A Coldwater Warm Hearts Christmas

by Lexi Eddings

  “Yes.” Against all expectation, organizing the pageant had been a net positive in Angie’s life. She was happier, and more engaged with more people, but there was no denying the real cherry on top. Meeting Seth Parker. There was always a chance that she might have met him another way, but they hadn’t hit it off immediately. She wouldn’t call it instant dislike, but they certainly hadn’t clicked like magnets at first. If they hadn’t been forced to work together, they probably would’ve given each other a wide berth after that initial meeting. “I’ve definitely forgiven you.”

  “Good,” Heather said, “because if you’d said no, I’d have to remind you that Seth Parker is by far the best guy I’ve set you up with since you came here.”

  “So it was a setup.”

  A grin stretched across Heather’s face. “Of course.”

  Angie grinned back at her. “Thank you.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  Ethel Ringwald hustled up to their booth and filled their coffee cups without asking if they wanted any.

  “Where’s Lester this morning?” Angie asked her.

  “He’s helpin’ out in the kitchen for a change. Yesterday, when he was bussing tables, he dropped a whole stack of plates and broke every single one.” A metallic clatter shot out from the rear of the Grill. “Never you mind that, girls. Lester stacks the pots wrong more often than not. Now he gets to wash them all again, but at least he’d have to act with malice aforethought to break one. Say! Laura put some cinnamon rolls in the oven this morning.”

  “So that’s the bit of heaven I smell,” Angie said. “I’ll take one please.”

  “You’ll take two,” Ethel told her with mock sternness. “How are you going to keep warm out there if you don’t fill up in here?”

  Angie didn’t argue with Ethel. No one did. Especially when Ethel told her customers they deserved a slice of pie because they’d cleaned their plates. Even if they objected, she brought them one anyway. The pie seldom went begging.

  Forget about “suggestive selling.” Ethel sold by decree.

  Heather asked for the Hypocrite’s Vegetarian Omelet. Lester’s brainchild had become a Green Apple staple and had earned a permanent place on the laminated menus. Then Ethel headed back to the kitchen with their order, topping off coffee cups at a few other tables as she went.

  “So how’s the pageant going?” Heather asked.

  “Fine. Well, almost fine. We’re having a little trouble with the cast.” Angie told her how well Emma Wilson, one of her freshman English students, had read the part of Mary. “But there’s a problem.”

  “I’m not hearing one yet.”

  “Emma’s pregnant.”

  Heather’s lips formed a perfect “oh.” “Is she still going to play Mary?”

  “Yes, devil take the hindermost,” Angie said defiantly.

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” Heather held up her hands in surrender. “But there are those in town who won’t take kindly to an unwed pregnant teenager as Mary.”

  “Then they need to read their Bibles a little closer.” Granted the means of conception was different, but the Virgin must have faced the same threat of shame as Emma. “Besides, Emma just found out she’s expecting. Chances are good the pageant will be long past before anyone else can tell.”

  “Ah, but ‘telling’ is something we excel at here in Coldwater. Emma told you. You told me. I’m guessing her family knows.”

  Angie nodded.

  “And the FOB?”

  FOB. Father of Baby. “Not yet.”

  “But when he does, this thing could snowball pretty quick. I’ll support you in casting her as Mary, but you’d better expect some backlash.”

  Angie sighed. “That’s the least of my worries. I want to help Emma if I can. So far, her family isn’t up to the challenge, but I’m hoping that will change. In the meantime, I need whatever medical advice you can give me for her,” Angie said, then added, “Bear in mind, she has no health insurance as far as I know.”

  “Let me see what I can do. There are a number of programs and organizations that offer help in this situation,” Heather said. “She knew you were going to talk to me?”

  “Of course. Permission asked and given.”

  “Then give me her number and I’ll make time to talk with her directly,” Heather said. “There are privacy regs to consider if I’m doling out medical advice.”

  Angie took out her phone and shot her friend a text with Emma’s contact info. She was only too happy to punt this part of her student’s dilemma. Heather was a knowledgeable RN who’d make sure Emma found good medical care.

  Of course, that left Angie with the formidable challenge of finding a place for Emma to live if her mom didn’t change her mind and let her come home. If Angie let Emma stay with her, she’d be dealing with teenage drama made even more angsty by the fact that there really was something to dramatize this time.

  Ethel returned with their order and the friends tucked into their breakfasts, making only a little small talk between bites. Angie knew Heather had to be at the hospital before her shift started at seven. Besides, Angie was expecting to meet another potential pageant cast member at the Grill around seven. It was Crystal Addleberry. She didn’t want Heather to know Angie had asked her sister-in-law to participate in the pageant unless Crystal agreed.

  Heather could be as dogged as Ethel when she thought she knew what was best for someone else. Angie didn’t think Crystal could bear any more pressure than she was already under. She didn’t need Heather pushing her to agree to be in the pageant.

  “Now, tell me about you and Seth,” Heather demanded with a sly smile. “You didn’t like any of the other guys I set you up with, but this time I did good, right?”

  Angie sighed. “You did.”

  “Okay, give. What’s going on with you two?”

  “The man makes my toes curl.”

  “Oooh! Toe curling is good.What else?”

  “Well, we’re together all the time.” Last evening was the first one they’d spent apart since the night they went to the Regal to see The African Queen.

  Heather chased the last of her hash browns around her plate with a biscuit. “So you like the same things? You two have a lot in common?”

  Angie frowned. “I don’t know that we do actually. He’s not much of a reader, so we don’t talk books, but we seem not to run out of things to say.” Angie hadn’t ever thought about whether they had common interests before. A niggling itch of doubt started in her chest. “Oh, no.”

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking,” Angie said. “Seth and I spend a lot of our time together working on the pageant and talking about it. What if once it’s done, we have no reason to be with each other because we don’t have anything in common after all?”

  “But it’s not all the pageant all the time with you two, is it?”

  “No.” She’d told Seth things she’d never told anyone. She’d shared her hurts and he’d made them better. But now that she thought about it, he hadn’t told her much about what went on inside him. “I guess we’re still getting to know each other, but even when I’m not with him, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “That’s a good sign.” Heather eyed her critically, as if trying to diagnose her condition. “You know, there is something to the saying that opposites attract. Michael and I don’t agree all the time. He’s always telling me that if we don’t have different points of view and different interests, then one of us is unnecessary in the marriage.”

  “That makes sense, I guess.” At least Heather hadn’t asked what Angie sensed behind her questioning gaze.

  Do you love him?

  If she did ask, Angie wasn’t sure how to answer. Seth made her feel things she thought she never would. And even better, she trusted him, or at least thought she could. In all ways that mattered, he wasn’t a bit like Peter.

  And that was good.

  Of course, she’d suffered from really bad jud
gment when she’d given her heart away the first time. What if she did it again, and it was the wrong thing to do?

  When you give your heart away, it never comes back entirely whole. Do it enough times and there’s nothing left.

  Fortunately, Heather didn’t ask the question.

  “Michael and I have been married for about a year. In a lot of ways, we’re still getting to know each other,” she said. “But that’s what makes it exciting. There’s always more to learn about your spouse.”

  “What if you don’t like what you learn?”

  “I don’t have to like it. But I do have to love Michael. I promised I would. It’s part of the deal.”

  But sometimes deals get broken.

  Heather checked her watch. She knew better than to go by the big clock hanging on the wall. Green Apple time was always about ten minutes behind the rest of the world.

  On purpose.

  “I gotta go,” she said. “Keep me up to speed on the Seth front, and I’ll keep you in the loop about Emma as much as I can.”

  “Sounds good,” Angie said as Heather counted out enough cash to cover both their breakfasts along with a handsome tip, which she left beside her empty plate. Angie didn’t object to her friend picking up the tab. As a thriving dot-com owner, Heather’s husband had more money than God.

  But it didn’t stop his wife from rising to take the early shift at the hospital. Heather had a good bead on what was important in life. Being humble, useful, and helping others was at the top of her list. It was part of what drew Angie into her circle of friends and into the Warm Hearts Club.

  Of course, sometimes Heather’s helpfulness came in the form of some pretty dismal setups. But Angie forgave her for those early attempts at fixing her up with someone. Heather had knocked the ball out of the park when she’d arranged for Angie and Seth to be forced to work together.

  Angie wasn’t sure what would come of their relationship. All she knew was that every time she thought about Seth, her insides did a happy little cartwheel.

  The bells over the Green Apple door jingled and someone whose insides hadn’t done a cartwheel in a long time came in.

  Crystal Addleberry.

  Chapter 23

  Perfect is the enemy of good. It doesn’t

  make sense, but it’s often so.

  —George Evans, retired lawyer who counseled more divorcing couples than he cares to recall because one of them knew exactly how their life together was supposed to be and the other couldn’t bear how it was

  Angie waved her over. “Hi, Crystal. Thanks for meeting me here.”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  “Me neither.” She planned to make it to the high school by a quarter to eight, early enough to beat her freshman English students into the building. One of her kids likely wouldn’t make it by then. When she’d left her apartment that morning, Emma had been retching in the tiny bathroom. If the girl didn’t have morning sickness, she was doing the world’s best imitation of it.

  So much for false positives.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t bring Riley with you.” Remembering the time she and Seth had spent with the precocious child made Angie’s heart glow warmly. There was something really appealing about a guy who could make a kid laugh when her family was crumbling around her. “She loves the Green Apple.”

  “Yes, but all she ever wants here is ice cream,” Crystal complained. “You and I would never get a word in edgewise if she was around, so I dropped Riley off with my folks. Mom will feed her something nutritious and Dad will take her to school for me.”

  “I bet you’ll miss them when they leave for their trip.”

  Crystal nodded. “But the cruise is all Mom talks about, so it’s almost as if they’re gone already.”

  Except that you can use them as an unpaid drop-in day care anytime you want.

  “So, why am I here?” Crystal asked, looking around for someone to come clear away Heather’s plate, flatware, and coffee cup. Since Ethel was shuffling around a table of four, Angie stacked up the dirty things and pulled them over to her side of the booth.

  She motioned for Crystal to have a seat. “First, how are you doing?”

  Crystal blinked at her. “I’m fine.”

  No, she wasn’t. Her twinset had a pull on it. She was missing an earring and she’d managed to leave her house with mismatched shoes—one navy and one black pump. When Crystal sat and she rested her forearms on the table, Angie noticed that her usually flawless nails were chipped in a couple of places. Ordinarily, Crystal Addleberry looked as if she’d just stepped from a Lord & Taylor catalogue.

  Now she wouldn’t be terribly out of place at a thrift shop.

  But Angela didn’t know her well enough to press the issue. Instead she opened her bag and took out the picture of a star that Crystal’s daughter Riley had drawn for her. She laid it on the table between them.

  Crystal narrowed her eyes. “That looks like Riley’s work. She never can get the sides of a star even.”

  Angie thought the lopsidedness was what made the star charming. “Riley gave it to me and I’ve had it hanging at the foot of my bed ever since.”

  “Then you, Ms. Holloway, know nothing about art.” Angie blinked in surprise. Seth wasn’t kidding when he said his cousin was a perfectionist. Mothers usually saw their children’s art through love lenses.

  “I know you said you couldn’t be involved in the pageant,” Angie said, “but I wonder if you’d allow Riley to be in it.”

  “Riley? What can she possibly do?”

  More than you can probably imagine. “I’d like her to be the star that guides the wise men to the Christ Child.”

  Crystal rolled her eyes. “My daughter would come closer to leading someone ’round the mulberry bush and talking them to death while she did it than leading them anywhere important.”

  “Actually, Riley isn’t going to say a word. Here’s what I have in mind.” Angie drew another sketch from her bag. This one was drawn by Seth. The idea of Riley being the star had started out as a joke when Angie suggested they put Riley on a zip line and let her sail into Bethlehem dressed in a star suit. But Seth had taken the thought and run with it. He had a draftsman’s hand when it came to building projects. The sketch made Angie’s idea seem not only doable, but brilliant.

  “Riley will be secured in the star mechanism up on the corner of First and Homestead.” It was only a block off the Square on a slight rise, but with Seth’s system of pulleys and rigging, Riley, dressed as a glittering star, would slowly pass over the heads of the townspeople who gathered to view the pageant. Finally, she’d come to rest on a small platform about five feet above the roof of the stable. “Seth will control the speed of her descent, so I promise you she’ll be perfectly safe the whole time, swathed in glitter and fastened into a harness. He’ll make sure she’s not in any danger.”

  Crystal frowned at the sketch. “You know Riley ruined her last dance recital. I was mortified.”

  “She won’t ruin this. I promise she’ll make you proud,” Angie said. “Look, I know the plays I direct at the high school will never win a Tony. But the kids who take part in them learn things about themselves. They come out of the experience with more confidence. Even if things don’t always go as planned.”

  She hoped Crystal hadn’t been there the night of the Macbeth production when her kilted ninth graders had accidently mooned the entire auditorium.

  Crystal sighed. Then she met Angie’s gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

  “The pageant?” Because I was hustled into it. Because my friend Heather was trying to set me up with your cousin Seth. Because I never learned to say no and mean it.

  “No, I didn’t mean the pageant,” Crystal said. “I mean why do you want Riley in it?”

  Angie picked up the picture of the star again and held it up for Crystal to see. “Because when she gave me this picture, Riley told me she wants to be a star. Not every kid gets to have that kind of wish come true for Chri
stmas. Seth and I can make it happen for her.”

  Crystal’s eyes swam and she fingered her daughter’s crude drawing. “She could use a wish come true.”

  “Couldn’t we all,” Angie said softly. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but if you’re going through something right now, I—”

  “You’re right. It’s not your business.”

  “Okay. All I’m saying is . . . if you want to talk, I’m willing to listen,” Angie said, not sure why she offered. Even she had trouble believing the words coming out of her mouth. She’d never been one to stick her nose into other people’s business. She always figured she had enough trouble keeping her own life on track. But Crystal seemed so very alone.

  In a flash of insight, Angie realized the perfectionism for which Crystal was known was at the core of her problems. It poisoned her relationships. It soured her on her own accomplishments. Nothing was ever good enough.

  Crystal’s frustration that things weren’t going the perfect way she planned was why she was lashing out. In the woman’s puffy eyes, Angie saw grief, bottled up and overflowing. If Angie could lift even a little of that burden, she was willing to give it a try.

  “I’m not on the prayer chain,” Angie assured her, “so whatever you say to me won’t go any farther.”

  Crystal scoffed. “God save me from the prayer chain.”

  “They mean well.”

  “So did vivisectionists.” Crystal put a hand to her forehead. “Sorry. You don’t deserve that and neither do they. I grew up in that church. Marjorie and her crew really do care about people. It’s just that when you know you need someone to pray for you, you realize you’ve really messed up.”

  Maybe that’s the point. Knowing we’ve messed up. Yikes! Maybe I need to be on the prayer chain’s list, too.

  “And thank you for the offer,” Crystal said, the rigid line of her shoulders softening. “I might take you up on it, Ms. Holloway—”

  “Angie, please.”

  “Angie.” Crystal’s lips twitched in a micro-smile. “Okay. Riley can be in the pageant, but only if you tell me if she doesn’t follow your directions to the letter. I don’t want her to make a spectacle of herself.”