Ha! Too late for that, Miss Piggy, sneered Marvella.
Yeah, it probably was.
Later that afternoon she met Ben at his cousin’s office on the first floor and signed the papers that declared their deal done. It was the frosting on the red velvet cake when Ben smiled at her and said, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at quarter to.” She practically floated back to her car.
This called for a celebration. Hot chocolate! She swung by Pineland Supermarket to pick up some cocoa mix.
She’d gotten her cocoa and was at the holiday display contemplating a candy cane to go with it when she heard a familiar female voice on the other side. “You’d think after what Yvonne put him through that he’d be more careful, but no, here he is chasing another user.”
Noel stiffened. She knew that voice and she knew who the user was. Sure enough, she rounded the display and saw Mrs. Fordham talking on her phone, her hand hovering over the cans of Almond Roca.
Doesn’t eat chocolate, huh? sneered Marvella.
Crud. Of all the people to run into! Noel started to back away.
You have to face her sometime, Marvella said. Suck it up and be brave.
Marvella was right. And wasn’t this what she and her alter ego were always telling the children in her books? Be brave and face your fears.
You can do it. You created me.
Yes, she could. She cleared her throat. “Hello, Mrs. Fordham.” She almost added that it was nice to see the woman, but that would’ve been stretching it.
Mrs. Fordham gave a start and nearly dropped her phone. She recovered quickly, putting on a frosty expression. “I’ll call you back,” she said into her phone. “Noel.”
Her name had never sounded like a dirty word before. This was hardly encouraging, but she plunged on. “Are you stocking up for the holidays?”
“My son likes these,” the other woman said stiffly.
Noel was tempted to thank her for the tip and grab a can, but there was no point in deliberately provoking her so she resisted, simply nodding.
“It would appear that you and he have come to some sort of agreement.”
Noel could tell how much she approved of that. “Yes, we have. He’s carrying my contract and I’m paying him the going interest rate.”
“Very noble of you, considering you got the house for a song.”
“So did he,” Noel pointed out.
This didn’t endear her to Mrs. Fordham. She looked ready to run Noel over with her grocery cart. “Well, I hope you’re happy.”
“I am, actually. But I’m not just happy about the house. I like your son.” There. She’d said it. “I like him a lot.”
Mrs. Fordham stabbed a well-manicured finger at her. “Do not even think that you are going to start something with my son.”
Noel’s knees were feeling very weak. She gripped the handle of her shopping basket with both hands. “I know about his ex-wife. I’m not like her.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I doubt anyone can fool you, Mrs. Fordham. I know what it’s like to be used. It’s not fun. And yes, I’ll admit, when I first met Ben my goal was to convince him to let me have my house. I love it and I want to stay there.”
The older woman’s expression said, “I knew as much.”
“But I came to realize that I had to let go of that dream. And I would have. Your son was really generous and offered to sell the house to me at a price I can afford. And in the end, I took him up on the offer. But I was willing to walk away, and you need to know that.”
“You got it anyhow,” Mrs. Fordham sneered.
“I did.”
“Then you can go on your way,” Mrs. Fordham said airily and started to wheel her cart down the aisle.
“I don’t want to go anywhere.”
Mrs. Fordham stopped, ready to breathe fire on Noel.
“I meant it when I said I like your son. He’s a nice man.”
“And he deserves a nice woman.”
Noel raised her chin. “I am a nice woman.” Mrs. Fordham looked extremely doubtful and Noel continued. “I don’t want to rip him off. I would never do what his ex did. And I happen to like children. I write books for them for a living.”
Mrs. Fordham cocked an eyebrow. “You do? Ben didn’t tell me that.”
You were probably so busy dissing me, he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “I do. It hasn’t made me rich, but it’s enough to cover my bills and it’ll be enough to pay Ben what I owe him.” Mrs. Fordham didn’t say anything and Noel went on. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I understand your wanting to protect your son from being hurt. I guess I’d feel the same way if I were you. I can only tell you I’m not out to do that. You don’t know me very well, but you can believe me when I say that. I’m hoping eventually you will.”
Whew, that had been a big speech. Noel found she was suddenly out of words. Mrs. Fordham didn’t seem inclined to give her a hug and say, “Let’s be friends,” so she scurried away to the checkout stand, reminding herself that dragons didn’t slay easily. If things didn’t work out between her and Ben, it wouldn’t matter whether or not Mrs. Fordham liked her, anyway.
If they did work out, she’d have to find Santa next year and ask him to give the woman a new heart. For now, Noel had been brave, and that was all that mattered.
She was waiting in line when Riley called in response to her earlier text. “You got your house! I’m thrilled for you.”
“I know. I’m so excited.” There was the understatement of the century.
“How’d you finally wear down the evil house-flipper?”
“Actually, I think it was more a case of him wearing me down. I was ready to let it go.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to,” Riley said.
“Me, too. And I did invite him to your reception. He’s coming with.”
“You are not wasting any time. When did this all happen?”
“Last night. We had a serious talk. I confessed about trying to butter him up and...”
“That worked?” Riley sounded shocked.
“What can I say? He’s got a bigger heart than I ever thought. I still can’t believe how everything turned out.”
“I’m glad. You deserve it.”
“I was wrong about him. He’s been so wonderful to me, and he’s so handsome and he’s just...”
“Perfect?”
“Yeah, I think maybe he is. Perfect for me, anyway. I know it sounds dumb, but I keep thinking about what that Santa said when we went to see him.”
“He promised you your house.”
“And a good man to go with it. Kind of a strange coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I have to admit it is.”
“Of course, that’s all it is. I mean, who believes in Santa at our age?”
Women who talk to their imaginary characters? Marvella suggested.
“Nobody in her right mind,” Riley said. “But I still believe in love.”
“Considering what Sean did to you, that’s saying something.”
“Things have a way of working out for the best. I think there’s someone better out there for me.”
“Like the golf pro you ran into?” Noel couldn’t resist teasing. “Are you seeing him tonight?”
“No, not until tomorrow.”
“So, nothing to do tonight?”
“Only my nails. Want to hang out?”
“Absolutely.”
“Come on over, then.”
“Great. I’ll bring the cocoa mix.” It was still too early to be sure, but Noel strongly suspected they both had a promising future to toast.
Chapter Nineteen
Am I a bitch? Jo texted her sister.
Of course no
t, came the reply.
I don’t want to go tonite. I think that means I’m a bitch.
It means you’re tired. You’ll have fun once you get there.
Jo hoped so. It was time to hang out with the in-laws. Mike’s mom had planned the dinner for this evening so as not to interfere with Riley’s big bash on Saturday. Always considerate of others, that was Georgia.
Mike’s brother and sister would both be present at dinner and it would be a full-on Michael Wilton Admiration Society meeting. And rightly so. He’d given his little brother, Rich, (who was now six foot four,) countless basketball tips and spent hours on the half court in the family’s backyard, helping him become the star of the Whispering Pines Otters and go on to win a basketball scholarship to Seattle U. He’d watched over his sister’s love life like a hawk, chasing away the bad guys and bringing around good ones. She’d finally married one of them, his best friend, Charlie. Mike was the perfect son who never gave his parents any trouble and now he was the epitome of noble, serving his country. No one else in the family (besides her) would even dream of asking him to give up his naval career.
Jo, who’d been readily accepted and loved from the day Mike first brought her home to meet the parents, had felt her popularity slipping after she complained about his being gone so much. As a result, she wasn’t looking forward to this family gathering. She also hated taking the baby out so soon. The little guy was only two weeks old. What if he caught a cold?
“He’ll be fine,” Mike kept telling her. What did he know?
She bundled up the baby and, with the diaper bag stocked with diapers and baby wipes, they drove to his parents’ house, which was only a few blocks away from her parents’ house. “Handy for holidays,” Mike had predicted and he’d been right.
The Wilton home was a two-story brick Tudor with a charming arched front door accented with stone, stucco and half-timbering. Someday Jo wanted to upgrade to a house like it, with lots of character and at least three bedrooms so they could have more kids. But...what was the point of a bigger house with more bedrooms and more kids and more chaos if Mike wasn’t there to share it with her?
“We are gonna have fun, aren’t we?” he asked as they parked in front.
Fun had been rather a sporadic thing since his arrival. She’d swung from delight that he was back to resentment that he was back for such a short time. She’d found interesting job possibilities in the paper—everything from security guard positions to openings at the shipyard in Bremerton, which wouldn’t be much more than a forty-minute commute—and printed them out, leaving them on the kitchen table for Mike. Her discoveries hadn’t exactly inspired gratitude. They’d squabbled, and then made up, only to squabble some more. The baby was sleeping four hours at a stretch, which was good, but once she was awake to feed him at 2:00 a.m. she had a hard time shutting off her brain, which was bad. She was feeling sleep-deprived, put-upon and cranky—and guilty for being such a crummy navy wife. The guilt made her even crankier.
No crankiness tonight, she told herself and pulled up a smile for her husband. “Of course we are.”
He smiled back. Put that smile up on Wikipedia under “relieved.” Poor guy. This should be a happy time for him, back home with his family and a new baby, and here she was the human cloud, raining on everything.
He took her hand and kissed it. “I love you, babe.”
“I love you, too.” The big question was, did she love him enough to hang in there if he re-upped? And did he love her enough not to? Ugh.
They got out of the car and he carried Mikey up to the house. Mike was always holding that baby, every chance he had. Oh, Mike, how can you stand the thought of leaving him?
“Well, look who’s here,” boomed his dad, throwing the front door open wide. “Come in. Let’s see the little bugger.”
The scent of a freshly cut tree rushed out to greet them. The folks still believed in putting up a real fir, and inhaling the fragrance, Jo understood why. Still, she’d stick with her fake tree. It was a good one and she didn’t have to worry about picking needles out of the carpet.
They were barely inside before Mike’s dad had the baby. Darrel Wilton was as wide as he was tall, and in his big arms the baby looked practically microscopic.
Georgia was right behind him. “How sweet. You know, he looks just like Mike when he was a baby. Here, let’s get that snowsuit off him before he roasts to death,” she said and took the baby into the living room, laying him on the couch and stripping him out of his fleecy outerwear like a pro. After three kids, of course, she was.
Brother Rich and his wife were already there, and so was Mike’s sister, Tanya, with her husband and toddler in tow. Everyone was dressed in holiday sweaters and beaming. A huge tree sat in the corner, decked out in colored lights and a lifetime of collected ornaments, a few presents already under it, awaiting the big day. It made Jo think of a movie set with actors ready to spring into action.
Which they did the minute Mike and Jo entered the room. Mike and Rich exchanged bro hugs and Tanya hung on to him as if he’d been gone for years. Her son came up to the couch to check out his cousin and sneezed, and Jo almost had a heart attack.
She practically snatched him away from Georgia.
“Don’t worry,” said Tanya. “We think it’s allergies.”
Don’t worry? Was she kidding? “I don’t want to take any chances,” Jo said. “He needs to eat, anyway,” she added and slipped away to the guest bedroom to nurse Mikey and compose herself. Oh, man, it was going to be a long night.
It was, indeed. Everyone wanted to hold the baby and Jo fretted with each new pair of germy hands that took him.
When she wasn’t worrying about the baby, she was feeling guilty that she hadn’t given her husband a better welcome home. His brother had brought Mike’s favorite wine; his mom had made pot roast with all the trimmings, his favorite meal. Why hadn’t Jo done that? His sister had made fudge and his dad was talking about a guys’ night out at the bowling alley. The prince was back.
Well, it was good that someone was fussing over him, since his own wife hadn’t done much of anything but complain.
“How long are you home, son?” his dad asked. He asked the same question every time.
The answer was the same. “Three months.”
“It always goes so fast,” Georgia said, rubbing his arm.
I’m not the only one who hates to lose him, Jo thought. Why, in all these years, had that never occurred to her? Of course, it had to be hard for his mother to let go. She was so upbeat though, never complained. In fact, her mother-in-law was so darned perfect that if she didn’t know better Jo would have sworn she was an android.
After dinner, it was time for the Wilton Christmas tradition and out came Georgia’s DVD of It’s a Wonderful Life. Jo had heard of the movie but never seen it before she met Mike. She sure knew it well now, and while it had been okay the first couple of times, after all these years...ugh. But this was Mike’s big homecoming dinner and no way was she going to spoil it.
“Before we start the movie, we have a little something for you,” Georgia said. She got a small present from under the tree and handed it to Mike. He opened it and pulled out an ornament in the shape of a bear holding a blue blanket. Mikey’s First Christmas was printed on the blanket.
Mike grinned as if he’d been given a million dollars. “Look, babe. His first Christmas present.”
“It’s really cute,” Jo said. And it had been sweet of Georgia to get it. Jo suspected they’d receive a similar offering from her parents. No one could say this baby wouldn’t be loved, with two families to dote on him and a dad who already adored him.
And would be gone in three months. Jo sighed.
“Oh, you’re tired,” Georgia said.
Yeah, she was. Both physically and emotionally.
“Would you li
ke me to take the baby?”
Georgia was dying to hold her grandson. Jo turned the baby over to her, and sat next to Mike on the couch and prepared to be bored. He placed an arm around her and snuggled her against him and for a moment she forgot to be cranky. She had her husband beside her, they had a new baby and it was Christmas. How could she be cranky at Christmas?
The opening credits began to roll and the chatter died down as everyone settled in to watch Clarence the angel get his wings and George Bailey get a clue. Jo wasn’t much for analyzing stories—she came to Arlene’s book club but mostly for the wine and appetizers; half the time she didn’t get around to reading the book—but tonight she noticed something in the movie’s plot that she’d never noticed before. (Besides the fact that dirty rotten Mr. Potter never got caught taking the Baileys’ money.) George Bailey had a good life, but he never followed his dream. Even though he kept trying, other people continued to impose on him. And eventually he exploded and started knocking things over and snapping at people and running off looking for a bridge to jump from.
Mike loved the navy. What if she imposed her wants on him and made him quit? How would he deal with that in the long run? Would he feel he’d been cheated out of doing what he really wanted to do? Would he explode one day? Would she ruin his life and would he resent her?
The movie ended with all the townspeople happily caroling and helping George Bailey in his moment of crisis and, like all the other women in the family, Jo found herself wiping her eyes.
“I love that movie,” Georgia said with a sigh. Hot news flash. Not. She said that every year.
“Why do you like it so much, Mom?” Rich asked. “I mean, it’s pretty sappy. Hardly anybody my age even knows about it.”
“That’s a shame,” Georgia said. “I suppose it is compared to what we see today.” She kissed Mikey’s head. “But I like the message behind it. Everyone’s life counts. Everyone has a purpose.”
Jo suddenly felt squirmy.
As she and Mike drove home, thoughts chased each other around her brain like Sugar Plum Fairies on speed. What if a navy career was Mike’s purpose? Did she want to cheat him out of it? Was her life all that bad when he was gone? She wasn’t incompetent. She could handle Mikey on her own, and surely he’d adjust to Daddy coming and going, like so many other kids whose parents were in the service. The country needed good men like her husband. It was wrong of her to stop him from doing his part to keep her and those they loved safe. She was a selfish bitch.
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