Read The Christmas Phoenix Online

Authors: Patricia Kiyono

The Christmas Phoenix (4 page)

BOOK: The Christmas Phoenix
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****

Jess opened Jake's screen door, turned, and held it open with her hip as she opened the wood door. Then she bent to pick up the slow cooker she had set at her feet. The aroma of chicken soup comforted her. The slow cooker would keep it warm until Jake was ready to eat. She'd planned to set it down on his countertop and plug it in, but one look at his kitchen made her grimace. The place looked as if every plate and utensil in the house was piled either in the sink or on the counter. Empty pizza and fast food containers overflowed from the wastebasket. Was this how he lived all the time, or just when he was under pressure to finish a project?

Well, she wasn't going to leave him with this mess. He wouldn't be able to eat the soup if he didn't have a clean bowl and spoon. Sighing, Jess rolled up her sleeves and went to work.

An hour later, the counters were gleaming, and the dishwasher hummed. Two large garbage bags leaned against the bottom cupboards near the garage door.

Rory came in the front door, carrying Charlie. Jess handed him a towel and he wiped off the puppy's paws before setting the wiggling bundle down. Boots were removed before Rory stepped off the mat.

"I finished feeding and exercising Charlie and saw your truck was still in the driveway. Can you give me a ride home?"

"Sure. I just need to get rid of this trash. I'm assuming the bin is in the garage."

Rory scrunched his face. "I don't know, Mom. Mr. Thompson is working out there, and he won't want to be interrupted."

"I won't interrupt him."

"Yeah, but any noise might make him freak, and if he freaks he'll mess up another sculpture."

"All right, I won't go in the garage."

"Good." Satisfied, Rory cast a curious look about him. "You know, this place is really nice. He must make a lot of money."

"Yes, it is nice, but I don't make a lot of money. It belongs to my sister and her husband."

Both Jess and Rory started at hearing Jake, who had entered from the garage without either of them hearing him.

"I smelled something delicious, and my stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten in a while." He glanced around. "Looks like you've been working. I can see the counters and the inside of the sink.” He frowned. "I wasn't expecting you to do housework."

"I know you weren't, but I figured since you were in a time crunch you could use some help. Especially when I couldn't find a clean bowl or spoon for you to eat the soup with."

Jake answered with a curt nod, and Jess thought she detected a bit of red in his cheeks.

"Yeah, I haven't kept up on things. Thanks. For the clean-up and the soup." He walked over to the counter and lifted the lid on the slow cooker. "Did you guys eat already?"

"Yes, we did. In fact, we need to get home now, so Rory can get his homework done. And I'm going to try and get a little shut-eye. We're supposed to get more snow tonight, so I'm going to have to be outside plowing early in the morning."

"That's rough work.” He picked up a bowl and ladled some of the thick soup into it.

"It's a living. So, will you have the sculptures done for the banquet tomorrow?”

“Yes. I will.”

“Good. I imagine you'll be busy for the next month, with the holidays coming up."

"I suppose. The orders are starting to come in, now that some people have seen my work. But my sister Donna is expecting me at her house in Chicago for Thanksgiving."

"That's next week."

Jake's hands froze. His jaw dropped, and his eyes opened wide. "Next week? Oh, no. I've gotta go shopping. We're exchanging Christmas gifts because she and her family are going on a cruise in December." He put the bowl down and started to pace. "I hate to shop. I never know what to buy." He looked up at Jess. "What should I get her?"

Jess laughed. "How would I know? I've never met her."

"Well, no, but you're a woman. I thought…well, never mind."

She took pity on him. "When do you leave for Chicago?"

"My flight leaves on Wednesday morning."

"You've got plenty of time. Finish your vases for the banquet, and then if you want me to help you shop, call me. I've got Monday off from the hotel."

"You're already so busy, I don't want to impose on you again."

"It's no problem. I have to shop for gifts, too." She put on her coat and gloves. "We need to get home now. I'll pick up the crock tomorrow after I'm done at the hotel. Maybe we can talk about some ideas for gifts."

Chapter Seven

 

Jake refilled the tank of the ice machine. Now that Thanksgiving was over, he would be busy every day. He had all the commissions he could handle with the equipment he had.

He'd arrived back in town three nights ago. His family holiday was done. Donna and her family had loved the relatively inexpensive yet thoughtful gifts Jess had helped him pick out. He'd enjoyed his visit with his sister and her family, but it felt good to be back home.

Home? When did this town in the far north become home?

Only a few months ago this had been a very temporary plan. A chance to get away, lick his wounds, and start over. But he was beginning to love this corner of the world. Other than the cold temps and the massive amount of lake effect snow, he felt comfortable here. He felt…at peace.

He had some good neighbors. The parents of the boys he had caught with the firecrackers had remained friendly. Rory had continued to come and exercise the dog even after Jake returned from his trip. And Jess...well, she was never far from his thoughts.

It bothered him how much he thought about her. About the way she worked so hard. He could relate to her predicament. Too bad the kid didn't do much to help her. He seemed like a nice enough kid, and he related well to Charlie. But he seemed to do everything he could to make more work for her. Last week, when she and Jake had shopped together, she could hardly keep her eyes open. The snowplowing business had her getting up early, and the hotel banquets kept her on her feet all day. And she constantly needed to keep tabs on her son, because he conveniently "forgot" things. Did he resent the time she spent away from him?

As if the thought had summoned him, the boy's shout echoed from the back of the house. Charlie eagerly responded, and Jake nodded in approval at the camaraderie they seemed to have built. He put on his boots and gloves and went out to watch them play.

Rory must have heard the door open. He turned toward the house and gave a friendly wave. Charlie, thinking they had another playmate, ran toward Jake, and Rory followed.

"I hope it's okay I came over. I only had a half day of school today, so I figured I'd come early and give Charlie some exercise."

"That's fine. Why did you only have school for half a day?"

“Parent-teacher conferences. We got out at eleven."

Jake checked his watch. "That was two hours ago. Did you eat lunch?"

"I made myself a sandwich."

"So you really can do something for yourself.” It was none of his business, but he couldn't stop the words from coming out.

Rory frowned. “I can do plenty of things on my own.”

"Oh. So you just don't have any ambition when you're at home."

"What are you talking about? I've got plenty of ambition."

"Really? Your mom waits on you hand and foot, even though she works two full-time jobs to feed you. I wonder why you would let her do that."

The boy's eyes narrowed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Could be. I just know what I've seen."

"Mom likes doing things for people. She said if she wants things done right, she has to do it herself. When I do stuff, I don't do it right."

"So learn how to do it right."

"She'd rather do it herself."

"That so? You think she'd rather do your homework for you? Run you off to school when you've got a bus that runs right past your house? Pick your clothes up off the floor? Doesn't seem like any of that takes a lot of brain power."

Rory was silent for a while. Then he started muttering, and Jake had to lean closer to discern the words.

"After Dad died, Mom didn't do anything for a long time. She wouldn't even get out of bed for a few days. I did all the cooking and laundry and got myself to school. I was worried about her, so I called Grandma Tate. She came over and yelled at Mom and told her she needed to take care of her son. She told her if she had—" He swallowed and struggled to keep his composure. "If she had taken better care of her husband, he'd still be alive. After that, Mom got up and started doing everything."

Jake rocked back on his heels, speechless. She did everything for the kid because someone had put a guilt complex on her? Because she thought she hadn't done enough for her husband? His heart bled for her. He could have cheerfully strangled the woman who had put this guilt into her.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's time for her to cut back. She's working herself into the ground. I don't know what her finances are, and it's none of my business. But I do know she could use a hand. Why don't we do something to help her?"

The kid was silent for a while. "Like what?"

"Like maybe having dinner ready for her when she gets home. Like picking up after yourself. Like helping her out when she tackles something she doesn't have to do by herself. Like having your homework done and remembering to bring it to school instead of making her remind you and then drive you to school after she's been on the road for five hours plowing out people's driveways. Stuff she shouldn't have to do."

The kid grimaced. "Yeah, I suppose I could do that. Except for having dinner ready. I can't cook. And I'm not allowed to use anything but the microwave when she's not there."

"That's a good rule. Well, I know how to cook. How about you pick up your stuff and do your homework, and I'll scrounge up something for supper?"

The kid looked at him dubiously. "You cook?"

"I get by. You live by yourself long enough and you learn."

"I don't like TV dinners."

"It won't be a frozen dinner, kid. I promise."

****

Jess parked in her garage and took a deep breath. It had been another long day. And now she needed to make dinner. She had no idea what food she had in the house. Maybe they could order out. That would give her more energy to watch Rory do his homework.

She climbed out of the truck and dragged herself to the back door, leading to the mudroom and kitchen. As soon as she opened the door, she paused.
What is that smell? Steak? Grilled onions? I must be overtired if my nose is playing tricks on me.
Hopefully Rory hadn't been impatient enough to try and cook on his own.

Letting herself in, she plopped herself onto the parson's bench and removed her boots. Then she took off her hat and gloves, all the while inhaling the same enticing smells. Had he ordered out already? But where would he get the money?

“Hey, Mom.” Her son greeted her cheerfully then opened a cupboard and pulled out some plates. “Dinner's ready. I'll have the table set in a minute.”

Jess' jaw dropped. She hopped up, drawing on energy she didn't know she'd had. “Dinner? Didn't I tell you not to use the stove when I'm gone?”

“He didn't. I did.”

Jake stood at the table, setting out silverware. “He told me he wasn't allowed to use the stove. So he helped me with the prep.”

“We made shish kabobs. Don't they look great, Mom?”

He sure did. Or rather, the food did. If this was a dream, she hoped she never woke up.

Chapter Eight

 

The Christmas decorations were in the basement somewhere. Jess took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and turned the door handle of the furnace room. It had been over two years since she had been in this basement room with Doug. She didn't like unfinished basements. The cement walls reminded her of European castle dungeons. When her brother had told her the furnace filter needed to be changed every few months, she'd talked him into taking care of it.

But she couldn't ask her brother to come again. He'd just changed the filter last week, and she'd feel silly asking her son to come and do this for her. She was the mom. She had to be the adult and come down here. Rory deserved to have a real Christmas this year. Two years ago, the pain had still been too raw. Doug had only been gone a few months, and she couldn't handle any of the festivities. She'd finally purchased gift cards for everyone, then she and Rory had gone to her brother's home for a few days. Last year had been a little better, but she still hadn't gotten into the holiday mood enough to get a tree. She'd actually forgotten about it until one of Rory's friends had made a comment when he'd come to visit the day after Christmas.

"Wow, you guys are fast," he'd said.

"What do you mean?"

"You've already got your tree and all your decorations down. My mom doesn't usually get around to it until the end of January. She says it takes so much time and effort to get it up, she wants to enjoy it for a while."

She hadn't bothered to tell him there hadn't been a tree. Or decorations.

Rory deserved better. She couldn't remain in mourning forever. So here she was, facing her demons. Well, one demon anyway. She was about to enter the scariest room in the house. Doug had teased her about her irrational fear of the basement. "Other than a couple of dragons and a family of mice, there's nothing down there that could harm you."

She knew the fear was irrational, but she couldn't help it. Standing at the doorway, she had yet to set foot in the furnace room, but her hands felt clammy, her heart beat so fast she felt dizzy. But she had to do it. She took one step, and then another. She could make out the boxes marked "Christmas Stuff" in Doug's bold block lettering. Only a few more steps to go and then—

"Mom?"

The scream coming from her mouth echoed off the cement walls, and she scrambled to the doorway, where her son stood, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. She brushed past him to the stairway and collapsed on the bottom step, where she sat, holding her knees, her head down on her lap, shaking and sobbing.

She was aware of Rory's warmth as he settled on the step next to her. Slowly, his thin arm came around her back, patting her. His voice, when he spoke, cracked between the high register of youth and the deeper baritone it would become.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I know you don't like the basement, so I came down to help you. Really. I wasn't trying to freak you out." With each word, his voice got higher in pitch and more desperate in tone.

The fear in Rory's voice finally got through, and Jess knew she had to get it together. She took a deep breath, sat up, and wiped away her tears. Rory still clung to her, his face pale. She reached around him and gave him a reassuring hug.

"I'm okay now, Rory. Sorry I freaked out on you like that."

"I know you're scared of the basement, Mom. That's why I came down. If you needed something, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because—because it's silly for me to be afraid of that room. I should be able to get the Christmas decorations myself."

Rory perked up. "You're going to put up decorations this year?"

"You bet. And we'll go and pick out a tree this weekend."

"Cool!"

Jess' feelings were a mix of happiness and guilt. She was happy to see her teenage son get excited about something. That hadn't happened in a long time. And she felt guilty that the thing it took to make him excited was something she should have been able to provide for him.

Rory popped up. "I'll get those decorations out for you, Mom. You stay right here." He dashed in the furnace room and returned, carrying the large plastic tub. Jess scrambled up to help. Together, they wrestled it up the stairs and set it in the middle of the living room.

"Is there anything else down there, Mom?"

She scrunched her face in thought. "The outdoor decorations are in another box, but I'm not sure where your dad put it."

"What does it look like?"

"I'm not sure. I think it was a big white box, the one your bookshelf came in."

Rory stilled, and his eyes clouded. Jess immediately regretted mentioning the bookshelf. Doug and Rory had spent nearly a week setting up the unit. It was the last project they had tackled together.

"I remember the box, Mom. I'll be right back."

Jess briefly considered going after him, but the chill creeping up her spine made her reconsider. If Rory had trouble, she'd go after him. Yes, she would.

Standing at the top of the stairs, she heard boxes being moved about and her son's grunts as he lifted things and moved them around. Paper rustled as he searched through opened boxes. Finally, the noises stopped and she soon saw him carrying another plastic tub.

"I found the box, but this wreath and bows and stuff were on top of it. Did you want me to put the wreath up over the mantle?"

"Sure. I'll get the ladder." She headed toward the pantry.

"Uh, Mom? I don't think I'll need it." He walked over to the mantle, reached up and took down the family photo that hung there. Dust flew, and he sneezed. Jess cringed. There was another household chore she hadn't taken care of lately. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a dust cloth. By the time she got back to the living room, the wreath had already been hung in place. Her little boy was tall enough to do this on his own.

Rory wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I'll go downstairs and get the rest of the stuff now."

Jess couldn't stop the tear from escaping her eye. Doug would have been so proud of their son.

BOOK: The Christmas Phoenix
12.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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