Holiday Magic

by Fern Michaels

  Romance was replaced with indignation.

  “Well, how dare that miserable excuse for a family member come to my establishment. I oughtta tell Hal to burn his order.”

  I shook my head and grinned. Yup, for some people family was more important than business.

  “Should I ask him to leave?” It sure would make my day to boot him off the premises.

  Ida Mae sniffed. “Right, and he’d be on that fancy cell phone of his with a lawyer before we had time to clear the table. No, I don’t need a discrimination suit thrown at me. But…I couldn’t blame ya if you were a little clumsy this morning pouring that coffee.”

  I laughed as I heard the bell telling me his order was ready.

  Setting the plates in front of my nemesis, I felt his eyes on me.

  “Will there be anything else?” I asked in the coldest tone I could muster.

  His head tilted to the side as his stare intensified. Then he surprised the heck out of me by smiling. Okay, I have to admit—he had a killer smile. The upturning of his mouth transformed a good-looking face to drop-dead handsome.

  Waving a finger at me, he said, “Now I know who you are. I thought you looked familiar. Little Josie Sullivan, right?”

  The intensity of his stare deepened as his eyes scanned all five feet seven inches of me and I wasn’t sure if the flush creeping up my neck was caused from rushing around waiting tables or from what his stare indicated.

  “But…you’re sure not so little anymore,” he said, clearly enjoying the fact that he was making me feel uncomfortable.

  Now I wished that I’d worn jeans this morning rather than my white shorts that were probably a tad too short.

  “Not sure you’ll remember me, but I’m Ben Sudbury. I used to come here during summer vacations to visit my grandmother and uncle, Al Casey.”

  “I remember you,” was all I said. I also remembered somebody mentioning he worked as an editor for a publishing house in Manhattan.

  “Hey, did anybody ever tell you that you sure do resemble Winona Ryder? You know, that cute actress?”

  “More times than I’d care to remember, and for somebody who complained so much about the poor service here…your food is getting cold.” I started to walk away and then turned around to face him again. “Oh, and by the way, I know exactly why you’re back here on the island and just so you know—you’re not going to be welcomed here at all. Cedar Key people don’t take kindly to treating your family members like wayward dogs that get sent to the pound.”

  The frown returned to his face, and anger laced his words. “Really? Well, I certainly don’t think that’s any of your business or anybody else’s. And I can see that a degree from some fancy college in Boston sure did you a lot of good, huh? I wasn’t aware they required college degrees to waitress tables nowadays.”

  I seriously wanted to toss the pot of coffee I was holding into his smug face, but instead I flung around, inhaled a deep breath, and marched back inside the restaurant.

  Chapter 4

  I stood beside Mallory and watched one group of children leave the school gym as another group headed in.

  “This is a nice thing we do every year for the kids, isn’t it?” I said to her.

  “Yup, a lot of these kids don’t even have the money to shop at Wal-Mart for family members. They know they can come here and get some nice gifts pretty cheap.”

  I glanced down at the table holding our knitted dishcloths. We’d managed to make one hundred and fifty between all of us in the knitting group, and we were selling them for fifty cents. The money that the school made was put toward a school picnic at the end of the year.

  A little girl who looked to be about five or six stood in the middle of the room, her head turning slowly from one table to the next as if she was trying to decide what to buy. We were having a cold snap on the island that week but I noticed that, unlike many of the other kids who wore jeans and sweatshirts, she had on shorts and a T-shirt. Her pale blond hair hung to her shoulders, and she had the resigned look of a kid who already knows that life isn’t always easy.

  “Who’s that?” I asked Mallory. “She doesn’t look familiar to me.”

  “Oh,” she said, and I heard sadness in her tone.

  “That’s Penny—Penelope, actually, but Carter told me she likes to be called Penny. She’s in his class. She moved here with her mom in October. I’m not really sure why they chose Cedar Key. They don’t have any family here, and they live in the government housing on G Street. According to Carter, her mother is pretty sick. Like seriously ill, and I guess last week Penny’s grandmother arrived to live with them and help out. It’s really sad.”

  I nodded as I watched the little girl wander to one of the tables across the hall. Yeah, it was sad. It always bothered me that some people had so much and others so very little and also how tragedy seemed to be a frequent visitor to some, while others floated through life as if on a magic rainbow with an abundance of joy and love.

  “Probably good that they did move here though,” I said. “Cedar Key takes care of people.” And the town did—if one of the clammers got sick and had no health insurance, the Eagles or one of the other organizations would get together and hold a benefit dance, dinner, or some event to bring in money and help out. And these events were always well-attended, because people cared.

  “Hi, Miss Mallory, how much are the dishcloths?”

  “Hey, Chelsea, fifty cents each.”

  “Oh, good, then I’ll buy four. My dad gave me five dollars this morning. Now I have gifts for my mother, my two grandmothers, and my aunt. And I’ll still have money left to get something for him and my brothers.”

  “You’re a savvy shopper,” I told her, and she laughed.

  “Oh, there’s Orli,” Mallory said, pointing across the hall.

  “Yeah, I guess she’ll make her way over here. I was surprised this morning. She asked me for ten dollars for the sale—that seems like a lot to spend here, and she doesn’t normally ask for a specific amount.”

  “Maybe she wanted to have the extra for when you go to Wal-Mart.”

  “Hmm, could be.”

  Over the next half hour we sold quite a few dishcloths. Our shift was up in fifteen minutes, and I was rearranging the pile we had left on the table when I glanced up and saw the little girl, Penny, standing there.

  “Hi,” Mallory said. “How’re you, Penny?”

  “I’m good.”

  “This is my friend, Miss Josie. I’m not sure you know her daughter, Orli. She’s a few classes ahead of you.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I told her.

  It was then that I noticed Penny was empty-handed. For all of her wandering around, it looked like she hadn’t purchased anything.

  “Thinking of buying some dishcloths?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. How much are they?”

  “Fifty cents each,” Mallory told her.

  “Oh,” was all that Penny said.

  Mallory and I exchanged a look.

  “Did you want to buy one for your mother?” Mallory asked her.

  “Yeah, she’d like that. They’re really pretty, but…”

  “Well, you know,” I said. “You’re very lucky that you waited until almost the end to come to our table.”

  Penny’s face took on a curious expression. “Really? Why?”

  “Well, because,” Mallory continued, “at the end of the sale, we reduce our prices. How much do you have?”

  Penny opened her tightly clenched fist to reveal one quarter.

  “Aha,” I said. “If you’d like to get a dishcloth for your mother, you really are in luck, because just before you walked over we cut the price to twenty-five cents.”

  This actually brought a smile to the child’s face. “Really?” she said again.

  “Yup. Choose which one you’d like.”

  Her hand hovered above one, then another, as she worked her way amongst the dishcloths that remained. Finally she took her hand away from the tab
le and stepped back.

  “Something wrong?” Mallory asked her.

  “Yeah, my grandmother is living with us now. I can’t get a Christmas gift for my mom because Grandma wouldn’t have anything to open.”

  “Oh,” I said. “But we didn’t tell you the best part of our sale—if you buy one dishcloth, you get the second one free.”

  Unadulterated joy spread across Penny’s face as she looked at me and then at Mallory. “Really?” she said and giggled.

  “Absolutely,” both Mallory and I told her at the same time.

  “Oh, wow,” Penny said. “Then I’d like this for my mom and this one for Grandma. Oh, and here’s my money,” she said, proudly passing me the quarter.

  “Thank you,” I told her. “You’re a good shopper.”

  She clutched the two dishcloths to her chest. “Thank you both and Merry Christmas,” she said, as she skipped her way out of the gym.

  Mallory and I looked at each other, smiled, and raised two palms in the air for a high five.

  “I already know that they’re on the list to get some gifts delivered to the house for Penny and also Christmas dinner.”

  I nodded. “And who says there’s no Santa Claus?”

  I glanced at Orli across the supper table. Normally babbling away, sharing her school day with me, she was unusually quiet tonight. I wondered if she might be coming down with the flu that was going around.

  “Feeling okay?” I asked.

  “Yup,” she replied, as she pushed meatloaf around her plate.

  “Then what’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did you get your gifts today at school?”

  “No. I didn’t see anything I liked, but Grandma said I could go to Wal-Mart with her this weekend.”

  I thought it was odd that Orli hadn’t been able to find something at school, but I dropped the subject.

  It wasn’t until dishes were finished, homework was done, and Orli was sitting on the sofa in her pajamas reading a book that she decided to converse with me.

  “Dad called me today on my cell phone.”

  “Oh,” was all I said, as I continued to work on the sweater I was knitting. When Grant had suggested getting her the phone during the summer, I hadn’t been crazy about the idea. I honestly didn’t see the need for an eleven-year-old to have one. But he explained it was difficult sometimes to reach Orli because of all the activities she was involved in and assured me he would pay for the phone and the monthly bill. Not wanting to be the person who decreased their communication, I had agreed.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked when she remained silent. Grant and I had had minor disagreements over the years concerning our daughter, but for the most part we concurred when it came to important issues.

  “He’s okay. He told me he has some time off work right now until after the first of the year.”

  “That’s nice,” I said, while I concentrated on my knitting pattern.

  “Yeah, and he was kinda wondering if…ah…maybe…”

  I glanced up. This sounded important. “If what?”

  “Well, he’s planning to go to Paris for the week over Christmas…and he knows this year I’m supposed to be here with you, but…he wondered if maybe you could change your mind.”

  By the way Orli was twirling a strand of hair around her finger I knew the poor kid was nervous about her father’s request. Damn him. He had our daughter last Christmas, and then he has the nerve to broach this subject with her before he discusses it with me? I could feel my anger building, but made the supreme effort to remain calm.

  “What would you like to do?” I asked.

  “I’d love to go to Paris…just not this year for Christmas. I was looking forward to being here with you this year.”

  I nodded. Settled. “Then that’s what you should do. It’s your choice, Orli.”

  “Really?” The concern that I’d seen on her face all evening was replaced with her usual brightness.

  “Really. Would you like to call him to tell him your choice or do you want me to?”

  “Well…I do feel bad that he’ll be alone, but I spent last year with him. Would you call him?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll try to reach him later.”

  After she’d gone to bed I dialed Grant’s cell phone number. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, Josie. Had a feeling you’d be calling me.”

  “Did ya now?”

  “I overstepped my bounds, didn’t I?”

  “Ah, you could say that.”

  “I’m sorry…. It was wrong of me not to speak with you first. It won’t happen again.”

  “I hope not, Grant, because if she was a different kind of kid, she could be playing both of us against each other. Important issues will be coming up during her teen years. We have to both be on the same page.”

  “I know that. It’s just that I’m leaving for Paris on the nineteenth, and I thought how great it would be if I could spend Christmas there with Orli. I was being selfish.” He paused for a second. “She doesn’t want to go, does she?”

  “It isn’t that she doesn’t want to go, Grant. I’m sure she’d love to go. You should know by now she’s a loyal kid, and she hates disappointing anybody. But she’s also honest. She said she felt bad that you’d be alone, but she wanted to be here this year with me.”

  “That’s fair. Hey, where’d we get such a great, mature kid?”

  I laughed. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “So how’re you doing? Are you managing all right financially?”

  “Yup, fine. I’ve managed to pick up some more cleaning jobs. So yup, I’m doing fine.” There was no way I’d let Grant know how difficult it was becoming. Nor would I share with him my recent thoughts that perhaps I’d made a major mistake by not getting my college degree.

  “Anybody important in your life?”

  I smiled. This was a question that we’d tossed back and forth to each other over eleven years. Although Grant had had a couple serious relationships, they ended up going nowhere. Which I found bewildering. A good-looking Harvard grad, with a great job, financial security, a terrific sense of humor and yet—he remained single.

  I gave him my usual answer. “Only Orli.”

  His laughter came across the line. “Okay, well, I apologize for this incident, and I promise it won’t happen again. Tell Orli I love her, and I’ll call her over the weekend.”

  “Will do,” I said, hanging up the phone.

  Chapter 5

  I had just put the last load of laundry into the washer when the doorbell rang. Opening the front door, I was surprised to find Al Casey standing on my porch shifting from one foot to the other in a nervous fashion. I could count on one hand the number of times he’d paid me a visit.

  “Mr. Al,” I said, pushing the screen door open. “Come on in. How’re you doing? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replied, following me to the kitchen at the back of the house.

  “How about a cup of afternoon coffee? I know I could use a break from housecleaning.” I began spooning coffee into the paper filter. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, Miss Josie. That’s mighty kind of you, and coffee sure sounds good.”

  Filling the glass carafe with water, I wondered what had brought about this visit.

  As if reading my mind, he said, “I guess you’re wonderin’ why I’ve come by.”

  I joined him at the table and smiled. “You mean it’s not because I’m such a pleasure to be with and great company?”

  “Oh, well, yes…that too,” he replied, obviously flustered.

  “I was only joking with you, Mr. Al. What can I do for you?”

  Despite the coolness of the afternoon, he removed a pristine white handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans and mopped his forehead, which I saw had beads of perspiration.

  “Well, uh…I suppose you heard all the scuttle-butt around town. About a group that’s gonna be going before the
City Commission. Guess they wanna take my house and my property and do away with me. Even that highbred nephew of mine is in on it.”

  I got up, poured coffee into two mugs and sat back down across from Mr. Al.

  “Yes,” I told him. “I’ve heard all about it, and I think it’s terrible. You can bet I’ll be at that City Commission meeting standing up for you. And I happen to know there’ll be many other locals right along with me.”

  Al took a sip of his coffee and then let out a deep sigh. “That sure is kind of all of ya, but I’m not sure it’ll do any good.”

  “What do you mean? You own that house and property—free and clear. Nobody can just boot you off your own land.”

  “Oh, nowadays, who knows what’s possible? I know my front yard looks a mess, and I’m afraid I let the outside of the house get away from me. But since my mama’s been gone, I guess I’ve kinda lost interest in everything. You know…there was a time when I truly welcomed each new day. Up before the sun, I’d head downtown to Cook’s, get me a good breakfast, and I’d be at the City Marina easin’ my Boston Whaler out into the Gulf for a day of fishin’. Fishin’—that was my livelihood, ya know.”

  I nodded and took another sip of coffee while I listened. There was no doubt poor Mr. Al was both lonely and depressed.

  “And then, in 1994 they ban net fishin’. Said it was harmful to the environment, and we were depleting the volume of fish. I don’t know nothin’ about that—all I know’s, they took away my livin’.”

  “But Mr. Al, the government sent people to the island to instruct anyone who wanted to learn clam farming. And now, Cedar Key has become the number one place in the country for farm-raised clams.”

  Waving his hand toward me in agitation, he said, “I didn’t wanna be a clam farmer. I was a fisherman. Fifth generation of fishin’ those waters out there. And nothin’ was gonna change that. I just thank the good Lord that I’ve had enough money to get by, and I never did have to do clam farmin’.”

  Mr. Al wasn’t the only one on the island who felt this way, so I wasn’t surprised at his attitude.

  “So they take away my work, then my sister Annie passes on and a couple years ago my mama joins her in heaven. And now it’s just me that’s left. Well, except for that whippersnapper nephew of mine. But I swear he don’t have an ounce a Cedar Key blood in him. Poor Annie must be turning over in her grave.”