Bring Me Home for Christmas (20 page)

“I love that tree outside,” Jack told Becca. “But I probably shouldn’t have let Melinda talk me into it.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Look at this place,” he said. “Tuesday night and it’s standing room only. We never had crowds like this around the holidays until that tree started lighting their way into town. A lot of these folks have military backgrounds—they come to see the red-white-and-blue tree, leave unit patches to be added next year.”

She looked around. “They all look pretty happy. And it must be a few extra bucks in the Christmas kitty. Huh?”

“Can’t complain about the business,” he said. “Just the hours. We’ve got stuff to do. Like the Christmas baskets.”

“Ah. Would that include the ‘town turkeys’?”

“Huh?”

“One of the little girls in my homework group indicated her dad resented what he called the ‘town turkey.’ You probably know him—lost his arm in a logging accident?”

“Yeah, that’s Frank. He’s a real sourpuss. Too bad—he wasn’t before the accident. Used to be a sweetheart. Lots of fun. But now? Not so much. He’s just a young guy with a young family. I bet he’s thirty-two.”

“I think I saw him in here once. And I met his wife. Frankly, I thought she was a bit older.”

“We’d all be a bit older if we worked twelve-hour days in a truck stop,” Jack said. “Frank can resent the town turkey, as he calls it, all he wants, but I bet his kids don’t. He’ll be getting a real nice Christmas package.”

“Do you do a lot of that sort of thing?”

Jack shrugged. “We help out where we can. There’s enough to keep us all busy around here. But we only do the baskets at Thanksgiving and Christmas. We got together with Noah, the preacher, and started a list of people who needed a hand. No one is better equipped to put names on that list than the pastor, the town doctor and my wife.” He rubbed his chin. “Bothers me that there are probably more folks out there in need that we just don’t know about. I worry about the elderly. There are some folks around the mountains who have been here fifty years or more and most of ’em just don’t take to charity. If they get sick, they’ll just hunker down till they either feel better or drop dead.”

“Ew. What a creepy thought.”

He grinned at her. Then the grin faded. “And the children—I always worry about the kids. While the elderly won’t ask for help, the kids can’t. We keep our eyes open and do the best we can.”

She smiled and said, “And yet, even with all that, people seem to find this place enchanting.”

“Enchanting? I don’t know about that.” He leaned on the bar. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I feel useful here. Needed. I’m appreciated for what I can contribute and people let me know that. In a lot of other places, I could disappear and barely be missed.”

“Aw, I can’t believe that.”

“Accurate or not, I know I’m counted on here.” He glanced down the bar to see a patron with his hand up, beckoning him. “Excuse me a minute.”

While he moved down the bar to serve a drink, she caught sight of Denny bringing food from the kitchen to a table full of people. Locals, she presumed, because they all laughed with him, joking around with him, and he was giving it right back, as if they’d all been friends forever.

That’s what Denny meant. He felt useful; he knew he was needed. Back in San Diego, he must never have been sure of that.

Because the bar was so busy, Denny wanted to help out until closing, despite the fact that both Jack and Preacher told him to take off, spend time with his girl. He took a fifteen-minute break to walk Becca home and make sure she got up those stairs safely. “I hope you don’t mind too much, I’m going to be another hour, maybe hour and a half. The guys told me to call it quits, but Paige is busy with the kids and I can help while you use the time to get ready for bed, call your mom or maybe read for a while.”

“Thanks. I don’t feel like sitting around a packed bar.”

“Whew, we hardly ever see it that busy. Maybe at the peak of hunting season. Or if we have a fire and the firefighters are passing through on their way in and out of the mountains. Jack takes real good care of those boys.”

“Takes care of them?”

“Anyone who looks after the needs of the town, he serves for free. That includes law enforcement, firefighters, doctors, et cetera. He says it keeps things in balance.”

“How?”

“It’s what he has to offer,” Denny said with a shrug. “And they give back what they have to offer.”

“To him? Like free law enforcement or fire-fighting? Because that comes out of taxes, right? We don’t actually get a bill.”

Denny laughed softly. “There was a big fire in these mountains a few years ago—it came real close to town. The bar is still standing. That would’ve been a big bill.” He pulled on one of her arms so they would stop walking. He slowly turned her around and they looked back down the street at the Christmas tree. The lights around the tree reflected under the black sky, while the star on top lit a path down the street. “Look at that thing,” he said. “Kind of amazing that a bunch of guys from town can make that whole thing happen.”

Becca noticed that in addition to the tree, the houses lining the street were decked out in their decorations, lights lining the eaves of houses, trees glittering in the living rooms behind picture windows, wreaths on doors, smoke curling from chimneys. This wasn’t a quaint Thomas Kincade village, that was for sure. Rather, it was an old town that had endured, a town whose character showed in its wrinkles and cracks. The homes were well used and some more well kept than others, but the street was wide, the trees tall and the dark mountains rose majestically beyond.

There was the roar of an engine and the jingling of bells that brought to mind Santa’s sleigh, and Denny quickly pulled her out of the way just in time for a tractor-drawn wagon to come around the corner and pass. It was covered in hay and loaded with laughing kids and a few adults.

“Hey, Denny!” someone yelled.

He raised a hand in return and watched them drive by. Then he turned Becca and walked beside her down the street.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“One of the local farmers. He’s got grandkids, so he’s always giving sleigh rides. Or I should say wagon rides.” When they got to the foot of the stairs, he lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way up. Once inside the efficiency, he gave her a kiss. “I won’t be too long. I won’t hang around the bar, that’s for sure.”

“Take your time,” she said, watching him leave.

The door closed behind him and she just stood there for a moment. Then, even though she had time for a leisurely bath and relaxation before he returned, she went to the phone and called her mother. “Mom, tell me the story of when you fell in love with Dad…”

Beverly fell in love with Alex Timm when she was twenty-one. She was at an Army-Navy game in Philly. She was a senior at George Washington University and it was a big game. Beverly’s dad had been Navy, so she was tied to that team and had driven from Virginia with a bunch of girlfriends.

“Your dad’s ship was dry-docked in Baltimore and he was at the game in uniform—those beautiful Navy whites. I know I shouldn’t tell this to my daughter, especially since I keep advising you to stop being so ridiculously romantic and use your head, but I think I fell in love with him the second I saw him. I was certainly down for the count when he and his friends took me and my girlfriends out after the game. I’d just never met anyone like him. He was…how can I put it? Gallant. Funny. Handsome. And on shore leave for a few weeks.”

“But you knew right away?”

“I thought I did,” she said. “But after a few weeks, he shipped out and we were separated on and off for the next two years. A long-distance relationship.”

“When did he ask you to marry him?” Becca asked.

“When he was stationed in San Diego. He flew out to Virginia. He only had a few days of leave. He told me then that he didn’t want to be away from me any longer and he’d tried his best to get assigned to Virginia. But it didn’t work out, and there was nothing he could do but beg me to marry him. By that time, I’d graduated and had a pretty stable job at a newspaper. And we lived on different coasts. So he asked me to take a chance on him and come back to San Diego with him.”

“And you did.”

“Not immediately. I had to think about it. I was born in Virginia! And my parents were completely opposed to the idea—they were old-fashioned. There’s a courtship, a ring and a wedding first. It wasn’t a hard decision, it was a terrifying one.”

“How long did it take you to decide?” Becca asked, even though she’d heard the story a few dozen times.

“Three weeks,” Beverly said. Then she laughed. “I guess that shows you that at twenty-three I didn’t have a whole lot of willpower. And when I packed to leave, my father said, ‘Make no mistake, you do this against my approval.’”

“Wasn’t it hard for you to make such a big change?”

“Of course,” Beverly said. “And it was a huge adjustment. San Diego was nothing like Virginia. I had to make all new friends, your father’s friends. I planned a wedding without my parents. In fact, my father was so opposed to the idea of me living with my fiancé, he refused to help pay for the wedding.” She laughed a little. “For a while, he said he wouldn’t even attend unless it was in Virginia, but my mother put her foot down. It was a wonderful and scary time.”

Her mother stopped talking and silence enveloped them both. Wonderful and scary, thought Becca. That just about summed it up.

When Denny entered his apartment, only the bathroom light was on. Becca was curled onto her side, snuggled into the quilts, her hair fanned out over the pillow.

He ran his cold hands under hot water in the bathroom, stripped and crawled in beside her, spooning around her back. He slid an arm over her waist and pulled her against him. “Sorry I’m late,” he whispered. “Those people didn’t want to leave.”

“Hmm,” she murmured.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, wriggling against him. “Shh.”

He lay still and quiet for a while, his face against her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. Minutes passed before he whispered, “You awake?”

“Barely,” she said.

“I think I forgot to do something…”

She rolled onto her back. “Are you leaving again?”

He grinned down at her and shook his head.

“What did you forget to do?”

“I forgot to make love to you.” Just pressing up against her, even against those boring flannel pajamas, he was already aroused.

“Are you really waking me up for sex?” she asked him.

He grinned as he nodded, looking down at her beautiful face. He covered those soft, pink lips with a searching kiss. “I need you,” he said. “I want to be inside you.” He had never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. In fact, he had never wanted anyone else. “If I say please?” he whispered against her cheek.

“I can hardly say no, since you’re so polite….”

“Good, I’ll remember that. I’ll mind my manners at all times. For the rest of my life.” And then he stopped talking, kissing her while he made those pajamas go away….

“Mom?” Becca said into the phone the next day. “When you went to San Diego to be with Daddy, did you ever wonder if you’d made a terrible mistake? Even though you loved him?”

“Did I cry for my mom and dad? Was I sometimes real lonely without my girlfriends? The answer is yes. I told you, it wasn’t easy.”

“How did you do it? How did you make that decision and then stick to it?”

“Well, it’s been so long…but there was the story of Ruth from the Bible. My dad was real big on the Bible sometimes. Ruth left the family she knew and went with her new husband. She said, ‘Your people shall be my people.’ I know that’s supposed to be biblical, but I actually found it romantic. Of course, at the time, I didn’t realize your Dad’s people would include the beer-drinking champion of the Naval base, a few fellow football fanatics he couldn’t be away from if there was a game playing anywhere in the universe, a bowling team and a very sour-smelling fishing buddy who might show up for a meal once a week.”

Becca laughed softly.

“A Navy second lieutenant’s pay was pretty small, I didn’t have a job in San Diego and my parents lived on the opposite coast. Leaving them for the man of my choice meant not seeing them for a long time—air travel was pricey, there wasn’t email and long-distance phone calls were expensive.” Beverly paused. “What’s happening, Becca?”

“Oh…just pondering… Denny so loves this town….”

“I suppose you think I was born yesterday,” Beverly said. “Becca, I haven’t made it any secret that I wanted a different partner for you. One who was going to be successful enough to take you to Europe and the kids to Disney once a year. But I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit I followed my heart. Besides, you can’t cry alone at chick flicks for the rest of your life. I might not like it, but I understand you have to confront it.”

“I don’t cry alone at chick flicks!”

“Yes, you do. Maybe you can bring him home. This was his home once, after all,” Beverly said.

“You were so angry with me for coming up here and now it sounds like you might actually understand!”

“Tell him we’re having ham and turkey for Christmas,” Beverly said.

Although Becca laughed, a few tears slid down her cheeks.

Contents

Thirteen

Becca had hoped to see Megan the day after her “accident” but she didn’t show up at the church for homework. Since her little brother also hung out at the pastor’s house or around the church, she asked Jeremy where she was. “Home, coughing,” he said.

“Oh, no. She’s sick?”

He shrugged. “Sorta. She barks like a dog.”

“Not good,” Becca agreed.

When Lorraine came to pick up Jeremy on her way home from her job, Becca was able to ask after Megan. Lorraine was keeping her home, giving her cough syrup and Tylenol and shoveling chicken soup into her. “Her biggest worry is that if she has to miss the pageant practice on Saturday afternoon, she won’t get to be Mary!”

“If she were one of the singing angels, missing practice could be dicey,” Becca said. “But Mary doesn’t have to do anything but sit beside the manger. I’ll double check with Ellie and Jo, but I think her role is safe even if she misses Saturday, as long as she’s not contagious. And please, don’t let her talk you into letting her come to practice until she’s better. Whatever she’s got? No one wants to share it!”