A Heartfelt Christmas Promise

by Nancy Naigle

  She set the half-empty tray on the table behind the sofa. “Can you reach these, Norman?”

  “Oh yeah. I’ve got my eye on them. Thanks.”

  She patted Norman on the shoulder as she walked by.

  Mike got up and got a beer out of the cooler. He popped the top with a loud schhhpt, then took a couple of refreshing guzzles. Hopefully, the ale would take the edge off.

  He’d been so busy watching Vanessa walk out of the room that he’d missed the final winning play of the game. Every other guy in the room was now on his feet cheering. He let out a whoop for good measure.

  A few minutes later Lilene stepped out of the kitchen, stuck her fingers in her mouth, and gave one of her famous whistles.

  As a kid, Mike had once believed Lilene could shatter glasses with the high-pitched whistle if she tried. Or maybe it had been his dad that had said it. He couldn’t really remember. That was one skill he’d never perfected.

  Lilene motioned her arms in a big air hug. “Y’all gather around. That ball game ended at just the right time, and thankfully our men will be in a very good mood all afternoon … unlike last year.” She glared in Norman’s direction. “You know what I’m talking about.” Everyone laughed. “Dinner is ready. There are enough seats for everyone and a couple of extras so no one bellyaches about not being able to sit where they want. I think everyone has met my special guest, Vanessa. Welcome to our family gathering. We’re so thankful to have you-all here.”

  “Thank you.” Vanessa’s cheeks slightly blushed.

  Lilene tiptoed, looking around the room. “Uncle Sonny, will you bless the food?”

  “Sure thing.” He raised his hand in the air and stepped forward closer to the food.

  Everyone got quiet and Uncle Sonny began the blessing as he did every year. Mike missed having Misty at his side. He’d have to get more used to that. Man, she was growing up fast. A tear tickled his lash. He ignored it, squeezing his eyes tighter as Uncle Sonny continued the blessing and a long list of things they all should be thankful for—the meal, health, family. Then forgiveness. “Especially when it’s hard,” Sonny said. “Forgiveness is a great way to cultivate a heart of thanksgiving.”

  Like one of those days when he was sitting in the pew when the preacher said something that felt like it had been directed toward him, a pang shot through him. Forgiveness? And here he was carrying around anger over his mom’s retirement package.

  I could be grateful that the forced retirement would make her slow down. I’ve been on her about that for over two years.

  But somehow it seemed wrong for some stranger with no vested interest to force the situation. He lifted his head to look Vanessa’s way. Everyone joined in an enthusiastic “amen.”

  He hung back, letting the others load up their plates first. Lilene always made enough to feed everyone three times over and still have leftovers, so there was no rush.

  Vanessa’s lively laugh carried in from the other room.

  He waited, watching to see where she’d sit before picking a spot himself.

  She sat to the right of Lilene.

  He picked up a plate and started filling it, planning to go back into the living room, where most of the guys were gorging themselves during the next football game.

  “Mike,” Norman called out before he got out of the room. “Saved you a seat in here, man.”

  He let his eyes close for a half second. Just that far from getting away clean. He turned with a smile. “Great.” He took the seat at the table, and placed his napkin in his lap, trying to keep his gaze toward Norman and not across the way where Vanessa was sitting.

  Lilene’s mother placed her hand on Mike’s arm. “I’m so sorry I won’t get to see that sweet little girl of yours this year.”

  Mike nodded. “She’s not so little anymore.”

  “Well, little girls are always their daddy’s little girl. How old is she now?”

  “Sixteen going on thirty-two.”

  “Ha! I had one just like that.”

  Lilene set her fork down. “I know you’re not talking about me.”

  Norman rolled his eyes. “She’s still a know-it-all.”

  “Norman! That was not nice. And on Thanksgiving.” She shook her fork at him, and then blew him a kiss. “I can’t help it if I’m always right.”

  “Sad thing is … she usually is right. I can’t even debate it,” he admitted.

  “Wouldn’t do you any good anyway,” Miss Rose said to Norman. “How’re those giant horses of yours doing, Mike?”

  Mike buttered a hot yeast roll. “Great. We won the nationals and that really helped us bring in top dollar with the young horses we sold this year. It’s been a very good year.”

  “Mike raises draft horses,” Lilene said to Vanessa.

  “Percherons,” Mike added.

  “They’re beautiful,” Vanessa responded. “The day I arrived I saw him riding through town. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes.”

  Norman laughed. “Sometimes he’s got eight horses at a time clomping down Main Street.”

  “Guilty.” Mike jammed a forkful of stuffing into his mouth. He’d really rather not talk about himself today.

  Miss Rose then directed her questions to Vanessa.

  “I take it you’re not all that familiar with horses. I used to love to ride.” She swatted Mike playfully on the shoulder. “Not big horses like his, but I used to go trail riding with my friends right up the mountain line here. I had the prettiest bay horse. That was a long time ago.”

  “I’ve never ridden,” Vanessa said. “I think I’m okay with that. I don’t think I want to be on top of something that weighs as much as my car but has its own moods and opinions.”

  There was a murmur of agreement around the table, and somehow that made Mike feel a bit alienated, like they’d chosen to be on Vanessa’s side instead of his. Even if they had no idea that he was harboring ill will toward her at the moment.

  Finally, the conversation slowed as everyone got serious about the food.

  Lilene’s brother, Larry, put his fork down and turned to Vanessa. “While you’re in town you should get Mike to show you around his barn. It’s really amazing how he has things set up to handle everything with limited help.”

  “Don’t be impressed. It’s nothing really,” Mike said. “It was out of necessity.”

  “But it’s ingenious!” Larry said. “And wait until you get close up on those horses. They are so gentle, and he can answer any question you can think of about them.”

  “Well, I’ve lived with them my whole life.”

  “Seriously, you have to ask him to take you over there.”

  Vanessa pressed her lips together. “No. I couldn’t. I’m really busy. I have a lot to get done before the first of the year.”

  “Yeah, she’s a busy lady. She’s been here less than a week and has already done a few layoffs.” Mike swirled his fork in the air. “Even let my mom go, didn’t you, Vanessa?”

  “Well…”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure everyone has already heard anyway.”

  “I really don’t want to ruin Lilene’s lovely Thanksgiving gathering, Mike. I’m sorry you don’t understand—”

  “Oh, I understand.”

  The air in the room seemed to almost vibrate. Norm and Lilene both looked like they were afraid to interject, and then one by one everyone except Miss Rose left the table.

  “You’re not the least bit sorry, are you?” Mike said to Vanessa.

  “I am,” she said with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “I’m sorry you’re so upset. I really did what I thought in the long run was the best.”

  “For the company maybe. Not for my mom. AGC swooping in and stealing Porter’s has been nothing but bad news from the beginning.”

  “Steal?”

  “It was a family business. Generations of Porters and most of the other family names in this town have made a lifelong living there.”

  Vanessa calmly lifted the napki
n from her lap and pushed her chair back. “Lilene, thank you for the invitation. This has been absolutely lovely, but under the circumstances I’d better leave.”

  “I can give you a ride,” Lilene’s niece said. “I’m getting ready to go over to my boyfriend’s house.”

  “Thank you.” Vanessa stood.

  Mike looked her way. “You’re just going to avoid me the whole time you’re in town?” It had come out low, and regrettably a little snarky.

  “Probably for the best,” she said.

  “Not easy in a small town. I guess that means you won’t be joining me for the parade.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  Lilene spoke, all heads turning in her direction. “He asked her to the parade? Oooh.”

  Norman sputtered.

  Mike ignored the comments, and focused on Vanessa.

  She picked up her plate, and for a split second Mike wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t going to lob the scoop of mashed potatoes still on her plate right at his forehead. But she didn’t. “I got caught up in the moment. I’m really too busy to go to a parade. I’m here to do a job.”

  “Clearly that’s a priority over anything and anyone, but I said I’d take you. So, I’ll take you.” He eyed her as if he planned to keep his enemies … namely her … closer.

  Lilene’s niece stepped next to Vanessa. “You ready?”

  She lifted one finger, then glared at Mike. “We’ll see about that. As I mentioned yesterday, there’s always a choice. No one can make anyone do something they don’t want to do.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Vanessa slammed the door to her apartment behind her. She wished the echoing sound would erase the whole afternoon. She never let people get under her skin like that. Especially about work, but she had, and her stomach was tied in knots over this afternoon. She could picture Lilene and her extended family talking about the crazy lady that ruined Thanksgiving for years to come.

  How can I apologize big enough for that mess?

  She swept the basket of goodies Lilene had left from the kitchen counter and marched into the living room. Hugging it to her chest, she sat cross-legged on the couch scrounging for comfort food. When she’d snacked her way through half of the contents, she still didn’t feel any better.

  She opened the bottle of North Carolina wine from the basket. It smelled like grape juice, definitely not the vintage Mike had brought, but that was fine by her. She poured a glass, then opened the loaf of homemade bread, sliced some cheese, and made a little buffet for herself.

  “You are so sweet, Lilene. You must have baked for two days to put this together.”

  And to think I didn’t appreciate the Thanksgiving invite in the first place. I thought I was doing something nice for you. Instead I ruined everyone’s day.

  She lifted her glass of wine in Lilene’s honor. “Sorry.”

  The wine was even sweeter than it smelled. She dug through the basket some more.

  Cheese straws. Fresh pears, individually wrapped in wax paper with a hang tag that said FROM OUR TREE. If a partridge flew out, she wouldn’t be surprised. Another tin was filled with cookie bars drizzled in chocolate. She plucked one from the carefully arranged selection and popped it into her mouth.

  She had no idea what it was. Rich, nutty, sweet, and a bit salty too.

  She reached into the tin again and again while she turned from channel to channel trying to find something to watch on television, only the next time she reached into that tin, she hit the bottom.

  I ate them all?

  She pulled a blanket over herself, and then switched off the television.

  Coming to this town the week of Thanksgiving was ridiculous. She should’ve stood her ground with Edward. Then again, she wouldn’t have uncovered the discrepancies in the building use and profitability of Porter’s yet.

  Didn’t really matter. What was done was done. She drifted off to sleep on the couch.

  * * *

  Friday morning, Vanessa woke disoriented. Never one to sleep on the couch, much less in her clothes, she put on her workout gear to get back on her schedule. Before she left for her run, she texted Jimmy to arrange for a ride to the office. Everyone except for the retail-store staff would be off today.

  By the time she got to Porter’s, the store was packed with active buyers leaving with large bags of holiday gifts. Vanessa used the front door, her mood lifting instantly from the smiles of the shoppers and the Christmas music coming from the speakers.

  Upstairs the offices were empty. She hadn’t noticed all the pictures hung in this hallway before. She stopped, looking at each one. The founder of Porter’s, employees of the year. Edna and Bill among them. She took note of the others to see where they fell on the resource evaluation.

  Thank goodness she didn’t recognize any of the other names.

  In her office, she reviewed all of the original milestones and goals. There was no reason she couldn’t achieve every single one of them without disturbing Porter’s at all. The only overlap would be if the sporting-goods company required meeting facilities, but they were not on the original plan. There was adequate office space for the day-to-day personnel at both warehouse buildings. If Edna wanted to turn down the retirement-package offer, she wouldn’t recommend it, but her job could probably be carried a while longer.

  She rubbed her hands together. “More than one way to get things done.” Satisfied, she put her hands on her hips.

  “Oh, sorry. I can wait out—”

  “Bill? Hi.”

  “I heard you talking to someone. You on the phone?”

  “No. I was talking to myself. I didn’t expect to see you until after your big hunting weekend. Come in. Have a seat.”

  “Gladly. Got that big buck yesterday. Best Thanksgiving ever. You should have seen that kid’s face. Man.” He grabbed the phone from his shirt pocket. “Here.” He swept and tapped, then handed his phone her way. “Would you look at that?”

  A young boy in bright orange clothing stooped next to a deer with antlers as tall and wide as a tree.

  “Been after that elusive buck for three years,” Bill said. “He really grew over the summer. Enough rain for lots of food. Have to say it made me even happier for my grandson to get that fine buck than if I had done it myself.”

  She didn’t really understand the attitude about killing Bambi’s dad, but she kept her mouth shut, smiled, and returned the phone.

  “And here you are.” She was genuinely happy that he’d killed that buck yesterday, but for her own reasons.

  “Yes, ma’am. As promised, and I have a team of four guys ready to take care of things. Honestly, I don’t think it’ll take but a few days. These guys are ready to work through the weekend to knock it out. I’m assuming they can clock in and out as usual?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” She’d have paid them extra, but this worked out even better.

  “We’re going to start with scrapping that old equipment. It’ll take most of the day, and then we’ll clear everything else out.”

  “That works for me.”

  Bill slapped his hands on the arms of the chair, then rose to his feet. “I’ll check in with you right here on Monday morning with the complete report.”

  She handed him her business card. “Call me if you hit any snags, or need anything.”

  He tucked the card into his pocket and walked out.

  Today was treating her much better than yesterday.

  She picked up her phone and dialed Edward’s phone again. He still hadn’t returned any of her calls, but he’d surely be back home for the holiday. She closed her eyes, hoping for an answer. On the third ring, a woman answered with a cheerful hello.

  “Oh?” Vanessa pulled the phone from her ear wondering if she’d misdialed, but the display showed that she’d dialed Edward. “Hi. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m so sorry to call on the holiday weekend. This is Vanessa Larkin; I work for Edward. I was hoping I could catch him at home today. I’ve been leaving him messages all week
, and no luck.”

  The woman laughed. “Glad it’s not just me. I had the same problem. Hang on. I’ll get him for you.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Hello?”

  “Edward. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I need to discuss a couple things with you about the Porter’s project.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Not entirely bad ones, just things here onsite don’t match up with the reports Micky prepared. Am I missing part of the story about Porter’s, and the warehouse project? There’s a ton of old equipment that needs to be scrapped. It’s not on the inventory, it’s taking up most of the space in one of the buildings. They’ve been waiting for approval from corporate to scrap that junk since we bought the place.”

  “So, scrap it. The mission is straightforward. Porter’s isn’t making money. We’ll repurpose the buildings for the warehouse space. It’s better than the town losing the business altogether. At least there’ll be other jobs, and we’ll increase our bottom line. What’s the problem?”

  “Porter’s is making money, Edward. It’s not huge, but the numbers that have been reported are against the square footage of the entire footprint. Porter’s is only using a very small portion of all the properties owned in this portfolio. There is already vacant space once we get the rest of the scrap moved out. They’ve increased efficiencies since we bought them, the sales are steady, and—”

  “But Micky was very clear that—”

  “Sir, I’m not sure exactly what happened the last time Micky was in town, but more than a few people are saying they were flat-out promised things wouldn’t change, and there’s nothing in the contracts indicating changes coming. That clause was completely stricken.”

  “Not anything about changes not coming either, though, right?”