The Christmas Secret (7 page)

“They don't even like to play outside when it's cold,” I said. An image crossed my mind and I sat forward. “On Saturday, I was helping a woman in the driveway and they did run out for a moment but I told them to get back inside. It was only for a second.” In a brief instant I imagined Mrs. Meredith standing at her window and watching. Maybe she was home after all. Maybe Brad came to the house later in the day and she was outside getting her mail and told him all about it. How else would he know?

Patricia jotted more notes on her pad and walked through the hallway. “Can I say hello to the children?”

I jumped up and ran to her side, opening Zach's door. The room was a mess; his bed was unmade and toys and clothes littered the floor. I walked to the bed and pulled up the sheet and blankets, tucking them under the mattress. Patricia stood inside the door and watched them.

Haley noticed her and leaped up, holding Brown Dog. “Do you like dogs?” she asked.

“I love dogs,” Patricia said. “I have one real one and about a gazillion stuffed ones.”

“What are their names?” Haley asked.

Patricia laughed. “The real one's name is Girl and you'd have to ask my daughters what the stuffed ones are named because I can't keep up with them.” I moved around the room and picked up toys, tossing them into the laundry basket we used as a toy box.

“Did you have fun on Thanksgiving break?” Patricia asked.

“No homework,” Zach said. “I hate homework.”

“I never liked it, either,” Patricia said. She sat on the edge of Zach's bed. “How about you, Haley? Do you have homework?”

“Well,” Haley said, looking up at her. “My teacher tells us to write our letters all the time and I hate that. Mom makes me sit at the table and write them and I am so bored with that.” She grabbed Long Ears and Little Baby and pulled them into her lap. “I do not like writing letters and I do not
like math center.” She waved her hand in the air. “Way too many blocks to count.”

“I never cared for math myself,” Patricia said. “Are you ready for Christmas?”

“I'm always ready for Christmas,” Haley said.

“What presents do you want?”

“Star command building set,” Zach said. “You can make spaceships and all sorts of docking ports and stuff out of it.”

“Wow,” Patricia said. “That sounds way over my head. How about you, Haley?”

She didn't have to think. “Wings. So I can fly. I fly all the time at night but I need wings to help me fly during the day.”

Patricia smiled. “I bet you'll look just like a princess fairy.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “She already
thinks
she's a princess fairy.”

Patricia stood and stepped over the toys. “I'll get out of the way so you can keep playing. Bye.” The kids waved and I followed her back into the living room. “Thank you, Angela. I know this wasn't comfortable for you.”

A wave of urgency rushed to my chest and I was frightened about what she might write in her report. “I love my kids, Mrs. Addison.” My heart throbbed and a tear pooled in the corner of my eye as I reached for the doorknob. “I would never do
anything
to hurt them. I don't know what
any of this means. I don't know what Brad will do next but you need to know that I will fight him with everything I have for those two kids.” I wiped my face and nose with the back of my hand and opened the door.

She stepped outside and turned to me. “I've been doing this for a long time,” she said. I wasn't sure how to take that. “I know the difference between mess and filth. I know when kids feel secure and when they feel unloved.” She smiled and for the first time since she arrived I took a breath. Her shoes clacked on the sidewalk and she tossed her head around, stopping. “If you're ever in a jam again you should call Glory's Place. It's a place for single moms and kids and people who need help. They'll take good care of your kids.”

I pulled the door closed behind me so the kids wouldn't hear. “What's next, Mrs. Addison?”

She put her hand over her eyes to see me in the sun. “I'll file my report.” She paused and looked up into the tree that towered over the sidewalk. “And then it's up to your ex-husband.”

I sighed. It never ended. “Do I have to let him see them next weekend?”

She pulled sunglasses from her purse and slid them on her face. “No,” she said. She paused and I wondered if she was stepping out on a limb, telling me more than she should. “Different states have different rules but due to his negligence
in paying child support, I don't think there's a judge in this state that would force you to do that.” She threw her hand in the air and I watched as she got into her car and backed down the driveway.

I pushed open the door and moved to the kitchen, assessing the maze of cups and saucers, crayons and coloring books on the countertop. Why couldn't I ever get ahead of anything? Why did it always feel like my life was lived in a cycle of fight, breathe, pick up, put away, fight, breathe, pick up, put away? The morning programs and evening news were filled with pictures and stories of horror and fear, the papers were crammed with worry and dread, homes were fractured, the court dockets were packed with people who hated one another, and the God of my mother seemed powerless to help. Where was the hope in any of that? Where was the help?

I didn't know that it was there, right in the middle of the road, waiting.

 

Marshall stepped into the office and Jason leaned back in the chair. “I have no idea how Judy navigates through this antiquated software or even
why
she does,” he said. He leaned forward and grabbed the mouse, staring at the computer screen. “How is she today?”

“She needs two or three stents,” Marshall said, hanging his jacket on the rack. “She'll get them today.”

“Before I forget . . . a guy from security came up here looking for you.”

Marshall cuffed the sleeve of his denim shirt. “Who in security and what did he want?”

Jason shrugged, reading something on the computer. “I didn't get his name.”

“Why not?” Marshall asked, annoyed.

Jason looked up from the screen. “I didn't think—” He stopped.

Marshall waited for him to finish. “What? You didn't think it was import—?”

“No,” Jason said, cutting him off. “I just assumed he'd either—”

“Do you listen when someone speaks or just wait for your turn to talk?”

Jason paused, waiting. “I just assumed he'd come back or call you.”

“What's the greeter's name at the front of the store today?”

Jason shrugged, thinking. “I came in the back way today.”

Marshall stepped up to his office and pulled open a file drawer. “I need you to take a quiz,” he said. “It's information about the store.” He sat at his desk and stapled two sheets of paper together, writing something at the bottom of the second sheet. “If you pass this you'll receive your check for the
week.” He delivered the test to Jason. “If you don't, I'll keep your check until you do pass it.”

Jason took the papers from his grandfather, smiling. “You're kidding, right? I've been running around this store since I was a kid. I'm pretty sure I know everything there is to know.”

“You probably do,” Marshall said. “But this is something new employees always take and you are a new employee.”

Jason put the test in front of him and grabbed a pencil, reading the first question out loud. “When was Wilson's established?” He wrote “1969” and looked up at Marshall. “The fortieth anniversary banner in the front window kind of gives that away.” Marshall smiled and stepped up to his office. Jason's pencil flew over the page:
The building was originally a mercantile in the early 1900s, then a law firm, the town library, and a bank in the fifties
. He'd heard his grandparents talk about the building for years.
Marshall and Linda Wilson, store founders
. Jason thought this was ridiculous. A plaque with the store mission hung on the wall in front of him and he laughed as he copied it onto the paper. Jason turned the paper over for the tenth question: What is the name of our maintenance supervisor? “What?” Jason said, flipping the paper over to look for more questions. “Whatever.” He scribbled the name
Ted
down and took the quiz to Marshall.

Marshall put on his reading glasses and scanned the test. “You remembered everything about the building,” he said.
“That's impressive.” He turned the paper over, glanced at the name for the tenth question, and threw the sheets on his desk. “I'll be keeping your check.”

“Why? Because of that last question? I know you don't do that for regular employees.”

Marshall flipped open a product catalog on his desk. “You're not a regular employee.”

Jason laughed. “Why should I know his name?”

“Why shouldn't you?”

“Okay, obviously I would know his name if I was here longer.”

Marshall walked to his filing cabinet and stuck the catalog somewhere in the back of it. “Would you? What's the lady's name who lugged your suitcase through the store for you?”

Jason shook his head and laughed. “Denise.”

“Wrong,” Marshall said. “She has a name. Learn it. Learn who the head of maintenance is.” Marshall handed the quiz to Jason. “You can try again in a few days. I'm headed down to security and I need you to pick up Judy's car from Patterson's.”

“Why is her car there?” Jason asked, annoyed. First he was taking a ridiculous test and then running errands.

“The woman who gave Judy CPR drove her car there.”

“Why?”

Marshall picked up a stack of mail and sifted through it.

“Because she had the frame of mind to think that Judy probably wouldn't remember the address of where she was when she had her heart attack. She took the time to be nice!” He ripped up an envelope and threw it away. “Judy said she's a waitress named Christy. Could you please find her and get some contact information? Judy and Dave want to thank her.” Marshall looked over his glasses, dangling Dave's keys to Judy's car in front of him. “Did you catch all that?”

Jason's face was vacant. “You mean you want me to go now?”

“Before someone decides to tow her car.” Jason grabbed his jacket and opened the door with a huff. Marshall picked up the phone and dialed, pressing the receiver to his ear. “Linda? I think Jason just might drive me crazy.”

 

Before lunch I pulled a sweatshirt over my head and threw on a pair of jeans. I needed to pick up my last check at Patterson's. I held Zach's coat out in front of him.

“I don't want to go,” he said.

“Neither do I,” I said. “But I need to deposit that check.”

“Why?”

He continued to play with his plastic action figures and I lifted his arm and put a sleeve of his coat over it. “If I don't deposit it I'm going to bounce some checks.” I shoved the other sleeve over his arm and he flung the coat off in one
quick motion. I was too weary to deal with this kind of stuff. “Put it back on, Zach.”

“I don't want to go.”

I held the coat in front of him again. “Zachary, why do you argue with me every step of the way? Put this coat on and get in the car.” He yanked it from me and held it in front of him, determined not to wear it.

“I'm wearing my coat,” Haley said, watching us.

I looked up and saw her wearing purple pants shoved down in rain boots, a red princess dress, and a denim jacket with Minnie Mouse embroidered on the front. “Thank you, Haley,” I said, pulling Zach's coat from him. “It's too cold to go outside without a coat. Please put it on.” He snatched it from me and slipped his arms into it.

All the parking spaces were taken in front of Patterson's so I pulled into one across the street from Wilson's Department Store. Someone was busy outside the fire station hanging a swag of evergreen from one window to the other. An older woman was decorating the three fir trees in the square, hanging enormous bulbs from the branches. I noticed a woman sitting on a bench in the park and thought it was unusual to just
sit
on such a cold day. Maybe she was there to help the woman decorate the trees but she wasn't paying attention to the work being done behind her. It struck me as odd and I sat in my car and watched her, waiting for her to move.

“Can we go look at toys, Mom?” Haley asked when she saw a display of dolls and trains and stuffed animals in Wilson's front window.

I turned the car off, shaking my head. I never shopped at Wilson's. There was never enough time or money. “Not today,” I said, opening my car door. “I need to deposit my check.”

“How long does that take?” Zach asked. “Can't we look at them for a few minutes?”

It seemed I was always saying no to them. I had no desire to look at toys but said, “Let me pick up my check first.”

 

Jason pulled open the door to Patterson's and stepped into the crowded waiting area. He excused his way through the lunch crowd and waited for the hostess. A young girl with sweat on her upper lip walked breathlessly back to her stand and crossed a name off her list. “I'm looking for Christy,” Jason said, leaning his head toward her.

“Is she already here?” the hostess asked, grabbing three menus from their holder on the side of her station. “You can go look for her.” She craned her neck and yelled over Jason's head, “Gerald! Party of three!”

“She's not a customer,” Jason said. “She's a waitress.”

“No, she's not,” the hostess said. She looked at the next name and yelled over Jason's head, “Fitz! Party of four!”

“I was told Christy works here,” Jason said, emphasizing each word for her. “She drove that gray car right out there,” he said, pointing, “and parked it here on Saturday.”