Ma was all that was tranquil as she answered. “There’s nothing you can do while he’s still in the hospital. Since the doctor operated today—”
“Operated! He’s in the hospital? Why didn’t I know about this?”
“Shush! You’re getting tense again. I can hear it in your voice.”
Her shush was the same one she’d used on him as a child. Mildred would smooth back his hair from his forehead with a cool hand and shush him after one of his bad dreams. Hearing the word, he oddly felt that hand on his brow as if she’d reached out through the phone.
“Okay, I’m calm. Just tell me why Pa had surgery and when he’ll be out of the hospital.”
Mildred explained about the broken hip. “We’ll be home day after tomorrow. Nance is with us, but I could use your help when I get Pa home.”
Nance was the Granger’s only biological child. She was almost ten years older than him and had been more of a second mother than a sister. It reassured him to know that level-headed Nancy was on hand to make decisions for Ma and Pa. Ma was creative and loving, but decision making wasn’t her strength. Not as scatterbrained as she was.
He thought for a moment, planning his leave of absence from the paper factory here in Racine. He was the production manager and couldn’t easily leave. Family had to come first, though.
“How long do you think I should plan to stay, Ma?”
The phone made a crackling sound, breaking up her answer. He must have driven past something that disrupted the cell signal. He’d been on his way home from work when Ma called.
“Did you say two weeks? And it sounded like you said, ‘Luau?’”
The call suddenly dropped. JT realized he must have been so concerned about Pa that he didn’t hear the warning beeps. His battery was dead. He knew that charging cord wasn’t working right. It didn’t charge last night.
Of all days for the battery to die!
Pulling the car into a driveway, he checked for oncoming vehicles and then turned around. With no charging cord, he couldn’t call human resources or his supervisor, so he’d go back into work and speak with HR and Mr. Winkle. JT had caught a glimpse of the man, still in his office, when he left earlier.
Maybe JT could catch his supervisor before left he for the day. And after that, JT would need to head for the Sprint store to buy a new cord. Thoughts ran through his head, and suddenly he realized he was holding his breath again.
Nothing would be right until he saw Pa and knew the man would recover. No matter how hard it would be to take time off, JT would head to Oak Grove tomorrow.
If only Pa and Ma hadn’t acted on impulse and moved away from Racine. Who relocated to southern Wisconsin in their retirement? People were supposed to move to Florida or Arizona when they got old, not Oak Grove or other small towns like it.
Three hours later, JT finally drove his black Ford Explorer up the cement driveway and into his attached garage. By the last light of the summer sun, he saw a package sitting on his front porch, against the door. Funny, but he didn’t remember ordering anything from Amazon.
He put the package out of his mind and considered what he still needed to do this night. Right about now, a shower and bed fit the bill. He groaned as he thought of the packing he had to do first.
It had been a long day before the call from Ma. The added hours spent arranging for his leave felt like bricks on his shoulders. Tightness gripped him, and JT stopped to release his breath. Honestly, the stress would kill him if he didn’t learn to manage it better.
Climbing out of the car, he ran a tired had through his dark brown waves. Touching his hair brought up another errand JT would need to take care of tomorrow—a haircut. Haircut, bank, Sprint Store.
When he’d left work for a second time, the Sprint Store was already closed for the evening. He’d get the cord tomorrow and go without a phone that night. At the thought of Ma not being able to reach him if Pa took a turn for the worse, familiar stress gripped his chest.
“My hands are warm.” He voiced the mantra out loud as he shook his hands.
Odd, but the phrase never failed to calm him. Last year, he’d read about the trick in a magazine. Thank goodness, since it helped so much.
Heading through the door from the garage into the house, JT flicked on the light and moved to the front door. He didn’t want to leave the package sitting outside. Thieves might realize the house was empty while he was away.
It was a small Amazon box, but not sealed with the official Amazon tape. Someone had reused the box, obviously. To send him what?
A quick glance at the return address showed it was sent from Oak Grove. The sender’s name had been smudged badly, and he couldn’t make it out. It did start with an M. That much he could see, so maybe Ma had sent it. After all, her first name was Mildred.
Pulling the jackknife from his front right pocket, he sliced through the packing tape. Inside, layers of tissue paper hid the contents. He pulled the tissue aside and found something small wrapped in more tissue paper. At the bottom, he saw an envelope addressed with his name.
The small, wrapped item drew him first. Ignoring the envelope, JT removed the white tissue paper to find a small, perfectly formed ornament.
A blonde hula dancer. Blonde? He thought hula dancer statues typically were of dark-haired Polynesians. For this ornament, the dancer wore a traditional grass skirt and a skimpy little red top. The dancer’s smile drew his eyes, along with her long, wavy hair.
The ornament was fixed to a base that read, “Christmas in July.” He couldn’t remember ever seeing a Christmas in July ornament. Was Christmas in July even a real thing?
Like the few other statues of hula dancers he’d seen, this one resembled those placed on truck or car dashboards. It reminded him of that crazy kids’ movie, Madagascar, where the penguin had a dashboard hula doll as his girlfriend.
Girlfriend! Why would he think such a silly thought while studying this hula dancer? And why would someone send such a strange Christmas ornament?
JT shook his shaggy head. Aloud, he wondered, “Why would anyone send me an ornament?” Whether the ornament was normal or strange, the better question was why anyone would send it in the first place.
Setting the ornament reverently on the table, he lifted out the envelope. Pulling a folded sheet of paper from it, he smiled at seeing it was Christmas stationary. The fat Santa grinned up at him from the top of the sheet with his pudgy wife next to him.
Cute! Whoever sent this really loved Christmas, for sure.
Aloha J. T.,
The hula girl is real and waiting for you. Come find your true love.
Wishing you Christmas cheer every day of the year,
Mrs. Claus
The letter was short, cryptic actually. Why would he want to find the hula girl? And who was Mrs. Claus? Since Santa wasn’t real, his wife couldn’t send this package. Who had mailed it to him then?
What did it mean, Come find your true love? This was a strange way to fix him up on a blind date.
The hula girl is real. Those words had him lifting the ornament again to study it. She was delicate with a joyful tilt to her lips. Her hands were held out as if she danced for him. Or beckoned him. And something about the small face tugged at his memory, like he’d seen her before.
A strange urge gripped him. Moving to the closet, JT pulled out the one Hawaiian shirt he owned. It was blue with large white flowers. His girlfriend at the time had told him the blue of the shirt made his blue eyes darker.
He had the shirt, but Bethany was long gone. She hadn’t been the one, and they both knew it before the relationship progressed too far. He didn’t miss her exactly, but he did get lonely.
Did the hula girl really exist? He’d pack his Hawaiian shirt and go to the luau that Ma mentioned before the phone went dead. Could be he was headed to Oak Grove for more than just to help Pa and Ma?
Maybe one specific girl really was out there, waiting for him. Dear God, let him find her!
Chapt
er 3
The weather was perfect. Bonnie lifted her face to enjoy the warmth of the evening sun, long golden strands falling away from her face as her head tilted backward.
It had been a hot July day. She welcomed the slight coolness that came with a Wisconsin summer evening. In the small wetland behind the strip mall, frogs croaked to one another, and a dragon fly buzzed nearby Bonnie.
How she loved her home and this small town? She couldn’t imagine living in a large town or city.
No, she would never leave Oak Grove. She’d vowed that at her high school graduation when she considered leaving to attend college. At the time, thinking about leaving had started a panic attack. Her first one, as she remembered it.
Rather than head to a university, Bonnie took online classes to get her business degree. That, along with culinary classes offered at a nearby technical college, were all the education she wanted for what she planned to do with her life. She loved running her restaurant.
Standing in the parking lot, Bonnie looked up and down the mall. Items filled the sidewalk in front of the businesses. An honest to goodness, old-fashioned sidewalk sale was happening, along with the luau. The other business owners had embraced the Christmas in July theme and were putting on summer sales that were a lot like Black Friday.
People flocked in, unfolding lawn chairs and pulling coolers. Bonnie had brought in extra help at the restaurant so she would be free to mingle with the community. Her mother had volunteered to oversee the restaurant that evening so her daughter was free.
Odd, since this luau had been her mother’s idea. Usually, Rita liked to be in the thick of any scheme so she could enjoy watching it happen. Tonight, Bonnie’s mother almost acted as if she were a shy girl who wanted to hide away.
What was she up to? Bonnie turned that question over and over in her mind as her grass skirt swished against her legs. Thankfully, Rita hadn’t insisted on her daughter wearing a skimpy swimsuit top as a part of the outfit. Bonnie wasn’t the kind of girl who liked to flash a lot of skin.
No, her t-shirt was comforting. Loose enough to be modest, it connected her with the business that was her whole life.
Checking a trash can, Bonnie caught Chuck’s eye and waved him over. The young man usually bussed the tables in her restaurant. Tonight, he was in charge of bringing out food and keeping the trash under control, and he beamed at the responsibility. Hopefully, he’d keep washing his hands after dealing with the trash.
As much as possible, Bonnie watched over him. Chuck was a good worker, but he easily forgot things like cleaning his hands. No matter, he was an incredible individual even if he did have Down Syndrome.
The local polka band stood ready at one end of the parking lot, opposite the stores. Without exception, each man wore a loud Hawaiian shirt. Strange to see since the band usually wore lederhosen.
Rather than his accordion, Hal Owens gripped a ukulele. She hoped he actually knew how to play it. No matter, though since the instrument seemed too exotic for small-town Wisconsin.
The twang of a steel guitar signaled to her. It was time for her to greet the community and thank them for coming out.
Oh, and her hula demonstration. Ugh!
Grabbing a mic from its stand, Bonnie smiled out at the crowd as she pushed a strand of gold hair behind her ear. There had to be at least two hundred people crowding the parking lot and lawn next to it.
She saw familiar faces and a sea of flowered shirts and muumuus. Even a few grass skirts like her own. Several people wore Santa hats, too. The mall’s dollar store was selling them.
Once again, her mother was right. The community wanted an excuse to come together and forget problems, at least for one evening.
Smiling broadly, Bonnie greeted them. “Aloha!”
Several repeated the word back to her before she continued. One small girl ran to the platform and handed up a red flower.
“For your hair,” the preschooler chimed out with a cheery smile. Bonnie thanked her, wistful for a baby of her own. What woman didn’t get the urge for a little one once she hit thirty!
The red blossom sat on her left ear now. Looking up, Bonnie spread her arms wide as if she’d hug the entire audience.
“Aloha can mean hello or goodbye. It means living in harmony with the people around you. What better word to describe our town getting together to celebrate Christmas a little early!”
People cheered and one of the musicians beat the drum behind her in agreement. Bonnie held up her hands, and the crowd quickly grew silent, allowing her to continue speaking.
“My mother, the bossy Rita Miller, commanded me to demonstrate a few hula moves. We’ll start with the ha’a.”
Bonnie returned the mic to its stand and lifted her hands palms up to encourage the audience. “So, please stand up and slightly bend your knees. This is how hula dances start.”
After most of the crowd performed the easy move, she changed to the next dance position. “Put your foot out at an angle. This is the hela. Good. I see many of you doing it.”
Bonnie grinned at the little girls standing near the band’s platform. They’re attempts were absolutely adorable! The Simpson twins always were as cute as could be. Right then, they stared up at her with concentration written on each face, trying not to fall as they put out toddler feet at an angle. Even busy with her demonstration, seeing those girls revved up Bonnie’s familiar longing for a husband and a baby.
No, she had her community and the restaurant. Bonnie couldn’t expect to be blessed with more than that in life.
Focusing again on the dance, she moved her hips. “Now for the ‘ami. Just basic hip rotation.” Members of the audience laughed good naturedly as they watched each other sway or rotate. Old or young, it didn’t matter. The move was unfamiliar to them and awkward.
They loved it! That was typical of the Oak Grove community. Being together brought joy. Trying new things created happiness. Why would anyone ever want to leave this place?
Behind her, the band played Aloha Oe, giving the people a tune so they could dance the hula. The wistful notes of the famous song brought smiles to many faces, Bonnie included.
She encouraged people to move their hands like waves of water while swaying their hips. More chuckles rippled through the crowd at their attempts. Nothing had to be perfect for this group to have fun.
Looking out over the sea of waving hands, Bonnie noticed one figure and almost froze. He didn’t dance. Instead, he stood straight and tall, but very still. Almost like a man in shock. And he stared at her with warm, compelling eyes.
Who was he? She didn’t remember meeting him and hadn’t heard of anyone moving into town. Not since the Grangers arrived the year before to take over the antique shop in the strip mall that sat at the edge of town.
Then, he moved. Looking from side to side, he spoke to people as he moved through the crowd. She guessed he was apologizing or asking for people to step aside so he could get through the tight knot of laughing dancers. Two old ladies were bumping hips and giggling, cutting off his approach. He stopped, waiting patiently for them, before they each pinched one of his cheeks and moved out of his way.
Bonnie grinned at his blush. It probably would have been less embarrassing if the women had pinched the cheeks on his face. But, no, they had to grab his….
She couldn’t think about it. Especially not when this man was coming her way.
Why did this man need to get to the platform? And why was she standing with her mouth open, waiting for him?
JT couldn’t remember being around so much silliness. At least, not since fraternity parties he attended while in UW Madison. He’d believe most of those in the crowd were drunk, except signs posted around them asked people not to drink during the luau. Also, he didn’t smell any alcohol. He would have if people were hammered.
No, this group wasn’t drunk. At least not on alcohol. They were charged to just be together, doing something fun. The day before, Ma mentioned the problem with the local factory thr
eatening layoffs. Must be folks needed to forget their trouble for a night.
More power to them. JT couldn’t care what they did as long as they moved out of his way so he could reach her.
She was gorgeous. And she was his statue come to life. Exactly the same, except she didn’t wear the skimpy bikini top. She had on a t-shirt with some business name on it.
What name had she said during her introduction? Beverly? No, that wasn’t right.
Two old women each pinched his butt. Since they were so familiar, he stopped to ask them about her.
“What’s the hula dancer’s name?”
One cackled a rough laugh. “There’s lots of hula dancers tonight, sweetie.”
He shook his head and worked to control his impatience. “You know. The one on the platform.”
The other woman smiled slyly. “Quite a beauty, isn’t she? That’s our Bonnie.”
The women moved off to an empty spot at the side of the crowd, bumping hips and giggling like teenagers. What they’d said hit the nail on the head. Bonnie was gorgeous. If he remembered it right, her name meant pretty.
She couldn’t be better named. Her ocean of blonde waves moved along with her as she taught the crowd to hula. He watched, entranced, as she giggled at the results as the people around him tried to rotate their hips.
Finally, he stood in front of her at the platform made from rough boards and plywood. Next to it on each side, a tiki torch burned next to a plastic palm tree. The setting looked very small-town like and perfect for her. This woman oozed the innocence of country-living, right down to her barely tanned skin. No visits to a tanning salon for this lady.
A man wearing a red and yellow Hawaiian shirt made eye-contact with him. The guy stopped strumming the ukulele and grinned. Leaning down, he winked in JT’s direction.
“Mrs. Claus said to expect you. Didn’t waste any time getting here, did you? We just started playing.”
JT knew his mouth gaped. He forced it shut before clearing his throat. What to say to that? How could anyone be expecting him?
Looking at the band leader, JT shrugged his shoulders. “Nah. Can’t be me since I decided at the last minute to come.”
Aloha My Love: Christmas in July Page 2