by Anna Adams
He could leave it rotting in the woods until it fell down, or he could rebuild it, but he already knew what he would do. He spent his working life restoring the derelict to functionality. That seemed to be his purpose.
After he restored a business, he moved on to the next one. Maybe it would be the same with this house, he thought wryly. A whole new business, flipping homes that had come to mean nothing to anyone.
He went to the porch steps. They rocked beneath his feet. He shouldn’t have let Fleming in the place the other day. He reached down and pulled up one loose board. It came away, screaming when the rusty nails couldn’t hold it in place.
He yanked another one off. Slowly, he stacked them all in a neat pile where no one could step on them and hit one of those nails. When there was nothing left except the supports the steps had rested on, he leaned down to inspect the crawl space.
Nothing in there that he could see, though the sun was getting low again. He straightened, listening to the wind sneak through all the openings vandals and squatters had left in the windows and walls.
What would his mother have done with this place if she’d kept it in the divorce? Would she have held on to it for all these years?
He stared at the house silently for a moment, then dragged his phone out of his pocket. He dialed his mother’s number. She answered on the second ring.
“Jason, is this really you?”
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi. I’m surprised.”
“So am I.” He’d considered rehabbing the house without contacting his long-lost mother, but it didn’t seem right. “Why did you send me the toy?”
“Because you wanted it.”
“Over twenty years ago.”
“And I’ve had it that long.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“Yeah. You took great care of me.” He began pacing, fighting his own anger. “I didn’t call about all that. I’m going to let you see the house if you want.” He stopped. “You must have seen it if you still live in Bliss.”
“I came back to Bliss about five years ago. I never expected to see you here. I was surprised to learn your grandparents moved to New York after I left.”
“They wanted me to have family. Dad traveled a lot back then, and he worked long hours.”
“I remember.”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see him. They were heading back into the past he still didn’t want to discuss with her. “Have you seen the house?”
“The outside. It made me so sad I never went in.”
“Well, you can if you want to.”
“I don’t know if I should. It might break my heart.”
What? He didn’t want to care about her broken heart.
Who had cared for her heart all these years? Someone had made her Mrs. Brown. “How’s Bryce Danforth?”
“Gone. Years ago. He wanted something—someone—different. I only wanted to breathe again, so I didn’t mind when he left.”
“Great.” Every mother’s son wanted to hear she preferred fresh air to him. “I’ll call you with a date and time to come out and look at the place. It’s not safe right now to walk around in. I need to do a few repairs.”
“Wait, Jason.” Her urgency stopped him when he’d been on the verge of hanging up. “I can’t afford to buy the house from you. I don’t know what I was thinking when I said I wanted it back. Will you consider my offer to work there?”
“I’m really not comfortable with the idea of you working for me so you have a place to live.” He didn’t mean to be rude, but they might as well get it straight that he wasn’t falling for any Macland family machinations.
“It’s too large for one single woman, anyway.” She didn’t seem to notice what he’d said.
He looked up. Two stories and a basement. An attic that had been converted into living space, and a large guesthouse apartment over the garage. It was a lot of room for any one person.
“When I make the floors safer, I’ll call you back.”
But now that he’d committed to it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to follow through.
* * *
THE STORE WAS empty when Fleming’s cell phone rang. It was late afternoon on a watery winter day, and the Christmas lights outside flashed colors on the faux snow in the windows and the dark-colored cushions of the window seats positioned in front of the displays. She grabbed her cell off the counter and answered.
“Are you coming?” Hugh asked without preamble. Her stepfather’s anxious tone heightened Fleming’s sense of guilt. “Your mother thinks you’re working yourself to death on her account. She thinks that’s why we haven’t seen as much of you lately.”
Had she stayed away from Knoxville more than usual? “I’m reluctant to leave for a weekend, but it’s got nothing to do with Mom. I can’t miss two whole days of sales at this time of year.”
“Then just come to the party on Saturday evening. Skip the tree trimming on Friday afternoon. We’ll be down there on Christmas Eve anyway.”
“I hate to break our tradition, Hugh. I remember when you brought that first tree to our house. As old as I was, I still suspected you might be Santa.”
He was silent for a moment. “Then come.” He sounded a little fed up, but she knew he loved her as if he’d always been her father. “We both want you to.”
Again, guilt swept Fleming. Hugh had given up an awful lot for her. He could have had a full-time wife years sooner if not for Fleming and her love for her home in the mountains. “I’ll think about it. But I feel as if every minute I spend away from the store is a moment I’ll regret.”
“I understand that, but I’m going to tell you something I always tried to tell your mother, and I hope you’ll listen a little better than she did. You have a life to live. Don’t give it up for the store. Maybe that shop shouldn’t be your first and only priority.”
“Maybe.” The thought made her sad. “But I’m not willing to give up on it.”
“And I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to give your mother the only gift she wants from you for Christmas. Your time.”
“You’re right. I know you are, but it doesn’t make things easier.”
“That Macland guy likes you. He’s not going to close the store. He’s gone out of his way to help you.”
She turned away from the counter, trying to make sure no one else could hear his booming voice—as if he’d published his very wrong assumptions in the newspaper, and every friend or neighbor in Bliss could see them. As she did so, she saw the woman in the aqua uniform again, standing outside the window.
Too worried-looking to be creepy, she roused Fleming’s protective instincts. Maybe she could just give the woman whatever she wanted so badly she kept coming back.
Unwilling to turn her back in case her unknown visitor disappeared again, she started toward the front of the store. “Hugh, I feel as if Jason’s already done too much for me, but even he can only go so far. He’ll close the shop if the business isn’t viable. He’ll have no choice.”
“Maybe that’s for the best, Fleming. Why devote any more time or money to a lost cause?”
“I understand you mean well, but I’m going to save the store.”
“I know you will.”
She wasn’t sure he meant it. “I’ll call you and let you know if I’m coming.”
She walked toward the door and smiled out at the woman, but the stranger seemed startled, and quickly turned away.
“Sorry,” the woman said, throwing the word over her shoulder.
“No,” Hugh said. “Just let me know you’re on your way. Goodbye, Fleming. Call your mother more often.”
“Okay.” He was right about that last advice. But when her news wasn’t good, saying
nothing was easier.
She hung up, slid the cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans and went outside. The cold air wrapped her in a frosty embrace, but the other woman had to be colder.
“Excuse me,” she called. The retreating figure put on some speed, getting away from her. “Excuse me,” Fleming said more loudly.
The woman whipped around the corner and disappeared like an hallucination.
What was so interesting about this store? And more to the point, who was she? Fleming didn’t recognize her. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her before that first night.
Shivering, Fleming went back inside. She studied the decorations, the lights twinkling around the glass insert in the door and around the plate glass windows. Quilts on rocking chairs, themed with Santas and snowmen. Red and green velvet bows on a red velvet sash looped along the building’s Victorian molding. Christmas trees stationed around the floor.
Maybe the stranger was lonely during the holiday season, and was drawn to the warmth of Mainly Merry Christmas. With the crackling fire on the deep hearth as a cozy background, Fleming could see how someone might long to sink into the scene set by this store. She’d want one of everything.
But what Fleming needed was one or two customers with deep pockets.
The door jingled, and she turned, half expecting to see the woman entering. Instead, it was Jason, his gaze concerned.
“Hi,” she said, in a breathy gasp.
He laughed. The sound was as rich as a cup of steaming hot chocolate. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She didn’t intend to admit she had an issue with a window-shopper. “I’m glad to see you.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t seem entirely convinced. “I hadn’t planned to come in, but you looked as if you had a problem.”
“So you thought you’d come solve it?” She regretted the question and her tone instantly. “I’m sorry. That was unkind. This place is my problem.”
He nodded. “I wish I could do something more to help you.”
She twisted her hands behind her back, linking them to keep from wringing them together where he could see. “Everything will be fine.”
“What are you planning next?”
“I have ornaments coming. They were delivered to the wrong address in a town in west Tennessee, but they’re on their way again. And wrapping,” she said. “A wrapping station right out on the sales floor. We have a ton of paper left from last year. Vintage designs that apparently I loved more than any customers did.” Sometimes she thought she’d been born in the wrong decade. “I’ll wrap packages from the time the store opens until I lock the doors at night if that’s what it takes to drag people in here.”
“Will you charge them per package?”
“No, I’ve paid for the paper and taken the loss already, and if they continue to shop while they wait for me to wrap, I may make a few extra sales.”
“I guess you can’t afford to hire someone to wrap for you.”
“No. It kind of stinks.”
“Get your mom down here.”
Hugh’s call replayed in Fleming’s mind. “She can’t come back right now. She and Hugh have an annual holiday party. She starts planning it at the end of the summer, and she’s at high speed right now.”
“You aren’t invited?”
His surprise made her laugh. He wasn’t staying in Bliss, and he didn’t intend to get involved with anyone, but he cared about her. She sobered when she realized he might think her family was like his—painfully detached. “I’m invited, but I don’t want to take the time away from here.”
He unbuttoned his coat. “You have to go to your parents’ party.”
Everyone had advice for her tonight.
He smiled at a woman walking past the store, who eyed them with curiosity. Fleming glanced between the two of them. She didn’t know her. Another indebted bank customer, maybe?
“Fleming, how old are you?” Jason asked.
“I’m surprised the information isn’t in my loan paperwork.”
“Just tell me. How many years have you been on this earth?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He stared at her, and the silence suggested she just answer the question.
“Twenty-four,” she said.
“Twenty-four Christmases with a mother who loves you so much she’s put you ahead of her own needs and wishes for most of those years.”
“Are you trying to make me feel guilty? Because Hugh already did that.”
“I’m trying to remind you what you’ve told me about regret.”
Twenty-four days out of all those thousands in a lifetime. It wasn’t that much time for her mother to ask. “We’re not talking about Christmas Day. They’ll come down here then. This is just for a party for their friends and Hugh’s colleagues.”
“And they want you to come,” Jason said.
“Has anyone asked you to go home for the holidays?” she asked, but Jason didn’t answer, and he looked as if he wasn’t going to. She didn’t want to push. “Knoxville is a long way to drive, and I’ll get back late,” she said.
“I’ll drive you.” If he was angry she’d asked the hurtful question, he wasn’t holding a grudge. “I’m not doing anything this weekend, and I could use a break from the accusatory looks I get in the diner when I go out for breakfast.”
“You have a lousy job to do at this time of year.”
“I’m starting to think for any time of year.”
She felt bad for him. It couldn’t be easy facing all the hurt people in Bliss. “You wouldn’t mind coming with me?”
“You’d consider letting me?” He tugged at his tie.
Jason always looked as if he was working in a New York City bank, not the spot his great-grandfather had dug into the limestone of this little town.
“They really want me to go,” she said, “and I don’t mind the drive so much if I’ve got company. Plus, if you come with me, Hugh won’t push all the eligible young interns he can find my way with jokes about mistletoe.”
“Maybe he thinks you’d be better off with an eligible intern than stuck up here by yourself on this mountain.”
“He’s a dad. He worries. He called me a little while ago, and he kept trying to suggest I’m putting the store before my own life.”
“He probably doesn’t want you to be caught in the same trap as your mom.”
“I don’t look at it that way. It’s my job.”
“It keeps you buried in this town. What’s here for you, Fleming?”
“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” How could they go from friendly to confrontational so swiftly? “Not everyone needs to be in a new place every month. I love this place and these people. I love my work, and I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“I don’t doubt you. If the store can be saved, I believe you can do it. It’s the ‘why’ I don’t understand.”
She gave in a little. “I know. This place seems stagnant to you. And to Hugh, as well.” She had to smile, ruefully. “He’s just trying to take care of Mom and me.”
Jason wisely switched topics. “So when do we go to this shindig?” He glanced at his watch.
She must be keeping him from something. Like starving some widows and children. Fleming stopped herself. Why be unkind to him now, even in her thoughts?
The woman who’d taken to staring into her store had unsettled her. Hugh’s advice made her question herself, and Jason’s continued inability to see the good things about Bliss frustrated her, but he’d offered her a favor.
“The shindig is Saturday. We can leave here at four and make it to the party fashionably tardy.”
“Sounds good. You know we have caroling practice on Saturday?”
“Family commitments qualify
as an excused absence.” Fleming watched him tighten his tie and tug the lapels of his black overcoat into place. She had an urge to go up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. An innocent thank-you to make up for her angry thoughts.
Instead, she moved around the counter. “I’ll pay for our gas and coffee on the road.”
“You better believe it,” he said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ON SATURDAY, they arrived late, due to traffic, and Fleming seemed nervous as she danced across the parking lot to her parents’ apartment building. Jason turned back, holding out his key fob to lock the car doors. He caught up with her as she reached the foyer.
“What’s up with you?” he asked as they stepped into the elevator.
“I don’t know. I get like this. They have their friends there, and they want me to be all interesting, but I’m just me. I feel like a sore thumb.”
“You’re interesting. Certainly not an introvert.”
She punched the button to take them to the tenth floor. “I’m not sure how you’d know that.” She studied herself in the reflective metal walls and primped her hair a little. She fascinated him, a mixture of indifference to her own beauty and the will to look good for Katherine and her husband’s sake.
“You really don’t want to be at this party, do you? I’m not sure you were this nervous in my office, talking mortgage terms.”
“I always come to please my mother, and I’m glad that Hugh considers me his daughter and wants to show me off to his friends. My own dad was never that proud I was his.” She tugged at the scarf around her throat. “What are you going to say when Hugh starts giving you the once-over because you came with me?”
“I’m here to back you up.” That wasn’t bad. Not a commitment. Not a promise that they’d mean something to each other in the future. Not even a date. Just one friend having another’s best interests at heart.
“Are you?” She ducked her head to hide a grin that made him smile. “Thanks,” she said. “So if I decide to bolt—”
“Not sure why you would, but I’d remind you that bolting would not please your mother or your stepfather.”