The Christmas Secret (25 page)

“Car wouldn't start,” I said, filling her coffee.

She dove for her purse. “Did you tow it?” I shook my head. “I know just the guy. He's been working on my cars for years. Do you have AAA?” I shook my head again. “No bother. He'll go to your place.” She started to dial the number. “His name is Jack Andrews.”

“One of the mechanics who come in here?” She nodded. “I don't think I can afford to get it fixed right now,” I said, whispering to her. “I need an apartment. . . .” She waved me out of her face and started talking to someone.

“He won't charge you,” Miriam said.

“How can he not charge me?”

“It's his thing,” she said. “Just like this”—she waved her hands in front of Gloria—“is her thing.” I opened my mouth and Miriam stopped me. “Gloria has discovered over the
years that most people aren't looking for a handout. They're just looking for a hand. So shut up and take the hand.” I tried to say something but she pointed behind me to a table.

Clayton, Julie, and their kids sat in a booth and I grabbed a pot of coffee and two cups. Julie looked radiant in a green sweater and with a bright red scarf around her head. “Well, who picked out that beautiful scarf today?” I asked.

“I did,” Ava said. “I thought she'd look like Mrs. Santa in it but she still looks like Mom.”

Julie laughed and I set the cups on the table, filling them with coffee. “How are you?” I asked.

“I think I look better than I feel,” she said, whispering to me. “But that's okay.” She spoke louder so her kids could hear. “Christmas is two days away and I can hardly wait.” She smiled at Clayton and I knew she didn't just say that for the kids' sakes. I had a feeling that from now on every Christmas, birthday, sunrise, and rainy day would be a thing of beauty for her.

 

Jason swung open the door and scanned the restaurant. I watched him walk to the counter and lean into the vase of flowers to see if they were real. He beamed when he saw me at the waitress station. “Hey! I'm so sorry I had to bolt town like that.” My face was blank. “They moved my interview.” What was he talking about? “Did you get my messages?” I shook my head and he threw his arms in the air. “I
knew they were just going into a black hole. I called Sunday before you were open and left a message and then I called yesterday.”

I put my tray on my hip. He left town! “You had a job interview?”

He looked at his watch. “I have to get back to work but yes!”

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah.”

I forced a smile. “Congratulations. When do you start?” I wanted to say, “Why don't you find a job here?” Or, “Please don't go” but I didn't.

He looked at me and smiled. “Will we ever get to have coffee?”

 

Wilson's was packed that day. Jason helped Matt in menswear for the better part of the morning and couldn't keep up with the mess in the fitting rooms. He hauled a wad of pants and shirts out of an empty room and dumped them onto a counter to hang.

“Hey, where you been?”

He turned to see Marcus standing behind him. “Hey, dude. How's your shot coming along?”

“Nothing but net,” Marcus said. “And Dalton can't throw and none of the girls know how to do it, either. Where you been?”

Jason slung a pair of pants over a hanger and hung it on the rack. “I had to go for a job interview.”

“Where at?”

“At a big firm that does accounting for lots of businesses.”

Marcus slapped his head. “I don't even know what you're talking about! Will you still work at Glory's Place and play basketball?”

Jason hung another pair of pants. “No. It's pretty far from here.”

Marcus was quiet and looked around the department for his mom. “See you later.”

Matt stepped beside Jason holding three ties. “Hey, a special shipment of these ties was due today. Could you see if they're here? These are the last of them we have.”

Jason ran down the stairs and into the shipping department. It was empty. He went through the swinging doors to the mailroom and stopped. “Hold it. Your name is . . . Tina?” She shook her head. “Tonya?” She raised her eyebrows. “Tammy?”

“Close enough. Tamara.”

He snapped his fingers. “Now I remember! I'm looking for a box of ties.” She pointed to a box on the opposite counter. “How's it going down here?”

“I like it,” she said, sorting through a stack of mail in her hands. “You've been gone.”

“I had a job interview.”

She slid envelopes into slots on the wall. “Did you get it?” He nodded. “And you're bursting with excitement!” He laughed and leaned onto the counter. “Are you glad you got it?”

“I thought I would be but I'm all messed up. Ever been like that?”

“You don't even want to go there with me!” She slid more mail into the slots and looked over her shoulder at him. “What's the problem?”

He watched her work and wondered why he would tell her anything but couldn't think of any reason not to tell her everything. He had the sense that she knew far more than he did. “A girl. A woman.”

“Here or there?”

“She's here. The job's there.”

“What does she say?”

He laughed and jumped onto the counter, sitting on top of it. “We've never even been out together.” She stopped working and looked at him. “So what's the problem, right?”

“No, that's a pretty big problem,” she said. “If you go you'll never know, will you?” He nodded. “But if you stay and the whole thing's a bust then you'll kick yourself for what you gave up.”

“Right.”

She picked up another stack of mail and began sorting it. “Jobs are always there and there and over there but the possibility of love is
not
always there.”

“She might not even like me.”

Tamara smiled. “I bet she will.”

He picked up the box and swung open the door. “If I don't see you tomorrow. Hope you have a great Christmas. Are you here or . . .”

“I'm going home,” she said.

 

The lunch crowd fell off a little after one and I remembered the note I'd taken for Rosemary. I went to my locker and pulled the napkin out of my purse. The bulletin board was empty except for the schedule and a solitary note in the middle of the board. I glanced at it as I thumb-tacked the napkin up:
Rosemary, Jason called. Job interview. Can't do coffee. Back Wednesday
. I looked at the note I had scribbled on the napkin, also to Rosemary, and laughed out loud.

“Christine!” Karen was behind me. “There's a woman out here asking for you.”

I yanked the note down off the board and shoved it and the napkin into my apron pocket as I stepped around the corner. Mom was in front of the counter checking out the pastries and wearing a navy blue coat and a green scarf. Her red hair had recently been cut and was cropped short
around her face. “Hey!” I said, running to her. “What are you doing? You were coming in tomorrow. I have to work and I'm not ready!”

She wrapped her arms around me and held on tight. “That's why I came early. Now I can make candy and cookies with the kids and help you get ready for Christmas.” She held me at arm's length. “You look so pretty!”

“An apron always brings out my eyes.”

She slapped my arm and looked into the display case. “This place is great! Cream cheese bear claws? I haven't seen one of those in ages!”

“Sit down and I'll get you one,” I said.

“I don't need a cream cheese bear claw. I just had lunch an hour ago and I want to see my grandchildren.”

“Mom, you haven't gained an ounce in twenty years. Eat the bear claw and then see your grandchildren.” I popped a bear claw into the microwave for a few seconds before setting it and a cup of coffee in front of her.

She took a bite and shook her head. “This is unbelievable. I've never had one this good. Is it made here?”

“All the baked goods are made here. Betty's son came up with that recipe,” I said. She took another bite and I leaned onto the table. “Mom, you are never going to believe what's been happening the last few days.”

“Well, this must be Mom, right?” Betty walked toward me and I nodded.

Mom smiled and turned her head to greet Betty and her eyes bulged. “Elizabeth?”

“Jeanette!” Mom stood and Betty gave her a hug. “Let me wrap my mind around this,” Betty said, looking at her. “You're Christine's mother?”

I sat in the seat and watched them. “You know each other?”

“I worked in Elizabeth's bakery. She taught me everything I know.”

Betty sat down and stared at her. “Jeanette, I swear you're as pretty today as you were at seventeen when you and Dennis were chasing each other around the kitchen.” Mom tried to smile but her face was stricken. “I would have given anything to keep your mother but she and Dennis broke up and I lost my best little baker.” She threw her hands in the air. “What a world! Fast-forward more than twenty-five years later and I'm working with your daughter.” She grabbed my face in her hands. “And she is as delightful as you were. You can be proud of this one.”

“I am,” Mom said.

I was still so confused. “Did you work in
this
town?” I asked. There was so much about my mother's youth that she never talked about.

“Right up the road,” Betty said. “At my first bakery. You and your folks only lived here a couple of years, right?”

“That's right,” Mom said. “Then we moved north.”

“I was so sad to see you go and Dennis was beside himself. He tried to act cool but I knew. He was such a mess at that time. You remember. And it only got worse for a few years.”

Mom poked at the bear claw on her plate. “Where is he now?”

“He had a massive heart attack and died eight years ago.”

Mom was quiet for a while, looking at her. Then she said, “I'm sorry, Elizabeth.”

“You need to call me Betty. Nobody calls me Elizabeth anymore. Betty was much less to pay for on a sign.” She grabbed Mom's hand. “My mind is racing! Did you get married?”

“Yes. My husband will be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“Then you need to bring your dad by as well, Christine,” she said, looking at me.

“Richard's not my dad. Mom married him seven years ago.”

“Well, still bring him by,” she said, throwing her hands in the air again. Craig called to her from behind the counter. He was waving papers in the air. She stood and leaned over to hug Mom. “We
have
to catch up and I
must
tell you wonderful things about your daughter. Duty calls for now.”

“Bye, Betty,” Mom said, watching her walk away. “She hasn't changed.”

“And that's a good thing, right?”

She nodded. “It's great. She's always been one of my favorite people.”

“Mine, too,” I said.

She took another bite of bear claw and pushed the plate away. “Okay, let's keep this excitement rolling along. Where are my grandchildren?”

 

Jason carried the gift boxes that hadn't been picked up and loaded them into the back of Marshall's car. “Are you sure this isn't too many?” Dalton asked.

“No, it's fine,” Jason said. He ran inside the door for the last of the boxes.

“What are you doing?” Zach asked.

“Delivering these boxes for Miss Glory.”

“Can I help you deliver them?”

“You're not allowed to leave the premises. Besides, you'd have a lot more fun here.”

“You're back!” Haley slammed into his legs and hugged them tight. “I saw you this morning when we were walking to the bus stop and I said, ‘He's back. He's back!' ”

“Mom's car died,” Zach said.

“But it was great because we got to ride the bus and an old guy gave Mom flowers,” Haley said.

Jason stopped working and looked at her. “An old guy gave her flowers?”

Haley made a circle with her arms. “A huge bouquet of the world's most beautiful flowers.”

He laughed and gave her a hug. “That is so cool.”

“She was late going to work but I told her that she was
supposed
to be late today so she could get the flowers.”

“That's right,” Jason said, giving her a high five.

The door opened and a blast of wintry air filled the vestibule. “Nana!” Haley shouted. Jason watched Zach and Haley fling themselves into a woman's body and she wrapped them in her arms.

“Hey! What'd Dalton say about not talking to strangers?” Jason said, teasing them.

“This is not a stranger,” Haley said. “This is Nana.”

“I assumed that,” he said, sticking out his hand. “I'm Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“I'm Jeanette,” she said. “My daughter said she'd call so I could take the kids home.”

“Dalton or Heddy probably talked with her,” he said. He waved at Dalton and Jason turned to go, looking at Jeanette. She smiled and he walked out the door.

 

Judy pushed open the office door and smiled when she saw Marshall trying to find something on her computer. “Give up yet?”

“What's wrong with ledgers and paper files?”

“Nothing if you're a Pilgrim,” she said.

He pulled off his glasses. “Is your vacation about over?”

“You're the one who told me to stay home,” she said, sitting on the chair in front of her desk. “So . . . happy anniversary. Did you take the flowers out yet?”

“I was en route with the flowers when I gave them to someone else.”

“To who?” she asked, leaning forward.

“Get that grin off your face. To a young mother on the bus.”

She shook her head and smacked it, trying to compute what he was saying. “What were you doing on the bus?”