Holiday Magic

by Fern Michaels

  “Gosh, this is delicious,” I told him. “And your coffee—Grace had better watch out. You’ll put her out of business.”

  He laughed and said, “That’s my mama’s recipe for the spice bread. Figured if I made a lot of the things that she did…well…it might make her feel a bit closer, ya know?”

  I nodded. Yeah, I did know, and I was beginning to understand much more.

  “I came to see you for a reason, Mr. Al. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Oh? And what might that be?”

  I proceeded to fill him in on everything that had transpired over the past couple of days. Finding the paint under Orli’s bed, calling everybody together for the meeting, and our plan to help him clean up his property.

  “And so,” I told him. “Once we get the outside of your yard and your house in decent shape, there won’t be a darn thing anybody can do to put you in a nursing home—not even that nephew of yours.”

  “I sure hope I didn’t get your daughter in trouble. When she said her and the other kids wanted to paint my house, well, I figured they were just lookin’ for something to do. I offered to pay them too, but they refused, so I don’t want ya thinking they came here beggin’ for money or nothin’.”

  “No, no. I know they just wanted to help, and Orli isn’t in trouble. Actually…that daughter of mine has opened a lot of eyes on this island. We all want to help you, Mr. Al. So will you let us? We’ve put schedules together, have plenty of volunteers, and we’re all set to begin Saturday morning at eight o’clock.”

  He remained silent for a few moments. Then he dabbed at his eyes and reached over to pat Pal. “Imagine that. Everyone wants to help, Pal. That means you and me can stay right here. We’re not goin’ nowhere.”

  He dabbed his eyes again, and when he looked across the table at me I saw the moisture there. “Well,” he said. “Seems to me if people went to all the trouble a plannin’ this, the least me and Pal can do is to welcome them and say thank you. This sure is mighty kind of you, Miss Josie. You’re a very special person.”

  I felt my own eyes tearing up as I reached across the table to grasp Mr. Al’s hand. “No,” I said. “It’s you that’s the special one.”

  After I left Mr. Al’s house, I rushed to my cleaning job and arrived five minutes late. My client had some extra chores for me, and by the time I got home it was 2:30 and I was starved. Since I’d skipped breakfast, I’d only had the slice of spice bread at Mr. Al’s.

  Rummaging through the fridge and finding turkey breast and cheese for a sandwich, I was annoyed to hear the doorbell. Damn, I was hungry.

  So I was more than annoyed when I opened the door to find Ben Sudbury standing on my porch.

  “Yes?” I questioned, with one hand on the door-knob while the other gripped a jar of mayonnaise.

  A look of apprehension crossed his face, quickly replaced by that killer smile he seemed capable of producing at will.

  “Hey, Josie. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…but…uh…I really need to talk to you about something.”

  What on earth could be so important that it brought him to my front door rather than making a phone call?

  “It’s about my uncle Al…. He won’t give me the time of day. I just tried to have a talk with him.” Ben ran a hand through his curly hair and sighed.

  “Gee, can you blame him?” I snapped as my stomach emitted a low rumble.

  “I know, I know. Maybe I took the wrong approach with all of this…but you can’t blame me. I got the phone call concerning my uncle and even though I’m buried at work right now, I made the effort to get down here and see what I could do.”

  “Oh, right! Poor you! Forced to leave your ivory tower up there in New York and come back to a place you never wanted to see again. Gee! That’s really rough, compared to Mr. Al’s being forced to sell his home, give up his dog, and reside in a nursing home.”

  Ben’s tone took on an edge. “There’s a lot you don’t understand, so you have no right to judge me.”

  “Then don’t come here looking for me to side with you, because that’s not going to happen.”

  “I wasn’t looking for you to…”

  I didn’t give him a chance to finish. “If Mr. Al told you to butt out, I’m telling you the same thing,” I said, slamming the door and heading back to the kitchen.

  Damn him! I thought, as I slathered bread with mayonnaise. How dare he come here and attempt to win me over.

  By the time I sat down to dig into my sandwich, I recalled his saying that maybe he had taken the wrong approach, which made me question if I’d been too harsh with him.

  Then I remembered his condescending treatment of me at Cook’s. Actually, I thought, I wasn’t nearly as nasty as I should have been!

  The sandwich certainly hit the spot for my empty stomach. Just as I began cleaning up, the phone rang, and I answered to hear Sydney Webster’s voice. “Hey, Miss Syd. What’s up?”

  “Noah and I just got back from Paris last night. Dora and Monica have brought us up to date about Mr. Al and what’s going on. We both want to help, so what can we do?”

  “That’s really nice of you. Mallory is keeping track of the schedule and who’s doing what. Why don’t you give her a call? I know she’d be more than happy to add you and Noah to the list.”

  When I hung up the phone, I felt a smirk covering my face. “So there, Mr. High and Mighty—two more people added to our side.”

  Chapter 9

  The result of the tree trimming party from the night before now stood glittering in our living room. Multicolored lights sparkled, while ornaments, beads, and garland added to the festive beauty a Christmas tree always brought to a home. Now that it was up and decorated I berated myself for not getting it done sooner. Especially since it was obvious how much Orli was enjoying it.

  She lay sprawled on the carpet, chin in hands, quietly gazing at the tree. Clovelly was curled up beside her, and it reminded me of a Hallmark commercial on television.

  “Hey, sweetie,” I said, thinking this might be a good time to discuss my nursing school plans with her. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  Orli sat up clutching her knees to her chest. “About Christmas?”

  “No, not Christmas. Actually, it’s about what I’m planning to do with the rest of my life. You know you’re always the first one I discuss these important decisions with, so I wanted you to know what I’ve got in mind.”

  I patted the spot beside me on the sofa, and she came to join me.

  “You haven’t told Grandma or Mallory yet?”

  “Nope. You’re the first. Well, you know how I have to work so much? That’s because I don’t have a very well paying job, so therefore I need to work more hours in order to make more money.”

  “Oh, so are you saying you’re gonna need to work even more hours?”

  “No, I don’t need more hours. What I need is an education that will enable me to have a career and make a decent salary. It was my choice to quit college to raise you, but I think the time has come for me to return to school and get trained to do something besides waitressing and cleaning.”

  “Really? You’ll be going to school just like me?”

  “Just like you, except it’ll be college. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and…I’ve decided I’d like to become a nurse.” I waited for Orli’s reaction.

  “A nurse? Oh, like Sarah’s mom? She works at a hospital in Gainesville.”

  “Right. And when I graduate I’ll be able to get a job right away. Either at a hospital, a clinic, or a doctor’s office. There’s lots of choices available. The thing is, it’ll take me two years to complete the program. Which means it won’t be easy. I’ll be gone all day to classes and then at night I’ll have to study. It’s a lot of hard work—but I think it’ll be worth it in the long run. What do you think?”

  Orli was silent for a few moments. “I think it’s a great idea, Mom. You’ve always told me how im
portant education is. If you forgot how to study, I can help you.”

  I laughed but realized getting back into the groove of studying wasn’t going to be a snap. It would take determination to develop a schedule. But I was motivated, and I felt that was always the first step to any new venture. “Well, I accept your help,” I told my daughter. “So you’re okay with this? I’m going to have to speak with Grandma because I’ll need her help as well. There might be days that I won’t be back yet when you get out of school, so you’ll have to go to Grandma’s house. Would that be okay?”

  Orli nodded. “Sure, that’d be fine. I’m sure Grandma will help you, and I will too. Besides, I think you’ll make a really good nurse, Mom.”

  I admired the confidence of a child and wondered why the older we got, the more our confidence seemed to slip away. But I was firm about my decision and my goal. Therefore, I wasn’t willing to let my self-assurance disappear.

  “Well, thank you. I think I’ll enjoy being a nurse and that’ll help toward becoming a good one.”

  “When will you be going?”

  “First, I have to apply, so I plan to send the application back to them this week. And then I have to be accepted. The woman I spoke with said there’s still a few spots open for next September. So we’ll see…but I wanted to talk with you about it before I did anything else.”

  “Well, you have my vote of approval,” my daughter told me, and that alone meant everything.

  “What a great idea,” Mallory said the next morning when I called her with my news. “You’ll make a perfect nurse.”

  I laughed. “That’s what Orli said.”

  “Well, it’s true. Remember a couple years ago when Carter fell off his bike and ended up with a broken arm? I don’t know what I’d have done without you. You were so calm and knew exactly what to do until we got him to the pediatrician in Chiefland. Plus, you’re good with people, Josie. You seem to instinctively know what people need. You’re pleasant to be with—sick people certainly need that.”

  “Really?” My confidence level just shot up another notch. “Thanks.”

  “So what’s Orli think about all of this?”

  I went on to explain our conversation of the night before.

  “I’m not surprised at all. She’s a smart girl and not just with the books. I’m sure she knows that ultimately this is something that will be good for both of you. So I wish you all the best with it, Josie. You go, girl! Have you told your mother yet?”

  “Ah, nope. Was planning to drop by and see her this afternoon.”

  “Don’t you think she’ll be excited about your returning to college?”

  “Oh, probably. But she might not like my choice of career. She feels I should follow in her footsteps and at least become a journalist even though that doesn’t appeal to me at all anymore.”

  “Hmm. Well, you know your mother.”

  “Right. Queen of control freaks?”

  Mallory laughed. “Hey, good luck. You’ve made a good choice with nursing.”

  “So,” my mother said, after taking a sip of coffee. “What brings you out here today?”

  I picked up on her cool tone of voice and retorted, “Do I have to have a reason?”

  “Lately—yes, it seems you do. You never just drop by to visit. You’re either in a rush to drop off Orli, or you’ve been summoned here for dinner.”

  I was about to say that’s not true but realized she was right, which gave me my opening.

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Working multiple jobs leaves me very little time to do anything else. Especially spending quality time with Orli. She’s been really good about it but before I know it, she’ll be in high school. She’ll be so busy with her own activities it’ll leave less time for her and me. So I want to be available for her, and the only way I can do that is by returning to college, getting a degree, and obtaining a decent paying job, rather than working two or three jobs to make ends meet.”

  My mother’s tone of voice changed to excitement. “Finally. You’re finally going to do it! Of course, it might have been easier when Orli was a baby, but better late than never, I always say. That’s wonderful, Josie. So did you get accepted into the journalism program at UF?”

  “I’m not going to UF.”

  “What? Well, it’s the closest college around.”

  “I’m not majoring in journalism. I’ve decided to pursue a nursing career. I’m applying to Sante Fe Community College in Gainesville for their two-year registered nurse program.”

  My mother leaned forward on the sofa. “Nursing? You’re going to be a nurse?” she said, not masking the derogatory inflection on the word “nurse.” “Josephine Shelby Sullivan, what on earth are you thinking? Why would you want to choose a back-breaking job where once again you’re literally cleaning up for other people?”

  The confidence that had notched up with Mallory was now hovering around minus five on my confidence scale. I remained silent as I gripped the arm of the chair.

  “I mean really, Josie. Have you given this any thought whatsoever? Nursing can be a terrible job—putting up with sick people, working all kinds of hours, not to mention being forced to work holidays.”

  She was right. But I had given it thought. Plenty of thought.

  “Yes, true. However, until Orli is off to college, my plan is to work either in a doctor’s office, a clinic, or a day surgical unit. They have normal hours, are closed on the holidays, and it will give me some good experience. I think ultimately I’d like to be a critical care nurse, either in the emergency room or intensive care unit. But by then, Orli will be older and have her own life.” Something you refuse to let me have, I thought.

  My mother pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a loud sigh as she flounced back against the sofa cushion. “Well…if your mind is made up, guess there isn’t much I can do about it. Just like when you were nineteen.”

  She really knew how to push my buttons, and I could feel anger overtaking me, as I stood up to leave. “First of all,” I said, hearing my voice get louder, “I’m not nineteen anymore. I may have been young, but I’ve done pretty damn well raising Orli on my own. You’ve taken every opportunity you could to throw it in my face that I’m too independent—that I never let you help me. Well, today I came here for your help and what do I get? Support? Encouragement? Pride? Hell, no! It’s all about you—you’ve always wanted me to be a journalist. That’s what I thought I wanted years ago, but not now. That doesn’t matter to you though. Shelby Sullivan always maneuvers to make things come out her way. You can do that in your books, Mom, but not with real people. I’m not one of your characters that you can control and mold into what you want.” I grabbed my coat and scarf and headed for the front door.

  “Josie, wait…” I heard my mother call and kept walking.

  Before reaching the foyer, I turned around. “I’d really appreciate it if you could tell Dad what my plans are. Maybe he’ll be happy for me,” I said, before slamming the door behind me.

  Chapter 10

  By the time the Saturday for cleanup at Mr. Al’s house arrived I still hadn’t heard from my mother. It had been five days. We’d gone longer without speaking but I wondered if maybe this time it was permanent. I also hadn’t heard from my father, which made me wonder if my mother had even told him about my visit.

  “Come on, Orli,” I hollered as I grabbed my jacket. “We don’t wanna be late getting to Mr. Al’s.”

  My daughter appeared in the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. “All set. Let’s go get Mr. Al’s house in shape. We’re going to be just like that show on television that does house makeovers. Think we should bring the video camera?”

  Even on the most dismal day Orli had a way of bringing laughter to me. “Nah, we’ll probably do such a great job that they’ll want to hire us, and none of us would want to have to leave Cedar Key for Hollywood.”

  Orli laughed as we walked outside to the golf cart, each of us carrying the cans
of white paint the children had purchased.

  We arrived at Mr. Al’s to find a good size crowd had already gathered. I spied Mallory, clipboard in hand, giving out assignments and answering questions.

  “Hey,” she said, looking up. “Grab yourself some coffee and a donut. We’re in the delegating phase at the moment.”

  “We have a good crowd for the first shift.” I poured cream into my coffee and took a sip. “Hmm, good. I could recognize Gracie’s coffee anywhere. Where’s Mr. Al? Will he be joining us?”

  “Oh, yeah. Said he can’t have all these people working and him sitting around. He’ll be helping Miss Dora with the gardening. Okay, Josie, you’re on paint duty. You and Twila Faye will be doing the front of the house. Use the blue for the house and the white for the trim. Orli, join the other kids over there—they’re on trash patrol. Grab a garbage bag and pick up any junk on the ground.”

  “Okay,” Orli said as she ran off.

  I found the paint cans and brushes and headed to the front of the house. That’s when I saw Ben walking from the sidewalk to the yard. He was loaded down with what looked to be huge metal pots.

  He caught my eye and hollered, “Mornin’, Josie.”

  “Morning,” I called back, wondering what on earth he was doing here. Poor Mr. Al. He wasn’t going to be happy, and what was Ben doing bringing those pots?

  Twila Faye hadn’t arrived yet but I opened my paint can and began swishing the brush up and down, covering the house with a pretty shade of robin’s egg blue. I looked up a moment later to see Ben make the same trip to the backyard, this time carrying boxes. What the heck was going on?

  When Twila Faye arrived I told her about Ben. She was as surprised as I was.

  About ten minutes later we heard a commotion on the side of the house and walked over to see why somebody was clanging a large slotted spoon against the back of a pan. Mr. Al was standing on his back porch, creating the noise, with Ben beside him.