Nantucket White Christmas
Pamela M. Kelley
Piping Plover Press
Copyright © 2019 by Pamela M. Kelley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Born on Christmas, Angela Stark has always hated the holiday. Bad things always seem to happen and this year is no exception when she is fired and evicted on the first day of December.
She was living and working as a maid in San Francisco. Who will hire her at this time of year, especially if they learn why she was fired?
Her only family is Sam, an elderly, and quite vocal orange cat. Her only option is to stay temporarily with her best friend Jane, but she is extremely allergic to cats. It’s not ideal, but it doesn’t look like she has a choice, until a certified letter arrives that changes everything.
The next thing she knows, she and Sam are flying to Nantucket, a place they’ve never been before.
It’s meant to be a temporary visit. But then Angela meets the Hodges family and friends and begins to question where home really is.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Excerpt of TRUST
1
Grandma got run over by a reindeer…”
The cheerful Christmas carol blasted through the ancient speakers of Angela Stark’s tired old Saturn sedan. She changed the channel as quickly as possible. It was annoying that her favorite station started playing nothing but Christmas music as soon as Thanksgiving rolled around. She’d already suffered through a week of it and it was only December first.
Angela felt positively Scrooge-like as she sat in the San Francisco morning rush hour traffic. She hated this time of year. It was bad enough that her birthday fell on Christmas itself. Growing up as an orphan and bouncing from one foster home to the next, her birthday usually got lost in the shuffle. Nothing good ever seemed to happen around the holidays. For as long as she could recall, her memories of the time of year were not happy ones, beginning with her mother overdosing on Christmas Eve when Angela was barely five years old.
It had just been the two of them, and Chrissy had never been the motherly type. She was sweet enough, child-like almost when she was sober, but that wasn’t often. Chrissy was a junkie, addicted to heroin and even as a child, Angela knew that wasn’t a good thing. She still remembered the day that she found her mother, and the vivid image of her seemingly asleep on the sofa, holding a half-eaten candy-cane. Angela had tried her best to wake her, but Chrissy was gone.
And since there was no other known family, little Angela went into foster care. As soon as she was eighteen, she moved into an apartment with several friends. She was working by then, hostessing at a local restaurant. There was no money for college, but she’d done well enough in school to get a small scholarship which helped to pay for some classes at the local community college. Eventually, though, she’d had to drop to part-time and started working full-time as a maid for a cleaning company.
Now, at age twenty-eight, she only had two classes left for her Bachelor’s Degree in Business. Once she graduated, she planned to get a job in marketing at one of the many software companies in Silicon Valley. She’d tried a few times to get something entry-level over the years, but every company seemed to want a college degree.
So, for now, cleaning other people’s houses paid the bills, or at least it had until her roommate skipped out on her. Because of Susie’s disappearing act, Angela was almost three months behind on half the rent. But she had someone lined up to move in tomorrow and her first and last month’s deposit should catch her up. Angela knew she was supposed to set it aside in a separate account, but she figured she could do that in a few months and all would be well. Of the people that answered her ad, Kim was the person who seemed the most stable and could move in the quickest. Robert Smith, the building’s property manager, had been calling daily looking for money that Angela didn’t have. But she would have it soon enough, hopefully.
And truth be told, Angela didn’t mind cleaning. She was good at it, and she found it relaxing and satisfying to leave a home spotless. She had a busy day ahead of her, with several large homes she cleaned regularly. The first on her list was for one of her least favorite clients. The house was gorgeous, but the owner was annoying and her teenage daughter was an absolute slob. Usually, they weren’t there when Angela cleaned but today mother and daughter were both home when Angela arrived and the mother was screaming upstairs to her daughter to hurry up.
“We have mani-pedi appointments and if she doesn’t get down here we’re going to be late,” Mrs. Davis explained. “Julia, now!”
Two minutes later, a sullen, skinny, sixteen-year-old with long purple streaks in her dark brown hair came trudging down the stairs with a backpack slung over one shoulder. She glanced at Angela and several emotions flashed across her face—surprise, followed by what looked like guilt, which quickly morphed into annoyance as her mother told her to hurry again.
“I’ll take my own car,” Julia said. “I’m going to meet up with Stacy later.”
“Now you tell me. I could have already left.” Mrs. Davis sighed and turned back to Angela. “Be sure to scrub the bathtub in the guest bathroom. We have company coming.”
“Will do.” Angela felt like adding that she always scrubbed it, but bit her tongue. She just wanted them to leave so she could blast her music and focus on cleaning.
When she was finished with her last house, at a little past four, Angela walked into the cleaning company headquarters to drop off her keys. She picked them up for each home in the morning and returned them at the end of the day. She’d worked for Happy Cleaners for over four years and was one of their longest tenured employees.
The owner of the company, Nora Feeney, was a skinny, chain-smoking bundle of nerves. Everything seemed to agitate her, but Angela was used to it and just smiled when she walked into the office. No one smiled back today, though. Instead, Nora, her husband Tom, and the receptionist, Mary, all looked uncomfortable when they saw Angela. There was a definite chill in the air.
With a sense of foreboding, Angela walked over to the wall where the keys were hung and put her three in their spots. When she turned around, Mary was staring at her computer and Tom had left the room. Nora hadn’t moved and was standing with her bony arms crossed over her chest.
“Angela, could you step into my office for a moment, please?”
“Of course.” Angela followed her boss into her office and stood, waiting for Nora to speak.
“This is a bit awkward,” Nora began. “I’ve never actually had this situation happen before and it’s unfortunate as you’ve been a good, consistent cleaner for us. But, we don’t really have a choice, I’m afraid.”
Angela had no idea what Nora was talking about, but shivered as a chill ran down her spine. She said nothing, and waited for Nora to explain.
“I had a call from Mrs. Davis. You cleaned her place this morning?”
Angela nodded. “I did. They were first on my list. I saw her and her daughter briefly, before they headed out.”
“Yes, well, Mrs. Davis called this afternoon and she wasn’t happy with us at all. Or more specifically, with you.”
Angela narrowed her eyes, feeling irritated at the annoying woman. What was it this time? She’d scrubbed that guest bathtub until it gleamed. “What was she upset about?”
“She said her diamond tennis bracelet is missing. It was on her nightstand when she left and when she got home, it was gone. The only other person in the house was you. They have an alarm system and cameras that noted everyone who came and went and it was only you.”
Angela’s jaw dropped. “Are you saying she’s accusing me of taking her bracelet? I didn’t touch it and I never even saw it on her nightstand.” She thought for a moment and it didn’t take her long to figure out where the bracelet went. The guilty look on Julia Davis’s face as she came down the stairs—either Mrs. Davis was mistaken about where she put her bracelet or her daughter lifted it before she walked out.
“She can’t prove anything of course, but she is insisting that we fire you. She said if we don’t, she’ll stop using us and will tell everyone she has referred to stop using us, too.” Nora looked miserable as she said it and Angela almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
“She’s furious and we simply can’t afford to lose that much business. I’m so sorry, Angela. If anything changes, and we’re able to rehire you, I’ll be in touch. I really do hope that is the case.”
Angela nodded. “I understand. When you tell her that you’ve let me go, you might want to also tell her to ask her daughter Julia if she’s seen the bracelet.”
“I will, and again, Angela, I’m so sorry.”
Angela drove home in a daze and didn’t realize until she pulled up to her condo and grabbed her phone and purse that she had a new text message. It was from Kim, the roommate who was supposed to move in the next day.
“Angela, I’m so sorry to do this last minute, but I’m not going to be able to move in with you after all. My boyfriend proposed last night and asked me to move in with him instead. I hope you understand and again, I’m so sorry. Could you please just rip up the check I gave you? Thank you!”
Angela laughed before she almost started to cry. Could her day possibly get any worse?
As it turned out, it could.
She wasn’t home ten minutes before there was a knock on the door and her heart sank as she opened it. She didn’t have to guess who it was. Only one person would be knocking on her door. Sure enough, Robert Smith, the property manager, stood there with his thinning hair and permanent scowl.
“Hi, Angela. I hope you’ve got something for me today? It’s the last day for you to bring your account current.”
Angela took a deep breath and willed the tears to stay down. Crying wasn’t going to help.
“I thought that I’d have a check for you today, but my new roommate changed her mind. So, I have to turn the ad on again. I need a little more time, please.”
Robert Smith actually looked disappointed as he shook his head and reached into the rumpled manila folder that was tucked under his arm. He pulled out a typed letter and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” Angela asked as she glanced at the letter. The words grew blurry as the first tears fell.
“I’m sorry, Angela. I gave you all the time that I could. That’s your official eviction notice. You have two weeks to pack up and get out.”
Angela just nodded. She’d had several extensions already and he had warned that eviction would be the next step. But she’d thought she would be able to avoid it with the new roommate moving in.
“I understand.”
“Good luck, Angela.” He walked off as Angela closed the door behind her. Her day had gone from bad to horrific and she had no idea what to do next.
2
At least you still love me.” Angela scooped up Sam, her twelve-year-old orange cat who’d been rubbing against her legs and meowing since she walked in the door. When she held him close to her, he butted his head against her chin until she scratched it the way he liked. He allowed her to hold him for another minute before he wiggled to get down and ran over to his food bowl. Once he was fed and full, he joined her on the sofa where she had collapsed and was gloomily scrolling through the help-wanted job listings on her laptop.
Angela was starting to get scared. She only had one week until she had to move out and she wasn’t having any luck even getting an interview, let alone a job offer. She’d known it would be hard, but thought she’d get at least one call. She even visited a few temporary agencies and said she’d be willing to take anything they had. But since she’d just been cleaning houses for the past few years, she didn’t have any office experience and that’s what most of their clients looked for. They all promised to call if anything came in, but in the next breath warned her not to get her hopes up as it was also the slowest time of the year.
She applied for unemployment, but that wouldn’t kick in for another few weeks. Her best friend, Jane, insisted that she come to stay with her until she could get back on her feet and save enough to get a new place. Angela and Sam had lived with Jane for several years, before she moved in with her boyfriend and realized she had a terrible allergy to cats. All her symptoms disappeared once she’d moved out so Angela felt guilty now about bringing Sam, but there was no way she was going anywhere without him. Sam was her only family. She was grateful for Jane’s offer, though, and reluctantly accepted as she had no other choice.
“It will be fun! And we have plenty of room, with a guest bedroom that never gets used. It will be almost like old times.” Jane seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the idea.
“I’ll pay for the allergy meds!” Angela insisted.
“Don’t be silly. I take them anyway. I’m allergic to more than cats. And I like Sam.”
So, it was decided. To raise money, Angela had a huge moving sale over the weekend and sold everything that she could, including her bed, TV and sofa, though she’d arranged for those items to be picked up on her move out day. When she found a new place, she’d really be starting over, but she had no other choice. She couldn’t afford to move everything and pay to have it stored. She’d have to look for a furnished situation, maybe a room in an existing apartment, something pet-friendly.
Three days before she was due to move in with Jane, Angela was sprawled on the sofa again with Sam behind her, peering down at her laptop while she applied for job after job. A knock on the door surprised and irritated her. She was comfy and didn’t want to get up, and she figured it was someone knocking on the wrong door because she wasn’t expecting anyone.
A peek through the window showed it was Al, the mailman. She opened the door and he held out a certified envelope.
“Hi, Angela. I need your signature here.”
“What is that?” She’d never received anything by certified mail before.
“No idea, honey. I just deliver it.”
She scribbled her signature and glanced at the return address. It was a law firm on Beacon Street, in Boston. She didn’t know anyone in Boston and had never even been to the East Coast.
“Thanks, Al.” She closed the door and brought the letter over to the sofa where Sam was busy stretching and looking cute. She sat and slowly opened the envelope. She had the sense that it was something important or it wouldn’t have come by certified mail, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be. She slid out a thick, creamy sheet of letterhead, unfolded it and read the letter three times and then once again, because it still didn’t make sense.
Dear Angela,
I am writing to inform you that your grandmother, Estelle Stark, has recently died and you are the sole beneficiary for her estate which includes her residence on Nantucket, her vehicle, and a local bank account. Should you wish to sell the home, Estelle had mentioned that it does need some repairs. There should be enough in the account to cover those repair
s and other living expenses for several months. Please call me at your earliest convenience so I can arrange to send you the keys to the home and give you the banking details.
Very truly yours,
Warren Higgins, Esq.
* * *
When Angela was able to stop shaking long enough to punch in the phone number for the Boston law office, she called Warren Higgins and waited, feeling sure that there must have been some mistake. How could she have inherited a house from a woman she never knew? And if she really had a grandmother, why hadn’t she reached out to her while she was alive? Especially after Chrissy died, when she really needed her?
Warren was in a meeting, but his receptionist promised to have him call back as soon as he was free. Angela didn’t expect that she’d hear from him for a while, but ten minutes later her phone rang and it was him.
#
“I’m sure there must be a mistake,” she began when Warren introduced himself.
“I can assure you that there is no mistake. Your mother was Chrissy, right?” he asked kindly.
“Yes, but why am I just hearing about her now? Why did my grandmother never contact me before?”
Warren sighed. “She never knew about you until just before she died and it broke her heart. She found out accidentally, through one of those ancestry kits. Her best friend told her to check the box to see if she had any living relatives. It was a bet of sorts, because she was certain that she did not.”
“A DNA kit? Jane and I did one of those a few years ago.” Angela remembered that Jane had talked her into it and it was through an online Cyber Monday sale. “I was mostly curious to see if I really was part Irish. My mother used to say that I was black Irish, because of my dark hair, light skin and green eyes.”
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