Merriest Christmas Ever Read online

  Dad, holding Kirsten on his knee in the armchair, laid his hand over Merett’s and gazed into the multicolored lights. “We did a good job.”

  The three of them. “Mama would be proud.”

  * * *

  Merett left the house with one destination in mind, but when the sign on the Pottery Barn’s door said “Closed Sunday,” he decided to drive to Sunny Haven.

  Feeling surprisingly calm, he checked the directory in the front hall that told him Alice Bradmoore was in West Wing, Room 6. She sat by the window, looking out.

  “Mother?”

  She turned around. The glow in her eyes wasn’t emptiness. It was love. Pure and sweet. “My son.”

  “Mama.” Crossing the room in two long strides, he knelt and folded her into his arms. Unashamed, he let the tears flow.

  She stroked his hair. “I was looking for you. I thought you might be playing outside.”

  “I’m right here, Mama. Right here. I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

  “That’s okay. You couldn’t.” She tipped his chin to look into his eyes. “Always such a handsome boy. And good. Where are the others?”

  “Dad and Kirsten are at home. My wife, Holly, is gone, Mama. She died.” The tears began again, and he buried his face in his mother’s lap.

  She stroked his hair until he grew quiet. Then she took a tissue out of her pocket and dried his tears. “You’re a strong boy. You’ll be all right.”

  Kissing her cheek, he remembered what Kirsten had said. It felt like rose petals, and she smelled of lavender. “I’m better already.”

  * * *

  Gray clouds had given way to huge snowflakes, and Merett had to clean his windshield before he could pull away from Sunny Haven. His mother seemed pleased with the cardinal feeder, although he wasn’t sure she knew what it was. There wasn’t time to hang it outside her window, but he would, next time he went.

  “Round yon virgin, mother and child…”

  “Silent Night” was playing on the car radio, and he didn’t switch the dial. His visit to Mama had healed the hole in his soul. And Mama’s, too. He felt it in his heart. She’d waited for him, and he’d gone to her. Finally.

  The newspaper office was dark except for the golden glow of the star in the window. Unlocking the door, he hurried to his desk, where he took the computer disc containing his annual report from a drawer and tucked it in his coat pocket. The board of directors wanted it before Christmas so they’d have time to approve it by January 1. Tonight, when he and Kirsten got home from Gracie’s, he’d work on it. Even if he took the job in New York, he would leave the Reporter in better shape than when he took over. Even if? He had to decide soon.

  * * *

  Gracie called every roofer in the Ferndale phone book, but none would come on Sunday. After scheduling her week’s work and making a note to call Mrs. Jarvis about the party, she baked. And pondered.

  Frank loved Hope. So what if they’d agreed not to have kids? When he learned he was going to be a father, he’d be thrilled, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t any man? Would Merett? Pinching the crust of a pumpkin pie she was making for dinner into a scalloped edge, Gracie set it on the oven. How would she feel if she were the one having a baby? Merett’s baby. Brushing flour from her hands, she pulled recipes for brownies and lemon bars from her recipe box, and set to work on them.

  With so much to think about, it seemed like no time until she set the last of her baked goods to cool before freezing them for her Open House, and went upstairs to freshen up for Merett.

  Snow was falling, thick and heavy, outside her bedroom window, and to boost her holiday mood, Gracie donned a red skirt and sweater. She was fastening on gold earrings, tiny jingle bells, when Hope phoned again.

  “As if I don’t have enough problems, Faith called to ask for money. Her boyfriend went back to his wife, and Faith needs a place to live.”

  You don’t want me living with him, do you? Gracie felt sick at heart. By turning her sister down, she’d forced her to move in with that…wife-cheater, pervert, whatever.

  “I told her to stand on her own two feet for once. She could go to the employment office for a job, and get a room at the YWCA.”

  “You think I spoiled her, too, don’t you? Just like Mom and Pop said.”

  “It’s not your fault, Grace, so get off that kick.”

  Gracie bristled. Pregnancy certainly wasn’t helping Hope’s disposition. “Did you get Faith’s phone number?”

  “It wouldn’t do any good if I had. She had to move by noon today.” Hope sighed. “You can’t always fix everything for everyone, Grace. I wish you could.”

  * * *

  Gracie wished she could fix things for herself. The roof. The floor. So many things had gone wrong. But when Merett arrived, everything seemed right.

  He handed a white florist box, and she folded back the tissue paper with shaking fingers. “Roses.” She smiled mistily. “My very first.”

  Her first roses, and he’d given them to her. His chest swelled a little, and his arms ached to draw her close, but he wouldn’t with his daughter there.

  “They’re an apology, sort of,” Kirsten said, “for being late.”

  Gracie smiled at him over his daughter’s head, and he knew she knew they were more than that. She never complained about him being late, and when he told her about visiting Mama, she’d be pleased.

  Gracie’s ornaments were new and held no sentimental value, so the trimming of the stairway tree went quickly, but Kirsten lost interest before they were half finished. “I’m going to make Spook something new to wear from the scrap box, if I can find him,” she said, scampering off.

  Merett liked working with Gracie, fingertips brushing, the scent of honeysuckle drifting around them, blending with the aroma of pine. She seemed a little tense, but he attributed it to her upcoming Open House, and tried to keep the conversation light to relax her. When they’d hung the last icicle, she handed Merett a simple star to set atop the tree, and he took advantage of the opportunity. “Tell me again about the tree topper you had when you were a child.”

  She described it in loving detail, and when he plugged in the lights on the tree, she smiled. But a moment later, she bustled to the kitchen, pleasure in her tree short-lived. “We’re having a simple meal. I’ve been busy.” Ducking into the pantry, she returned with some potatoes, and started peeling them.

  “Let me do that,” he offered.

  She handed him the peeler, took hamburger from the refrigerator, and started making patties. She’d insisted over the phone that if he and Kirsten helped with her tree, they must stay for a meal.

  “You don’t always have to cook for me.”

  “I like cooking for people, and I get tired of eating alone.” She formed patties at lightning speed. At the rate she was going, she’d have them cooked before he finished paring the potatoes. Something was bothering her.

  “I hope you don’t mind cheeseburgers and French fries.”

  “Mind?” He let out a whoop, and she eyed him suspiciously. “Cheeseburgers and fries were a tradition at the Bradmoore house the night we decorated our tree.” Her gaze softened, and he laid his peeler down. “I went to see Mama today.”

  “Oh, Merett.” Gracie’s eyes shone with sudden tears. “How was she?”

  “She looked at me, and said, ‘my son.’ I’m not sure she could have said my name, but she knew.” He ducked his head so Gracie couldn’t see his own tears well up, but she cupped his cheek in her hand.

  “I knew you’d go.”

  He sensed admiration in Gracie’s voice, and caring. She would make a wonderful wife for a man who wanted to raise a family in Ferndale. Thinking of her married to one of the guys who went to High with them produced a pang of—jealousy? “Have you ever wanted children, Gracie?”

  She looked at him questioningly, and then turned to gaze out the window. Across the yards, a light glowed in an empty kitchen. “I’ll soon be thirty, and it isn’t good for childr
en to have older parents. My folks were too old when they had us.”

  “My parents were both past thirty when I was born, and I didn’t turn out so bad, did I? And you certainly turned out okay.” He turned her around. “You’re a daughter to make any parents proud.”

  “Well, I didn’t. I was never good enough to please them.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “They never complimented me on my good grades or other accomplishments.”

  He couldn’t imagine that. His parents praised him for everything, especially Mama.

  “They only talked about the things I did wrong.” Like a dam bursting, the words spilled out, all her anguish over Faith, and her parents blaming her when her sister went astray.

  Merett held Gracie close to his heart, stroking her hair. “They weren’t being fair. They were the ones who gave her life. Besides, you left when she was…how old?”

  “Nine.”

  “And you ruined her in nine years? Gracie, I don’t think so.”

  She looked up at him with wet pansy eyes. “She called Hope for help today, and she’s never done that before. She’s given up on me, and Hope turned her down, too. What if Faith feels unloved and unwanted, and does something desperate?”

  “She won’t. She caught onto your parents’ trick of making you feel guilty, so she’s playing it for all its worth. She knew Hope would tell you, and you’d be an easier touch next time around.”

  “Are you crying, Gracie? I think the meat’s burning.”

  She fled to take the skillet off the stove burner. “Thank you, Kirsten.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “I was, a little. I’m worried about Faith, my sister, but I’m sure your daddy’s right; she’ll be okay.”

  “Look at Spook. He’ll make you smile.”

  The cat wore a silk poinsettia on its head, secured with a ribbon. Kirsten had wound a strip of green velvet around his middle. “I love green velvet,” she said, rubbing the cloth. “Especially dark green like this.”

  The jumper Gracie picked for Kirsten was that color. “It’s a beautiful shade,” Merett said.

  Gracie, lifting a hamburger to check the underside, cast Merett a furtive tear-stained smile.

  They ate in companionable silence, with even Kirsten quiet, and afterward, she watched “Frosty the Snowman” on TV in the sitting room while Merett helped clean up. “My daughter lost a fry or two on the floor. Where’s the broom, Gracie?”

  “On the porch.” She looked up from the kitchen sink to grin. “I’ve been using it to clean the walks.”

  The broom handle was cold, and Merett was sweeping briskly beneath the table when an envelope slid across the floor. He picked it up. “Here’s an unopened letter.”

  Gracie dried her hands and took it from him. “I dropped the mail when Hope called.” Gracie looked at Merett, worry etched across her lovely face. “This is confidential, but she thinks she’s pregnant.”

  “And that’s not good news?”

  “Sadly, no. She wants children, but says Frank will be so mad, he’ll leave her. Surely, he won’t.” Gracie held the envelope up to the light. “I wonder what this is.”

  “Why don’t you open it?”

  “It’s from the Zoning Board.” She turned the letter over in her hands, and eased the flap open. Looking into the envelope, she chewed her lip. “The way my day’s gone, it probably says they’re making this a higher tax zone.”

  “I don’t believe the zoning commission does that,” Merett said, squeezing her shoulder. “Read it.”

  Gracie scanned the thin sheet of paper, and gasped. “It says I can’t run a business here because this is a residential zone.” She grabbed his arm. “They can’t make me close Special Effects, can they?”

  “I’m not sure.” He honestly feared they could.

  “Oh, Merett.” She burst into tears. “First the roof. Now, this.”

  “What’s the matter with the roof?”

  Sinking down on a kitchen chair, Gracie buried her face in her hands. Kneeling before, he patted her knee. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Yes it can.” She nodded hard, and her tiny jingle bell earrings rang, reminding him that he’d yelled at her over the bells on the stair rail at home. He’d made her think she’d done a poor job, just as her parents had. He stroked her cheek. “I have an open house coming up with fifty invitations in the mail, the drawing room roof is leaking, and now, the zoning board wants to shut me down.”

  He picked her up and sat down, folding her into his lap. He kissed her hair and rubbed her back. “It will be okay, sweetheart.” He kissed the tears away from her cheeks. Kissed her eyelids. She parted her lips, her eyes eager, like a child wanting to trust. He’d do anything, everything, he could to help her. “Just take it from the top, and look at each thing in a positive fashion. Okay?” She nodded and clenched her hands in her lap. “Start with Faith and look at the bright side.”

  Gracie smiled faintly. “She’ll call again, she always does.”

  “Okay, you’re off to a good start. Next problem?”

  Gracie traced her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Frank, unless he’s totally heartless, will come around. If he doesn’t, Hope will at least have a child.” Gracie’s sudden smile lit the room. “She and the baby could come here to live.”

  Merett didn’t think that would lighten Gracie’s burdens any, but he nodded, noting her eyes lit up at the word baby. “What else? The roof? I have a friend who’s a roofer. I’ll see if I can get him here tomorrow.”

  “The zoning commission is the biggest problem, but I’m not hurting this neighborhood with my business, and the notice said I can appeal.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Merett took her hand and held it to his lips.

  “But my open house is only six days away, and I’d planned to take orders, make sales, schedule jobs. Would that be allowed if my case was under appeal?”

  “I don’t know,” he confessed. “Your brother-in-law is an attorney, isn’t he?”

  “You think I need one?” Gracie looked as if she might cry again.

  “I don’t know, but Frank will.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him. He’s selfish and making Hope’s life miserable.”

  That didn’t seem relevant in the face of disaster. Maybe he could talk to Frank for her. “It’s awfully quiet,” Merett said, as last.

  They found Kirsten asleep on the couch. “I should take her home.”

  Gracie laid her hand on his arm. “I could use company a bit longer.”

  “Is there a place I could move Kirsten to, so we can have the couch?”

  “Upstairs on my bed. There’s only one other furnished bedroom, and it’s been closed, so it’s probably cold.” She trailed him upstairs to turn back the satin comforter, and Merett, laying Kirsten down on soft flowered sheets, imagined Gracie curled up there, with him beside her.

  She lingered to take off Kirsten’s shoes and kiss her forehead, and he pictured her putting his daughter to bed nightly, listening to her prayers, tucking her in.

  * * *

  Merett and Gracie sat, knees touching, hands clasped, watching a sit-com on TV. They were laughing when a weather bulletin broke into the programming. “A major winter storm warning is now in effect.”

  Gracie rushed to the window, and he pulled the curtain back to stand beside her. “It’s dumped at least six inches since I got here,” he gasped.

  “Roads leading in and out of Ferndale are drifting over,” the weather reporter was saying. “Roads presently impassable are Johnson County, Potter Shop and—”

  “Potter Shop? We can’t get home.” Merett raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d better call Dad. Maybe it’s a mistake.”

  Gracie laid her hand on his arm. “I doubt it, Merett. Look out front. There’s snow up to Old Blue’s hub caps.”

  “The Jeep can plow through that easily.”

  “Probably, but Potter Shop runs north-south, and the forecaster
said winds out of the west were causing drifts.”

  Merett opened the front door, and a pile of snow fell in.

  “Winds out of the west,” Gracie said dryly. “I’ll get the broom.”

  When she came back, he swept the snow out. “I’m sorry, Grace. The last thing you need is overnight guests.”

  She brushed snow from his hair. “I asked you not to leave.”

  “That half hour wouldn’t have made a difference. I was just oblivious. I didn’t notice the wind howling, did you?”

  Gracie shook her head. “I was busy feeling sorry for myself.” She cupped her hand against his cheek. “Then, you lifted my spirits with your incredible optimism.”

  “You have me mixed up with a kid you knew fifteen years ago.”

  Shaking her head, she traced his lips with her finger tip. “That same guy is standing here now, and the optimist inside him is fighting his way out. Look how much you helped me tonight.”

  She’d solved most of her own problems while he listened, but her finger on his lips was doing incredible things to his body. He darted his tongue out to taste her skin.

  “You can sleep on the couch,’ she said softly, “and Kirsten can sleep with me.”

  “I’d rather it was the other way around.”

  Her eyes said she wished it too, but she hurried upstairs to fetch him a blanket and pillow. He was hanging up from phoning his father when she returned to lay them on the couch. “I hope you’ll be warm enough.”

  He took her by the wrist and pulled her nearer. “You could keep me warm for a while.”

  “Not with Kirsten upstairs.” So she didn’t trust herself any more than he trusted himself. “I always shut Spook in the half bath under the stairs at night. Try not to let him out if you go in there.”

  Merett, thinking about locking himself in the bathroom with Gracie, began to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes darted to his chest. He unbuttoned two more buttons. Her eyes widened. He loosened the last one, and let his shirt fall to the floor. Gulping, she fled.