A Fairytale Christmas (9 page)

“Talk about passive-aggressive,” Gwen said when she was done. “I can’t believe your boss buys her act.”

“Worse, the guy I’m supposed to work with, Oliver Harrington, has major attitude issues. He absolutely hates the idea of throwing this party and refuses to cooperate.”

“Sounds like a piece of work.”

“Oh, he is.” Gill flopped on the sofa. “Sad thing is, without the superiority complex he’d probably be a nice guy. He’s
certainly dedicated to the center. I’m not certain, but I think he might actually live there.”

“A workaholic? Sounds like you two have something in common.”

“Hardy, har-har.” She wasn’t that big a workaholic. Just goal-oriented. “I just wish I knew what made him so angry. I mean, I get the whole frustrated nonprofit thing, but his attitude goes a lot deeper.”

“Maybe he got burned once upon a time by some big bad donor?”

“He did say they were having budget issues. And Peter McNabb hasn’t exactly been paying attention to the center the past few years.” She tossed another piece of popcorn in the air. “Except for a little while, he acted more like he was mad at me personally, and for the life of me I don’t know what I did.”

“Maybe you look like his ex-wife?”

“You’re a laugh riot tonight, sis. Maybe you ought to chuck the Christmas tree business for standup comedy.”

“And
you
need some sleep. You always get cranky when you’re tired. Sounds like this guy’s gotten under your skin.”

“More like
on
my skin, like a big old rash. I can tell right now he’s going to give me a hard time with this whole project.”

“You can always quit and join us down here, selling Christmas trees.”

“I’m sure Drew would love that.”

“Seriously, why not visit for the weekend? Claire would love to see her Aunt Gilly. Lord knows we could use the help. From the buzz in town, this might be our busiest year yet.”

“Everyone’s looking for a piece of Teaberry magic,” Gill joked. “Hoping to have their Christmas wish granted.”

“Why not? It worked for me and Drew,” Gill replied.

No, thought Gwen, love, timing and effort had worked for them. Whatever magic Gwen and Drew had found, they’d made it for themselves. They still made magic. Gill didn’t think she’d ever seen two people more in love or more happy. As if they’d been waiting their whole lives to find each other.

Suddenly a heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Guess popcorn for dinner wasn’t a good idea after all.

“I’d love to see you guys, but with this last-minute project I’m swamped. Plus, if I have any hope of getting this promotion….”

“Say no more. I understand,” Gwen replied. “That’s the price I pay for having a high-powered executive for a sister.”

“I’m not a high-powered executive yet.”

“You will be. You always succeed when you put your mind to something. Remember when Mr. Delphino said he didn’t think you could handle advanced chemistry?”

“I remember studying my butt off day and night.”

“Finishing with the highest grade in the class. You make things happen, Gill.”

Yes, she did. That was how it had always been. Gwen was the romantic dreamer; Gill was the doer. Not that she’d had much of choice, what with their mother working day and night, and dear old Dad… Well, better to take a page from his book and wipe him from her memory.

Her stomach got a little heavier.

“Too bad you won’t put that mind to making something happen in your personal life,” Gwen continued.

Back to that, were they? Her sister could be a real broken record sometimes. Gill told her as much.

“Can’t help it. I want you to be as happy as Drew and I are.”

“I
am
happy. I have the career I always wanted, a great apartment, you guys… What more could I want?”

“You want the long or the short list?”

“Neither, thank you. What I really need is a favor.” Clearing her throat, she set down the popcorn and sat up a little straighter. “I need you to ship a little Teaberry magic up north.”

“You need a Christmas tree?”

“Not
just
a Christmas tree. The most amazing Christmas tree you’ve got.” She started explaining, and Gwen quickly caught on to her plan. Score one for the twin connection. By the time the call ended they’d come up with one amazing tree.

Gill hung up feeling a little better. Talking to Gwen never failed to cheer her up.

But as she lay back and studied the Christmas lights on her mini-tree it wasn’t her sister she was thinking about. It was Oliver Harrington. No way he’d be able to keep that chip on his shoulder now. He was going to be blown away.

She couldn’t wait.

“W
E’RE
low on lights.”

Gill squinted up at the decorator standing on the scaffolding.

“Are you sure this is all we can use?” he asked.

“Positive. I don’t want to take a chance on blowing any circuits.” Further incurring Oliver’s wrath. “Lord knows when they last upgraded their electrical system.”

Gill had expected quite a different reaction from him when he came in today. She’d been disappointed to find him out this morning, but Maria had said he’d spent the last two days dealing with a plumbing crisis and was home catching some much needed sleep.

It surprised her how
off
the center felt without him. There was an emptiness in the air. Not that she missed him. She was simply aware of his absence.

On the other hand, having him gone made installing the tree easier. She’d be able to surprise him with it fully decorated. Why impressing him had become so important she wasn’t sure, other than knowing his cooperation would make her job easier. His disapproval was so damn frustrating. The way he glared at her, as if she was the enemy in high heels.

“Done!” the decorator hollered down. “I still think we need more lights…”

“No, it’s perfect.”

Gwen and Drew had outdone themselves. Decked from trunk to tip with ribbons and poinsettias, the tree was a magnificent sight of red and gold. And even without a lot of lights the tree sparkled. The crystal decorations caught the light from the windows, creating their own twinkling reflection. Gill got a giddy shiver. She couldn’t wait for the rest of the center to see it.
For Oliver to see it.

Gwen’s note was clipped to her clipboard.

Leave it to her sister to turn a business transaction whimsical. Still, if by “magic” she meant the tree would bring Oliver’s goodwill and cooperation, then Gill would take it.

“Wow!” Maria’s voice sounded behind her. “So this is why you needed to get in here at the crack of dawn. That thing looks bigger than the one at City Hall.”

“Being inside makes it look bigger.”

“Maybe. It looks huge. Smells good, too.”

“Doesn’t it?” A fresh pine scent filled the community room. If Gill closed her eyes she could picture Christmas morning. Claire, her niece, tearing open presents with toddler enthusiasm. Brody engrossed in the latest video game. Gwen and Drew cuddling on the sofa. Her sitting by the fire.

Alone.

A sudden wave of longing swept over her, not unlike the emptiness that filled the center. Gill frowned. This was because of Gwen’s note and her romanticism. They’d put weird thoughts into her head.

“Looks like they’ll finish decorating before Oliver returns. Do you think he’ll be surprised?” she asked Maria.

Odd how he was her next thought. On the other hand, why wouldn’t he be? She’d gotten this tree for him. That was, to win him over.

“He’ll be something, that’s for sure,” the volunteer replied.

“There are matching decorations for the foyer and the rest of the building, too. Enough to deck out the whole place.”

“Wow.”

Maria sounded blown away. Exactly the reaction Gill had hoped for. Now just let Oliver have the same reaction when he arrived later. Absentmindedly she played with the end of a branch. “Christmas magic, do your stuff,” she murmured.

“What the hell—?”

At the sound of Oliver’s voice, she whirled around with a grin. “Surprise!”

Oliver stood like a guardian sentinel in the doorway. The atmosphere, she noticed, had returned to normal with his arrival. “What is
that?
” he asked.

She grinned wider. “The center’s Christmas tree. What do you think?”

He set down the bags of supplies he’d been carrying and stepped closer. Unlike their last meeting, when he’d been in corduroys and a sweater, today he was dressed for hard labor. His jeans were paint-splattered and worn, as was his heavy zippered sweatshirt and a flannel shirt. A faded Red Sox cap topped his head. Normally Gill didn’t get the whole construction worker fascination, but now seeing Oliver, she kind of understood better.

“I thought you went home to sleep,” Maria commented.

“I did. Then I went to the hardware store for paint. Thought I’d paint the storage room while the center was slow.” While he talked, his eyes took in everything. The ladders, the decorators, the piles of garlands waiting to be hung. Gill was
practically bouncing in her shoes, waiting for his response. “This tree looks like it came from a decorating magazine.”

“Isn’t it fantastic?” She had to fight to keep from giggling with enthusiasm. “The same decorators did the tree at the Governor’s house.” She cradled one of the glass globes. “Look! Lalique.”

“Lalique crystal?”

“I know what you’re thinking.” She’d already anticipated the argument. “But this won’t impact the budget a bit. Everything you see has been donated by Teaberry Farms—finest Christmas trees in West Virginia.” She let the globe rest among the branches. “Originally Gwen and I discussed just the tree, but then Drew got involved and insisted on the decorations and the trimmings, too.”

“Drew?” Oliver repeated. “As in Drew Teaberry? From Teaberry Industries?”

“Uh-huh. He’s married to my sister Gwen. I had the tree shipped up earlier this week And before you ask, yes, I got the necessary permits. Everything is legal and to code.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said.

“So what do you think?”

Thus far he hadn’t shown any reaction all, other than to stare and walk back and forth. Gill tried studying his profile, but his handsome features were unreadable. She glanced at Maria, only to get an equally cryptic shrug.

“Twenty feet of blue spruce,” she continued, filling the silence. “I wasn’t sure of the exact ceiling measurements, so I erred on the side of caution. From the looks of things…” she craned her neck upward “…I could have gone another five or six feet.”

Still nothing. Her spirits flagged. What now? She’d just presented him with a stunning, one-of-kind designer tree and
trimmings free of charge. Where was the happiness? The gratitude? The appreciation?

“Usually we get our tree from the vendor up the street,” he replied finally.

“If you’re concerned about taking business away from the neighborhood, we can make a donation.”

“What about the kids? They were supposed to make decorations today. What happened to keeping them involved?”

“They can be involved in something else. Trust me, when they see this tree they won’t mind.”

“That’s another thing. How am I supposed to explain where all this came from?” He waved his arm across the decorations.

“How about Santa’s workshop?”

“I’m serious.”

So was she. Not to mention increasingly frustrated. “For goodness’ sake, it’s a Christmas tree. Why are you acting like I kicked a puppy?”

He turned, giving her full view of his annoyed expression. “A lot of these kids will be lucky if they get a handful of gifts, and most of those will be donated. What are they going to think when they see a tree with decorations that cost more than their parents will make in a year?”

Gill bit her lip. She hadn’t thought about that point, although the solution seemed simple enough. “Tell them the truth. The tree was a generous donation.”

“Sure. Right after I tell them I had to spend the money for the new ping-pong table on plumbing supplies. I’ll say ‘Hey, kids, no ping-pong, but good news—we got a tree.’”

Oh, for crying out loud. Was there no pleasing this guy? “You know,” she said, crossing her arms, “Most people in your shoes would say thank you when presented with a gift like this.”

“Really? And what would you know about what people ‘in my shoes’ would say?”

More than you know, Gill wanted to reply. She knew exactly what it felt like to look in someone’s window and see the Christmas you couldn’t have. “I’m only trying to give the kids something special.”

“Don’t you mean show off? Is that what people in
your shoes
do?”

How dared—? She turned so Oliver couldn’t see the hurt and anger in her eyes. Since the moment they’d met, Oliver had acted as if she was the enemy. All she wanted was to do a good job. What had she done to make this man dislike her so much?

Well, she was done trying to win him over. The tree was amazing, and if he was too stubborn to appreciate her efforts, or even to show a modicum of gratitude—well, then he could simply go to blazes. She didn’t care anymore.

“We’re done!” the decorator called down. “Do you want to light her up and see what she looks like?”

“Ask Mr. Harrington,” she called back. “It’s his electrical system.”

She gathered her coat and belongings, no longer able to stand the stiff, unfriendly atmosphere. “Tell you what,” she snapped. “If you don’t like the tree, take it down. Better yet, why don’t you stick it—?”

Her voice cracked, preventing her from finishing the sentence. Didn’t matter; he’d get the idea. “It can keep the other stick that’s up there company.”

“S
ELF-RIGHTEOUS
,
stubborn, obnoxious…” Gill ran out of adjectives before she reached the sidewalk. What was this man’s problem? She got him a one-of-a-kind tree half the city—strike that, the
whole
city—would kill for, and he was insulted? Did he hate Christmas?

Or just hate her?

She stomped down the front steps, blaming the harsh December air for the moisture rimming her eyes. She’d been so certain he’d like the tree; so excited to show him.

“Stupid Christmas party,” she muttered, swiping at her cheeks. Stupid Oliver Harrington and his stupid brown eyes and broad shoulders. She wished she’d never met the man.

Oliver and Maria stood listening to the silence left in the wake of Gill’s door slam. “You know,” Maria said, “sometimes you can be a real jerk.”

He certainly felt like one right now.

“She thought she was doing something nice,” Maria continued. “And you come in here acting like she stole all your money or something. What’s wrong with you?”

He wished he knew. He’d overreacted for sure. When he saw the tree, big and beautiful, unlike anything he could ever afford, and Gill standing by its branches, her angelic face all
excited, looking like a magazine advertisement, he’d lost it. Big-time.

He thought of the way Gill’s face had crumpled at his reaction. Like a five-year-old being told there was no Santa Claus. She’d tried to hide it, but he’d caught the moisture in her eyes. The way her lower lip had trembled with disappointment.

Maria was right. He was a jerk.

She might as well kiss that promotion goodbye right now. If she couldn’t handle a simple Christmas party, how on earth was Elliot going to see her as vice president material? So much for Teaberry magic. Stupid tree blew up in her face.

The look on Oliver’s face… She couldn’t shake the image. He’d looked so…angry. No, not angry. Horrified.
Face it, Gillian. The guy simply doesn’t like you.

Her breath made a white puff as she sighed. She’d had it all planned. She’d create this magical tree, unlike anything the kids at the center had ever seen, beautiful and breathtaking and beyond their wildest imaginations. Oliver would see how much she wanted to help the center and, impressed, he’d be thrilled to work with her. Instead, she was now more on his bad side than ever.

Okay, so maybe she
was
showing off a little, like Oliver had said. Maybe she
could
have toned things down a bit. Then again, why? The tree was absolutely gorgeous. Leave it to Oliver Harrington to prefer paper chain garlands and popsicle stick ornaments over Lalique crystal.

For the life of her, she didn’t know why his disapproval bothered her so much. In the larger scheme of things, whether he liked the tree or not didn’t matter. Neither did his cooperation. As long as she made Peter McNabb look good in the press.

So why was she so determined to dazzle Oliver?

You’re jealous of a tree.
It was true. In a million years Oliver couldn’t give the center a tree like this, and Gill McKenzie had done it with one simple phone call. To her millionaire brother-in-law to boot.

“So what are you going to do?” Maria asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Here’s an idea. How about you apologize?”

Yeah, he owed Gill at least that. How would she know the tree would hit such a strong nerve?

Or that her appearance would be part of the problem?

Therein lay the crux of the matter. Gill McKenzie was uptown, upscale, and everything else he wasn’t. Would never be.

She’s not Julia.

No, but she was a walking reminder of everything Julia had chosen when she’d walked out on him.

Still, that was no reason to take his frustration out on the woman.

On the other hand, there was no reason for him to be so worried about her feelings, either. It wasn’t as if they would have a relationship beyond this party, right? In fact,
relationship
wasn’t even the right word, since that implied something long-lasting. Once this party debacle was over she would head back uptown, never to be seen again.

Still… Those trembling lips flashed in front of his eyes.

He should definitely apologize.

Her surroundings began to change, morphing from slightly rundown to the bland brick buildings of a housing project. So intent had Gill been on fuming, she hadn’t realized she’d walked to the center of the neighborhood. Because it was the middle of a work day, the area was quiet. A pair of women bundled in heavy coats waited at the bus stop. One held the
hand of a little boy, his face hidden by his bulky hood. He had some type of plastic toy in his hand.

Glancing up at the apartment windows, she saw collections of lights and various decorations. Nothing fancy. Certainly nothing like her tree. One window toward the end of the building was covered with paper snowflakes. Despite her bad mood, Gill couldn’t help smiling, thinking how she and Gwen had used to do the same thing. They hadn’t had a lot as kids. They hadn’t been as badly off as some of these families, but they’d done their fair share of going without. Every Christmas she and Gwen would deck their house with pictures and cut-out snowflakes. Their mother would hang up each and every one as if they were precious works of art. Same with those Godawful decorations they’d made at school. Their tree would be literally covered with sparkly pieces of cardboard and popsicle sticks. It wouldn’t have won any decorating awards, but it had been erected with love.

Her smile faded.

Like the tree Oliver had planned for the center.

“Wow!”

“It’s got to be like a hundred feet tall!”

“Is it real?”

“Can we touch it?”

The kids in the after-school program peppered Oliver with question after question, barely waiting for an answer before asking another. They loved the tree—couldn’t stop talking about how awesome and amazing it was. Every comment was a little “I told you so” kick to the stomach.

“Looks like Gill was right,” Maria said, adding to the attack. “The kids are blown away.”

“I noticed.” Guilt made his stomach ache worse.

“Did you call her and apologize?”

“Her office said she was out.” Twice. He’d tried calling her cell phone, too, with no luck. She had either turned it off or she was ignoring his calls. He told himself the unsettled feeling in his stomach was simply eagerness to clear the air, nothing more. “I’ll try again later, after the kids settle down.”

“Did Santa bring the tree?”

Looking down, he saw Becky, one of the younger girls in the program, her brown eyes wide with curiosity.

“How’d he fit it in the sleigh?”

“You’d be surprised at what those elves can do,” a familiar voice replied.

Like a dancer hearing her cue, in waltzed Gill, carrying a tabletop tree. Her cheeks were bright pink, her hair tussled and windblown. She wore a smile so bright that Oliver’s first thought was that she outshone the tree.

“Hey,” she continued, “they pack for an entire Christmas Eve in one trip. A tree is nothing.”

“What’s that?” Becky asked, pointing to the tree in Gill’s hand.

“Oh, this? This is a mini-tree. You can’t have an enchanted forest without a lot of trees, right?”

“What’s enchanted mean?”

“It means magical,” Gill replied.

Carlos DeGarza, the boy standing behind Becky, scoffed. “There’s no such thing as a magical Christmas tree.”

Gill eyed him. “You sure?”

“I ain’t seen one.”

“You’ve never seen an elephant in your backyard, either. Doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“I saw an elephant at the zoo,” Becky said.

“Well, this tree is from where I grew up,” Gill said. “And in my hometown people believe in magical trees all the time.”

“They do?”

“Uh-huh.”

She glanced at Oliver, hesitation in her eyes, and Oliver felt a stab of guilt, knowing it was his attitude that had put it there. With a nod, he encouraged her to continue. He had to admit he was as curious as the kids to hear what she was going to say. This young woman in front of him, talking about magical Christmas trees, was barely recognizable as the glossy Gill McKenzie of this morning.

Gill moved over to the tree and plucked a couple of pine needles. “This isn’t just
any
tree. This is a Teaberry tree.”

“So?” Carlos asked.

“So,” she answered, “for as long as I can remember people have believed if you touch the branch of a Teaberry tree and make a wish, the wish will come true.”

Carlos, junior cynic that he was, frowned. “No way. That’s stupid.”

Clearly Becky didn’t think so. Her eyes, impossible to believe, were larger than ever. “Do they?”

“Sometimes,” Gill replied, casting a quick glance in Oliver’s direction. “But only if the person really
wants
the wish to come true.”

Squatting down to the kids’ eye level, she held out the needles, drawing Oliver and the kids further into her orbit. “See, I have a theory. I think the real magic is inside us. It’s not the tree or the actual wishing, it’s what we do with the wish. I think the tree knows this and rewards the people who do the work.”

“Like doing your homework so you do good in school?” Becky piped in.

“Exactly. Or practicing your hook shot so you make the high school basketball team.”

“I have a hook shot,” Carlos said. He’d been won over.

“But what are the little trees for?” Becky asked.

“Like I said, this tree is part of an enchanted forest.”

“But it doesn’t have any decorations,” said a voice from the back. Oliver recognized it as Dontrell, one of the older boys.

Gill smiled. Her eyes grew almost as wide as Becky’s. “Then I guess we better do something about that. Oliver said you guys were going to make Christmas decorations today, right?”

The little girl looked at Oliver, as if to ask. He nodded. “If you want to.”

“You better make a lot, then,” Gill told them. “I’ve got a few dozen more mini-trees on their way. Enough for everyone to have their own to decorate.”

She might as well have announced Santa had arrived. The center erupted with murmurs of enthusiasm. “Cool. Do we get to keep them?” someone asked.

Gill smiled. “Absolutely. You can bring them home Christmas Eve.”

“Will they be magical, too?” Becky asked.

“Maybe,” she replied, giving the girl’s braids a tug. “Maybe…”

Oliver watched as the kids gathered around Gill, peppering her with the same excited questions they’d asked him a short time before. To her credit, she fielded each and every one with an enthusiasm to match. It was impressive to see. For an uptown girl she was more comfortable with kids than he’d expected.

“Looks like you owe her more than a simple apology,” he heard Maria murmur in his ear.

Unable to tear his gaze away from Gill’s enthusiastic face, he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “I think I do.”