Bah, Humbug! (A Romantic Comedy Christmas Novella)
Page 9
Chapter One
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to feed the sheep.” Marilyn Banks pulled the side door closed, shutting out the sounds of both The Laurence Welk Show, and her husband.
The cold Wyoming air bit into her and she pulled the zipper on her fleece coat up a few notches before moving forward to grip the cold metal rail. The screen door slammed shut behind her as she carefully made her way down the frosted stairs.
An arthritic pain shot through her right knee, so she turned and went down the stairs in an awkward, crab-like way to relieve the discomfort. Lord, what a way to live. Seventy-one and feeling like ninety.
She made her way to the side of the barn, stopped beside the wooden fence and looked out over the barren pasture. At her appearance, three winter-wooly sheep made their way toward her. She filled a bucket with corn from the shed, gave them some molasses water, then plucked the pitchfork from where it lay against the side of the barn. She shoveled some alfalfa over the fence, but just a bit at a time because her strength wasn’t what it used to be. Finishing, she cupped both hands over the top of the pitchfork and settled back to watch the sheep eat. The two lambs had been born in the spring, and although grown, were still full of spunk and sass. She watched the three of them feed, butting against each other, their antics making her smile. “Lucky little critters,” she said. “If I hadn’t been reading the good book and come to the part about the shepherds in the field, I’d have forgotten about you altogether.”
They bleated a bit in response, but mostly just ate. She breathed in the cold, crisp air, and glanced around, taking in the beautiful night. She’d forgotten to turn on the outside lights, but the moon seemed very bright tonight, so she could see quite clearly. The snow had almost melted, but it was only December first, so plenty of time yet for a white Christmas. She glanced up, and her mouth literally fell open.
There was no moon out tonight. A star, bright and shining lit up the sky above. It was bigger and brighter than any star she’d ever seen.
Her skin broke out in gooseflesh that had nothing to do with the cold. She’d just been reading the Christ story in the bible, and couldn’t help the thoughts that suddenly slid into her mind.
Here she was, out by the barn with the sheep, and the biggest and brightest star she’d ever seen in her life was shining down on her. There must be some kind of meaning to it all.
As she looked up at the star, a feeling of peace settled over her. Maybe it was a sign. A sign just for her. An indication that the wish dearest to her heart would come true.
Feeling a pang of embarrassment at her foolishness, she glanced down and replaced the pitchfork. Well, whatever it was, she was too old and too tired to stand out here in the cold and figure it all out. She turned to go, then stopped.
Old she might be, but she wasn’t stupid. It was December, there was a big star in the sky, and if there was a chance that this was supposed to mean something to her personally, then she wasn’t messing it up. She’d already messed up too much in her life. She was going to make a wish on that star.
Closing her eyes, she thought about all the things in her life that could use some help, then smiled. Of course she knew exactly what she was wishing for, but simply wanted to prolong the moment. She opened her eyes and looked up at the star. “I wish that my husband, my daughter and Jake could forgive each other this Christmas season.”
The star continued to shine just as brightly.
Slowly, this time with hope filling her heart, she made her way back to the house.
And missed seeing the star twinkle in the sky.
* * *
Standing outside her car, in the freezing December weather, Elsie Banks glared at the sack of chocolate chip cookies that had slipped to the floor of her Acura. Arms loaded with groceries, dry cleaning, briefcase and purse, a stack of mail in one hand and keys in the other, she was definitely not in the mood for this. There were two steep flights of stairs to her apartment, and she was not making another trip down. She continued to glare. She needed those cookies.
Hooking the key ring onto her thumb, she bent her knees and leaned into the car sideways, balancing both grocery sacks. Carefully she retrieved the cookie bag with her index and middle finger, slowly straightened, and breathed a sigh of relief. She shut the car door with one hip, turned and headed for the stairs.
What a day. Chicago traffic had been a nightmare and the pharmaceuticals company she worked for a mad house. She was exhausted. In charge of the staff meeting in the morning, she’d stayed late to finish preparing. Now she had a million things at home to catch up on, but all she wanted to do was relax, finish reading a romance novel, and eat the entire bag of chocolate chip cookies.
She was breathing heavily by the time she stood outside her apartment door. Wriggling the key into the doorknob, then the dead bolt, she managed to push into her apartment before dropping items on the floor.
Her two cats came running toward her as she kicked the door closed. “Hi, babies.” They followed her into the kitchen and she grinned. “Hungry?” She set the mail and groceries on the table and opened a couple of cans of cat food as the animals rubbed against her legs.
While they were happily eating, she popped a TV dinner into the oven, put away the groceries, then sat at the kitchen table and sorted through the stack of mail. Junk mail, a couple of bills, a Christmas card from an old high school friend in Wyoming, and a seminar notice.
She lifted the postcard. A man named Gabriel Christensen was putting on a seminar. How to get organized, get focused, and get the life you really want.
She shook her head. Not even a little bit interested. Flicking the postcard into the trash, she opened her file folder and placed the bills in the appropriate slots. She was already organized, focused, and had the life she wanted. She didn’t need anyone telling her how to do it.
She opened the Christmas card and Sallie Johnson, her husband and three children smiled back at her. Elsie’s heart wrenched as unexpected pain washed through her. She closed her eyes briefly. She wouldn’t let this distress her. She had a wonderful job, great friends, and a fabulous life. She dated. If she wanted to be married with three kids, she would be. Still could be. There was plenty of time. Thirty-two wasn’t exactly over the hill. And she was always being complimented on her long dark hair and brown eyes. It wasn’t as if she were dog meat or anything. Just choosy.
She opened her eyes and looked at Sallie’s oldest child. He must be at least ten years old now. If Elsie had married Jake--
She snapped the card closed, unwilling to let her thoughts go there. It didn’t matter anymore. She had exactly the life she wanted, and she was happy. Very happy. Fulfilled. Contented.
A sudden yearning for home filled her. She tried to push the feeling aside. She’d been home last month and it had been uncomfortable. She had no plans to visit again anytime soon. Standing, Elsie hung the Christmas card in the archway above the kitchen entrance with the few others she’d already received and gazed up at them. Since it was already December second, she really ought to get her own cards into the mail.
After checking the TV dinner, she pulled Christmas cards and addresses out of the appropriate files, and dug into her purse for her favorite pen. Her hand clasped a small, thick piece of paper and she pulled it out. Another seminar notice. How strange. She didn’t remember putting it there.
She chucked it in the trash on top of the other notice and continued to look for her pen. When she didn’t find it, she went into the living room and checked her coat pocket. Her hand clasped a thick piece of paper, about the size of a postcard, and chills ran up her arm. Slowly, she pulled out the paper.
Another seminar notice.
The hair at the base of her neck stood up. What the heck was going on here? Sunday school class, the bible, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and teachings from her childhood flashed through her mind. Was she meant to go to this conference? Was someone trying to tell her som
ething? She continued to stare at the notice, then gave her head a quick shake and released the breath she was holding.
What was she thinking? It was amazing how quickly she could revert to irrational childhood beliefs. Having a mother who’d read the bible every day of Elsie’s life was still affecting her. No doubt someone from work was playing a joke. Teasing about her organizational skills. She’d get razzed in the morning.
As Elsie walked to the trash, she tore up the notice, then let the pieces flutter into the garbage. Symbolically she brushed off her hands. One thing was for certain. She was not going to the seminar.
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Thanks again.
I hope you enjoyed the read.
Heather Horrocks