The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (5 page)

~~~~

Mitch compared the
two boxes of macaroni and cheese. One was a lot
lighter than the other, and it had a packet of powdered cheese. The
other was larger and heavier and contained cheese spread. It cost
more than the other one, but the directions seemed a lot easier.
Could he ever hope to manage this cooking thing? He supposed he’d
better try. He tossed both packages in the cart. He’d do the easy
one tonight and save the other one for later.

Next, he needed some vegetables. Something
to go with the macaroni and cheese. Something that didn’t involve
reading directions. He headed to the produce section. Seemed like
he’d read somewhere that fresh fruits and vegetables were healthier
than canned. They sure tasted better, he knew. But what could he
give a six-year-old? She liked carrot sticks. Better grab a bag.
Nice and easy. And maybe some beans. He knew she liked green beans
because she ate them up whenever they were served. If he remembered
correctly, they just needed to be boiled for a while. So that took
care of a couple of nights. His gaze caught the bagged salads. Ah.
Salad in a bag. Just pour salad dressing on top. Easy. Doable.
Three bags went into the cart.

His mom would be so ashamed to see he’d
turned out so lousy at cooking. Rita Carson had raised her three
sons and daughter to be self-sufficient. They’d all been expected
to do their own laundry and clean up and take turns in the kitchen.
For the most part, her lessons had stuck. He kept the house fairly
neat. He and Angie wore clean clothes. But cooking remained a
mystery. He always managed to mess up even the simplest meals. Good
thing Angie wasn’t picky.

Pushing the cart around the display of
onions, his cart bumped another head-to-head. He uttered an apology
before he recognized Sophie.

“
Good morning, Miss
Sophie.”

She turned those wide green eyes toward him.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Carson.”

His eyebrows rose. “Mitch, please. Mr.
Carson is my dad.”

The luscious eyes twinkled as her lips
curved upward.

“
Okay, Mitch. I’m Sophie.
Only the kids call me Miss Sophie.”

He nodded. “Point taken. So, uh, how is the
big Christmas show coming along?”

Her smile faded a bit. Had he put his foot
in his mouth?

“
I’m going to have to do
some rewriting, I think. And… I’m not used to working with kids.
But it’ll be great. Angie’s a real sweetheart. I hope she wasn’t
put off by all the time I had to spend dealing with those
boys.”

“
No, she really enjoyed it.
She can’t wait to practice again on Sunday. So does this mean I
pick her up later than before?”

“
No, I work with the kids
during the first half of the regular Sunday School hour, so she’ll
get out at the same time as usual.”

“
Got it.” He paused, not
wanting the conversation to end, but unsure how to continue. When
had he ever been so awkward with a female?

“
Uh, so… can I buy you a
cup of coffee?”

Her look of surprise had him backpedaling.
His mind scrambled to find a reasonable topic of conversation. “I…
um, I thought maybe you’d have some ideas of people who could take
care of Angie.”

She seemed to accept that. “Sure. Let’s go
to the café. I could use a good cup of coffee.” She led the way to
the store’s coffee kiosk. They put in their orders, and Mitch
noticed she stuck to a basic cup of black coffee.

“
No flavorings, stir-ins,
or whipped cream?” he teased.

“
Maybe later. I like
creamer, especially flavored ones, but right now I’m still trying
to wake up, so plain old coffee will do the trick.”

“
I like plain old coffee
when I’m working on my photos.”

“
Amy Michaels was really
happy with the way you handled her kids during her family’s
sitting. Is business picking up?”

“
Not as much as I’d like.
I’ve got the Reinharts tomorrow, so I’m hoping they and the
Michaels family will spread the word about my studio.”

“
Why don’t you try
something different? I’ve seen studios advertise something called a
mini-session. Just fifteen minutes, and the customer gets a CD with
like ten or fifteen images they can use on Christmas cards or as
gifts. Since you don’t have as much time invested, you can charge
less.”

“
That sounds like a great
idea. If I get a bunch of those booked, I’ll definitely need help
in the evenings.”

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled, and he
hoped his return smile wasn’t as goofy as it felt. “So, let’s take
a seat and I’ll give you the low down on the teenagers in the
area.”

“
Right.” He spied a small
table and carried their drinks to it. She raised a brow when he
pulled out a chair, but said nothing as she sat. Curiosity finally
got the best of him.

“
You know, that’s the
second time you’ve looked at me as if I’ve done something strange.
Apparently, opening the car door for you isn’t normal, and neither
is pulling out your chair. Is that not done in Michigan? Should I
give up those habits?”

“
NO!”

Mitch nearly jumped out of his chair at the
force of her answer. And then he realized she hadn’t spoken alone.
The barista who’d poured their coffee, as well as two other women
seated in the cafe tables around them had echoed Sophie’s
answer.

An elderly woman seated behind him tapped
him on the shoulder. “Young man, you’ve been raised with good
manners, and you should never give them up. If Sophie was surprised
when you opened doors and pulled her seat out, it’s because she’s
grown up with young boys who don’t know how to treat a lady. She
deserves the best, so you just keep right on doing what you
do.”

“
Yeah, and maybe some of
the men around here can learn something,” the barista
added.

The other ladies in the area nodded in
agreement. Mitch nodded too, his ears burning. He hadn’t realized
his voice had carried and he murmured an apology to Sophie, who
looked anything but embarrassed. She seemed fascinated with her
coffee, having it raised to her lips, but her shaking shoulders
told him she’d enjoyed his discomfort.

“
Okay, I’m going to speak
quietly,” he said through his teeth. “I’ve got my notes app open on
my phone and whenever you’re done laughing, I’m ready to write down
the names of those potential babysitters and their phone numbers,
if you have them.”

Sophie set her cup down. Her twinkling eyes
were all that remained of her laughing fit. “Right. There’s Brenda
Lou Hodges, who lives around the corner from you…”

Mitch typed as quickly as he could. Before
he knew it, he had a half dozen names of junior and senior high
girls Sophie knew and trusted. The younger ones lived close enough
to walk over if necessary.

“
And if none of them work,
there’s always me. Until Christmas, anyway.”

The phone dropped to the table. “Until
Christmas? What happens then?”

“
Hopefully I’ll be moving
to Los Angeles.”

“
Wh— oh, do you have a job
lined up there?”

She faltered. “Not yet.”

“
You have family there?
Friends? A boyfriend?” Hopefully she hadn’t caught the crack in his
voice at the last word.

“
None of the above,” she
answered. “Well, an ex-boyfriend, but that doesn’t
count.”

“
So, uh, what are your
plans?” He gave himself another mental slap. Why did he always
sound like his father when he was with her?

“
I’m getting my portfolio
ready, and I’ll be contacting agents soon. Hopefully I’ll be able
to work on a show and write scripts. And eventually I’d like to
write screenplays.”

“
Oh, that’s — great,” Mitch
finished. His stomach churned, and he placed his hand on it.
Must be the omelet I ate this morning. Maybe I
didn’t cook those eggs long enough. There’s no way I could be so
worked up about her leaving.
“Well, good
luck with that.”

“
Thanks. Well, thanks for
the coffee. I’ve got to get this stuff home to Joanie.” She got up
and started to push her cart toward the checkout lanes then turned
back. “I’m serious about watching Angie. She’s a doll, and it would
be no burden at all to take care of her. She pointed to his phone.
“Take my number down, too.”

He complied, and then watched her hurry
away.

It’s a good thing I hadn’t
started investing any feelings in her
, he
thought.
She’s leaving.

But deep down, he knew it was probably too
late.

~~~~

A few tables
away, a scruffy-looking man hunched over his
coffee, the brim of his hat covering his eyes. He pretended to read
the newspaper in front of him, but his ears were tuned to the
conversation between the photographer and the pretty young girl. So
he was looking for babysitters. That might be worth reporting. If
he needed childcare, that meant either business was picking up for
him — or he was starting to have a social life. Either one could be
news for his client.

This two-bit town was starting to bug him.
There was nothing to do there for fun. The little mom-and-pop hotel
in the next town was clean, but that’s about all he could say about
it. Hopefully he’d be able to get whatever his pain-in-the-neck
client wanted soon so he could go back to Chicago where he
belonged. Why anyone would want to live on the outskirts of
civilization was beyond him.

S
ophie sat at
attention on the edge of
the dainty sofa in Agnes VanMeter’s spotless living room. The china
teacup perched on the saucer in her lap, and she held on with both
hands, terrified of spilling. She’d never used a real teacup
before. Her parents and sister used mugs. Grandma had used china
cups on very special occasions, but only with “grownups” and she’d
never managed to attain that status in Grandma’s eyes. Come to
think of it, her sister hadn’t either, even though Joanie had been
in her mid-twenties when Grandma died. This place even smelled like
Grandma’s house, although it was a fairly new building. Mrs.
VanMeter lived in a retirement complex in Holland, a twenty minute
drive from Zutphen.

She focused on the tiny
woman seated across from her. Strange, but Mrs. VanMeter hadn’t
seemed so tiny when she’d been her fourth grade teacher. Back then
she’d been terrified of the woman, and so had the rest of the
class. There hadn’t been any such thing as discipline problems.
Nobody dared misbehave.
Maybe that’s why
this place is so clean,
Sophie mused. Dust
wouldn’t dare settle on any of her furniture.

“
I was so pleased to hear
from you, Sophie. I understand you’ve graduated from Grand Valley
State.”

“
Yes, Mrs.
VanMeter.”

“
And Joanie tells me you’re
helping her out with the family, as well as the church Sunday
School Christmas Program.”

“
Yes, ma’am. In
fact—”

“
And how are your parents
doing?”

“
They’re fine. Living in a
condo not far from here.”

“
Excellent. Now that we’ve
dispensed with the niceties, why don’t you tell me what I can do
for you?”

Gulp. Show time. “Mrs. VanMeter, I need your
advice on handling the kids in the Sunday School program. Most of
them are angels, but some of the boys — well, two
specifically—”

“
The Longton
twins?”

Sophie blinked then closed her gaping mouth.
The teacup rattled in her hands and she held it tighter. “Yes,
ma’am.”

The elder woman sighed. “Poor Peggy DeSmit.
I knew Lyle Longton was trouble the minute he came into my class.
But once he turned his attention on Peggy, she was lost. And even
now that Lyle is gone, those two boys of his are like having him in
stereo.”

“
Yes, ma’am. They come into
the church running and yelling, and they never stop. At the first
rehearsal last Wednesday, they knocked over chairs with kids in
them. Then when I told them to sit down, they ran headfirst into
each other. Doc VanEss was there and checked them out, but when he
sent them back to practice, they ran through the sanctuary and tore
down the draperies behind the pulpit. Sam had to chase them out of
the broom closet twice, and they raced each other all through the
pews before four members of the consistory managed to corral
them.”

“
Goodness, they’re worse
than I thought! Who brings them to practice?
”

“
Their Grandmother Longton.
I’m told she takes care of them three days a week while Peggy
works. On Sunday mornings their mother brings them, and they don’t
seem to be quite as bad. That’s because all the Sunday School
teachers are there with me. On Wednesday nights I’m on my own until
Mabel Groendyk, the pianist, comes, but that won’t be until
December.”

“
Martha Longton brings them
to practice? Hmm. I think I have an idea. Martha is a prize-winning
baker, and she loves those boys. I have a feeling she spoils them
and fills them full of sugar before they come.”

“
What can I do? I can’t
control what they eat before they come.”

“
No, you can’t, but you can
give them some incentives to behave. I watched part of your first
practice with them last week. I was coming out of the Ladies’ Aid
Society meeting and heard you in the choir room. You had those kids
engaged because you had a plan, and you didn’t have any down time.
The kids were moving — which is what kids that age need to do.
Build more things like that into your rehearsals, and they’ll
behave. Especially when you tell them that if they don’t behave,
you’ll take the fun things out of the show.”