Lakeshore Christmas (22 page)

“I’m glad you like how it turned out.” Daisy had come to the church straight from the printer’s. “I hiked halfway up Watch Hill to get the shot.”

“At night?” Maureen shuddered. “In the snow?”

“I had a friend with me,” Daisy said quickly. She’d talked her friend Zach into it. A fellow student at SUNY New Paltz, he sometimes helped out as her assistant on challenging shoots. Zach was also, to his great chagrin, her favorite photographer’s model. With his straight, white-blond hair and strong, Nordic features, he was a compelling subject. Daisy liked being around Zach, because unlike the other guys in her life, she wasn’t confused about him.

“Well, it’s gorgeous.” Maureen touched a finger to her name. In the corner of the printed poster, it said Codirected by Maureen Davenport and Eddie Haven.

“I thought I’d get some more candid shots today, during rehearsal,” Daisy said, taking out her favorite camera, a good digital SLR. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” Yet Maureen’s expression was uncertain as she looked around the stage area of the church. “I’m afraid it’s pretty chaotic around here.”

“That’s her polite way of saying things aren’t going
her way,” said Eddie Haven, coming in through a side door. He was carrying a guitar in a case and some kind of sound equipment. “Right, Moe?”

Daisy aimed the lens barrel at Maureen just in time to catch a completely spontaneous and attractive blush. Okay, I get it, thought Daisy. And when Eddie grinned at Maureen, Daisy shot that, too. I
really
get it, she thought. This was something she enjoyed, capturing people’s emotions, particularly the honest, unscripted ones. She was a good wedding photographer, and maybe this was why. She loved what the camera revealed about people when they were in the moment, not thinking about what they looked like. In the spring and summer, weddings were fast becoming Daisy’s bread and butter. A lot of photographers shied away from weddings, but Daisy loved them. She was inspired by the sweep of drama and the intensity of emotion that tinged the air, the over-the-top happiness and even the nerves. Maybe she enjoyed weddings so much because she didn’t ever expect to have one of her own, not a traditional one, anyway. Her past was too complicated. Her present, too full of Charlie. So the chances of her future including a traditional wedding were slim. It gave her a keen eye for others, though. Take Maureen and Eddie. They had excellent chemistry. They’d make a great bride and groom, not that they seemed to know it.

“No, you’re not right,” Maureen said to Eddie. “It’s not just me. Everybody knows this program is in trouble.”

Eddie turned to Daisy. “See what I have to put up with?”

“Where are the three wise men?” Maureen asked. “They’ve missed the past two rehearsals.”

“Ray’s working with them,” Eddie said. “They’ll be fine.”

“And what about Cecil Byrne? Who’s going to work with him?” She sent Daisy a look of desperation. “He’s a nice boy, but he can’t carry a tune in a basket with training wheels.”

“You think that’s going to matter?” Eddie asked.

“We’re here!” The broad double doors of the sanctuary burst open, and in flowed the after-school crowd of little ones. “We’re ready for play practice,” announced one of the girls.

“And play practice is ready for you,” Eddie said. “Come on in and let’s get started.” He touched Maureen’s arm. “I’ve got this. Good to see you, Daisy.”

“You go right ahead with your pictures,” Maureen said, blowing a wisp of hair off her brow. “The kids are cute no matter what.”

“I know what you mean,” Daisy said. “Listen, Maureen, I wanted to let you know I won’t be around for the Christmas Eve performance.”

“Other plans?” asked Maureen.

“Charlie and I are going down to Long Island. We’re spending Christmas Eve with Charlie’s dad’s family.” Daisy had cried when she’d told her parents, but they’d been incredibly understanding.

“Eddie’s parents live on Long Island,” Maureen said, her gaze drawn to him as if by a magnet.

You’ve got it bad, Daisy thought, hiding a smile. “Here are some outtakes from the poster shoot.” Daisy handed over her portfolio. “If you want, we can use something more traditional.”

“I love the one you picked.” Maureen paged through the large pages. “You’re so good,” she said. “This is an impressive portfolio.”

“Other than Charlie, it’s pretty much been my life
since high school. I’m glad I found photography. It’s a way to connect with the world.”

Maureen lingered over studies of Daisy’s two best friends, Zach and Sonnet.

“I recognize these two from the library.”

“Sonnet’s my stepsister, doing an internship abroad this year. I miss her a lot. And Zach… It’s Zach Alger. He used to live in Avalon, but he had to move away.”

“I’m familiar with what happened. I always felt sorry for him in that situation.”

“He’s doing all right,” Daisy assured her. “He’s in New Paltz, working and going to school.”

Maureen turned a page, stared at a portrait of Julian Gastineaux. “Oh.”

Her tone of voice said it all. Everyone said “Oh” like that when they saw Julian.

“So this is a cookie exchange.” Eddie stepped into the foyer of the library, which was crowded with people and lined with tables that appeared to be set up for a bake sale.

Maureen greeted him at the entrance. “That’s right. We’re so glad you came to help out.”

“Not familiar with the concept.” He stepped back and regarded Maureen. She had a sprig of holly in her hair, and she was wearing a frilly bib apron covered in little kids’ handprints and embroidered along the hem:
To Miss Davenport with love.
Most women would be too fashionable to wear the handmade apron, but on Maureen, it looked cute. In fact, he found everything about her cute, but every time he tried to convey his opinion to her, she turned wary. Given what she’d told him about her first love affair, he could understand that—sort of. What he couldn’t understand was her reluctance to give
love another shot. He’d never met a woman so afraid of getting her heart broken. He wanted to prove to her that every relationship didn’t have to end like that. He wanted her to believe that some didn’t end at all. Why he wanted to be the one to prove it to her was a matter that had been in his heart ever since that night at the library.

“Come on and check it out,” she said, grabbing his hand and towing him into the big, open room. It appeared to be the quintessential community event. She introduced him to Jane and Charles Bellamy, who had recently returned to Avalon to spend their golden years in the small town. He recognized dozens of other people—Noah and Sophie and their two younger kids. Maureen’s friend Olivia, and Olivia’s sister, Jenny, from the bakery. Bo Crutcher’s mother-in-law, Mrs. Carminucci, with a giant box of cookies. Greg and Nina Bellamy—Nina had been the town mayor at the time of Eddie’s accident, and she’d applauded the judge’s sentence of community service. And in a way, so did Eddie. Without that, he wouldn’t have a place to return to every Christmas, and he’d probably end up doing something crazy.

He noticed Maureen studying him. “It just occurred to me,” he said, “I seem to know more people in Avalon than I do in my own neighborhood in New York.”

“Maybe you’re in the wrong place,” she said, then quickly turned away before he could tell whether or not she was kidding.

At the center of the room was the Christmas tree in all its glory. Kids of all sizes crowded around it, munching on cookies and regarding the lights and decorations with shining eyes. He thought about what Maureen believed about kids and magic and Christmas. She wanted him to get over his holiday hang-ups as much as he wanted
her to get over her romantic hang-ups. Maybe they could make a deal.

“We’ve held a cookie exchange every year as a library fund-raiser,” Maureen said. “This year, it matters more than ever.”

“Chin up, Moe.”

“I did the math,” she said, indicating the fund-raising graph on display, “and—short of grand larceny—I just can’t see a way to raise enough money.”

“There’s another way to look at your chart.” He indicated the list of usage and circulation statistics. “If everyone who used the library in the past year would contribute, you’d be in the clear.”

“You’re talking about a lot of people,” Maureen said. “Thousands.”

“I rest my case.”

“That’s not the way it works. In a perfect world, maybe. But the world is not perfect.”

“Man,” said Eddie, “you need to eat more cookies.”

She offered a tremulous smile, one that made him want to hug her close. “I’ll work on my attitude. Today was not a good day,” she admitted. “Our operations manager left with no notice. Got a job in Green Bay.”

“Hey, about those cookies,” Eddie said.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She stood a little straighter, smoothed the colorful apron. “Come take a look.”

He stepped into the main atrium of the building and was assaulted by sweetness. The air was thick with the aroma of home-baked cookies—butter and sugar, cinnamon, chocolate. Everything was displayed on long tables, and volunteers circulated with trays, offering samples—gingerbread angels, lemon bars, chocolate mint patties, pecan balls. Daisy Bellamy was present, taking pictures of the festivities—close-ups of fancy plates loaded with
goodies, photos of wide-eyed kids and laughing adults. This was what Christmas was supposed to be, thought Eddie. But all the good spirits in the world were not going to rescue the library.

“I’m dying here, Maureen,” Eddie said. “Do you now how good it smells?”

“Hard to resist, isn’t it?” she said. “The Davenports’ table is this way.”

It had been a hell of a long time since a woman had introduced him to her family. He usually screwed things up with a girl long before the intros were in order. That was the beauty of doing the pageant with Maureen. She was stuck with him, at least until Christmas Eve. So even if he screwed things up with her, he had a few more weeks to make things right.

The Davenport family manned a long table at the back wall of the library. Maureen’s father, Stan, was the silver-haired patriarch in a red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled back. His wife, Hannah, beamed like Mrs. Santa Claus as she passed out samples of nut chewies and iced raisin bars. The sisters—Renée, whom he’d met briefly, and Janet and Meredith were outgoing and funny, and the brother, Guy, good-natured as his wife, Mindy, bossed him around.

“Try this,” Meredith said. “It’s our grandma’s recipe.”

Eddie bit into a bar cookie crammed with white and dark chocolate. His eyes rolled back in his head. “My God,” he said. “I think that might be the best thing I ever ate.
Ever.
”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” said Janet. “Rumball?”

“Thanks, but I stay away from rum,” he said. “How about one of those? What is it?”

“A soft molasses cookie that’ll change your life,” said Mindy.

Eddie tasted one. “If this doesn’t earn you a fortune, nothing will.”

“Here’s hoping.”

“I mean it. These cookies could definitely save the library. Maybe they could save the world.”

“People drag out their best recipes for the cookie exchange,” Janet explained. “It gets pretty competitive.”

Maureen took him aside. “So, what do you think of my whole ‘freakishly functional’ family?”

“I didn’t mean anything bad, calling them that,” Eddie said with a grin. “Kind of the opposite. I haven’t met that many families where everybody gets along.”

“Meaning yours doesn’t?” she asked.

“We’re okay,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

She studied him for a moment, her eyes soft with touching sympathy. “You should do something about it, then,” she told him quietly. “Sooner rather than later.”

He lifted his hand, brushed her cheek. The brief touch lit a blush there. “Don’t hold your breath, Moe.”

“But—”

“We’re all looking forward to knowing you better, Eddie,” said Hannah, sidling over. “Maureen’s told us so much about you.”

“She has? You don’t say.” He was intrigued.

“Whoa, not so fast. You know that’s not so,” Maureen protested, blushing even deeper.

“Nonsense, of course it is.” Hannah turned to beam at Eddie. “You’ve been all she talks about since before Thanksgiving.”

“Shoot me now,” Maureen said to no one in particular.

“With Cupid’s arrow,” Hannah declared, thrusting
out a silver tray laden with a dizzying variety of cookies. “Have a nut cake, Eddie.”

“Thanks. Don’t mind if I do.” He savored the tidbit, closing his eyes in ecstasy, pleased with both the cookie and the disclosure from Hannah. “Now, about the things Maureen told you…”

Maureen stood back and watched in dismay as Eddie effortlessly fit himself into her family. His natural charm served him well. They surrounded him in a cocoon of welcome—Hannah, the sisters, the various nieces and nephews. Even Maureen’s dad and brother warmed right up to him. What an ideal setup, she thought. Between Eddie’s charm and her family’s openness, it was a match made in heaven. The only misfit…was her. She simply didn’t feel comfortable around him, for reasons she almost couldn’t bear to face. It was because she was half in love with the man. More than half, probably, and her feelings were getting harder and harder to hide. She had to, though. It was too risky to simply let this…this whatever-it-was-between-them sweep her away.

She regarded her family with both affection and exasperation. Hannah was the ringleader, as always. Maureen’s stepmother was blissfully happy in her marriage, and she firmly believed everyone in the world was meant to find someone.

Furthermore, Hannah saw interfering in her stepchildren’s lives as not just her right, but her duty. “In my younger days, I was a confirmed bachelorette,” she told Eddie, always happy to have someone new to tell her story to. “I didn’t want anything to do with marriage. And kids? Forget it. Then I met this guy.” She beamed at Maureen’s father. “A widower with five young kids. What were the chances?”

“Pretty good,” Maureen’s dad said, “since I’d been stalking you for about a year.” He winked at Eddie. “Seriously, she took a leap of faith. Thought I might be damaged goods, you know, losing my wife all of a sudden. To be honest, we were all damaged. And then Hannah came along, and she rebuilt our family.”