“Is this what made you sick?” Wendy held the box so Kara could see.
“Ugh—yes—swordfish.”
Wendy pulled out her phone and was soon talking to a poison control center. The woman was just telling her to get Kara in for medical help when Kara’s brother burst into the house, demanding to know what was wrong. Taylor tearfully told him, and Wendy relayed what she’d just heard from the poison control woman.
“I’ll take her to the ER,” Greg told Wendy. “Can you take the girls to your house?”
“Yes, of course.” Wendy nodded. “They can spend the night.”
Greg scooped up Kara, whisking her away. Then Wendy helped Tessa and Taylor gather some overnight things. Their little house was similar to hers, but it was sparse and barren—impoverished. She realized as they were locking up that it was also cold and damp—a rental cabin that had never been improved for year-round occupancy. What a sad way to live.
Wendy was glad she’d cleaned out the third bedroom for the Realtor’s visit. She’d sorted, relocated, and given away all the stored items until she’d finally exposed a full-sized bed and several other pieces of bedroom furniture. As she led the girls to this “guest room,” Wendy tried to reassure them that their mom would be okay. “Your uncle will make sure she gets good care.” She watched as they set their things on the bed.
“We should all pray she gets well soon,” Jackson told them.
“Good thinking,” Wendy said. “Let’s do that now.” They all bowed their heads, praying that Kara would get good help, get well, and come home soon.
“Can we make Mommy some more sand dollar angels?” Tessa asked when they were done. “She really liked the ones we brought home.”
“Yes,” Wendy agreed. “And I’ll cook us up a great big pan of homemade macaroni and cheese.” She turned to Jackson. “How about if you get a fire going?”
All in all, it turned into a pleasant evening. Greg called to tell them that with an IV and some medication, Kara was going to be just fine and that she’d probably be released later that evening. “I’ll keep the girls overnight just the same,” Wendy told him.
By the time Wendy delivered the girls back to their house the next morning, along with their sand dollar angels, Kara looked weak but much improved. “I can’t thank you enough.” She hugged Wendy. “I’m so lucky to have such good neighbors. Thank you so much!”
Still, as Wendy drove home after dropping Jackson off to work with Caleb, she felt like Kara’s misfortune carried a serious warning. A single mom without good employment in a seasonal tourist town had some serious challenges to face. Kara had a brother to help her, but even so she’d been completely vulnerable yesterday. And Wendy had no family to fall back on. It was just her and Jackson. She knew it was her parental responsibility to make sure their life was as secure as possible. If the cottage sold today, that would be just fine!
She’d just gone inside the cottage when Sandi called to say that her buyers were in the Caribbean until next Wednesday. Wendy said that was fine, but as she put away her phone she felt severely disappointed. She was ready to wrap this up and return to Ohio ASAP. Well, except she still hadn’t told Jackson. For that reason, she was grateful for the delay. She didn’t relish the idea of the buyers poking around the cottage when Jackson came home. That would be awkward!
On Sunday morning, Jackson was up early, neatly dressed, and ready to go to church. “Taylor just texted me from her mom’s phone,” he said as they got into the car. “She wants to stay home with her mom today. But she promised to go to youth group with me next week.”
“That’s nice.” Wendy pursed her lips, trying to think of an easy way to tell Jackson that they would probably be headed back to Ohio by next weekend. Later . . . she’d tell him after church.
“That storm’s still not here,” Jackson observed as she pulled into the parking lot.
“I just heard it’s been circling the Atlantic and is supposed to hit midweek,” she said as they got out.
“Cool. I can’t wait to see what it does to the beach. We’ll probably find all kinds of shells.”
She just nodded, promising herself that she would tell Jackson the truth about selling the cabin this afternoon. They should have plenty of time to hash it out with no interruptions. But after church let out, while she and Jackson were visiting with Caleb, another distraction popped up.
“Mom’s making clam chowder for lunch today,” Jackson told Caleb. “It’s her grandma’s special recipe. You should come over and have some with us.”
“Did you have success with your clam digging?” Caleb asked Jackson.
“No,” Jackson admitted. “Mom’s going to use canned clams.”
“That sounds good to me.” Caleb grinned hopefully at Wendy. “If you really want me to—”
“Yes, of course,” she assured him. “Please, come join us for clam chowder. The clams might be canned, but the bacon is fresh.” She smiled.
“How about I bring a good loaf of bread?”
She nodded. “Perfect.”
As they drove home, she couldn’t deny feeling relief at having one more excuse to delay what would be a hard conversation with Jackson. In fact, she wondered if the kindest thing would be to not say a word until the buyers actually made their cash offer—then just tell him, “It’s a done deal and it’s time to go.” Sort of like ripping off a bandage. It might sting, but it wouldn’t last long.
Caleb showed up with a big smile and a loaf of bread. “It just hit me that you got to have my grandma’s seafood stew and now I get to enjoy your grandma’s clam chowder,” he said as she led him inside. “Very nice.”
To Wendy’s delight, Caleb looked thoroughly impressed with the cottage as he removed his coat. “This place is sweet,” he told both of them. “You guys do some seriously good work.” He paused to admire the shell-framed mirror by the front door. “Wendy, did you make this?”
“She did,” Jackson proudly informed him. “And all these other things too.” Now he led Caleb around, showing him each handmade item and finally stopping in front of the Christmas tree.
Caleb let out a low whistle. “Man, that has got to be the prettiest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.”
“I cut it down myself,” Jackson proclaimed.
“And these ornaments.” Caleb pointed to a sand dollar angel. “Did you guys make these?”
“Mom made most of ’em. I helped a little, but it was her idea.”
“Wendy.” Caleb turned to face her. “You could easily sell those.”
“Really?” She spilled out the story of taking them to his shop. “But you were gone and Crystal, uh, well, she didn’t think they were so hot.”
Caleb laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet she didn’t. But if you want to sell them in my shop, I’d be proud to have them. And I plan to be open a lot between now and Christmas. Seems like the town has had more traffic than usual this year. I’m sure I could sell a lot of those during the next week. Hey, maybe I could get a tree to put in the window to display them on.”
“I’ll help you get a tree,” Jackson offered. “I know where to go and everything.”
“Great.” Caleb turned to Wendy. “Bring in whatever you want on Tuesday and we’ll get it all set up. And I’d love to consign some of your larger items too. I wouldn’t be surprised if some got purchased as Christmas presents.”
Wendy tried not to get her hopes up as they sat down together at the kitchen table. She’d done that too many times before . . . only to be disappointed. But as they bowed their heads to ask for God to bless the food, she silently prayed for a miracle. Please, do something to allow us to stay here permanently, she prayed with urgency. Please, help us keep this happy home. Please!
fourteen
ON TUESDAY MORNING, the predicted nor’easter was just starting to show its face. The sky was pewter gray and the wind was whipping the sea grass as Wendy drove to town. She’d loaded the back of her car with all her handcrafted treasures—some that she’d only
just finished last night. But she was eager to get them unloaded before the storm cut loose.
Caleb met her outside, helping her carry the boxes and packages into the shop. And there in the center of the front window, just like Jackson had told her last night, stood a tall pine tree. “And lights too!” Wendy happily watched as Caleb plugged it in.
“Of course. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to it. Go ahead and decorate the tree and put your pieces wherever you think they best fit.” Caleb showed her where he’d laid out the paperwork and price tags. “I’ll be in my woodshop. And we don’t officially open until ten, so no one should interrupt you.”
She went right to work filling out the paperwork and putting on price tags, then carefully arranging and rearranging her various pieces. They really were perfect accents to Caleb’s handmade furniture, and if just a couple pieces sold, well, she would have grocery money. Finally, she decorated the tree. Besides all the sand dollar angels, she’d made lots of shell decorations yesterday. As she stood back to admire it, she couldn’t help but feel a flush of pride. It was even better than she’d expected.
“Wow!” Caleb came into the shop. “That is absolutely stunning, Wendy.” He shook his head in disbelief as he came closer. “Seriously, it’s beautiful. We need to be sure and get some photos.” He looked around the shop to see where and how she’d placed her other pieces. “You have a real knack for this.” He pointed to a shelf unit that she’d added items to. “Really nice touches! We better get some photos of those too.”
She thanked him and was just handing him her paperwork when Crystal came in through the back door. “What have we here?” She unbuttoned her coat. “I noticed the Christmas tree from the street, and I must say it looks very festive. Nicely done, Caleb.”
“This is Wendy’s doing,” he told her. Although Crystal acted like this was perfectly wonderful, Caleb exchanged glances with Wendy. “Come into my woodshop and we’ll go over this paperwork.” He led her to the back.
“I just want to thank you,” Wendy said after he closed the door, “for giving me this chance, Caleb. You don’t know how much it means to me.”
“I’m happy to do it. Your things only make my shop look better.” Suddenly his grin faded. “Hey, what’s this?” He held up a page, pointing to the Ohio address she’d written on the line designated for mailing the check.
“I didn’t want to have to tell you this,” she began carefully, “mostly because Jackson doesn’t even know about it yet, but I listed the cottage with a Realtor and I—”
“What? Are you serious?”
“I signed papers with Sandi Atkins last week, and she has a cash buyer that—”
“But what does that mean?” he demanded. “You and Jackson are leaving?”
“I’m supposed to report back to work before Christmas . . . in Cincinnati,” she said. “According to Sandi, her buyers could be here in a couple days and she’s pretty certain they’ll want it and we can—”
“Of course they’ll want it!” He was pacing now. “You’ve made the cottage so nice. Why wouldn’t they want it? But I thought you did that for you and Jackson. I didn’t realize you were leaving Seaside.”
“I don’t want to leave,” she confessed. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
“But you’re telling me that you’re leaving.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I just don’t get it.”
“I’m a single parent, Caleb. I have responsibilities to my son—”
“Yes. And your son loves it here in Seaside. Can’t you see that?”
“Of course I can see that. But you don’t understand. I still have huge medical bills from when my husband was sick. And there are college loans that still aren’t paid off. I need a job that pays a family wage. Even then, without selling the cottage, I don’t see how I’ll ever get ahead.” Now she told him about what happened with Kara over the weekend. “I keep thinking that could be me.”
“But you said she was fine now.”
“She is fine, but she lives on the edge. Tessa told me that if her mom’s tips at the restaurant aren’t good, they have to live on ramen noodles. I can’t do that to Jackson.”
“Maybe you should ask Jackson. Ramen noodles in Seaside might trump sirloin steak in Cincinnati!”
She was frustrated now, wishing she’d never said anything to him. The only reason she had was because he’d given her hope. She’d wanted to ask him if he thought she could really make it here—and if she should cancel her contract with Sandi. But he was so upset that all she wanted to do was get away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t usually fly off the handle. But I feel sort of blindsided. I honestly didn’t think you were leaving. Jackson sure doesn’t.”
“I know, and for the time being, we need to keep it that way.” She sadly sighed. “Please, don’t mention this to him.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for letting me put my things in your shop.” Her eyes felt blurry as she stared down at the table he was currently working on. “And I know you’re busy. I should let you get back to it. This is lovely by the way, and I know you’ve got a lot to get done before Christmas.” She hurried out, and without saying a word to Crystal, grabbed up her coat and purse and ran outside.
As she drove home, she felt hot tears streaking down her cheeks. She hadn’t expected Caleb to react like that. She’d thought he would understand. But then, he wasn’t a dad. He was a “confirmed bachelor” who didn’t have the kind of grown-up responsibilities she had. But witnessing his strong reaction reminded her that Jackson’s would be even worse. Oh, why did this have to be so hard?
Wendy had no incentive to do anything back at the cottage. Instead, she simply walked around and around, with Oliver trailing her. As she walked, she stared at all the projects she and Jackson had worked so hard to complete—knowing full well that the cash buyers would probably just tear it all out anyway. Based on Sandi’s comments about deep pockets and expensive taste, this cottage would probably be completely gutted in a week or two. If they paid her cash on Thursday, they could be tearing into it as soon as this weekend. It made her want to scream.
The bare and unlit Christmas tree felt like a metaphor for her life. She wished she hadn’t taken all of her ornaments to Caleb’s shop. What difference would it make whether they sold or not? And with the nor’easter just starting to bear down, it was unlikely that holiday shoppers would be around. The sooner she and Jackson got out of here, the better it would be—for everyone. And yet the idea of saying goodbye to Caleb—if he would even talk to her again—made her feel sick inside.
As she continued to pace back and forth through the house, watching with only mild interest as the rain came down in sheets, she remembered that Jackson was supposed to work with Caleb after school, and that Caleb planned to deliver him home after five. Would this be her last chance to repair the rift between her and Caleb? Was it worth trying to make him understand? What if she ran out to meet him? She could apologize profusely—and invite him for dinner. And who knew where it might go from there?
Fueled with hope and fresh urgency, Wendy went into action making more tree ornaments. No reason she and Jackson shouldn’t enjoy their Christmas tree while they could. At a little before four, she cleaned up her crafting things, tidied the house, and started organizing for dinner, even putting cloth napkins and candles on the kitchen table. As she stirred the meat sauce, she hoped Caleb liked spaghetti as much as Jackson did. It was nearly five when she got a fire going in the fireplace. Then with everything sweetly ready and in place, she waited by the front window, her coat ready to throw on when Caleb showed up with Jackson. Perhaps the pouring rain would gain her some sympathy when she apologized. She would insist Caleb join them for dinner, and with Jackson watching, how could he refuse?
But five o’clock came and went. She fed Oliver and put another log on the fire and then, at five thirty, she texted Jackson, telling him that dinner
was ready and it was okay to invite Caleb. When she didn’t hear back from him, she grew concerned. She called Jackson’s number, and when it went straight to voice mail, she grew even more worried. She called Caleb’s number and, relieved to hear his voice, inquired about Jackson.
“Jackson?” He sounded slightly disoriented.
“My son,” she clarified with a bit of irritation. “Your able-bodied assistant. Remember?”
“Jackson hasn’t been here. He didn’t show up for work.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded.
“I mean he’s not here, Wendy. I haven’t seen him today.”
Her heart began to pound as she stared out to where the storm was raging with a vengeance. “Then where . . . where is he?” she asked in a tiny voice. “I, uh, I gotta go.” She hung up and tried to think. Where was Jackson? Of course, Taylor—he had to be with Taylor. She called Kara’s number, trying to keep her voice calm as she asked.
“I’m sorry, Wendy. I haven’t seen Jackson today.”
So Wendy asked to speak to Taylor, pressing her about Jackson’s whereabouts. “He didn’t ride the bus home,” Taylor explained. “He stayed in town. He was going to Caleb’s shop to help him today.”
“Oh.” Wendy felt tightness in her chest. “Okay then, if you happen to hear from him, please tell him to call me.” Still clutching her phone, she ran outside to where the wind was howling and sleet was mixing with the rain. Standing on the porch, she helplessly looked all around. Oliver, shivering beside her, seemed to be anxiously looking too. “Where is he, boy?” she asked in desperation. “Where is Jackson?”
Her phone jangled, making her jump. “Jackson?” she said without even checking the caller ID.
“It’s Caleb. What’s going on, Wendy?”
“He’s not here! He never came home on the bus. Taylor said he stayed in town—to work with you. And there’s—this—this storm!” She burst into tears. “Oh, where is he?”
A Christmas by the Sea Page 13