A Christmas Miracle

by Anna Adams

  “With everyone else?”

  He nodded. Whatever she believed, if it weren’t for her, he didn’t believe he would have felt so self-conscious about facing the situation. Getting to know her had begun to make everything different.

  Names and faces melded for the next few hours. The restaurant was known for its mile-high sandwiches and its groupings of furniture that made the place seem like a series of living rooms. Jason found himself wondering who’d be next in his office at the bank.

  But they all treated him as if he was welcome instead of some psycho mix of the Grinch and Scrooge—which was how he’d begun to feel.

  As the evening ended, he spilled out with everyone else, shaking hands and agreeing to attend the Friday practice. Fleming waited for him at the edge of the group.

  “You were a better joiner than I was,” she said.

  He flattened his hand at the back of her waist as they walked toward the square and his hotel. “I enjoyed it. They were friendly, and I like that you’re all talking about the future here. They plan to be around.”

  “We have a nice place to live. I’m not the only one who wants to keep my business.”

  “You have a nice place and good people.” He glanced down the street. “Where’s your car?”

  “Behind the hotel in the public lot. Why? You want to go somewhere?”

  He gazed at her, and the silence around them made the moment more intimate. “No one’s ever walked you to your car before?”

  She looked at him, startled. A slow, sweet smile curved her mouth. “Dates,” she said. “Guys who wanted to go out with me and were trying to make an impression.”

  Jason laughed. “I thought you knew everyone here. Haven’t they already made an impression?”

  She glanced at him, her hair framing her face in soft waves. Her smile remained, shy, tugging at him, warming him.

  Warning him. Don’t play around with this woman. Don’t hurt her by pretending your feet won’t itch to move on.

  “I was just surprised you would want to come with me,” she said, all unaware of the cacophony in his head.

  “Even non-dates don’t let their friends walk off into the dark.” He could have. She was capable. Bliss seemed like a safe place. But as the hour came to end the evening, he didn’t want it to end.

  “Thanks. I’m happy to have your company.”

  Her answer surprised him. “Are you afraid of the dark?”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets. “I am, a little. Enough that shadows turn into monsters when I least expect it. I once ran from a waving tree limb on Halloween when my friends left me behind while we were trick-or-treating.”

  “I sometimes wish you weren’t so open,” he said, smiling to soften the abrupt words.

  “I know. I tell you too much. I’m not like that with everyone. You’re not, by any chance, afraid of honesty, the way I’m afraid of the dark?”

  “I am when it makes me want to protect you.” She’d made him frank. Not a great thing. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings or make her think there might be more in the future than he had to offer.

  “I don’t get you. Sometimes you sound as if you’ve taken a vow to stay away from relationships.”

  “With people who owe my family’s bank money? People whose future is in my hands?”

  “I didn’t realize banking ethics could be so strict.” Her voice was rich with amusement as they turned the corner and left the festive lights on the square behind them. “Do you see all the waving tree branches?”

  “Like bony, grabbing fingers.” He moved closer to her because he wanted to, even though he knew he shouldn’t. “Don’t be afraid, Fleming.”

  Her laughter was a bubble of warmth that seemed to surround them. “If only all fears were as easy to explain away as bony-fingered limbs. Here’s my car.”

  She stepped off the curb. As she touched her door handle, the locks opened. She looked up at him. He’d followed her without thinking, and was standing too close, staring at her pale face, which disturbed him with its sweetness.

  “Good night, Jason. You’ve been a good sport about tonight.”

  “I had a good time.” He wanted to kiss her. Even just to feel the coolness of her cheek against his lips.

  “I have to go. Mom’s been in town for a couple of days, and I need to see her before she leaves again tomorrow.”

  He allowed himself to squeeze Fleming’s wrist as she held on to the open door. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She made the two words sound regretful, as if she, too, wished they didn’t have to part.

  * * *

  THE MORNING AFTER the caroling, Katherine was packing to return to Knoxville, where Hugh had begun to grow impatient for her return. Fleming helped her.

  “I’m sure we’ll be back before Christmas Eve.” Katherine tucked her last sweater into the top of her bag. “And if you need me for anything, you can call. Anytime. Ever.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Fleming didn’t feel fine at all, but having her mother worried and handling her with care only made her more anxious. “I will call if I make a drastic change.”

  “I’ve been trying to think of a way to make you believe I want to help.”

  “I do believe, Mom.”

  “But you didn’t call me when you needed me more than you ever have.”

  “That was a mistake,” Fleming said. “I didn’t want to ruin your honeymoon.”

  Her mother frowned, making an arrow of her brows. “You know I made Hugh wait a long time for me.”

  Fleming nodded. “I’ve worried that was because of me.”

  Her mother shrugged. “Maybe partly, but I wanted the store, too, honey. Maybe I didn’t trust Hugh to be the real thing that he is in my life. My one true love. I thought I’d committed to him, but I stayed here, visiting him on weekends, or having him come down. I didn’t understand that I had to make the decision to trust him with my life and my future—not until he made me choose to be with him or keep my boundaries up and stay here.”

  “Why did you marry him if you weren’t sure you could trust him?” Fleming thought of Jason. She didn’t want to. He wasn’t anything to do with her future. He had no right getting into her head when she and her mother were talking about family.

  “I think I saw him as my backup plan. I know now that I had it backward. After I met him, the store should have been my plan B. Hugh should have come first—or first alongside you.”

  Fleming was bewildered by the concept of holding on to a business in case a marriage didn’t work out. But maybe she should be more diligent about making her own just-in-case scenario. She hadn’t written a word since her mother had come home. Her backup plan appeared to consist of hiding the fact that she was doing anything except panicking at the thought of losing the store.

  “If it comes to the point where we lose Mainly Merry Christmas, it’ll be because our best wasn’t good enough,” Fleming said, as much to herself as to her mother.

  “It’s your shop now. You don’t owe me anything. If it fails or flies, I’m only here to be your soft place to land, not to blame you.”

  “I want you to go home to your life.”

  Her mother shook her head. “I see how hard you’re working, but I feel as if I should be here beside you.”

  “No. Did you hear yourself a few minutes ago? Your life is with Hugh now, and this is my choice, to run the store. I’ll make it work.”

  Her mom picked up the suitcase, but doubt strained her expression as she glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. The traffic around Pigeon Forge can be pretty awful on a Saturday afternoon.”

  “Let me get your bag.” Fleming took it from her mother’s hand and carried it down the stairs. She helped her mom stow it in the car and then
they walked to the driver’s door of her neat little sedan. Katherine pulled her into a quick hug.

  “I’m still having second thoughts about leaving.”

  “The papier-mâché dry run went well, and I’ll do everything else we’ve talked about.” They’d discussed a twenty-five days of Christmas promotion that would start on the first of December, along with some new PR on the radio and in the local press, plus on community bulletin boards.

  “I’m sure the ornaments will be a success.”

  “I hope to get out wearing a little less paste next time.”

  Katherine pulled her close for one last hug as the wind whispered around them. “I love you, honey. Take good care, and remember to enjoy the holidays, too. Don’t work yourself to death.”

  Fleming smiled. She didn’t know what else to do, with her mind on the shop, and her concentration focused on not grabbing her mother’s arm to take a look at the time on her watch.

  Katherine got in the car. Fleming waited until she waved after reversing down the driveway, then ran for her own car and headed into town—to work. Last night had been fun and relaxing, but kind of a break from real life. Today she had to get back to making the business successful.

  Normally, Fleming enjoyed the holiday happiness of visitors wandering through the streets in search of the perfect sweater or pancake or hand-tooled leather bag. Today she was beyond driven to open her own door in case someone wanted to come in and buy something.

  She grabbed her laptop from the backseat after she parked behind the hotel. Sometimes she managed to write a few words at lunchtime if the shop wasn’t busy. This morning, she needed to do up several varied press releases for the radio. A local cable channel also hosted a bulletin board to boost local business. She’d send something to them, as well.

  But first things first.

  She hurried through the empty, darkened store, flipping on lights, until she reached the front door. As she opened it, a man passing by glanced up from staring at the sidewalk.

  Jason. Moody, serious. A banker.

  When he saw her, his eyes softened for the merest second. A slight smile deepened the curve of his mouth. But then he turned his head, exposing a phone at his ear as he looked away.

  He kept going. Somehow that hurt. He was busy, not snubbing her. She knew that, but her heightened feelings for him made her sensitive.

  She was busy, but if she’d passed him, even while talking on the phone, she would have stopped to say hello.

  Because last night had meant something to her, but not to him.

  It wasn’t his fault. She couldn’t be angry. He’d warned her about himself.

  For a few hours, he’d seemed like he might think about staying in a sweet, welcoming town full of potential friendships. She’d felt safe in the shadows because she’d been with him, but they couldn’t be more than customer and mortgage holder.

  She’d do well to follow his lead and stop thinking about him before she got her heart hurt.

  Jason was running his business. Sighing, Fleming bent to plug in the train and get back to her own job. She muttered her hopes and prayed that the holiday and the economy would go her way, just long enough to give her shop a firm foundation to stand on into the new year.

  Being this afraid made Fleming angry. She had some answers. She just had to take charge and start making the answers work for her. She set up the laptop on the checkout counter and started the first press release before anxiety made her go blank with fear.

  * * *

  MAYBE HE SHOULD have kept Paige around to deal with the actual people who were named in these files, Jason thought. That would have been the easier choice. Staying uninvolved had proved to be impossible. But he’d see that Paige paid for manipulating the bank’s customers into the decisions that had gotten them all into this trouble.

  It was fine to say that big banks had made bad loans, but in a small town like this, where one man had too much power and too small a heart, things had gotten out of hand in a hurry.

  Jason stared at the loan information for Baxter Starnes’s family home and literally wanted to be sick. The house had been paid off until Baxter’s son developed a mental health issue that had required several years of expensive treatment.

  He could see how Paige had convinced the Starnes family they might be able to cover the loan. Barely.

  Jason’s cell phone vibrated, spinning in a half circle on his borrowed desk. Without looking at the caller’s name on the screen, he answered.

  “Jason? This is your mother.” Her words ran together, almost as if they were one. Jason yanked the phone away from his ear to stare at the screen. How had she gotten his number? “Teresa Macland Brown.”

  He heard her voice, but it took a second to lift the phone to his ear again. “I know your name.”

  “I sent you a letter.” Her voice broke, her faint hint of nervousness at odds with her brittle tone. “Did you get it? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you decided not to respond again.”

  “Again?” As if she’d been blasting his mailbox with her newsy correspondence for decades. “I got one letter.”

  “And ignored it. I know I handled leaving badly, but I don’t understand why you’ve always been so determined to make me pay for it for the rest of my life. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”

  She made no sense. On the other hand, his family rarely made sense. His father used anger and silence. She’d simply walked away. And somehow they’d tried to make Jason feel as if he was the cause of the problems between him and his parents.

  “What is it you want?” He wasn’t about to ask what made today different from all the days that had passed since he’d watched her drive off between towering New York City buildings.

  “I’m sorry. I’m handling this badly, too. This is not the way I meant to behave. I suppose with your father—”

  “I am not my father.”

  “Maybe I should get to the point before you hang up on me. I’ve been back in town for several years, and I’m tired of seeing the house in such a state of neglect.”

  “You live in New York again?”

  “Here. In Bliss.”

  That silenced and shocked him. Did he have a loan in here with his mother’s name on it? “My father’s bank gave you a mortgage?”

  “Not in a million years. He stole my house when he left the marriage.”

  “He didn’t leave.”

  “I physically left. He was absent long before he dragged us all to New York. At least we had a home here.”

  “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “You might think the past doesn’t matter now, but here’s what matters. Robert Macland stole my house and everything in it. I chose it. I decorated it. It was my consolation during those years of neglect, and then Robert left my house and everything I cared for to molder.”

  Jason noticed she didn’t say a word about her son. That shouldn’t have been a surprise. “You own a house, and my father is keeping you from it?”

  “I happen to know it’s in your name. I’d like to meet with you to discuss your plans for it.”

  He laughed, but not with any humor. Teresa Macland Brown appeared to have parted company with reality. “I don’t have a house. What’s happened to you?” Was she on drugs? Drinking? Delusional?

  “Robert put it in your name to keep me from getting it back. Are you pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

  He was arrogant? She brought the word to life. “I don’t have a clue whether you believe this story you’re telling, but you’re wrong. I don’t own a house in Bliss, Tennessee. I don’t have anything that belongs to you. I haven’t even heard from you in two decades.”

  Her silence, punctuated by short, harsh breaths, screamed frustration. “That’s just not true.
” When she gasped, he froze. From any other woman, it would have sounded like a sob she was trying to silence. “You’re my son,” she said. “You think I’d leave you to Robert?”

  “That’s exactly what I know.” Her adamancy confused him. “I don’t lie,” he stated firmly. “If I have a problem with you, I’ll tell you, and I have a problem with you calling me now and accusing me of any of this.”

  She was silent again, but her breathing slowed and calmed. “You really don’t know?”

  It wouldn’t be beyond his father to lie to him, but at this point, Jason had no reason to believe he had.

  “I think you should talk to Robert,” his mother said. “He’s kept you in the dark.”

  “I’m not—”

  “If you aren’t going to sell the house, if you decide you want to live in it, I’d like to make a proposition.” Her tone went from indignant to pleading. “I could rent the guesthouse from you. I’d be glad to work as caretaker, even if it’s in my own home. I can send you references.”

  She hung up on him. As if he were the one in the wrong. As if he’d abandoned her. And she wasn’t his mother.

  And all he felt was appalled at her offer to work for him, taking care of a house that apparently he owned, that had belonged to her.

  The rage of decades burned through Jason as he curled his hands into fists, trying to hold it all inside. He’d never heard from her after the first few months of her absence, had never had one visit with her. She hadn’t called on a graduation day, remembered a birthday, thought of sending even a note on a holiday. The best thing she could do was ‘Let me live in my house’ because she happened to find out he’d returned to Bliss?

  He shoved his phone inside a drawer and tried to get his mind back on his work.

  But in the back of his head, all day long, her advice rattled around. I think you should talk to Robert. He’s kept you in the dark.

  Would it be the first time? His father was known for his ability to manipulate businessmen and recalcitrant offspring alike. Most of the decisions Jason had made after college were a response to his refusal to fall in with his father’s plans for him.