Four
Hope was too busy to visit with her neighbors throughout that week, what with the semester ending soon and two term papers to complete. Of course, Joshua and Kimmie had stopped over Sunday afternoon, trying to convince her to go with them to buy a Christmas tree. He knew a place nearby where one could cut their own, and she was tempted, but she stood tough and pleaded ‘homework due’. Hours later, they came back with massive Fraser Fir, and a second, smaller tree. For Hope. She felt like Scrooge, refusing their gift. She offered no explanation except that she did not celebrate Christmas. Joshua popped over for a quick minute on Monday night. “Want to go meet my new niece?” She shuddered with pain. The idea was more than she could bear. Even worse was pretending nothing was wrong. She smiled and told him, no thanks. Tuesday evening when she returned from night class, she found an invitation in her mailbox for an open house at Joshua’s place on Saturday evening. He’d included a handwritten note: Any chance you can lend a hand Friday night and Saturday? I’m up to my eyeballs! He’d signed it, Your Pesky Neighbor. “Girl, is that the truth!” she said out loud. Kimmie knocked on her door Wednesday evening to invite her to her Christmas party at Tiny Tykes on Thursday. “I have class, Kimmie. “ “Can’t you skip one night?” “I can’t miss.” She felt like a heel, wishing she could miss her class just this once. “Maybe your dad can videotape it.” “That’s a good idea, I’ll ask him!” Thursday came and of course, her neighbors went to the program at the daycare, and she went to class. Unfortunately, she had a great deal of trouble concentrating on her studies. And for the first time in probably two years, Hope cancelled her plans with her friends for Friday night pizza and a movie. “Just helping out a neighbor,” she insisted. “Right,” they said exchanging knowing grins. “We’ll bet this neighbor a good looking man under fifty?” Hope’s blush told it all. ~ * ~ Joshua and Kimmie met her at the door Friday evening when she walked up the street from the bus stop. “I got called into work,” Joshua told her. “Can you do me a huge favor and watch Kimmie for an hour or two? She hasn’t eaten, but I ordered pizza.” He gave her cash and a coupon for a second pizza at half price. “They can keep the change.” “You guys eat two pizzas?” “Leftover pizza is our savior for a quick meal.” Odd, her handsome neighbor wore five hundred dollar suits and used pizza coupons. Maybe he had the suits before he hit on bad times. Her father and her ex-husband both wore the same designer label, and she recognized it a mile away. Kimmie tugged on his suit tails. “When can I give her the—” She lowered her voice to a whisper that still carried to her ears. “—you-know-what?” Only now did Hope notice the brown paper bag he carried. “Anytime is fine. Gimme a kiss. I have to go. Love you, Sunshine.” He got such a big hug and kiss that it brought sudden tears to Hope’s eyes. It surprised her that Kimmie was so well-adjusted and well-behaved after all she’d been through the past couple years. Joshua got all the credit in Hope’s mind. “So when do you want to open it?” Kimmie asked as soon as the door closed. “When would you like me to open it?” “My dad always makes me wait until I can’t stand it anymore.” “Oh, so I should wait until after the pizza comes. Maybe even after we eat.” “I can’t stand to wait that long.” “Should we compromise? You know what that means?” “Yep, nobody gets what they want.” She stifled a chuckle. It sounded like the lawyer in Kimmie’s dad was teaching a healthy dose of cynicism. The doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell. Let me pay the man and then I’ll open the gift.” Hope was as good as her word. She locked the front door behind the pizza delivery man and set the two large boxes on the stove. Taking a pizza pan from the cabinet, she slid one on the pizzas into the oven and turned the temperature to warm. It would be a shame if Joshua had to eat cold pizza. “Would you like a salad with the pizza? Won’t take a moment.” “I just want you to open the present.” “Oh, that’s right. Should I guess what it is first?” “You’ll never guess.” “Is it alive?” “Well... yeah.” “I didn’t hear it meow or bark. It’s not a snake, is it?” Kimmie giggled. “No, maybe for Christmas...” “Don’t even think about it. I’d have to put it down your back.” “You wouldn’t touch a snake, would you? Ladies don’t like snakes.” “Are you kidding?” She put plates and napkins on the table and pizza on the plates, poured soda for them both, threw salad fixings in a bowl and poured dressing from a bottle, talking all the time. “I was a tomgirl when I was young. We had a creek behind the house, and I used to catch frogs and bugs and snakes. I hid one in the front seat of my step-mother’s car one time.” Hope giggled, the sound infectious. “What happened? Did the snake bite her?” Hope shook her head, smiling with the memory. “It was just a garden snake, wouldn’t hurt anyone. But it crawled out from under the seat. Back then, we had a bench seat... You know, straight across, with a hump in the middle on the floor? That snake slithered up onto that hump and popped its head up, like, ‘hey, where we going?’ and Monique screamed her head off, lost control of the car. The car ended up halfway up someone’s porch.” She leaned forward, drawing in an astounded breath. “Then what happened?” “I didn’t want to get blamed for the accident, so I grabbed the snake and let it go in the bushes by the house—very nonchalant, you know.” Kimmie shook her head. “Like, cool, nobody noticed. Anyway, the people that lived in the house came running out, of course, after they called the police.” Hope lost her train of thought in the memory of the police arriving, taking statements from Monique and Hope and witnesses along the street claiming that her stepmother was speeding. She relived the memory of the futile search for the snake Monique insisted had been in the car, the police subjecting her stepmother to alcohol testing and her arrest for driving under the influence. Hope never meant to cause trouble for her stepmother, or to jeopardize her marriage. Hope’s father soon replaced her with another young and ambitious gold digger of a woman. But he always prevailed, and the sad thing was that Hope didn’t learn a lesson from it. Instead, she married a man exactly like her father. “And then what happened?” She folded her hands in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t catch snakes anymore. I guess we could say I learned my lesson—that we’re all responsible for our actions.” “You’re not eating your pizza.” She’d lost her appetite somewhere during the story. “I’m not very hungry right now. Would you like to watch TV for a while until your dad gets home?” “But you haven’t opened your present yet. Don’t you want a present?” “Of course I do I’m just not used to getting gifts the last couple of years. It makes me feel...embarrassed?” “You should be happy. It means somebody likes you. Dad says gifts are rewards for being good.” She nodded. “Okay. Let’s see this reward that we already know is alive.” “Close your eyes,” Kimmie insisted, rustling paper. “You can open them now.” Hope opened her eyes. A medium-sized brown paper bag sat in front of her on the table, stapled at the top. “Should I open it?” “Yes, silly. Wait’ll you see.” It was a plant, a common philodendron, healthy and dark green. “Oh, how nice. Oh, dear... How am I going to keep it alive?” “You just water it and give it some sun and some attention. We’re learning about plants at school. I can help you.” “I think I’ll need your help. I don’t do well with plants. They all die on me.” Her chin dipped to her chest, and Hope realized she’d disappointed her with her lack of enthusiasm for the gift. “Maybe you could just take care of it for me.” “Don’t you even want to try? All you need to do is give it some water and some love. Daddy said your place could sure use some color.” Her mouth twitched, knowing that Kimmie was quoting her dad word for word. She was tempted to insist that she take the plant home, but that would only hurt the girl’s feelings. Yet compared to the warm and comfortable, eclectic décor next door, her own place did need a little personality. It was drab and lifeless, much as the way Hope lived. “Tell you what. I’ll try it, but you might want to check on it from time to time, just to make sure I’m keeping it happy.” “It’s a deal.” Maybe after Christmas when things went on sale, she could find some colorful pictures and throw pillows. She might even paint the walls something more
cheerful than off-white. And find some slipcovers for the couch and chair. She could watch for a new living room set on sale. What was she thinking? She couldn’t keep up with the lawyer next door. Despite his recent bout of bad luck, he surely earned a decent income, one she couldn’t compare to her own circumstances. Her house reflected her own tastes, and she had nothing to be ashamed of. Her duplex was always neat and clean. “How ‘bout some fruit for dessert?” she offered the child. She nodded. “Can I eat in front of the TV?” “I don’t have a problem with that. Would your dad mind?” “If we don’t ask him he won’t mind.” She had her answer but let her eat in front of the TV anyway while she put the leftover pizza in the oven with the second pie. She washed the few plates and glasses by hand, rather than run the dishwasher. When she joined her in the living room, she announced, “Your cable’s out.” “I don’t have cable. I seldom watch TV and can’t justify the money for cable.” “You must be the only person in town who doesn’t have it.” “I doubt that. And I don’t miss it. Most nights, I have homework or I bring paperwork home with me, so I wouldn’t have a chance to watch TV, anyway. I see most movies, at least those that interest me, when they come out in the theater. The local channels have the news, and that’s all I need.” “Wow, you’re really...different.” “I hope being different isn’t all bad.” She eyed her skeptically but refrained from commenting. The little girl’s behavior told the tale and had her questioning her lifestyle. They watched a game show for a while, and a sit-com. Kimmie was losing interest when they heard the whir of the garage door opening on the other side of the duplex. She jumped up from the chair. “Daddy’s home! Can I go meet him?” “I—Yes. Careful you don’t get caught under the garage door. Remember, he won’t know you’re there.” “You sound just like a mommy.” She didn’t realize it, but she’d just twisted the knife into Hope’s heart. She heard the excited welcome the little girl gave her dad. How wonderful to hear giggles and genuine warmth between them. Joshua was doing a wonderful job raising his daughter, and she was well aware that their closeness had a great deal to do with their mutual loss. Joshua’s presence brought life into the house with him. He so enjoyed people and simple things. He went straight to the plant. “Hey that weed looks good in here. Didn’t I tell you, Sunshine?” “It’s not a weed. It’s a philodendron!” “I’m impressed. The name’s bigger than you are.” He tickled his daughter, still clinging around her dad’s neck, bringing on gales of laughter. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “We had salad and fruit with our pizza.” “I’m starved. But I need to get started on decorating my place for the party tomorrow. I’ll just grab a piece or two while I work.” “Can I help?” “I never refuse a helping hand. Kimmie’s going to help too, right Sunshine?” “You know what, Daddy? Miss Hope doesn’t have cable TV.” “Really? Would you believe there are people in the world, even people in this country, who don’t have TV?” “Nooo...” “Yep.” He nodded seriously. “Count your blessings.” “Wow.” “How ‘bout if you get down now so I can carry the pizza next door? Besides, you’re heavy! How much did you eat? Must have been two whole pizzas.” Hope loved hearing their banter, and as much as she enjoyed Kimmie’s delighted giggles, it made her miss her daughter. The sense of loss was suddenly unbearable and she clenched her neck, unable to breathe. Joshua noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?” She shook her head. “I...don’t feel well suddenly. I think I better skip it tonight. I’ll help all day tomorrow.” “Is it something we said? Did?” She shook her head again. “I don’t like to leave you alone like this. Come next door with us. You don’t have to lift a finger. You can watch a movie or watch us working.” “I’d rather be alone.” “But I’ll worry about you all evening and you won’t get any rest because I’ll have to call you every half hour to make sure you’re all right.” She sighed and surrendered. She doubted he lost many court cases.
Five
Joshua was right, he needed help. Big time. Three big boxes graced the living room but half their contents were strewn across the couch and coffee table, forcing Kimmie to plop onto the floor in front of the TV. The perfectly shaped Fraser fir stood in the corner, like a king over his domain. A ladder stood nearby, convenient since the tree nearly reached the nine-foot ceiling. The jumble of white lights draping the leather recliner could keep someone occupied for hours, and Hope doubted Joshua had the patience to tackle the job. “Your tree is in the kitchen,” he told her. “You mean the one you bought with me in mind?” He shrugged. “Want to see how pretty it looks?” See what you’re missing, he left unstated. Sure enough, the tree stood in front of the sliding glass doors on the wall between the kitchen and dining area. Kimmie scurried after them. “I decorated your tree all by myself.” Most of the ornaments decorated the bottom half of the tree, hard evidence of Kimmie’s declaration that she had free run of decorating ‘her tree.’ And it was sweet that Joshua hadn’t moved the ornaments up to balance the whole. He respected his daughter’s efforts. Her ex would have insisted that she “fix that mess.” Joshua’s shoulders slumped as he took in the destruction of his house. He must have received the call from work just as they were finishing ‘her tree.’ Empty ornament boxes covered the table and chairs, even the island separating the dining room from the kitchen. Two tall boxes stood in the corner. She picked up a couple of the ornament boxes. “Kimmie, can you help me a minute? Let’s clear some space so your dad can sit down to eat his pizza.” She dragged one big box to the center island, guessing that’s where Joshua would most likely settle. “Try to pick out the big ones so I can put them on the bottom. Otherwise they might not fit in the box. Joshua, the pizza’s still hot, why don’t you have a slice?” “Good idea. Want something to drink?” He grabbed a couple bottles of imported beer from the fridge. “I do, I do!” Kimmie chimed in. “Apple juice coming your way.” He opened both bottles of beer and placed one in front of Hope, surprising her. She seldom drank now that she lived alone, though she had nothing against drinking. Her father and her ex-husband drank habitually, though in moderation. Hope waited until he settled on a bar stool before asking the question uppermost in her mind. “What exactly do you want done tonight?” “Everything. I don’t know.” “We should probably concentrate on decorating the tree so we can store the boxes away. I used to be pretty good at stringing lights.” “Fantastic. What do you want me to do?” “You can start cooking—if you have anything that needs to be cooked. Anything that can be done ahead of time will save us work tomorrow. Do you have a menu in mind?” “Not really.” “Okay, we’ll start with the menu, and make a list of ingredients you need to buy. Do you have favorite dishes you like to serve for this party? I assume it’s an annual event.” “It’s just an open house. We don’t have a sit-down dinner.” He dropped his pizza onto his plate. “We had it catered last year. Megan was too weak…” That would have been just a few weeks before her death. Amazing that they were able to proceed with the open house, or maybe last year’s open house was Megan’s official farewell. Without his wife’s guidance, poor Joshua hadn’t a clue where to start. “Oh, Kimmie, can you start putting the boxes on the table into the other big box?” “I can’t reach to the bottom to stack them, like you did.” “That’s easy to fix.” She laid the box down on its side. “You can crawl into the box and stack them up.” “Ooo, that’s a good idea!” “I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Joshua said. “I’m short, so I’m used to figuring out ways to compensate.” Her comment drew his eye to her figure, and she felt every inch of his perusal as if he touched her. She cleared her throat, hoping to distract him. He looked her in the eye, a half smile on his face. “So, do you just put out munchies or a full buffet?” she asked, returning to their open house planning. He shrugged and she kept up her monolog. “But it’s over the dinner hour, so you should offer a full buffet. We can make it easy. Do you have liquor in the house? I know you have some beer, but do you have enough? And what about wine? Soda? Help me out here, Joshua. I don’t know how lavish you plan to go.” “I should probably make a trip
to the store tonight while they’re still open.” “I’ll make a list. Let’s think simple and easy, okay?” “I thought I had this all under control. I don’t know what happened.” With his usual positive, easy-going personality, his suddenly discouraged mood surprised her. “It’s a busy time of year, and you’ve been away a lot of evenings. The holidays always add extra stress.” She didn’t mention the effect grief played on one’s ability to function, even after nearly a year. He surely helped his wife with previous parties, but in Hope’s mind, remembering what to do, and especially when to do it, was a science. Hope spotted a white legal pad by the phone and grabbed it, along with a pen, starting a list: tray of cold cuts, tray of cheese. Mayo, mustard, ketchup? Frozen meatballs, Hawaiian sweet and sour sauce. “How ‘bout a big pan of chili? Or would you rather do soup? Clam chowder?” “They both sound good. We’ll do both.” “Do you have plenty of mugs?” “Somewhere.” He started his third piece of pizza. “Better add them to the list.” She hopped off the barstool and started checking kitchen cabinets, talking as she searched for the mugs. “How many people are you expecting?” “Fifty, maybe.” “We need a couple containers of those mini cream puffs. Chocolate fondue would be fun, too. Get some sponge cake, pineapple, cherries, strawberries. That’s plenty.” “You’ve done this before, obviously.” “What, the fondue?” She opened the cabinet on the kitchen side of the island, directly across from where he sat. “No, I mean the whole entertaining thing.” “Yeah, I have, but it’s been a while. My father entertained a lot, so I grew up with it. He changed wives so often that I trained them in the art of entertaining to suit a demanding master.” “You were married, right?” She nodded, but didn’t offer any details. “And you had a daughter.” “I never said that.” “No, you didn’t. I guessed. What happened to her?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You need to talk to someone. How many nights a week do you actually sleep? How many miles do you walk the floor every week? Or watch TV until you fall asleep from boredom?” She shut the last cabinet door a bit harder than she’d intended and strode across to the china cabinet. “Aha! Mugs. Dozens of them. Cross them off the list. How are you doing, Kimmie?” Joshua waited until she returned to the counter island. “Have you seen a therapist?” Of course she’d seen a therapist. The court had mandated that as a condition to expunge the crime from her record. Her lawyer said she’d never get a decent job otherwise, and since she was already being railroaded, it was the least they could do to give her a fresh start. “This is none of your business. I’m dealing with it on my own.” “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here for you.” She shook her head. That wasn’t likely to happen. “We have a great deal of work to do. Finish your pizza and let’s get started, please.” ~ * ~ When Joshua returned from the store, he found a totally different house than the one he’d left. He didn’t mean to be gone so long, but half the town apparently decided that this Friday night was ideal for shopping. Standing in the line long tested his endurance, not to mention his patience. Despite his long absence, he was shocked by all the progress she’d made in his absence. Hope must have worked her little tail off to get all this done. She had the big tree trimmed with lights and ornaments and must have wrestled the boxes downstairs to the storage area. She’d created space for a lighted Nativity set on one of the book shelves and spread various centerpieces and knickknacks throughout the rooms on the main floor. They weren’t where Megan would have put them, and he almost moved some of them, but he stopped himself. It was time to accept his loss. His wife was gone. His daughter needed him to move forward. The house was quiet. Where were they? The light was on over the stairway, beckoning him to investigate. Half way up the stairs, he heard giggles and followed the sounds of happiness to the bathroom. He found Hope kneeling next to the tub, washing Kimmie’s hair. How strange that she wasn’t yelling her head off like she did every time Joshua washed her hair. “And then the dragon—” She spotted him. He touched his finger to his lips, indicating that she should finish the story. “Then the dragon belched out a powerful stream of fire, and the whole army turned and ran. ‘Go after them,’ Mickey urged from his perch on the dragon’s back. ‘Make them pay for trying to take our land.’” Joshua must have moved because Kimmie suddenly looked his way. “Daddy! You’re home! Finally!” “Doesn’t look like you missed me, as hard as you were listening to Miss Hope’s story. Must have been a good one.” “She knows great stories. Can she come over every might to tell me a story?” Hope answered with a laugh. “I’d run out of stories quickly if I had to tell one a day. I made that one up.” “You didn’t finish it.” “I can finish it right now. They lived happily ever after.” She clicked her tongue, as if she’d cheated. “It’s time for you to get out of the tub, Sunshine,” Joshua said. “It’s past your bed time and tomorrow will be a very busy day. I’ll need lots of help, so you better get lots of rest.” Hope unfolded a towel and held it up, inviting Kimmie to come out of the water. Once she’d wrapped the towel around the little girl and lifted her out of the tub, he sleaned against her for a hug. She gave her a quick squeeze. When she turned away from Kimmie, Joshua realized she was on the verge of tears. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. She shook her head, unable or unwilling to share what upset her. “I’ll take over from here,” he said. By the time he dried his daughter, helped her into pajamas, and settled her into bed, Hope had already left. He figured that bathing Kimmie must have triggered a painful memory from her past. It had to be the hug Kimmie expected. Maybe her child did something similar. Damn. He was just making things more painful for her. But if he kept pushing her, wouldn’t she eventually accept her loss and move on?
Hope For The Holidays Page 3