by Nancy Naigle
“Delighted. Absolutely delighted. And proud.”
Geoff wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his mother look happier.
“I’ll contact the mayor in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Dear Santa,
You are the nicest man in the whole world. I bet Mrs. Claus loves you a lot. I want to be just as nice as you. Only I don’t think I could give all the toys I made away to people. But I could give away the ones my elves made. If I could just have one elf all to myself I’d be happy.
Thanks,
Abigail
Sales had been swift all day on Monday at Christmas Galore. Geoff took packages to the post office for Mom at lunchtime and the parking lot at Heart of Christmas had been full.
There was business enough for all of them. Or maybe he just wanted to believe that.
The post office parking lot was overflowing into the lot of the restaurant next door. He parked and walked across the median, balancing the boxes. The line was long, but the three postal service employees were working with great efficiency in their Santa hats, and it was moving quickly. He listened in as neighbors shared their holiday plans with one another.
By the time he got to the counter he’d heard about the scandal at the Brown family Thanksgiving when Aunt Suzy tried to pass off store-bought Southern pecan pie as her own to Aunt Pat. The cookie swap was being held at the local church tomorrow night. Someone named Gary had a hip replacement. Three women talked about the deals they’d gotten at the closing sale at Heart of Christmas and what a travesty it was that it was closing. Then about a man who had sold his truck to help pay for rebuilding an old lady’s kitchen that had gone up in flames in a Thanksgiving Day incident. And how adept the Pleasant Sands Fire Department had been in getting there fast enough to catch it before the whole place went up.
This wasn’t just another town where he owned a business. It was a town of caring people. Most of whom seemed to know one another, and wanted to lend a helping hand. It still had that small-town-gossip edge to it too. He wasn’t a 100 percent sure if that part was a plus or a minus. He was only happy he hadn’t heard anyone talking about his argument with Angela at the parade. That was a relief.
Once he got the packages shipped, he went back to the office. He answered a few emails, signed some checks and contacted a few vendors that required his attention, then he looked at the six o’clock report that had just come in.
Sales were looking good. Not a thing to worry about.
There was no reason he couldn’t spend a little bit of time on that tourism committee. He went through his email to find the one from the mayor inviting him to consider being a part of the new tourism board.
He typed a response to the mayor expressing his desire to get together to share a few ideas in person with him at his convenience.
He’d made the effort. It was in the mayor’s court now.
And there was still one other thing he could do to help, no matter how that turned out.
* * *
Geoff drove over to Heart of Christmas. The ad in the paper had listed closing time as seven o’clock until Christmas Eve, when they would close at three. Forever.
He glanced at his phone to check the time. Fifteen minutes until closing.
A couple came out and got into their pickup truck carrying two large bags. Followed by two other customers, each carrying something.
Only a few cars remained in the parking lot.
He got out of his car and walked toward the building, pausing once. His fingers tingled. Was this the right thing to do?
He sucked in a deep breath, then worked his way to the front door.
A woman walked out carrying a flagpole and three colorful holiday flags, juggling them like one of those color guard girls that march with the band at halftime.
“Do you need help with that?” he offered.
“I’ve got it, but Merry Christmas,” she said, clearly pleased with her purchase.
The door opened, sending the string of sleigh bells jingling, announcing his arrival.
Angela stood behind the counter. He didn’t see anyone else in the store. She looked like she was straightening up, getting ready to close. She was pretty in a sweater with beaded poinsettias decorating the front, and sharply creased black slacks.
“Hi.” Geoff walked over to her.
Her smile fell with the flash of recognition. She looked around almost in a panic. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to apologize.” He took slow steps, as if afraid she might bolt. “We kind of started off on the wrong foot.”
She nodded.
“Your sweater is pretty. Very Christmassy.” How stupid was that?
“Thank you. Poinsettias symbolize good cheer and success. Not that I’m feeling all that successful these days, but since they are supposed to bring wishes of merriment and celebration … it seemed fitting.”
Who knew even flowers like poinsettias held certain meaning? Roses, he knew, but this?
She cocked her head. “Are you here to make me an offer on my inventory?”
He shook his head. “No. No, I am not. The truth is, the things you sell here are way too nice to be in one of our stores. You and I both know that.”
She stood there staring at him. Then shrugged, as if nudging him to continue.
“I’m sorry,” Geoff said. “That day that we had words, and I said I might be able to help by purchasing some of your inventory, I’d like to believe I was offering an olive branch. But the truth is I was trying to be the big dog. That was unkind, and I’m not proud of it. I apologize.”
“That’s not necessary.” She shook her head but didn’t make eye contact.
“It is. I’m sorry. I also want you to know that when I said your store was charming, I did mean that as a compliment.”
She relaxed a little, giving way to a partial smile. “I was a bit emotional that day. I’m sure I took it out of context. Thank you for the apology. This store is very special to me.”
“I’m sure it is. The day I was here in your store, Jeremy told me you had family connections to this place.”
“I do.” But she didn’t offer any further explanation.
The momentary silence was awkward. He cleared his throat. “I bought my mother one of those fourteen-carat-gold ornaments. I gave it to her yesterday when we decorated her tree. She loved it.”
Angela looked surprised. Or maybe confused.
“Jeremy is quite a salesman. He would’ve sold me a lot of things if I hadn’t scooted out so quickly.”
She smiled, but the way her lip pulled to the left it looked more like a nervous twitch.
Boy, he’d really made a bad first impression.
Talk about something she’s interested in. That was always Virgil’s advice, for as far back as Geoff’s junior prom. “This building is really unique. I can only imagine what it looked like at night when it was a functioning lighthouse.”
“Not too much different, once you get rid of all the shelves and inventory. The building is the same.” She looked up wistfully. “I bet it was magical back in the day, though. I’ve seen black-and-white photos, but I’m sure they don’t do it justice.”
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re right.” Her eyes lit up when she talked about the lighthouse. “Jeremy said your great-grandparents worked here?”
“My great-great-grandfather. He was the lighthouse keeper here.” She looked around, as if seeing things from another perspective. “Back then there wasn’t much around here except for this lighthouse. Pleasant Sands wasn’t even a town yet.”
“That sounds really lonely.”
“I don’t think so. He and my great-great-grandmother married very young. He was only twenty and she was seventeen at the time. They had two children. I think it was probably a quiet and purposeful existence. When he died, she took over the position as lighthouse keeper.”
“The wickie,” he said, remembering Jeremy explaining that.
She smiled w
ide. “Yes. She was the wickie. Not many people even know what that is.”
“I have to admit I only know because Jeremy explained it to me. I find it fascinating.”
“Yes. It wasn’t uncommon back then for a wife to take over after her husband died. It was kind of the only way women happened into those positions. So, she was one of the first women lighthouse keepers working for the coast guard. The first in North Carolina.”
“Sounds like a big deal.”
“It was, although I’m sure she just thought she was doing the right thing by her husband and for her family. She was a strong woman. Very capable. She had no idea that she’d later be part of lighthouse-keeper history. She finished what her husband had started and loved. They had a purpose in this town’s history. I admire that.”
He was charmed by the lilt of her voice. The respect for her family’s history. “Strong. Capable. Like you,” he said.
Her smile was gentle … humble. “I don’t know about that.”
“That was a compliment,” he said quietly.
She shifted her gaze back to his. “Thank you.”
“So, is that why you bought this lighthouse?” he asked. “Because of your family ties.”
“I didn’t buy it. I inherited it. My great-grandmother was the one who’d purchased it. When this lighthouse was decommissioned my great-great-grandmother was suddenly out of a job. For four years she watched it sit empty and fall into disrepair. It must’ve been heartbreaking for her to watch, and she still lived right here in the lighthouse-keeper’s house across the way. The same house I live in now. They owned that.”
“Your roots do run deep in this town.”
“They do. I’m proud of them.”
He didn’t even have a taproot. Didn’t know his father. His mother had no living relatives. Besides Mom, Virgil was the closest thing to family he had, and they weren’t even remotely related.
“When the government finally put the lighthouse up for auction, she scraped together every cent she could spare. Her bid was meager, but somehow hers was the winning bid. Folks say she was probably the only bidder. I don’t think anyone else could see the lighthouse being good for anything other than its original purpose.”
“That’s when it came to belong to your family?”
“Yes. It was Christmas and she’d used every bit of her savings to buy that place. She was widowed, trying to raise her children. It had been a risky move, but she hadn’t been able to let it go. To her, this place was her husband.”
“She was still mourning his loss.”
“Yes. I believe so. I think that’s why she took such a risk to buy it. In the storage area, there was a stockpile of lanterns, globes and wicks. That Christmas she decorated every square inch of the lighthouse. Not with anything in mind except to honor her late husband. She made handmade holiday ornaments out of the leftover supplies. People raved about them and she ended up selling them. That’s when she realized she could earn extra money for food and gifts for her children for Christmas.”
“Did it work?”
“Clearly.” She raised a hand like take a look around. “That’s when Heart of Christmas was born.”
“Heart of Christmas. I see what she did there.”
“Yeah. In her journals she’d said this place kept her sane. I still feel her presence here. I was little when she died, but I can still remember the way her blue eyes danced when we came to see her here.”
“So, that’s how you know so much. From her journals.”
“That and talking to people.” She propped her hip against the counter. “Pleasant Sands is rich with history. I like being a part of it.”
He nodded. Looked around the store. It looked as if her half-price sale was doing well. There were lots of empty shelves already. “Angela? I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“Can you ever forgive me?” He wanted her to say she could, but he knew now just how much all of this had meant to her.
“You didn’t put me out of business. You were just the last shove. I’m sorry I blamed you. It was much easier than taking the blame myself. I let my grandmother down. And her grandmother too.” She shook her head and looked away.
“I understand more than you think. Family businesses come with a lot of pressure. Christmas Galore looks like a big corporation, but it’s a family business too. My mom started it. I’ve worked by her side since I was old enough to work. I’ve learned everything I know from her.”
“I guess you do understand.” She clutched her heart. “It’s a part of who we are.”
“Yes. Most definitely.”
The clock in the store chimed off the top of the hour. She glanced at the clock, then back at him.
“So why is it that you came?” she asked.
“You’re closing. I know. I won’t hold you up. I really did come just to apologize.”
“That was nice of you.” She smiled, not a forced smile, just an easy smile that made her cheeks redden and her eyes sparkle.
“Oh, you know … that calliope. The carousel. Do you still have that?”
“I do. It’s over here.”
He patted his pockets. “Could you take a picture of that and send it to me? I think I know someone who’d be interested in it.”
“Sure.” She took her phone and snapped a picture of it. “Where should I send it?”
“Here,” he said, taking her phone from her hands. He keyed in his phone number and sent the picture to himself. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, looking a little unsure.
“Goodbye,” he said, backing his way to the door. “Good talking to you.”
She lifted her hand in a wave.
He stepped outside and let out a breath. He’d managed to get in, apologize and get back out before he pissed her off. That was good. He patted his jacket pocket. Plus, he had her phone number.
* * *
Two days later, he was sitting in the Crabby Coffee Pot when she walked in.
Her green sweater would look like a candidate for an ugly Christmas sweater contest on anyone else, but somehow, on her … it looked cute.
She stepped to the counter and ordered.
He felt self-conscious as he watched her. Practically stared. Her smile was genuine. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she didn’t have a care in the world. She dropped a tip in the big glass jar on the counter, then picked up the cardboard tray with the four whipped-cream-topped coffee drinks and headed for the door.
“Hello,” he called from his table.
She spun around. Her face lit up when she saw him. “Hey there.”
“How are you?”
“Great,” Angela said, walking over to him. “We’re so busy. I just ran over to get coffee for everyone.”
“Convenient. Right across the street, practically,” he said.
She nodded.
“So,” he said. “I was wondering, do you have white lights or colored lights on your Christmas tree?”
“Is this some kind of quiz?”
“No. I mean, I’ve seen your store. It’s quite fancy, so I’m wondering what your personal Christmas tree looks like.”
“Oh, that.” She juggled the carton, then pushed her hair back from her face with her shoulder. “Well, normally, I’d have colored lights, but I didn’t put a tree up this year.”
“What? Why not?”
“I just didn’t feel like it. With everything that’s going on with the store and all.”
“All the more reason to do it.”
“I didn’t have time to buy one. Silly. I know. I love Christmas trees. I guess I’m having my own little pity party. I just couldn’t get myself geared up to go pick out a tree.” She flushed. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“I bet you like real trees.”
“You really have to ask that?” She cocked her head.
“Probably not.”
“Yes. Real trees. Always. Even in the store, which I know folks think
is a terrible fire hazard, but I don’t care. I’m careful and keep them watered, and the real trees make all the difference. When there aren’t real trees to be had, I just use the shelving and let the other decorations take a bow.”
“‘Take a bow.’ I like that turn of phrase. So, you don’t sell trees in your store?”
“No. We used to have live-tree sales during the season, but the local Rotary Club does a great job, and there wasn’t enough profit in it for us all to be doing it, so I let that go a few years back. I know I’ll probably regret not having a tree this Christmas next month.”
“Why next month? Christmas will be long over.”
“Vacuuming random pine needles for months is one of the best parts of having a real Christmas tree.” She took a deep breath in, as if she was remembering the smell right now. “That scent. It instantly revives memories.”
“Sounds like a big mess to me,” Geoff said.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just…” He liked her smile. Her energy. “You’re a very neat person.”
“I suppose you have a fake tree.”
Sheepishly, he said, “Guilty. Pre-lit, even. White lights. And yes, we sell them. I can hook you up,” he teased. “I know the owner.”
She gave him a wink. “Thanks. Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“You take care.”
“Merry Christmas.” She turned and pushed open the door with her butt and headed across the lot toward her shop. He counted every step she took until she crossed its threshold.
Chapter Twenty-eight
DID YOU KNOW?
There were many female lighthouse keepers (the Society has 80 on file), but most obtained their position when their husband died or became incapacitated.
“I’m back. Coffee for everyone,” Angela said. “Today’s special. Mocha Peppermint.”
“Whipped cream and sprinkles?” Jeremy asked.
He was such a man-child. “Of course!” She loved these people as much as if they were her own kids.
“What took you so long?” Emma twisted a cup out of the cardboard holder and lifted the top to lick the whipped cream. “So good.”
“I ran into Geoff Paisley.”
Emma turned her back toward the door. “Christmas Galore?” she stage-whispered.