The Christmas Secret (13 page)

He shook his head. “No, every cookie I've ever eaten here has been great. I'd actually love a sack if that's okay.”

“Sure,” she said. “I don't normally work the cash register but Tasha could help you. Do you need anything else, Marshall?”

“No, do you?”

Rosemary looked at him, puzzled. “No. I'm fine.”

“Well, great! Good to see you.” He waved as she walked back to the kitchen. Tasha handed him a sack of white chocolate chip macadamia cookies and Marshall stuck his nose inside the bag and picked out a cookie, sighing as he smelled it.

 

Patricia Addison moved a half-empty cup of cold coffee to Roy Braedon's desk and smiled. She'd been putting partially eaten donuts, cups with coffee dregs on the bottom, and candy wrappers on his desk for years and it drove him crazy. Her phone rang and she reached for it. “This is Patricia.”

“This is Brad Eisley.” Patricia couldn't place the name
right away. “You went to my ex-wife's house but you never called me back.”

Patricia picked up a pen and her notepad, remembering. “I filed my report, Mr. Eisley.”

“But I didn't see it.”

“Your attorney has access to those files.”

“But they're my kids. They come home from school and aren't supervised. They're being neglected. Your report shows that, right?”

Patricia cringed. “My report is an accurate documentation of what I witnessed in the home and after spending time with the children.”

He paused. “So what does that mean?”

“Your attorney can share the information with you, Mr. Eisley. Thank you for calling.” She hung up and turned to see Roy, standing at his desk. “Do you ever get the feeling that some people have a need to be a jerk? They just can't get through the day without being a jerk to someone. It doesn't matter who: the bus driver maybe, or the cashier at the grocery store, the guy they work with, or the ex-wife, for whatever reason. He just wakes up and says, ‘It's a new day. I must be a jerk.' ”

Roy took a bite of a bagel and wiped cream cheese from his chin. “What'd I do now?” Patricia laughed and leaned forward, picking up the phone. “Who are you calling?” he asked. “Are you getting ready to stir the pot?”

“No,” she said, listening as the phone rang in her ear. “I'm taking the pot off the stove. Gloria! It's Patricia.” Gloria had been a foster mother for many of Patricia's cases and the women had developed a close relationship over the years.

“Give me the mother's information,” Gloria said. “Someone will get in touch with her in the next couple of days.”

 

Clayton came in but without Julie or the kids. He sat at a booth with another man and I approached them with coffee. “No Ava and Adam today?” I asked.

“No,” he said, putting the cup to his lips. I took their orders and walked to the computer.

“How's Clayton's wife?” Karen asked.

“I didn't know anything was wrong with her,” I said.

“She has cancer.”

Julie was young. Her children were young. Her husband had just ordered an omelet with bacon, onion, and cheese. How could she have cancer? I made my way around my tables and refilled every one's coffee, stopping at Clayton's booth. “How's Julie?” I asked.

“She's doing better,” he said. “Last week was hard. The chemo made her so sick and now her hair's falling out but this week she feels stronger. Her sister came into town and took her for her treatment today.” His voice was full and
warm and in love with her. Craig called my name and I ran to get their orders hoping I'd never see Clayton without Julie again.

 

Jason piled armloads of shirts and dress slacks onto rolling carts and wheeled them into the men's department. He noticed a small boy hiding in the middle of one of the circular racks and leaned over the top of it to peer down at him. “Hey, there,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“This is my command post,” the boy said.

“Like for a mission?” Jason asked, guessing the boy to be around five.

The boy nodded. “Space mission. I'm the commander. You be the bad guy.”

“No can do,” Jason said. “I'm working and the boss man gets real mad if I don't do my job.”

“What's your name?” the boy asked.

“Jason. What's yours?”

“Marcus,” the boy said, peering his face out between the slacks. “I'm four.”

“What the hell are you doing?” a young black man asked, yanking the boy from out of the middle of the rack.

“Playing space mission,” Marcus said.

“Damn it, Marcus. I told you to stay by me,” the man said. He looked no older than Jason.

“He was okay,” Jason said. “He wasn't bothering anything.”

“He's always bothering things,” the man said, jerking the boy's arm. “Get out of there.” He turned to look at Jason. “I need khaki pants for a job. You got any?”

Jason pointed to a table. “They're all stacked right there. More sizes in the back.”

“Don't go anywhere,” the man said to Marcus.

Marcus looked up and Jason shrugged his shoulders. “Your dad's kind of mad,” Jason said.

“He's not my dad,” Marcus said. “He's my mom's boyfriend. The other one left.”

“Hey, come back sometime and we'll play space mission,” Jason said, whispering. “Next time I'll be Dakmar the Dark from the planet Gondor and I'll threaten your planet with total ruin and devastation.”

“What's ruin and debastation?” Marcus asked.

“It's bad,” Jason said. “It's really, really bad!”

The man paid Matt for his pants and grabbed Marcus's hand. “Come on,” he said.

“Bye,” Marcus said, waving.

“Idiot,” Jason said, watching the man walk ahead of Marcus through the store.

“Have you gone to Glory's Place yet?” Marshall asked.

Jason jumped at his voice and tugged on the rack, pulling it to the front of the department. “No.”

Matt busied himself tearing apart the denim display and pretended not to listen. “But it'd be good for you,” Marshall said, perturbed.

“I think I know what's good for me,” Jason said, hanging several button-down shirts onto a rack.

Marshall lifted a handful of shirts and added them to the rack. “Is what you do for your own good or for someone else's good as well?”

Jason rolled his eyes. It sounded like a plaque on one of the office walls. “All I'm saying is I don't want to volunteer there. I'm not rejecting all of mankind here.”

Marshall grabbed the sleeves of several shirts and shook out the wrinkles. “We help Glory's Place every year with donations but they need help from young people like you.”

Jason's phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket, reading a text message from Ashley. Marshall held out his hand. “What?” Jason said.

“Absolutely no phones on the floor.”

“I'm not talking to anyone. I'm reading a text.”

“Not on store time you're not.” He held his open palm in front of Jason. Jason smirked and put the phone in Marshall's hand. “Pick it up on your break.”

Jason swore beneath his breath and Matt stepped from behind the denim wall he was building. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“He took my phone. Good news is I read the text and my girlfriend's coming here for a visit.”

“I didn't know you had a girlfriend,” Matt said.

“If she's coming for a visit she'll be my girlfriend,” Jason said.

“So it's all about convenience and timing?” Matt asked.

“That's the way it usually plays out,” Jason said.

 

On Friday Maddie was diagnosed with pneumonia and I asked Betty if I could work her shift until she came back. She agreed and I scrambled again to find a sitter. By two thirty I still hadn't found one and the kids would be home in an hour and a half. I would have an hour off between my first and second shift. I reasoned that if I hadn't found someone by then that I would race home and make something for Zach and Haley's dinner. I didn't tell anyone what I was thinking, that for the first time in their lives my children would stay home alone.
If I make dinner, cover the window on the front door so no one can see inside, and they lock the door then they'll be safe
, I said to myself.
They can eat, do their homework, watch a movie, and then it'll be time for bed. No, they can't do that. They're too little
. I battled with myself until three thirty and then bolted out the door for home.

Leftover tuna casserole was in the fridge and I poured some peas into a bowl with a little water and popped it in
the microwave. I reached for a plate and scooped three big spoonfuls of casserole onto it. While the peas cooked I went to the bathroom and pulled out a bath towel. I tried to secure it over the front door window but it was too heavy and I had no way to hold it there. I ran for the kitchen and brought out the roll of paper towels and the masking tape. I hung three sheets of towel over the first window and three over the second, securing each “curtain” with the tape. I hung a second and third layer on each window and taped the bottom of the towels as well, holding them in place. I opened the door and stepped outside, trying to peer through the windows. “There,” I said. I shut the blinds on the living-room windows and pulled the curtain to cover the deck sliding door. I checked the blinds in each of the bedrooms and ran back to the living room to make sure the TV and DVD player were all set for a movie.
They'll be okay
, I thought, warming the tuna casserole.
They'll be okay, they'll be okay, they'll be okay
.

The phone rang and I jumped. I popped the second plate in the microwave and pushed start. “Hello,” I said.

“Uh, hi. Is this Angela Eisley?” a man asked.

I always knew when it was a telemarketer because they always called me by my first name. I reached for the aluminum foil. I had no time for salespeople right now. “It is but—”

“My name's Jason and I'm calling with Glory's Place.”

I ripped off a sheet of aluminum foil and wrapped it around the warm plate. “Right! Yes,” I said.

“Um, I was told to call you and let you know that Glory's Place has room for your children if you need to bring them in sometime after school.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “You are a lifesaver,” I said. “I really didn't think I'd ever hear from you again. When can I bring them?”

I heard him talking with someone in the background. “The center is closed on Tuesdays and Thursdays but you can bring them the other days.”

“Do I need to tell you when I'm bringing Zach and Haley or can I just drop them off?”

I heard more muffled mumbling in the background. “You can just drop them off. Come in and fill out paperwork with whoever's here. Usually Dalton and Heddy are here in the afternoon.”

My mind kicked into gear to find a sitter for Tuesday. The microwave beeped and I ripped off another sheet of aluminum foil. “You have no idea how you've made my day,” I said.

“Well, that's what I try to do,” he said. “It's my gift.”

I heard screaming at the door and thanked the man for calling again. Zach and Haley fell into the doorway, breathing hard. “She's standing there again, Mom!” Zach said, handing me his coat.

“Who? Mrs. Meredith?”

“You mean the Bat Lady,” Haley said, kicking off her boots.

“Please don't let her hear you call her that,” I said. “It's not nice.”

“Bats aren't nice, either,” Zach said.

I squatted down and pulled each of them in front of me. “Listen, we need to talk,” I said.

 

Jason input Angela's information into the computer and stepped out of the office at Glory's Place. He saw a little boy trying to shoot a basket and walked to the court. “Hey! Space commander!”

Marcus turned and smiled. “Hey, I know you. You're Dakmar the Great.”

“Dakmar the
Dark
. And don't you forget it,” Jason said. “What are you doing here?”

“His mother dropped him off at our house this morning,” Dalton said. Dalton Gregory and his wife Heddy had been instrumental in finding this building for Glory's Place. Gloria kept them busy but they never complained. “It beats the alternative,” Dalton always said.

“Hey, Jason! Watch this.” Jason turned as Marcus popped a basketball high above his head.

“Nothing but air,” Jason said. “What was that? Here, try it like this.” He helped Marcus hold the ball and send it flying.

“It's hard,” Marcus said.

“But it gets easier. You just need to practice.” He laughed, watching Marcus heave the ball. “It's not a shot put. It's a ball!” Marcus laughed and tried again. “Why's he here?” Jason asked.

Dalton removed some boxes from the top of a cafeteria table and set them on the floor. He kept his voice low. “His mother's live-in slaps her around. She's been to the women's rescue mission several times but she always goes back to him.”

“Why?” Jason asked, helping Dalton move the boxes to the floor.

Dalton shrugged. “Why do they ever go back? I don't know. She started a new job today and didn't want to leave Marcus home with him.”

“I saw him with Marcus in the store. I wouldn't leave him alone with him, either. Has he ever hit Marcus?”

“Not that we know of but after a night of drinking or drugs that could change.”

Jason watched Marcus pop the ball into the air again and cheered when it swished the bottom of the net. “Now you're talking,” he said. “Another six inches and it's going in.” Marcus smiled and ran for the ball. “Would you need me tomorrow?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Dalton said. He pointed to two tables covered with boxes. “All these boxes need to be filled along
with those against the wall. We're waiting for the box of donations from Wilson's along with a box of shampoo, toothpaste, and toothbrushes from the grocery store.” Dalton walked to the next table and began stacking the boxes onto the floor. “We're going to need this space when the donations come in.”