Yule Tidings

by Savannah Dawn

  The ground was littered with leaves of yellow, red, orange, and brown. It was beautiful to watch them blowing lazily across the street in the gentle breeze. Anne walked slowly, gingerly. Her ankle hurt, and already she could feel that the swelling was returning. By the time she reached the restaurant she was limping painfully. She hobbled inside and sat down at the nearest bench to catch her breath. It wasn’t busy yet, and the workers looked at her curiously from the back. When she’d caught her breath she stood up and walked to the counter to order. She was just preparing to pay for her sub when she heard a strangely familiar and decidedly gruff voice behind her.

  “Jim, I want to be caught up by the end of this week. Hire a couple more guys if you have to, but we promised Anderson the mortar would be finished and the drywall would be up, if not painted.” Merle never took his eyes off his construction manager; missing the rather speculative glance Anne cast his way upon his entrance, he stopped halfway to the counter, waiting as Jim answered.

  “Merle, the mortar won’t set. It’s too damn cold.”

  “Well, then warm it up. Put some space heaters around the hearth. I’m sure the crew would appreciate a little extra heat in that place. It’s colder than a witch’s titty in…” Merle stopped abruptly as he turned his head and recognized the woman looking at him curiously. Anne was standing at the counter paying for her food, apparently. Merle nodded at her gruffly, taking little notice of her before he turned back to Jim. “I want the mortar done by thursday, the drywall with the wiring by the end of the week. It’s only Tuesday Jim, you can do it.”

  “Merle, it’s not me I’m worried about,” Jim started. He knew Merle was just trying to keep himself busy since his wife’s death, but it was getting ridiculous. Yesterday he caught Merle off-loading and loading trucks alone. He was too old to haul supplies like that. He was nearly sixty. He owned the company for Christ sakes; he didn’t need to do the manual labor like one of the untrained grunts.

  “Jim,” Merle said, the warning clear in his voice. Undoubtedly, Merle couldn’t have asked for a better man to help run the company. Jim was hard working, devoted, and intelligent. He had a way of getting the men to work for him that was impressive. He started before they did and didn’t quit until everyone was gone. But more to the point, he was dedicated to Merle for having given him his big chance, which made him a little less like an employee and a little more like a harping son than Merle would have preferred. Merle’s own son hadn’t wanted to go into construction; a decision Merle supported one hundred percent. It could be a hard life, and while Merle had no regrets about his choice of career, he was proud of his son for making his own way. His son was a lawyer for a large company in Richmond, Virginia. His daughter was a doctor near Hampton. They were both successful, married, and had children.

  Merle turned his thoughts back to his construction manager, Jim, who was also married and expecting his first child any day. Merle wanted the important work done before Jim’s wife had the baby. He knew Jim would take at least a week or two off, Merle had insisted on it, but he’d rather have Jim around to oversee the finer details of the project. Painting, Merle could easily oversee, but the fine detail, well he could admit that he was getting a little too bleary-eyed for that.

  “Merle, I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Jim said, undaunted by Merle’s tone. In the last three or four years he’d gotten close to Merle. He knew he was a good, reasonable, man. His wife Jennifer invited Merle to the house at least once every couple weeks, treating him like the father she never knew. They both appreciated everything Merle had done for them. Taking a chance on Jim, when he had no degree or any experience to speak of had only been the beginning. When he and Jenn were married, Merle co-signed their loan so they could buy a nice home in a good neighborhood. Within months Jim broke his leg and had to be out of work for six weeks. Merle gave them extra money to make due, a bonus, he had told them nonchalantly, singlehandedly managing to keep them afloat while Jim healed.

  Merle pointedly ignored Jim. He ordered his sandwich and paid. Without waiting for Jim to follow, though he knew he would, he walked to Anne’s booth. “I take it you made it home safely, then?” he asked her roughly. Merle didn’t enjoy small talk, but something about Anne called to him.

  “Yes, thank you,” Anne said, smiling.

  “Your ankle?”

  “Sore, but I think I’ll live,” she said lightly.

  “One would hope,” Merle said before turning back to see Jim, paying for his food.

  “Would you like to join me?” Anne asked after an awkward pause. She didn’t know how to react to Merle’s sudden silences. Clearly he wasn’t a sociable man.

  Merle looked at her for a solid thirty seconds before answering. “I’m afraid I have to get back to work. Thank you, no.” Merle didn’t want to join the woman for lunch. He didn’t want to have to keep a conversation going, to make small talk. He just wasn’t good at small talk. He liked peace and quiet. Anne nodded stiffly; feeling a bit affronted, but said nothing more.

  “We’d love to join you,” Jim said from behind Merle with an ease and grace that made Merle groan. “I’m Jim,” he said amiably offering his free hand.

  “Hi, I’m Anne.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Anne. I hope your invitation is still open. Merle may not need to sit down to eat, but I prefer it.” Jim smiled broadly at Merle, who seemed to be growling under his breath. “How do you know Anne, Merle?” Jim asked unabashedly.

  “I pulled her out of the ditch last night,” Merle told him bluntly, sitting down opposite Anne in resignation. He knew Jim wasn’t going to leave, and since Jim had driven, Merle didn’t have much choice but to sit down and eat. At least Jim was good at polite conversation Merle thought pensively.

  “I hope you weren’t hurt and your car wasn’t damaged,”

  “Well, the driver’s side door was dented in pretty badly by the deer’s head. It’s in the shop as we speak, though. I’m okay, just a sore ankle.” Anne looked at Jim for a moment, wondering if he was somehow related to Merle. They didn’t look particularly alike, but they didn’t look dissimilar either. It was entirely possible that they were related in some way or another. Then again, Jim was referring to him as Merle, so they probably weren’t father and son.

  “How’d you get here if your car is in the shop?” this was from Merle.

  “Oh, one of the kids from the garage gave me a ride to work.” Anne started unwrapping her sandwich; Merle and Jim followed suit. “I walked here.”

  “Where do you work?” Jim asked after a few bites.

  “The Red Cross.”

  “That’s nice. My wife donates regularly. My job is too strenuous; I can’t afford to lose the blood.” Jim shrugged, thinking of the many times Jenn had come home and taken a nap after donating blood because it tired her so much.

  “Do you work on Saturdays?” Anne asked casually.

  “Some. This one apparently,” Jim said, smiling at Merle.

  “Don’t whine,” Merle rumbled, though he had to fight to keep a grin from spreading. Jim had a way of reminding Merle to stop and smell the roses. Impressive for a man who worked as hard as Jim did.

  “I’m not whining, I’m informing,” Jim corrected with a sardonic grin.

  Anne laughed.

  It didn’t take the three of them long to eat. Anne stood carefully, wanting to be certain her ankle would hold her weight. “Well, thank you for keeping me company, gentleman” she said, looking at the men. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Nice meeting you,” Jim said shaking her hand briefly. Merle nodded to her politely.

  Whatever possessed him to ask her if she wanted a ride, he’d never know. Maybe it was her obvious limp, or the pain she tried to hide when she stepped on her injured ankle, but Merle instantly offered her a ride in Jim’s truck. Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing. Merle wasn’t a mean guy, but he didn’t generally offer small services to strangers. Merle ignored Jim’s look as they walked
out to the truck. Anne climbed in the middle, trying to give Jim and Merle as much room as possible. She wasn’t thin, so it wasn’t much space, but she felt better for having tried.

  By the time they reached her office, she almost had Merle convinced to come donate blood. He wasn’t quite ready, but she was pretty sure that given a little more time he’d try it, at least once. Anne went back to making her calls when she got in the office. It took her the rest of the day to finish the calls, and there were still two pages of names and numbers she’d have to try to reach tomorrow because there were no answering machines. Anne sighed. She was exhausted, and she still had to walk to pick up her car. When her boss offered her a ride, Anne couldn’t refuse. It would have been too painful to walk more.

  Anne drove home in silence, not bothering to turn on the radio. She’d called the insurance company this morning, so most of the bill was covered. She paid a hundred, knowing the insurance wouldn’t cover the entire cost. The garage would bill her later, they always did.

  The house was just as empty as when she left. No messages. No letters: just bills and a small white envelope addressed delicately to Ms. Anne Stafford. She shook her head. Who would have sent her a card? Anne opened the envelope curiously. She withdrew the invitation, looking at the subtle wedding bells decorating the top. The invitation read:

  You are invited to join us for the wedding shower of

  Alexia Charity Loyd

  On Saturday November 15

  From 11a.m. – 2p.m.

  at

  Michael and Kelly’s house

  4859 West State Street

  Please call Kelly to RSVP by Wednesday November 12th

  Anne didn’t know what to think. Were they offering her the olive branch? She found it hard to believe that they were trying to fix things so soon after the little tiff at the restaurant. Then again, it could just be an accident. It wasn’t like Jason to be so forgiving. He held a grudge with the best of them. She seriously doubted that they really wanted her to come; but if she refused to come when they went out of their way to invite her, it would cause friction. It was just too pitiful. Anne didn’t know what do. She didn’t like Alexia, and she didn’t want to celebrate her son’s imminent marriage to her. Should she call Jason? Of course, if she tried to call Jason there was a chance Alexia would answer again. Alexia was the last person in the world she wanted to talk to. Anne debated her options. Maybe it would be better to wait and see what happened. If Jason called to apologize then she’d go for his sake. If he didn’t call her to apologize then she wouldn’t go. She shook her head; she didn’t want to think about Jason and Alexia right now, she wanted to relax and pretend none of it had ever happened.

  Anne decided to take a hot bubble bath, something she hadn’t done in quite some time. She grabbed a book, one she’d been trying to read for months, and started running the water. It would be a nice change to sit at home and read in the bathtub. It might even help her ankle.

  Chapter Eight

  Rose refused to answer the phone. It was her mother. Rose didn’t want to talk to her mother, didn’t want to see her, in fact. She couldn’t believe how her mother had treated Alex and Jason. It was ridiculous. Alex was pregnant, and clearly delicate. She was normally a pretty sturdy girl, but the pregnancy was difficult on her, and her hormones were everywhere. When Jason and Alex showed up on her door step a couple days after Halloween, Rose was flabbergasted. It was clear that Alex had been crying, and as Rose led her inside to the dining room table, she started crying anew; completely devastated by Anne’s behavior towards her. Bishop and Robyn were playing on the floor, looking at Alex in surprise. They liked Alex and couldn’t figure out why she was so upset. Rose spent the better part of the day trying to get Alex to relax and convince Jason to calm down, for Alex’s sake if nothing else. It was hours before she felt as if she’d made any progress, and even then she knew the damage her Mother had caused would last for quite a while.

  Three days later, her phone was still ringing. But this time it was Kelly calling and Rose picked up the phone without hesitation. Everyone was trying to make Alex feel better, like she was welcome in the family. After their Mom’s behavior Rose wasn’t sure it was possible, but they were all trying. Rose was throwing her a baby shower when she was further along, and Michael’s wife, Kelly, was planning the wedding shower. She’d already sent out invitations. The shower would be two weeks before the wedding, so they didn’t really have a lot of time to get everything around, but they would manage.

  “Hello?”

  “Rose, it’s Kelly, I think I know the answer, but I wasn’t supposed to send an invitation to your Mom, was I?”

  “No.”

  “Uh oh. Well, I’ve been planning this since they announced it, before the whole catastrophe with your mother, and I think Michael mailed out her invitation.”

  “Oh my God.” Rose couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It would be horrible if her mother showed up for the shower. She doubted Alex would be able to handle it. She was already stressed, feeling like she was forcing Jason to marry her. They’d tried to tell her that Jason had been planning on marrying her for months, but she wasn’t convinced. The seed of doubt that their mother had planted in Alex’s mind was firmly taking root, and they were having a hard time getting it out of her head. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure; almost positive, really. What do I do?” Kelly asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “I don’t know, Kelly.” Rose looked upstairs. The kids were playing in the hallway, throwing a ball around and being silly. “You could call Mom and tell her she’s not invited,” she suggested, half serious, half joking.

  “I hope you’re kidding,” Kelly said, sounding horrified. “I know I made a mistake, but does it really warrant torture?” Kelly could already hear Anne screeching at her in that high pitched maniacal voice she used whenever she felt betrayed and overwrought.

  “Well, that’s up to Alex.” Rose teased. Alex was laid back, and she would understand the mistake. It would still be difficult for her, though. “I think we should be certain Mom isn’t coming, one way or another.”

  “How do you suggest we do that?”

  “No idea, really. Good luck with that.” Rose wasn’t entirely sure they could find out if Mom was coming or not. She always waited until the last minute to share her plans as it was. Something like this would give her great pleasure. She’d know everyone would be on edge about her attendance, and she’d leave them all thus.

  “Thanks, so much,” Kelly said, irritably. “What am I going to tell Alex? She doesn’t need the stress.”

  “Tell her the truth, she’ll understand. Even with her preggers hormones she’s not as bad as Mom,” Rose reasoned. “Besides, maybe she’ll have an idea. When should the invitations come in?”

  “It should be there today or tomorrow at the latest. I don’t know; it might be there already!”

  “I think you should warn Alex. Mom might even try calling there, and the last thing she needs is to talk to Mom on the phone.”

  “Yeah. It’s not Alex I’m afraid to tell. It’s Jason. He’s going to be irate. You know he will. He doesn’t want anything to do with her, and he’s convinced she doesn’t need to see the baby, either.”

  “Oh, good point. Well, Alex will probably volunteer to tell him. She’s good about that stuff, right? I mean, there’s a reason we all like her.” Alex knew Jason wouldn’t be as angry with her, so she would generally volunteer to tell him bad news for the girls.

  “I guess, but I hate doing that.”

  “I don’t. I love it. Jason is constantly telling Brandon bad news so I don’t get the chance to yell at him,” Rose forced a laugh.

  “Alright, well I better call Alex. Jason will probably call you to complain, because I’m not answering the phone. I never meant for this to happen.”

  “Okay,” Rose said, “let me know how it goes with Alex. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Talk to you later,” Kelly said, h
anging up.

  Rose watched the kids playing for a while, thinking about Alex. It must be horrible for her, to have someone that was so cruel unintentionally invited to her wedding shower. She hoped they could figure out what to do with Mom. Rose didn’t want to be mean to her, but she didn’t know what else to do. Mom would make the entire affair completely miserable for everyone. She wasn’t particularly surprised when the phone rang again thirty minutes later; she resigned herself to a lengthy conversation as she sat down on the couch and answered the phone.

  Chapter Nine

  Jason walked in the door to hear Alex crying. “Alex?” he called, worriedly. Alex didn’t cry. She was more emotional than usual, granted, but he’d rarely seen her cry. “Honey, where are you? What’s wrong?” He said, walking through the house, looking for her in the kitchen, living room, and dining room. Her crying didn’t cease, and Jason was terrified that something was going wrong with the baby when he saw her lying in bed, curled into a tight ball. “Alex, what’s wrong?” he asked, afraid, as he climbed into bed beside her, rubbing her back gently. “Did the doctor say something was wrong?” he asked, hesitantly. He prayed nothing was wrong with Alex or the baby.

  Alex shook her head.

  Jason continued rubbing her back, both relieved and even more worried. If there was nothing wrong with the baby, then what was going on? “Alex, tell me what happened,” he said, easing her into his arms so he could hold her while she cried.