One Kiss for Christmas (The Happy Holidays Series Book 4)

by Michele Brouder

  “I’ll see, Dad,” Leah replied.

  More than anything, Jim would love for his only child to spend Christmas with him in Orchard Falls. Especially as he navigated the new adventure of retirement. When he’d first arrived in October, he’d been busy with the house: painting the interior, fixing a leak in the kitchen, and refinishing some of the hardwood floors. He could have hired someone to do the work but he’d needed something to do with all his free time. He’d pulled out the half-dead shrubs in front of the porch and replaced them with bulbs for the spring. But after almost six weeks, the inside and the outside of the house were where he wanted them to be. And now with the long winter looming ahead of him, he felt a restlessness beginning to take hold.

  “Were you thinking about going to your mother’s?” he asked, referring to his ex-wife, Carol. They’d divorced when Leah was four but had remained on somewhat friendly terms. She had not been interested in being a military wife. And he’d only been interested in his career in the military.

  “No, she and Pete are going to Florida for the holiday,” Leah answered.

  “And you don’t want to go with Mom and your stepdad?” he asked, pacing around the kitchen as he talked.

  “Ew, don’t call him that. He’s just Pete,” Leah protested. Jim could almost see her scrunching up her nose like she used to do when she was twelve.

  “But he is your stepfather,” Jim pointed out. He opened up a cupboard door, rooting around for a snack.

  “Yeah, but I’m too old to think of him that way,” Leah said.

  Jim remembered when he was in his twenties. He’d felt he could take on the world. He still felt that way, just maybe not as fast, or in smaller increments.

  “Come on, it’s Christmas, you should spend it with one of your parents,” Jim said. Finally deciding on pretzels, he pulled out a bag.

  “I’ll probably come to Orchard Falls,” she said. “I’d be interested in seeing your hometown.”

  “Good. What fence are you chaining yourself to this week?” he asked.

  “Dad!” she said, sounding bored. “Actually, we’re protesting at a cosmetics company. Animal testing and stuff, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he answered. And he did. Leah had loved animals since she was a little girl, and Carol had allowed her the usual bevy of pets: fish, hamsters, birds, cats, and dogs. And Leah had traveled with all her successive pets when spending her summers or holidays with Jim, which had thrilled him to no end. When Leah was thirteen, she announced she was going vegan, and he and Carol spent many a late night on the phone figuring out the best way to deal with it and make sure that at the same time, Leah ate a nutritious diet. Since then, his daughter had never wavered in her commitment to animals. He couldn’t help but admire that and feel that he and Carol had done something right by her, despite their divorce.

  “Just be careful,” Jim said, munching on a pretzel.

  “I will,” Leah said. “What are you eating?”

  “Pretzels.”

  “Can I bring the cats with me?”

  “Do I have a choice?” he asked. He wasn’t a big fan of cats. And her cats were weird.

  She laughed. “I’ve got to go, But I’ll let you know my plans as soon as I know them.”

  “Okay, Leah, talk soon,” he said and hung up.

  He walked back over to the sink and poured a glass of water from the tap. Donna exiting her house caught his eye. Of all the people in the world, he couldn’t believe he’d ended up living next door to Donna Van Dyke. After some discreet inquiries, he’d learned that she was now Donna St. James, a widow with one grown son. She’d never left Orchard Falls. Even back in high school, she’d never expressed any interest in leaving Orchard Falls, spreading her wings and seeing the world. She looked great. Like him, she’d aged, but her hair was still a beautiful shade of auburn and her eyes a clear, sharp green.

  The other day down at Gunderman’s had been unexpected and fun. Things hadn’t changed, and it made him both relieved and nostalgic. The shop had definitely not plowed their profit back into the store. And Sarge, the perennial employee, was still as cranky as ever. He was glad to see that Donna and Christine were still friends after all these years. He hoped she was enjoying that carton of candy cane ice cream; she owed him big-time.

  The fact that Donna lived next door certainly made things interesting. But he’d hardly seen her since that confrontation about cutting down her tree. And he preferred it that way. Donna St. James was a lot of things. But for him, she’d be forever labeled as the one who got away.

  The following morning, Jim went to the Main Street Diner for breakfast. A former trolley car, it had been converted to a restaurant that only did breakfast and lunch. There were small booths that seated up to four, and a Formica lunch counter in front lined with vinyl-padded stools. The place smelled of freshly brewed coffee, bacon, and frying onions. There were the usual sounds of clattering dishes and clinking spoons and the hum of conversation among the diners.

  Jim’s dad used to bring him in on Saturday mornings for a stack of pancakes. Not much had changed there, either. Christmas decorations of gold garland, lights, and red ornaments gave it a merry atmosphere. He stomped his boots on the winter mat, shaking the snow off of them, and scanned the area. From a back booth, he saw the hand of Steve Perez wave to him. With a nod, he headed back to join his old friend.

  Steve stood up from the booth and broke into a wide smile. “Jim! How’s it going?”

  “Good.”

  They each slid into a side of the booth. He and Steve had been good friends since grammar school. His friend’s dark eyes were the same, but his black hair had departed the top of his head, and what was left on the sides was now white. Although Jim had left the area almost three decades ago, they’d always kept in touch, usually via email and Christmas cards.

  Steve owned the optical place next door to the old cinema. When Jim had first retired, he’d reached out to Steve, expressing an interest in returning to Orchard Falls. His friend had been encouraging and had even introduced him to a real estate agent. Lately they’d been meeting every Monday morning for breakfast before Steve opened his optical office.

  “How’s retirement going?” Steve asked after they placed their orders.

  Jim shrugged, sighing. “It’s been an adjustment. I’m not used to doing nothing. And I’m not used to quiet, small-town life.”

  “Are you regretting moving back here?” Steve asked, sipping his coffee.

  “Not yet,” Jim said. He drank his coffee black. “When I left for college, I always felt that someday, I’d make my way back here. I always wanted to end back up in my hometown, but now I’m wondering if the place may be too sedate for me. It never is how you remember it, is it?” He paused and took a sip of his coffee.

  “I guess not.”

  “I’m going to give it some time and if it’s not for me, I’ll move someplace else, maybe closer to Leah, if she ever settles down.”

  “How old is she now?”

  “Just turned twenty-five. Training guide dogs for the blind. Animal-rights activist,” Jim said. “She might be visiting at Christmas. She’s also a dedicated vegan, so there’ll be no steaks for me while she’s here.”

  “Ouch,” Steve said with a laugh.

  “How are Lynn and the kids?” Jim asked.

  “Fine. Actually, Kyle is thinking of joining one of the branches of the service after graduation and I was wondering if you would talk to him,” Steve said.

  “Not a problem. Stop over any time,” Jim said.

  The server interrupted them, setting their breakfasts down in front of them. Jim had a stack of pancakes and a side plate of bacon, crisp.

  Jim covered his stack with butter and maple syrup and after the first bite said, “Donna Van Dyke is my next-door neighbor.”

  Steve’s fork paused midair and he asked, “Who? What?”

  “Donna Van Dyke . . . er . . . Donna St. James.”

  Steve’s eyes widened. “No,
really?” He processed the idea and added with a raised eyebrow, “That should be interesting.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “Any chance you two might get back together?” Steve asked.

  Without hesitation, Jim replied, “Oh no, that’s in the past.”

  Steve shook his head and laughed. “You living next door to Donna. Now that’s hilarious.”

  “I’m sure she thinks so too,” Jim said. He wondered what she thought about it. Actually, he wasn’t sure what he thought about it himself. Of all the houses he could buy in the world, he’d gone and bought the one next to his favorite old flame.

  “When we were in high school, everyone—and I mean everyone—thought you two would definitely end up together,” Steve said. “It was like a sure thing.”

  “Yeah, that’s what we thought as well,” Jim said.

  He and Donna had dated the last two years of high school and through college. But there’d been that little thing about him going away to college and then off to serve in Iraq back in ’91. The relationship had derailed that Christmas, before the start of Desert Storm.

  Steve turned the subject to sports, namely football and hockey, and Jim went along with him, but thoughts of Donna lingered at the back of his mind, along with the question of what might have been.

  As Christine had mentioned, Jim spotted a notice in the Orchard Falls Gazette about a committee meeting for the Snowball Festival. In an effort to keep boredom at bay, he figured he might as well go and see what was going on. It was scheduled for seven in the community center. He wondered if Donna would be there. He thought briefly of asking her to drive with him, but then thought better of it. Since he’d moved in, he’d hardly seen her. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was deliberate on her part.

  Jim was used to being busy. He wasn’t keen to end up as a channel surfer on the sofa. You sit, you die, was his motto. And no matter where he’d lived, whether in the US or abroad, he’d always gotten involved in the local community. It had been important for him to give Leah a sense of community that extended past the military families.

  The Orchard Falls Community Center was located between the village hall and the fire department. He parked his SUV in the lot behind the building. As he headed around to the front, he noticed Donna walking ahead of him, treading carefully over the light dusting of snow covering the sidewalk. Even after all these years, he knew the sight of her, the shape of her. The way she walked. It was something that had been ingrained in his mind when he was a teenager.

  She wore a knit hat pulled down over her head with only wisps of her auburn hair peeking out. She wore a plum-colored ski jacket and a pair of jeans.

  Jim followed her inside, wondering if there would ever be closure to what had transpired between them all those years ago. He felt he at least deserved an explanation for what had happened. Or more specifically, what hadn’t happened.

  The community center was packed and this surprised him. He immediately recognized Steve and waved. There were only a few empty seats left and he had no choice but to sit down next to Donna with a nod and a smile. He saw Sarge, Ralph, and Christine in the row ahead of them but didn’t immediately recognize anyone else.

  A tall woman with a sharp, blunt-angled cut of blonde hair took the stage. She wore a Christmas sweater with a pair of jeans.

  Jim leaned forward in his chair and narrowed his eyes at the familiar face on stage.

  “Is that Mary Ellen Schumacher?” he whispered to Donna, leaning closer to make himself heard. He could smell her perfume, something nice and soft.

  “It is,” Donna replied, not looking at him. Mary Ellen Schumacher had been the head cheerleader in high school, the all-around student: great grades and active in a lot of after-school clubs.

  “What’s she doing now?” he asked.

  “She has a dental practice here in town,” Donna said.

  “Good for her,” Jim said. “She looks like a dentist.”

  Donna turned to face him, leveling her gaze at him. “What does a dentist look like?”

  Jim shrugged. Why did she have the power, after all this time, to discombobulate him and have him tripping over his words? “I don’t know. Like someone you trust to put their hands into your mouth?”

  Donna snorted, which made Jim laugh, but she quickly recovered and her mask of indifference fell back into place.

  “Did she ever get married?” he asked, curious.

  Donna shook her head. “No, probably too busy with all the clubs and meetings she runs.”

  Mary Ellen stepped up to the podium and adjusted the mic.

  “Just like high school,” Jim added.

  “Shh,” Donna said.

  Mary Ellen called the meeting to order with a smile. “It’s great to see such a large turnout. Let’s make this our best Snowball Festival ever!” she said, rallying the crowd.

  Once the clapping and hooting settled down, she said, “As most of you know, I’m in charge of the overall festival, which takes place the weekend before Christmas. We’ll follow the same schedule as we have for years. On Friday, we’ll kick off with outdoor activities like ice skating and outdoor hockey and end the night with toboggan races. Saturday is the craft fair, and we have the grade-school coloring contest. Saturday evening is the talent show and of course, Sunday evening is the dance. There are the usual committees: entertainment, outdoor activities, decorations, safety and many more.” Her gaze swept the room and she added, “It looks like we’ll have plenty of people.”

  Jim glanced around the meeting room, noting some familiar faces from his past. Like him, they’d either gotten grayer or heavier.

  “Okay, can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Mary Ellen said. There was a still a buzz coursing through the room, and people kept talking. Mary Ellen laughed and raised her voice. “Hey, listen up! Let’s get started here.”

  In front of Jim, Sarge muttered. “Yeah, let’s get started. Let’s not make this our life’s work.”

  “All right, we need to start by selecting the head of each committee. From there I’ll assign volunteers.”

  There were a couple of coughs and whispers tittering through the crowd.

  “First we need someone to oversee the outside activities committee,” Mary Ellen said, glancing around the room. “This person will be in charge of overseeing any activity that happens outside, like ice skating and toboggan races. Any volunteers?”

  Jim looked around the room and thought this might be something he could do. Tentatively, he raised his hand. Donna looked in his direction but said nothing, and he shrugged.

  Mary Ellen’s gaze moved to Jim’s raised hand but passed right by him. She turned her attention to Steve.

  “Steve, do you think you can handle this?”

  “I didn’t have my hand raised,” Steve protested.

  “That’s great then, thanks Steve,” Mary Ellen said, ignoring his objection. She glanced back at Jim and said to Steve, “I’m sure you’ll have no problem getting help.”

  Jim sat back in his folding wooden chair and sighed. He heard a twitter from Donna.

  “Next is the safety committee. This is just what it sounds like: making sure all the roads for the festival are salted, organizing first-aid facilities, fire extinguishers, coordinating with local emergency services, etc., etc. Any volunteers?”

  Again, Jim’s hand was the first one up. Mary Ellen looked at him, but her eyes eventually landed on Ray Malinowski, Chief of Police. “Okay, Ray, this one’s yours.”

  “A busman’s holiday,” joked the chief, and everyone laughed.

  Jim wondered why he was being ignored. He’d never thought of Orchard Falls as a closed community. Maybe he’d been gone too long and was now viewed as an outsider.

  Mary Ellen assigned the decorations committee to Donna. She then asked for volunteers for the various committees. Jim refrained from volunteering. For Donna’s committee, Mary Ellen immediately picked Sarge and Christine when they raised their hands. Loo
king around the community center, she asked, “Can we have some men for a change, as well?”

  Sarge elbowed her husband, Ralph, who tentatively raised his hand.

  “Thanks, Ralph, that’s great. One more fella. Come on, guys,” Mary Ellen pleaded with a laugh.

  Jim did not raise his hand. He had nothing against decorations, but he had no interest in working side by side with Donna.

  “What about you there?” Mary Ellen said into her mic.

  Jim pretended he didn’t see her staring straight at him. He lowered his head.

  “The guy sitting next to Donna,” Mary Ellen clarified.

  Jim’s head shot up. “Me?” he mouthed.

  Mary Ellen laughed. “Yes, you. What’s your name?”

  “Jim O’Hara,” he said quietly.

  There was a murmuring in the crowd as heads turned toward him. Beside him, Donna lowered her head and coughed.

  “Big Jim?” Mary Ellen asked, her face breaking into a smile of recognition. “Why didn’t you say so? I had no idea who you were earlier.”

  Jim gave her a hapless smile.

  “Consider yourself chosen for Donna’s committee,” she said with a grin.

  Before he could protest, Mary Ellen moved on to the next order of business.

  After the meeting, nearly everyone lingered at the back of the hall over coffee, tea, and Christmas cookies. A lot of people approached Jim, welcoming him back to Orchard Falls.

  As he reminisced with people, he was aware of Donna on the periphery, sipping a cup of coffee. When he was finally alone, he skipped another cup of coffee, because he didn’t want to be up all night. But he did help himself to another Christmas cookie.

  Donna approached him.

  “Look, Jim, you don’t have to be on the committee,” she started. “I’m sure we’ll manage without you.” Her expression was unreadable.

  Something about her dismissive tone rankled him, and suddenly there wasn’t anything more he wanted to do than decorate, a pastime he usually didn’t cherish. “I’d like to join you on the decorations committee,” he said.