The Christmas Kiss

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The Christmas Kiss Page 11

by Virginia McCullough


  He silently filled in the blank implied in her pause. New man. She couldn’t say it out loud.

  “I’m looking for the right job. It’s different.”

  “I get it, Jackie. All three of us are still adjusting. But somehow Nic has ended up feeling sorry for you. That’s not right.”

  “Oh, that will pass,” Jackie said, with an air of nonchalance. “She spent months feeling sorry for you.”

  He couldn’t deny some truth in that. As much as he’d tried to avoid it, when Jackie first left, Nic dragged him into some gloomy pity parties. “That’s all over now. I don’t want Nic taking on round two by being overly concerned about you. And for what?”

  “For nothing,” she said, her voice softening. “It’s none of your concern if I’m happy here or not.”

  “Absolutely. But make up your mind if you want Nic with you. Yes, no, or when.”

  Her heavy sigh came through the phone. “Oh, Parker.”

  “If you’re unhappy, then in Nic’s fantasy world, you’ll pack up your stuff and find a place to live closer to Neville. You’ll get a job and she can go back and forth between the two of us.” He scoffed. “Until she’s ready to break free and make her own plans. For all we know, move half a world away if that’s where life takes her.”

  “My, my, so philosophical this early in the morning?”

  “Realistic.” Through the window he saw Emma’s car nose into the lot. “I have to open up here. Think about what I said. And please, watch your words. Our daughter takes them to heart.”

  “I will, Parker, I will.”

  He ended the call. Knowing Jackie, she’d grumble about what he’d said, but in the end, she’d put Nicole first. He had that much faith her better judgment would make a comeback. Even when things had become strained between them, or even worse, indifferent, they united around Nicole.

  Parker opened the office door and stepped out into the chilly air and started toward Emma as she approached him walking faster than usual. “Good to see you,” he called out.

  Emma sent him a sheepish smile. “I’m on a mission.”

  “Oh? Well, I guess I am, too. I just hope people show up on this gray day.”

  Standing in front of him she turned to look at the lake and took in a long breath. “No, I’m serious. More than anything, I’m here to apologize. I was so out of line.”

  He waved her off. “No, we settled it. Don’t give it another thought.” He was being conciliatory, wasn’t he?

  “It wasn’t nothing. The truth is I was in pain.”

  And in danger, Parker thought. He’d been keeping her from getting hurt. Speaking of, he had a case of hurt feelings. He liked her. Maybe too much.

  “Okay, Mr. Boss Man. Tell me what you want me to do. What’s up your sleeve?”

  Cancel the open house and offer her one of her favorite jelly donuts with a cup of hot coffee? Spend time with the owl and show Emma how to check the gash behind the bird’s ear? Put his arms around Emma and hold her for a good long time?

  Parker cleared his throat. “Okay, why don’t we finish setting up for our guests?”

  * * *

  EMMA POURED WATER into the urn and flipped the switch to start brewing the coffee. The weekend wasn’t supposed to go this way. No one planned to offer coffee and brownies, not when the point was to get people out walking the boardwalk through the woods, hanging out at the pier, watching the slideshow in the office and going away with brochures and invitations to the official launch on Christmas Eve.

  She stared out the picture window blurred by the rain whose steady beat was broken by gusts of wind. After expected poor attendance on Friday, cold rain on Saturday that kept all but a hardy few home, Emma decided they had to do something to make the visitors on a stormy Sunday think it was worth coming out. She came up with the idea of bringing her large coffee urn and paper cups. She enlisted Nicole to get brownies and butterscotch bars. If the people couldn’t wander around and take in the beauty, they could chat with Parker. They could watch the slideshow and listen to Ty and Stacey explain future projects in the warmth of the office.

  “Good idea, Parker,” she overheard Stacey say as she opened a new package of paper cups.

  “Emma thought of it.”

  “I knew there’d come a time I’d need to brew thirty-six cups of coffee in that pot that’s been in my basement forever,” Emma said, glancing at Parker, looking every bit the director in his forest green jacket, with Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary & Nature Center stitched across the back.

  “A lot more PR is going out for Christmas Eve,” Ty said. “This was an experiment that didn’t work so well.”

  Emma was glad to hear him admit this was not the best idea.

  When the door opened and a man and two kids entered, Parker stepped forward to greet them. “As you can see the weather hasn’t been kind to our open house, but please, come on in. Our slideshow is ready to go and we can all answer your questions.”

  “We thought we’d come to walk in the woods and see some birds,” the man said, patting the heads of the little kids flanking him, “but I warned them not to count on it.”

  “If you come with me I’ll show you a picture of an eagle sitting up in the tree.” Parker pointed out the window at the giant oak in front of the parking lot. “He was sitting right up there. Come on over. Have a look.”

  The kids followed him to the alcove, where he started the slideshow. “It’s about ten pictures in so we’ll come to it. You can see the pictures of the geese and the ducks that like it here at Hidden Lake.”

  “Can we go see ’em?” the girl asked.

  “When it stops raining, Caitlin,” her dad said.

  “When it’s dry, you can walk out to the lookout. A lot of geese stopped here on their way to warmer places, but some hang out here all winter. You might see some cardinals and little birds like nuthatches, or bigger ones like crows.”

  Emma smiled when Parker cut his eyes to her. “You might even see an owl, although they like nighttime better.”

  As the photos changed, Parker explained what the kids were seeing and stopped on the one of the eagle.

  “Wow, he’s big,” the boy said.

  The dad stood behind the kids, amused by their curiosity. Emma tapped his arm and pointed to the urn, where he could serve himself.

  “Will you be running classes for kids?”

  “I believe so, at least, eventually.” Emma pointed to Stacey and Ty. “They’re the ones to ask about the current schedule for school trips and classes.”

  “My son finished a nature diorama, and now he wants to do more of that kind of thing. I wouldn’t mind bringing him here.”

  Emma nodded. “The center’s dioramas will be on display soon. Your son might want to see those. I’m only a volunteer, but I’ll mention to the board that arts and crafts classes for kids might be a good idea.”

  She noticed Stacey and Ty listening to Parker’s interaction with the kids. He was good at it. He’d moved them to the map showing the future plans for the sanctuary. Emma heard the energy in his voice when he told the kids about plans to rescue birds and take care of them.

  “My two will think that’s a pretty cool idea,” the man said, introducing himself as Evan. “I’ve been following what’s going on here. I’m impressed.”

  Good news for the sanctuary. “I hope you’ll join us on Christmas Eve when we relaunch this as an expanded sanctuary and nature center.”

  The sound of the bell on the door gave Emma a lift. An older couple came and put their dripping umbrellas in the corner. Emma directed them to coffee. They helped themselves and took their cups closer to Parker and listened in. Suddenly, it seemed almost busy. And pleasant, Emma thought, with people clustered in the warm, dry office. With the fresh paint and brand new shelves, the counter rearranged, and the alcove set up for the slideshow, only traces of
the old Hidden Lake Resort remained.

  The trickle of visitors lasted through the afternoon. With Ty and Stacey there, and Nicole in and out, Emma was aware she wasn’t especially needed, but she had no desire to leave. She had to laugh at herself. For someone who claimed to have no particular role in this venture, other than underwriting it, she sure hung around a lot. But she hoped to see the owl before she called it a day.

  “That’s a beautiful walking stick,” an older man said, pointing his own rubber-tipped metal cane. “Do you sell them here? Or those posters on the wall.”

  “No to the canes, but I can give you a poster with a membership or sell you one. I imagine we’ll eventually have a gift shop here. And I can show you where I bought the cane.” Emma grabbed her phone and brought up the gallery on the screen. “Right over in Clayton.”

  Nicole, who had come in and chatted up the dad with the kids, came closer. “It would be fun to have him down on the pier doing his carving, wouldn’t it? You know, a craft demonstration.”

  “The girl’s a genius,” Stacey said, making Nicole blush and everyone else laugh.

  “You’re all just getting started,” the man said, nodding to Parker, who was talking with a young guy who’d just come in.

  “Looks that way,” Emma said, suddenly captured by the image of the wood carver on the pier. And a local science teacher—or Parker—doing nature projects with the kids. An art teacher doing crafts. And a gift shop? Wow.

  “I’m glad it’s coming to life. That’s one reason why we came today,” another woman said.

  Emma moved aside as the visitors talked to each other and another person came in to fill out a membership form.

  It was four o’clock when the last visitor had gone, but the wind and rain kept up. Nicole cleaned up the office and offered to load the urn and leftovers into Emma’s car.

  “Why don’t we store that here? It’s been gathering dust for years. It might come in handy here another time.”

  Nicole started to respond, but the conversation going on between Parker, Stacy, and Ty was impossible to ignore.

  “It wasn’t what we hoped,” Ty said.

  “A total of sixteen memberships over three days,” Stacey added.

  Parker threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “We can’t special order the weather.” He gestured behind him at the alcove. “You saw me explaining the concept and talking about the future. You were mingling with the people who did show up. Whether they joined today isn’t the critical issue. We’ve introduced them to the center. And I sure wouldn’t count Friday in your evaluation. We already knew that was doomed to be a pretty slow day.”

  Emma winced at his harsh tone. Yes, Parker, this event was critical to the people using conservancy funds for what turned out to be a bust of a weekend. He could say he told them so, but what did that buy him? Apparently, Nicole wondered the same thing, because she stared at her dad wide-eyed, her eyebrows almost saying hello to her hairline.

  “I still think it was an idea worth trying,” Stacey insisted. “Keeps us in the news.”

  “I don’t mean to be critical, but the TV cameras were here yesterday and the story wasn’t the sanctuary, it was the weather ruining the weekend open house.” Parker paused. “I’m not trying to do your job. But resources are limited and you want to make the most of them.”

  She gave him a D on the first point, a solid B on the second. They didn’t need to be told their spot on the Clayton evening news was more or less wasted.

  “On the upside, the people who stopped by this afternoon are potential volunteers,” Parker said. “They came with ideas. Someone mentioned a gift shop, art classes and...”

  “Like I said, craft demonstrations on the pier, Dad,” Nicole interjected.

  Parker smiled for the first time, and it was clear his change in expression was directed only at her. “Or, right here in the alcove this winter on a Saturday afternoon.”

  Stacey groaned. “Gift shops take so much time.”

  Parker’s mouth twitched as if he might laugh.

  “That’s why we have volunteers,” Ty said.

  In a more diplomatic tone, Parker said, “You’re starting from scratch and all this takes a lot of effort. I’d take away what you can from it and then let it go.” He paused. “I know that’s easy for me to say.”

  Emma found reasons to stay, but she didn’t fool Parker. As soon as Stacey and Ty left, he said, “Hanging around for any particular reason?”

  “As if you didn’t know.”

  “Is this about the owl?” Nic asked.

  “We’re going to go visit. Wanna come with?”

  “No, Mom texted. I think I’ll call her back.” She waved her phone at Parker and added, “Nothing serious.” She left and broke into a run.

  Emma slipped into her raincoat. Something always seemed to be going on with Nicole and her mother and even the mild tension could instantly change the atmosphere in the room. Like now.

  “Let’s go,” Parker said, pulling up the hood of his jacket. He opened the door and Nic dashed out first and ran to her cabin in the steady rain.

  “You can run ahead and save yourself,” Emma said. “I’ll only slow you down.”

  “Not a chance.” Parker’s face brightened. “Look in the corner. Someone left an umbrella. For us.”

  “It’s official,” Emma said. “The place is open and you have the first item for your lost and found box.”

  Parker laughed. “Never thought of that. Stacey and Ty will be pleased.”

  “I remember who the umbrella belongs to. Don’t know her name, though. Maybe she’ll be back.”

  “Probably not today.” Parker closed the door behind them and opened the umbrella and covered them both, but mostly Emma. He put his arm around her shoulder to keep her balanced as she moved. She didn’t argue.

  When they got to the treatment building, the owl hooted.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s owl language for ‘get me outta here,’” Parker joked.

  When he took the cover off, the owl was on the perch. Calm, but strong. One eye looked smaller than the other, but that likely wouldn’t change because of the scar tissue. She stayed still, as if observing them when they sat on a bench across from her large pen.

  At the risk of opening a touchy conversation, she said, “You were so good with the visitors today. The little kids are your new best friends and their dad said he’d been following what we’re doing.”

  “That part was fine. Having the snacks there kept people around and engaged. Great idea,” Parker said. “My old days in nature centers kicked in and I dusted off my bantering skills.”

  “Your attitude and energy for the birds and the woods is infectious. It’s one of your strengths.” She nudged his shoulder. “Look what it’s done to me. Turned me into a bird freak, as Nic would say.”

  “Another notch in my nature lover’s belt,” Parker said. “On a more serious note, I didn’t mean to be hard on Stacey and Ty.”

  Stay out of it. “I guess all the attention is on Christmas Eve now.”

  Parker nodded. “And the Santa visit. I told Mike I’d help out. Then my mom arrives. Nic is looking forward to that. Then we have the fair at Neville.” He frowned. “That should take her mind off Jackie.”

  “I imagine grandma visits are always fun for her.”

  “Next you’ll start talking about the color of the owl’s eyes,” Parker teased. “Anything not to get entangled in the board business or what goes on between Nic and her mom.”

  “Haven’t I intruded enough? I’m trying to be on my best behavior.”

  “Oh, no, don’t do that,” Parker said. “I like your curious side.” He nodded at the owl. “Like how you are with her.”

  Emma gestured to the owl. “Well, she’s part of my new life.”

  “Meaning?”

&nb
sp; She scanned this makeshift clinic. “Being here, working with even this one bird. It’s my something more, Parker.”

  His smile came slowly and wasn’t entirely readable, but the look in his eyes told her he understood.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  PARKER MOVED A couple of hawks’ nests from the cardboard box and put them on a glass shelf inside a display case. He put an old label in front of it for identification until he could mount the remade descriptions of the variety of nests they’d display.

  The cases were old, but cleaned up and fit the look of the wooden cabin. The Riveras had brought a crew to haul away the ancient gas stove and rusting refrigerator. They’d ripped out the kitchen cabinets that had warped with age. The building had fresh drywall, but the wooden floors had been refurbished. A table was pushed against the other wall, where a model of the sanctuary was underway.

  The sound of his name was faint at first, but it was a man’s voice that was louder with each repetition—and more frantic. Parker got down from the ladder and went outside. A man was standing outside the office peering through the window.

  “I’m coming,” Parker yelled, breaking into a jog. The guy looked vaguely familiar, but he’d never seen the woman standing by the car.

  The man met him halfway and when he was close enough to shake his hand, the name Jim Kellerman zipped into Parker’s mind. “Hey, nice to see you, Jim,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Not good right now. We found a crow out in the backyard,” Jim said. “I remembered about you coming from a rescue place—”

  “Where is it?” Parker interrupted. “In your car?”

  “Yeah, my wife looked something up online and they said to wrap it in a blanket and put it in a box.” Jim breathed heavily, his face flushed.

  “Good, that’s good,” Parker said, walking toward the car. At the moment, he was more worried about Jim than he was about the bird. Ironic, Jim would be the one to bring in a crow. The only guy in town who’d openly opposed the sanctuary.

  He introduced himself to Jim’s wife, Ruth, who pointed to the back seat. “I emptied the biggest box we had in the basement. We didn’t want to hurt him more. We saw some wings out by the woods—big wingspan, what we saw of it anyway. It said online to cover its head.”

 

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