Holiday Magic

by Fern Michaels

  “Just wanna get your attention,” Al said. “First off, I wanna thank all of you for coming here to help get my place in order. I sure do appreciate it.” He then flung his arm around Ben’s shoulders. “As many of you know, this here is my nephew, Ben Sudbury. He’s my sister Annie’s boy.”

  I looked around the crowd and saw everyone exchanging bewildered glances.

  “Now I know a lotta you didn’t take kindly to Ben’s coming here to put me in a nursing home. Heck, I didn’t take kindly to that,” he said, which brought a few chuckles.

  “But things change and people change. I decided to give Ben a chance when he stopped by again the other day—and I’m glad I did. We had us a long talk, got a lotta things straightened out. Cleared the air, so to speak. This is the Christmas season. A time to show people we care, a time to be a little nicer—and a time to forgive. So I forgive this here nephew of mine for making a mistake.” Mr. Al pulled Ben toward him in an embrace. “And I hope all a you can do the same.”

  Mr. Al removed a large red plaid handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “Now Ben here would like to say a few words.”

  “I also want to thank all of you for pitching in to help. I was wrong, and I admit it. I never took the time to really get to know my uncle. But all of you not only knew him, you didn’t think twice about coming forward when he needed you. This is a community to be proud of, and all of us should be especially proud of Orli Sullivan, because it was Orli who wasn’t about to sit by and let an injustice occur.”

  I scanned the yard and saw my daughter surrounded by her friends, a smile lighting up her face, as the entire crowd broke into loud applause.

  “I also want everybody to know,” Ben went on, “the item on the agenda for the City Commission has been dropped. Uncle Al and his dog, Pal, are staying right here where they belong.”

  This was followed by another loud round of applause and laughter.

  “One last thing. My uncle and I would like to show our appreciation by cooking a low country boil for everyone who’s helping out. All the work should be completed by next week, just in time for Christmas. So we’d like all of you to join us the day before Christmas Eve if you can. Come around two in the afternoon, and we’ll have an old-fashioned Cedar Key gathering. Okay, I think that’s it, and now we’d better all get to work.”

  I glanced over at Mallory. She shrugged her shoulders, raised her eyebrows, and there was no doubt she was thinking, “Go figure.”

  I was thinking about everything Mr. Al and Ben had said as I walked back to the front of the house to resume my painting.

  “Josie.”

  I turned around to see my mother walking toward me. Apparently I’d been so caught up listening to Al and Ben I hadn’t seen her arrive. Behind her, I saw my father and three other men putting the old wringer washer on a dolly to deposit in the dump truck waiting at the curb.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?” my mother asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not such a big person that I can’t admit my mistakes either,” she said, fingering the paint brush in her hand. “I was wrong last week when you came to talk to me. I did what I wanted with my life, and you should be able to do the same. I’m sorry for not being more supportive. If being a nurse is what you want—well, then your father and I are very proud, and we want you to know that we’ll help you in any way we can.”

  If you knew my mother, you’d know I could count on one hand the number of times she ever admitted that she was wrong. I knew it took a lot for her to break the ice and say she was sorry—and I also knew that as difficult as she could be, she loved me.

  Pulling her into an embrace, I said, “Thanks, Mom. Thanks for understanding because I really am going to need your help over the next couple years.”

  “But, you know, Josie,” she said. “Maybe you should consider going for four years and getting your bachelor’s degree in nursing.”

  I shook my head and smiled. She never gave up. If I was a main character in one of her novels, that daughter would do precisely that.

  “Right, Mom. Maybe I’ll think about it,” I told her. “But right now, I have to get back to my painting.”

  Four hours later Twila Faye and I had completed the front of the house, and our shift was over. Standing back to admire our work, I said, “Not bad for two amateurs.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself. I painted my own house and my mama’s house. I came with credentials.”

  I laughed as I replaced the lid on the paint can. It was when I was taking my brushes to soak in turpentine that I saw Ben face to face for the first time since he’d spoken to the crowd. He was the first to speak.

  “I want to thank you and Orli again for your help.”

  Cripe, did this guy get better looking every time I saw him? “Not a problem,” was all I said. I rinsed off the brushes with the faucet attached to the house and began placing them into the can.

  “Do you think you’ll both be coming to the low country boil?” he asked.

  When Ben had announced the invitation, I hadn’t given it a second thought. “Oh, I don’t think so,” I told him.

  “Really? Now that doesn’t seem very neighborly of you.”

  I looked up to catch a smile covering his face that quickly broke into a grin, causing me to notice for the first time that he must have paid many visits to an orthodontist as a child. Perfectly straight teeth enhanced his good looks.

  “Oh, well…I…might have to work,” I told him, feeling flustered and tongue-tied.

  “Aw, you can’t be working all day and all night. We’ll have the party going till at least nine. So drop by whenever you can. I’m sure your daughter will enjoy it.”

  “We’ll see,” is all I said before turning to find Orli and head home.

  Chapter 11

  I did have to work the morning of the low country boil. A waitress had called in sick at Cook’s, and Ida Mae had phoned the night before to see if I could work the seven to noon shift. Since I had no cleaning jobs, I told her yes.

  Orli was on Christmas vacation, and school was closed so she’d spent the night before at my mother’s where I headed to pick her up.

  I rang the bell and walked in to find my mother and Orli at the dining room table wrapping last minute gifts.

  “Hi, Mom. Grandma said we should bring a little something for Mr. Al and Ben.” She ran over to give me a hug and kiss.

  I hadn’t told her that we weren’t going—but I hadn’t said that we were either.

  “Oh, well, I’m not sure we’ll be going…”

  “What?” My mother’s head shot up as she finished creating an elaborate red satin bow on one of the packages. “Why, of course you’re going. Most everybody will be there, and Orli’s really looking forward to it. Can’t remember the last time somebody did a low country boil.”

  I actually didn’t have a good reason not to go, except…I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see Ben at a social gathering. Our last encounter had me wondering if maybe I was becoming attracted to him. Something I didn’t even want to consider.

  “Oh, Mom, please,” Orli pleaded. “All the kids from school are going. It’ll be so much fun, and somebody said Mr. Al’s going to dress up like Santa.”

  Orli asked for very little and to deny her the pleasure of going wasn’t right. Besides, I could keep my distance from Ben and just mingle with everybody else.

  “All right. We’ll go.”

  “Yippee!” my daughter yelled, jumping up and down.

  “What time are you and Dad going?” I supposed I could hang out with my parents for a couple hours. Between them and Mallory I should be able to effectively avoid Ben.

  “We’re heading over around three.”

  “Good. Okay, well, get your things, Orli, and we’ll head home. I need to jump in the shower and change before we go.”

  “I know it’s casual dress, but you might want to…” my mother started to say. She waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. We�
��ll see you there.”

  Stepping out of the shower, my eye went to the bottle of L’Occitane body lotion that Sydney had brought me from France. I’d only used it once, trying to save it for as long as possible. The wonderful Verbena fragrance filled the bathroom as I luxuriated in the silkiness on my skin.

  I surprised myself by taking extra care with my makeup and styling my hair. Although the afternoon was mild with the temperature hovering in the high sixties, I knew by evening it would be cooler, so I decided to wear my black knit cargo pants that my mother had bought me from Cold Water Creek. They fit me to a “t” and my hand knit red cable pullover went perfectly with them, in addition to being festive.

  I glanced in the mirror and smiled appreciatively. “Not bad, Josie girl,” I said out loud. It had been so long since I’d taken the time with my personal appearance, I’d forgotten that I could actually look good. My black leather boots added style to my outfit, and, for a finishing touch, I wound the knitted black lace scarf that I’d completed the week before around my neck. Good to go, I thought, not that I’m trying to impress anybody.

  I purposely waited till three-thirty before Orli and I arrived to be sure Mallory and my parents were already there. Parking the golf cart down the street, I heard strains of “Jingle Bells” fill the air. The crowd was having a sing-along.

  Walking into Mr. Al’s yard I was assaulted with the delicious aroma of sausage, crab, shrimp, clams, potatoes, and corn. All of it was simmering in a gigantic metal pot that had to be two feet around. The pot dangled from a huge metal tripod over a large fire surrounded by rocks that had been assembled beneath it.

  I immediately noticed the transformation that had taken place on Mr. Al’s property. The entire house had been refurbished. Peeling and cracked shutters had been replaced with pristine white ones, which blended nicely against the soft blue hue of the house. Gone was all the junk that had formerly inhabited the yard. In its place were trimmed bushes, brick walkways that were now visible, large terra cotta pots holding hosta plants, with lawn chairs and tables set up around the yard. It had been a lot of work, and it had all been worth it.

  “Josie, there you are.”

  I turned around to see Mallory. “Yeah, we just got here. Gosh, doesn’t this look great? Everybody really worked hard to make this happen.”

  Before she even had a chance to answer, I heard Ben’s voice beside me. “They did, and I hope everybody knows how much my uncle and I appreciate it. I’m glad you decided to come, Josie. It’s good to see you.”

  “Right. Well, ah…Orli was anxious to come. Her friends are all here and you know kids…They all like to be doing the same thing. So I hated to say no to her…You know how it is.” He didn’t know how it was at all—Ben had no children. I clamped my mouth shut and realized I was babbling as I caught the strange look Mallory was giving me.

  Ben smiled, obviously ignoring my chatter. “Well, whatever reason brought you, I’m happy you came. How about a glass of wine?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you. That would be nice.” Sure, just what I needed—a little alcohol to make me babble more.

  As Ben walked away to retrieve the wine, Mallory grabbed my arm. “What the heck is going on with you?” she demanded.

  I shook off her hand. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, for starters, look at you. All gussied up. I haven’t seen you look this good since…I can’t remember when. Your makeup looks like it was professionally applied. Your hair looks super, and that outfit—it looks wonderful on you. And what’s with all this babbling with Ben? The last time I remember you doing that was with Chip Blackwell our junior year of high school.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I told her as I felt a flush creeping up my neck.

  “Oh my God! You like him. You’re attracted to Ben! Who would have thought,” she said and broke out in a giggle.

  I spied Ben heading back toward us and glared at Mallory. “Shut up! Please!”

  “Here ya go,” he said, passing me a glass of red wine. “Oh, sorry, Mallory. Did you need a refill?”

  “No, no, I’m fine. Actually, I need to go find that son of mine. I thought he was with Troy but I’d better check. Have fun, you two,” she said, sending me a wink that I prayed Ben didn’t see.

  “Well, cheers and Merry Christmas,” he said, touching his glass to mine. “You look exceptionally nice today, Josie.”

  The extra time I’d taken had paid off, but I couldn’t remember the last time a male had paid me a sincere compliment, and I ended up muttering, “Yes, Merry Christmas to you too.” As if on cue the crowd broke into a rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy.”

  We stood there silently for a few moments listening. For some reason that Christmas song always brought moisture to my eyes. Maybe it was the simplicity and meaning of the song. It truly was the little things in life that ended up meaning the most. Like a community coming together to help one of their own, making it a very special Christmas for a man who really deserved it.

  “I’ve always liked that song,” Ben said.

  “Me too.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you—is there a particular reason you named your daughter Orli? It’s very pretty but very unusual. Pronounced like Orly Airport in Paris, right?”

  I nodded. “Yes, the same pronunciation. Actually, it’s a Hebrew word—it means you are my light. Although we’re not Jewish, the name fit Orli perfectly. From the moment she was born, she’s been the light of my life. I’m sure you know that I’ve raised her alone. We’ve always been extremely close.”

  “That’s easy to see. You seem to have a great relationship, and you’ve certainly done an exceptional job raising her. If not for Orli—well, I’m just not sure where Uncle Al would be right now.”

  When it came to receiving compliments for my daughter, I always got emotional, and I could feel moisture stinging my eyes.

  “You know,” he said. “When we were kids—what you used to say was true. It just took me a long time to figure it out.”

  “What I used to say? What was that?” I asked, dabbing at my eyes.

  “Oh, I’d be on my high horse about how I couldn’t wait to get out of here and back to New York City and the bright lights and you’d say, ‘Yeah, well, New York City might have the bright lights, but Cedar Key has the magic,’ and you were right, it does.”

  I smiled. “I still feel that way.” I took a sip of wine. “So when are you planning to leave our magical island?”

  “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. I’m flying back to New York a few days after New Year’s—but I’m planning to come back.”

  “Right. A lot of people say that.”

  “Well, I mean it. I’m going back to do some rear-ranging. I plan to make some huge changes in my life.”

  I was embarking on the same path and looked at him with interest. “Really? Like what?”

  “Well, I plan to sublet my apartment beginning June 1. I’ll be back here in March for a few weeks to settle things on this end. When I return to New York, I’ll be giving my notice at the publishing company.”

  This was a major change. “What? You’re leaving? Why? What will you do?” I knew I was bordering on babbling again but I couldn’t help it.

  Ben laughed. “Yes, I’m leaving the publishing company. It’s something I probably should have done a few years ago. Being an editor just doesn’t have the same spark of excitement for me that it once did. It’s time to move on. New York can be a rat race, and I was like that hamster on a wheel—going around in circles and not knowing what to do or how to change it. But coming back to Cedar Key put everything in perspective for me. Suddenly everything became crystal clear. Being here slowed me down and allowed me to think. Really think, for the first time in a long time. And as for what I’m going to do—I’m going to write.”

  “Write? You mean like my mother writes? Like an author?”

  Ben laughed again. “Well, I hope so. I know how difficult it can be getting published. But I have some
money put aside, enough to get me through a few years anyway. And so—I’m finally willing to take the risk. I’ve always wanted to but you know how it is…fear of the unknown. My uncle and I have really hit it off, and I enjoy being with him. He’s really my last link to family, and I think I need to spend some quality time with him. The last thing I want when I’m his age is to have regrets.”

  Fear of the unknown—I wondered if perhaps that’s what had always held me back from going further in my life. It seemed ironic that both Ben and I had come to the realization that slowing down and having time was extremely important in one’s life. But even more ironic was the fact that we were both about to step onto a path that would accomplish this for us.

  “And so,” Ben said, pausing for a second, “since I’m going to be back here in March and then permanently in June…do you think it might be possible that I could take you to dinner some evening when I return? That is, if you’ve forgiven me for being such a jerk as a kid and an even bigger jerk when I arrived here last month.”

  I turned to look at him. I no longer saw the arrogant and ill-tempered boy who had visited our island every summer and made it clear he didn’t want to be here. I didn’t see the teen who tried to make us feel we were beneath him and taunted us by bragging about how different his life was in New York, rather than experiencing what the island so freely gave—both in the land and in the people. Suddenly, I saw none of this.

  Instead, I now saw an extremely good-looking man who had probably grasped the true meaning of Christmas more than most people. I saw a man who had finally slowed down enough to understand, and, with understanding, exhibited compassion. A man who I knew I’d like to know better.

  I smiled and touched the rim of his glass. “Ben Sudbury, I’d love to have dinner with you when you return. And forgive you? Where would my Christmas spirit be if I didn’t forgive you? Of course I do. You know what they say—to err is human, to forgive, divine.”