Under the Mistletoe

by Magdalena Scott

  “Christmas is just a week away.”

  “So I hear.” She smiled at him when he took her hand and removed the dark pink mitten, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket. They linked fingers and she scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. This was getting to be a habit, and very comfortable. She hated to think about what would happen after Christmas, when it was time for Charles to leave.

  “I’ve been invited to a holiday open house tomorrow afternoon. I know it’s short notice, but would you like to go with me?”

  “Oh!” She’d rather spend time just with him, but would take what she could get, like today. “Where’s the open house?”

  “At the Finleys’. Silas and... I’m not sure of his wife’s name.”

  “Clara.”

  “Okay. Silas and Clara Finley’s house. It’s the big white one—”

  “Mmmhmm.” She looked at his hand, rubbed her palm back and forth on his, and felt the tingle that always resulted from touching him. “Beautiful house. I was there once, for some kind of an event. Elementary choir, and we sang for...maybe a garden club. I was very impressed.”

  “Haven’t been in it before, but it’s a big place, isn’t it? So you’ll go with me?”

  “Yes. I’d like to.” She refused to slip and say things like “I’d love to” because she didn’t want to let anything show on her face.

  Like the fact that she’d love to go nearly anywhere with Charles McClain, because she loved him. It had crept up on her these last few weeks, and scared her to death. He’d be leaving soon, and leaving her far behind. It would take years before she could finish school and save enough money to move to California, and she had no idea if he was seriously interested in her. He was old enough, he’d want to settle down right away.

  It was tempting to think of settling down with this big, sweet, handsome man who could make her angry and make her laugh all at the same time. But first she had to graduate, and get her career started. Even if he were interested in her now, how patient would he be about that? As much as she considered herself somewhat of a feminist, she wasn’t sure how to bring up the topic, or if she should. It might turn out very badly—the memory of being turned down might be worse than just letting him leave.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday blew in cold and grey. The weather forecasters warned of snow showers and up to four inches of accumulation. Dorothy blamed the weather for her dark mood. She sat with Charles in church, or rather, he sat next to her in the row with her family, helping keep the kids quiet just by his presence. It was so nice to have him hanging around with her brothers part of the time. They could use another good male influence, and Charles was certainly that. He was the same with everyone, never talking down to someone who was younger, or not as well off financially. Good thing they’d finally got that “banker” issue dealt with, or she’d have missed the opportunity to get to know him...to fall in love with him...and eventually, to lose him when he went away again.

  After church they separated, Charles squeezing her hand as he left her at the family station wagon.

  “See you soon.” There was something different about him since he invited her to attend this event. She felt as if she were already losing him, and didn’t know how to stop it.

  At the Robbins house half an hour later, Dorothy drove her sister Debbie out of their room and shut the door so she and Jeannie could work.

  “Help me! I’m a basket case!”

  Jeannie frowned and took Dorothy by the shoulders. “Lord have mercy, what’s wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid I’m losing him.”

  “Honey, relax. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Even in church, if you don’t mind me saying, it’s pretty obvious he’s fallen for you. You’re okay, Dorothy. Calm down. Breathe.”

  “I’m trying to breathe, but I think I’m hyperventilating. Is this what hyperventilating looks like?”

  “You’re the science genius, my friend. Now quit dramatizing and let’s get to work.”

  Dorothy sat on her bed, drawing her legs under her. “I love when you beat me up. It really helps me focus.”

  Jeannie made a face and slid open Dorothy’s side of the closet, then began to rifle through her clothes. “You’re welcome. I think you should wear your hair up for this, don’t you?”

  “I guess. I want to look older.”

  “I can paint wrinkles on your forehead. You know what a great job I do on makeup at Halloween time.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Maybe I’ll just stick with the updo.”

  “If you think it’s sufficient.” She sighed and turned back to Dorothy. “There’s nothing in here nice enough to wear to Mr. and Mrs. Finley’s house. They’re upscale.”

  “Like I don’t know that? But he only asked me yesterday. I didn’t have time to go anywhere and shop. And even if I had... Good grief. I feel out of my league.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Jeannie said, looking less sure than she tried to sound. She turned back to the closet and started at the opposite end, pulling out each item as she went this time.

  A soft knock sounded on the bedroom door, and Dorothy’s mother stepped into the room. “Honey, have you decided what you’d like to wear this afternoon?”

  “Oh Mom, I don’t have anything good enough.”

  Her mother frowned dreadfully. “That’s the last time I ever want to hear you say that, Dorothy Francine. That’s awfully close to saying you are not good enough, and we all know better than that.” She took a deep breath. “Now. I brought you something you might be interested in. If you don’t like it, that’s all right. You won’t hurt my feelings.” She held out a turquoise dress of velvet, A-line with velvet-covered buttons from V neckline to hem, and satin lapels in a darker shade of turquoise.

  “Oh, Mom! Oh my gosh, this is beautiful! Is it yours?”

  She nodded. “From eons ago. I made it when your dad and I were first married.” She smiled. “After you came along, I never quite squeezed into it again, but couldn’t bear to part with it either. I got it out last night and gave it a good freshening. Try it on if you like.”

  It took Dorothy just a moment to shed her church dress and slide the beautiful turquoise on. It felt exquisite. She turned to the mirror and, sure enough, it fit perfectly.

  “Wow, Dorothy. You look like a million bucks.” Jeannie ran her hand down Dorothy’s forearm to feel the plush velvet. “Of course, everybody else will be wearing red and green.”

  “Jeannie, do you want to be like everybody else? I sure don’t.” She turned and gave her mother a big hug. “Thanks, Mom! You’re a life saver!”

  Her mother squeezed her back and then sat on the bed. “Yes, I’ve been in that business for twenty-two years. Now, what about your hair?”

  ****

  Charles remembered the feeling he’d had when playing a pick-up game of basketball a couple of months ago in the neighborhood gym back in L.A., and some huge guy elbowed him away from the basket and onto the floor. The breath knocked out of him, Charles could do nothing at the time but lie there and stare.

  This was a lot like that, except Dorothy Robbins had knocked the breath out of him when she took off the long dark coat and handed it to Silas Finley in his front entryway. Wow. She looked like the movie star he’d teased her about at the dance a few weeks ago. He’d never seen a dress quite like it before—it was so perfect in every way, it could have been made for her. The color was unexpected, the fit...

  Yeah, the fit was really good. Her hair was swept up in some kind of fancy ‘do and she had tiny sparkling stones in her delectable earlobes. She smelled like vanilla and brown sugar, and made him hungry as a Smoky Mountain black bear.

  He finally found his voice as they were ushered into the dining room for the buffet. “You look fantastic, Dorothy. You’re doing things to me. Not fair, because I have to be on my best behavior.”

  She giggled, a sound he’d seldom heard from her. “I’m so sorry. Should I put the coat back on?”
/>
  “Ha. Try it. I don’t think I’m the only man here who would cry.”

  She laughed out loud then, and kissed him lightly on the jaw. He was surprised at the show of affection here because she’d seemed so nervous in the car.

  “You’re feeling okay? I know this is a different scene for us, but we’ll be all right.”

  “I’m fine. Silas and Clara are such wonderful hosts. And there’s something about this house—as soon as I stepped inside, I felt completely at home.”

  He cleared his throat. “I kind of meant to let this be a surprise, I guess because I’m not sure how to tell you, or what your reaction is going to be, but—”

  “Charles! Dorothy! Bring your plates into the living room so we can make the announcement.”

  Dorothy followed Silas but looked back at Charles. He shrugged. It was too late now to whisper the news to her. He was back to Plan A of letting it be a surprise, and wondering what her reaction would be.

  They crowded into the large living room, which was nearly overflowing with cheerful bank employees and an eight foot blue spruce strewn with tiny pale blue lights, silver garland, crystal ornaments, and topped with a lighted crystal star. The announcement went well, and was met with enthusiastic, if unsurprised reaction from all the people of Legend Bank & Trust.

  Dorothy Robbins was the only one who didn’t congratulate him on his new job as assistant vice president, as of January first. She smiled and made small talk with the Finleys and, it seemed, everybody else. But she didn’t say much to Charles. People drifted into other rooms then, chatting in smaller groups and revisiting the beautiful buffet. Charles took Dorothy’s plate to the kitchen when she’d finished, and returned to her side with a glass of red wine for each of them.

  “Dorothy, dear, have you seen the house?”

  Clara Finley, a tiny white-haired lady in a brilliant red silk pantsuit, smiled up at both of them.

  “No, not really. I’d love to, though. I’ve always admired it.”

  “You sang here for my garden club many years ago. Do you recall?”

  “Oh! Yes, I do. I’m surprised you remember, though.”

  “How could I forget? My, you were so outstanding in the group. A pretty voice, of course, but you always had a way about you. Something different. I knew even then that you would do something special with your life. That you’d be someone Legend could be proud of.”

  Dorothy smiled and blushed.

  Clara took her free hand and led her out of the living room and through the dining room, then the kitchen. Charles followed, not because he’d been invited, but because he wanted to hear what other unexpected things Clara Finley might say.

  They went up the back stairs and looked at the beautiful bedrooms and baths, then came down the front stairway which was festively decorated with fresh evergreen garland, tiny blue lights, and tied with a fat silver bow at the newel post. Then they toured the rest of the main level—Silas’ home office, the family room, Clara’s sewing and sitting rooms. They peeked out at the back screen porch that led into the sweeping back yard with its towering trees. Then they walked to the end of the hall, and Clara led them through the double walnut pocket doors.

  “This, my dears, is my pride and joy.” The library was amazing. Floor to ceiling shelves all around the large room were filled with beautiful volumes, and occasional what-nots of brass or stone. Dark brown leather couches and chairs were set in conversation groups, and the window seat in the large front window had a gold velvet cushion. A garland similar to the one on the staircase lay on the fireplace mantel, and crystal candlestick holders held pale blue candles which reflected in the square beveled mirror affixed to the chimney. Another spruce tree, decorated like the one in the living room, sat in the far corner, and underneath were strewn more than a dozen Christmas themed books. Charles easily made out the titles of A Christmas Carol and The Gift of the Magi.

  “Wow.” He and Dorothy said it in unison, slowly scanning the room. After a moment their gazes met.

  “I’ll leave you two alone, shall I?” Clara’s eyes absolutely twinkled. She walked soundlessly across the thick forest green carpet and slid the pocket doors closed.

  “Charles McClain, we need to talk.”

  Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.

  Chapter Seven

  Charles walked over to the large fireplace and leaned against the mantel. “Shall I light a fire for us?”

  “Too late for that.” He’d lit the fire for her weeks ago—the night he first teased her about being old enough to work in the bar. Uncertain of how to begin the conversation, she sat on the edge of a couch and cleared her throat.

  “So. You’re giving Legend a second chance.”

  He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his dark suit pants, and shrugged. “Looks that way. Or maybe Legend is giving me a second chance. I didn’t exactly go looking for it. My brother Dan set me up.”

  “That was a good thing, though, I guess.”

  “Yeah. I used to hate when family interfered. But this feels right, Dorothy. Finley is a great guy. He’s got a big heart—for a banker.” He gave her a crooked grin.

  She thought back to old Mr. Finley doing the cake walk to help raise money so the Robbins family didn’t lose their home.

  “Mr. Finley is a sweetheart. He should be good to work for.” She crossed a leg and leaned her elbow on the thick arm of the couch, smoothing her upswept hair. “I admit not all bankers are heartless. Even you seem to have some redeeming qualities.”

  He came over and sat next to her, brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “That’s about all the encouragement I need.”

  “You took a job in Legend.” She shook her head, trying to get the idea settled down in there.

  “Not sure if I took it, or if it took me. But we seem to have each other. I imagine I’ll be working there till I retire. A very, very long time from now. I’ll be able to help Legend folk. I will always remember what happened to your family, and be sure that when people come in for a loan, everything is explained to them in such minute detail, they think I’m a moron.”

  “You’d look like a moron for me?”

  “Absolutely. For you, and for my friends and neighbors.”

  “Huh. Well, that’s awfully decent of you. I can’t get over it—you’re staying in Legend. So... I’ll see you sometimes.”

  “Sure will, until you head back to school in the summer. If you work at it, you should be able to get four classes out of the way in a couple of summer sessions.”

  “But I don’t have the money for school yet.”

  “You have part of it.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I have the rest. Or I’ll have saved it up by then.”

  “I am not taking money from you, Charles McClain.”

  “I’m not giving it to you. I’m going to send it to the school in your name. So there. Get over your confounded contrary independent streak. Let somebody help you once in a while, Dorothy. I’m betting you were raised better than that.”

  “You don’t know anything about how I was raised.”

  “You were raised to be a good person and care about others. It goes both ways. Let others care about you once in a while. Make sense?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Well. However you manage it, you will finish college. I believe that. Then—leave Legend forever? Is that the plan?”

  “You’re kidding, right? I can’t wait to leave! Once I get out and get my career started, this town won’t see me again!” It sounded hollow to her, though. After all the times she’d said it, and meant every syllable, suddenly it didn’t ring true.

  “You don’t mean that,” Charles said. “What about your family?”

  She shifted in the soft seat, uncomfortable. “I’ll visit them, of course.”

  “And you have friends here, surely.”

  “One best friend, Jeannie.”

  “Nobody else in Legend you care a
bout?”

  She thought about the preacher and his wife. They’d been so good when things were rough for the Robbins family. She’d probably want to keep in touch with them. And there were several families in the church, and yes, from school days. Kids she had grown up with, who had siblings her siblings were growing up with. So many connections. And now Charles McClain. How could she leave Legend if he was staying? A month ago such a possibility wouldn’t have occurred to her.

  “I... I’ve always planned to leave. Remember? I’ve always planned to leave.”

  Charles took her hand, held it in both of his. “Ever think of getting a pharmacy job in Legend?”

  “No! Legend?”

  “The town does have a couple of drug stores, you know.”

  “Yes, and pharmacists to staff them.”

  “Everybody needs a day off once in a while.”

  “That’s not very steady work though, is it?”

  “Hm. I dunno. If you worked a day off for each of them, and maybe a couple days in city pharmacies, that would be a decent living, I think. Am I wrong on that?”

  “Oh, well, probably not. But there’s no telling if...”

  “No. But it would be worth asking about, wouldn’t it? Maybe even talk to them now, and let them know when you expect to graduate. Why not work some during the day there instead of always working at the saloon?”

  “I thought about it before, but got nervous about asking. I haven’t told many people what I want to do. And I figured the saloon would be better money than clerking at a drug store.” She folded her hands and looked at them, shaking her head. “But really, a lot of times it’s not so good.” Not to mention smelling like beer and fried food every night. “It being Legend and all, they probably won’t consider hiring a woman pharmacist.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you, Dorothy. You’re putting up your own roadblocks.”

  She sat up straighter. “I suppose you’re right. I could ask. It wouldn’t hurt just to ask, especially about a part-time job now.”