Postmark Christmas

by Katie Bachand

  From the reception area, her eyes scanned the door of her favorite office, her dad’s. Raymond Thomas, President. The plaque was the only object that stated his title, and he’d only kept it because it was a gift from the first client he’d secured. Nostalgia won out with Raymond every time.

  Grace walked slowly along the thick shelves of the library wall, touching trinkets and looking at pictures of the great man she – they – had lost. She stopped at a photograph of her mom and dad. Both of their eyes closed in laughter; her mom doubled over, and her dad leaning backward. Each was encircling an arm around the other. It wasn’t a picture you’d expect anybody to keep. It wasn’t flattering – you could barely see their faces – but it was perfect. They were perfect. Their love was perfect.

  Guilt wasn’t a feeling she was used to, but she felt it now. She felt it because in that instant she wished she would have found a love like that. Wished her father could have met the person that would make her laugh, or laugh with her, like that. It was a selfish notion, especially now. She pushed the thought away, along with the guilt. She needed to move forward. She had other people, and this business, to take care of.

  She moved to the leather chair that ruled the office, regally hovering behind the desk, and sat. She swiveled back and forth and finally paused and looked out the window into the night. This was her place, she thought. She felt safe here. She felt her dad here. And she made a promise.

  “Dad, it hasn’t been more than a week. I already miss you more than I can bear. But I promise you I’ll still try and make you so proud. I know I won’t have to, but I’ll take care of mom and Will. And here,” she spun and looked toward the opening that gave her a view of the whole office, “I’ll work so hard to make Thomas and Jane every bit the company you envisioned. People will remember what you built. I’ll make sure of it. No matter the cost.”

  __

  The girls had watched Grace leave the funeral and knew they needed to let her go, at least for tonight. Grace had endured a very public loss; she didn’t need a public grieving. They’d all received too much attention from the guests as they’d shared their embrace. When Lydia Thomas took notice of the commotion the four friends were causing, she’d covered her mouth in a brief moment of happiness and appreciation.

  Lydia apologized to the next guest in line, excused herself, and walked toward the huddle. She needed to see the girls. Her girls. Rachel and Casey had made the Thomas house their own growing up. And later, when they had moved on to college, Aimeé was taken in by the inseparable trio of Casey, Rachel, and Grace. It was hard to imagine now that she hadn’t been there all along. When Lydia got close enough, the three girls blanketed her as they had Grace only moments before.

  She was a mother to them all. Lydia remembered the day Grace had sat Raymond and her down at the kitchen table, telling them they needed another room because Casey and Rachel needed a pretty bedroom to sleep in when they came over. Raymond had reminded Grace her friends didn’t live there, and he reminded Lydia they weren’t her children. But he had seen their hopeful faces, ran it by William (who’d always had a crush on Rachel anyway) and when he said, “Yeah, whatever,” Raymond couldn’t help but smile and agree. Anything for his girl, or more appropriately, girls.

  “Oh, my girls,” Lydia sighed gratefully. “I love you all so much. Thank you for coming.”

  “We wouldn’t – couldn’t – be anywhere else,” Rachel spoke for the group. “What can we do? Anything at all. Please let us help you.”

  “You can help me,” Lydia said.

  The girls unwrapped their arms from one another and stared, eager to do whatever they could.

  “Anything,” Casey and Aimeé confirmed simultaneously. Rachel looked on hopefully, relieved that any one of them could offer something to help.

  “Watch out for her. Be there for her like you’ve always been. As hard as this is for us,” Lydia motioned to herself and William, “it will be harder for her. He was everything to her. He was her steady guide and her listening ear. Everything she sees in herself that is good, she believes came from him. Most of it did. She’ll feel lost for a little while, but I’m hoping the three of you can help make her way back just a little easier.”

  “Of course,” Rachel confirmed. “We already have a plan and a rotation. We’ve already decided for the first couple weeks she only gets one night alone, never two in a row. Otherwise, one or all of us will be there. The move will help keep her mind occupied.” Rachel became wistful for just a moment. “I’m happy he was able to see Grace’s new home before…” She couldn’t say it. On her exhale, William, who had trailed his mother when she joined the girls, reached forward to brush the stray tear away, and she let him. Today she would allow him to show her the affection she’d cut off years before.

  Lydia watched her son’s tenderness toward Rachel and thought, another time, another place.

  She continued. “You know she will throw herself into work. Please, do anything you can to make her live. She’s dreamed her whole life about having a family like the one she had growing up. Though hers will be her own, I’m afraid she’ll stop looking for it and spend every waking hour at that office building. Raymond did that. Which I’ll never regret, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have just a little wish we would have had him home a bit more. Because, well, you just never know.”

  “And,” Lydia drew their attention back as their eyes had followed her own to the casket, “I, well...Raymond gave me this to give to Grace.”

  They all looked down. The envelope was sealed and had the company logo on it.

  “It just seems so silly to worry about work right now. It seems so,” Lydia searched for the word, “insignificant. I don’t want the last thing Grace reads from her dad be about work.”

  “Perhaps waiting is best,” Aimeé offered, knowing from experience financial matters were the last thing somebody wanted to deal with when there was a death in the family.

  Lydia held the envelope close to her heart. “Then, we’ll wait. Maybe not for the right time, but a better time.”

  CHAPTER 1

  “Did you hear the rumors?” Abbi asked.

  Grace looked at her beautiful aunt and current CFO of Thomas and Jane LLC, Abigail Jane, and saw more confidence and poise in the woman than she’d seen in an entire boardroom of men.

  “That Wallace is on the hunt?” Grace asked as Abbi sat in the guest chair of her dad’s old office, “Yes, I heard.”

  “And?”

  “Over my dead body was the first thing I thought.” She smiled and turned away from the window and leaned her long frame against the pane. “Then I thought about all the people out there,” she nodded toward the team of amazing employees they’d earned, groomed, and grown to love over the years. “And I don’t know. I made a promise I wouldn’t change what was important about this company, and that’s these people. If Wallace takes us over, sure, it would be a nice payday – but what happens after that?”

  Abbi turned, following Grace’s gaze, and looked down the long bank of beautiful wooden desks. She nodded.

  “I agree, it should never be about the money. Do you realize the number of shares they would have to buy? The amount of money? I’d be lying if I didn’t say, at my age, it seems appealing to-”

  “If you say retire I’m going to greet you as old aunt Abbi for the rest of my life.”

  It wasn’t a feeling of disappointment, but she was certainly surprised her aunt would ever want to leave. In her mind, she had always thought of Abbi as her other half, the Jane to her Thomas. She grew up admiring Abbi as she watched her hold her own in what was usually a room full of powerful men.

  Grace looked at her aunt, a dark-complexioned, black-haired beauty. The polar opposite of Abbi’s brother, Raymond. Grace had gotten her blonde hair and light complexion from her dad. For the first time, though, she noticed the overworked lines that shadowed below her beloved aunt’s eyes.

  “Abbi, you know what this means to me. To us.” She
turned and looked out.

  “I know. It could be a busy couple of weeks.” Abbi tried to remember it was business – yes, at the end of the day, it was business. But for this precious, ambitious, girl – woman – she had the blessing of calling her niece, she knew it reached far beyond personal. “I don’t think we’ll have much of a choice, should they decide on a takeover.”

  “We do have a choice. We have options. We can force options.” Grace’s head turned at the comment, and her body followed to face Abbi straight on. “Giving in would be taking the easy way out. Wallace will take this place and slowly dismantle everything we’ve worked for.”

  Grace paused for a moment to gather her usually organized thoughts and held up both hands to stop Abbi from commenting.

  “We – you, dad, mom, everybody out there – we’ve put in too many hours, too many tears. Too many relationships were built here not to try. Who knows if they will still have their jobs on day two?”

  Abbi watched, bemused, as Grace moved to the window once more and gestured toward the bank of desks. This beautiful girl, who, if the Wallace deal happened, wouldn’t have to work another day in her life, was standing here worried about everybody but herself.

  It was time to be the aunt.

  Abbi met Grace at the window and watched Fall begin to settle over a Minneapolis scene. In a month or two it would be covered in snow. The leaves on the trees lining the city sidewalk had already begun to turn their September yellows. She draped an arm around Grace’s shoulder as she tried her best to comfort.

  “It’s only a rumor, for now. But rumors usually start for a reason. Take your two weeks off, rest, try not to think about this, and we’ll deal with whatever we need to when you get back. There is a lot that will need to happen if, well, it happens. Even then, after the due diligence process, Wallace could decide it’s not worth it. Until then, we keep working,” she said firmly.

  Grace laid her head on Abbi’s shoulder, closed her tired, aching eyes, and silently prayed that no matter the outcome, she would make her dad proud.

  CHAPTER 2

  “One triple hazelnut latte with cinnamon, for one very depressed face.”

  Grace looked at Aimeé and offered the most pathetic smile she could muster.

  With a wink, Aimeé set the latte down and turned back to the bar. Over her shoulder, she said, “Closing in ten. Then we can get down to details. Casey and Rachel are on their way. We have important things to discuss.”

  Important things to discuss? Her livelihood was important. But damn if she didn’t love them and feel a little curious.

  As the espresso machine hissed and blender whirred, she watched Aimeé effortlessly move behind the coffee bar, laughing in conversation with her loyal patrons. All of whom Aimeé knew by name. Grace had seen more than one customer flush at the way their name sang out in the sweet French accent Aimeé had brought with her when she moved to the United States. Aimeé arrived at the tender age of eighteen and brought some coffee and pastry heaven with her. Why and how Aimeé decided on Minnesota, Grace still didn’t know – and it wasn’t for lack of trying – but she couldn’t be happier this is where her dear friend had landed.

  Laughter filled the front of the shop. She could only assume one of the loyal patrons was offering a marriage proposal as payment for a black coffee and a butter scone – as many often did.

  “For tomorrow’s breakfast.” Grace heard the hoarse voice as she watched an old man lift a folded paper bag and travel cup.

  Grace was skeptical the treat would make it until morning. If only he were sixty years younger, he might have a shot with her black-haired, beautiful French friend.

  Never before had she seen a more stunning person. Aimeé’s black wavy bob perfectly framed her delicate features. Almost-black eyes and brows added dangerous allure and insane sex appeal to her appearance. One look at Aimeé and you’d guess runway model, not pastry chef.

  The chime of the bell sitting on top of the coffee shop door pulled her away from her thoughts. Grace felt the cold gust of wind that accompanied her two friends through the doorway. Completely wrapped up in each other’s words, Casey and Rachel continued their enthusiastic conversation, ignoring the stares that followed them on their path to the table.

  “I’m serious. This is a horrible idea.” Casey unwrapped her scarf, her eyes intense on Rachel.

  “You brought up the idea. And it is not a very bad idea. It’s simply a little...” Rachel looked up to ponder the correct choice of words and brightened as she found a fit: “A little nudge.”

  “A nudge?”

  “A nudge.” Rachel confirmed.

  “Grace doesn’t need a nudge; besides, I changed my mind. And she has bigger things on her plate right now.” The two stood facing each other after they had disrobed their fall layers and heaved their bags onto the backs of their chairs.

  Rachel folded her arms across her chest. She stated her rebuttal as if it were gospel, “There is never too much on your plate when it comes to the matters of the heart.”

  Silence fell between the two in the middle of the emptying shop, as they contemplated the end of their conversation.

  “We’ll see.” It was all that Casey – the ever-worrying, cynical, and even she admitted, glass-half-empty type – could muster.

  Grace, still sitting mutely, having witnessed the intense exchange, moved her eyes from one to the other and back again.

  “Hi,” she said pointedly.

  Both turned their stares in her direction, having been so caught up in their discussion that they were surprised to see she was present.

  “I don’t mean to be nosey, but I thought I overheard my name in there?” Amusement filled Grace’s green eyes as her two friends sat side by side across from her without saying a word. How was she lucky enough to find these fantastic, slightly chaotic, dazzling friends?

  When neither of them spoke, Grace tried once more. “I’m curious as to what’s so good that you two are choosing to be up at ten on a school night? Spill.”

  Rachel smiled, and Casey raised her hand. Without missing a beat, in the middle of her closing duties, Aimeé called on her from behind the bar like a teacher calls on an eager student. “Yes, Casey?”

  “I think we might need a bottle of wine.”

  “One bottle of wine, coming up. Be over in five. Any preference?” Aimeé inquired to the group as she ushered out the last of her crowd into the night and locked up the front entrance.

  “The alcoholic kind,” Rachel put in, with a wry smile pasted on her face.

  “Why don’t you start with the company stuff? Did you hear the rumor today? Wallace Corporation is on the hunt for its next takeover. Does the coffee wonder woman back there know? I’m assuming you’ve been here since you left the office today?” Casey said, always the one getting down to business.

  Grace was too tired to ask how Casey knew the company was being sought after by the much larger firm. Maybe she bugged the office, or hacked into the security cameras. Grace didn’t want to know because it would just mean extra work. Sometimes Casey, a brilliant technologist, knew just a little too much about everything.

  “Thomas and Jane is a brilliant, sophisticated, and beloved company. Therefore, it is very appealing to larger, poopy-er, corporate-y-er companies. Companies like Wallace, for example.” Grace said with just a tiny trace of bitterness, as she took a sip of her latte.

  “Your sophisticated word choice astounds me. No wonder people can relate to you, you can really dumb it down.” Casey grinned as Grace narrowed her eyes in disapproval. So maybe the description was less than elegant? It was what might happen – would probably happen – she corrected herself.

  “Want me to screw up some of the paperwork?” Casey offered, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. “Find some dirty gossip on Wallace? Maybe plant an email or five? Couple people pay a fine, go to jail, you get to keep the company, happy ever after.” She waved her hand as if to say, no big deal.

  Grace laughed in s
pite of herself. “Case, I love you. I would love to utilize your hacking skills, but I would also like you not to go to prison.

  “Prison? What kind of a hack do you think I am? I’m better than that. And you might want to tell your security team to check their firewalls. And maybe the single sign-on he set up. That should do it, though.”

  “I should send you to prison myself. No more snooping.” Grace pointed at Casey, who shrugged innocently.

  Huffing out a breath, Grace resigned, thankful for wine and somebody to talk to. “It’s just a bummer is all.”

  As Aimeé sashayed over, she presented the wine to the table, the cork already removed. Four glasses and a second bottle peeking out from under Aimeé’s arm followed. Grace eyed the red juice and thought, this night was either going to be really good, or really bad.

  CHAPTER 3

  Swallowing nearly half of her second glass of wine she paused, mostly for effect.

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  Grace looked from one to the other, pausing at last on Rachel – she would cave.

  “You.” She pointed at Rachel. An accusing finger lifted from her glass and held from across the table. She would figure out whose idea this was.

  “It is done.” Aimeé waved her hand away as if it was all said and done.

  “What is done?”

  “What our dear Aimeé means is, we might have already scheduled the date. You’re meeting tomorrow for drinks. Then if the drinks are good, you go to dinner.” Rachel quickly followed with, “And who doesn’t like a free drink? If it were me, I would go just knowing it was free. What?” Rachel turned her palms upward innocently as her friends groaned. She wasn’t ashamed. “Teacher here.”

  Rachel added, “Before you can say anything, we know he’s a good guy. I have it on competent authority – Casey – that he’s a gentleman and treats all people with respect. Including, but not limited to, opening doors, walking along the street on the outside, helping coats off and on, pulling out chairs, and last but definitely not least, paying for meals.” She and Aimeé clinked their glasses together.