen. He pointed to a locker with a combination taped to the outside.

  She locked her purse away and pocketed the combination and went looking for the bearded man again. Inside the kitchen were several workers in aprons and hair nets, preparing and serving food. The bearded man poked at her shoulder and pushed her toward a sink stacked high with dirty dishes. She raised her eyebrows at him, but quickly tied her hair back in a long ponytail and began scraping and rinsing dishes for the dishwasher.

  Time flew, and by the time she had the sink nearly empty, and no more dishes were coming at her, the darkness outside was broken only by the harsh street lights and the bank of security lights on the shelter wall. She grabbed the last plate, rinsed it, and set it in the rack to go through the dishwasher. As she finished,
she removed the large rubber gloves that had been there when she started and laid them back across the counter where she’d found them.

  “Hey, that’s not where you put those, c’mon, how many times do we have to go over the rules? We have to function like a real business, even if you are volunteers.” Meredith turned in surprise at the female voice chastising her.

  “I was just putting them back where I found them.” She countered. She faced the woman and planted her feet like she did in court, bracing for the fight.

  “Who the hell are you?” The woman looked genuinely surprised to see her.

  “My name is Meredith. I came down to see if you could use my help, and was put to work. No one has actually spoken to me until now.”

  “I’d ask how you got put to work, but I see the culprit standing behind you.” Meredith turned to see a now sheepish bearded mountain looking furtively from side to side as the woman stepped closer. “What was your name again?”

  “Meredith. I just happened to be driving, and thought I’d just swing by and see if there were any supplies I could donate, or if you wanted a check. I can still write a check, though I might take off a little for the dishes done tonight.” Meredith teased. The woman rubbed her hands over her face.

  “I’m Cecily. I’m sorry you got stuck in here. Jake doesn’t really do strangers, at least not well.” She gestured quickly with her hands, and the giant did the same. At least now she knew why he hadn’t said anything to her. She wouldn’t have understood him if he had. Cecily turned back to Meredith, who was fascinated by the speed with which they moved their hands.

  “I can’t blame him, the only other language I speak is Spanish, I don’t think I’ve ever actually met a deaf person before,” Meredith shrugged. “And the dishes got done, right? So, no harm, no foul as far as I can tell.”