Making Spirits Bright (29 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels,Elizabeth Bass,Rosalind Noonan,Nan Rossiter

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors)

BOOK: Making Spirits Bright
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She held on tight as the old-fashioned phone jangled and Irene smoothed her collar over her blazer and picked it up.
“Yes, this is she. Oh, hello, Darlene. You do? Already? My, that was fast. Well, I’d be happy to show it today, but I’m working at the inn and I can’t get away. Three holiday parties today. But if they’re coming all the way from Concord, let me see if someone else can be there. Maybe one of the kids?”
She looked up, her eyes landing on Jo, assessing with that mixture of tenderness and prodding that mothers everywhere had perfected.
Knowing what was coming, Jo felt pinned against the wall.
“Jo, honey, Darlene’s got a buyer on the hook. Driving up from Concord. Would you be able to meet them at the house this afternoon? A Miss Amy Loman and her client. You could do it on your lunch hour from the shop.”
Helping to sell the house on Bull Moose was the last thing Jo wanted to do.
She had stuff to take care of. The Christmas shop would be crazy busy this afternoon, with Charlie Wilson playing Santa and lines of kids out the door.
She tried to decline, shake her head no. Instead, she glanced down at her mother, whose eyes were still red from crying, and nodded. “Sure, Mum. What time does Darlene want me there?”
Chapter 13
 
As Jo’s Jeep bounced over the hardpack of snow on the lane, she took her foot off the accelerator and stared at the red and black atrocity stuck between snow-covered trees in her parents’ yard.
FOR SALE
, the sign said.
Seemed to be the theme of the day.
Clamping down on the brakes, she felt a strong urge to jump out of her vehicle and yank the sign right out of the ground. It hurt like a thorn in her side.
Instead she gave a grunt and hit the gas. She parked in front of the double garage—hallowed grounds for her these days—and slammed the door. Aside from the crunch of snow under her boots, the woods were silent.
She paused, listening carefully.
What was that lofty clink? Not the sound of Santa’s sleigh, which was the first thing that came to mind, but more like the whisper of crystal glasses toasting in the distance.
A snowflake caught in her eyelashes and she knew. It was the soft
ping
of millions of snowflakes finding their landing spots on trees, rooftops, and fences.
In the life span of a snowflake, there was no question about finding a place to land. Maybe it attached to other crystals or clung to a pinecone or melted on the warm hood of her Jeep, but it found its place. The process was more difficult for humans. Which was why it seemed so wrong to be selling this house. This place had been a home to her family. It was hard enough to find a place on this Earth, and now, to give it up ...
Jo couldn’t imagine it. She and her siblings had sledded down that hill behind the house for all their lives. The same hill Ava and her cousins used these days. She wasn’t giving up the hill.
She unlocked the door and slipped out of her boots in the mudroom. James had wanted to convert the mudroom to a spa with a hot tub, but Mum wouldn’t hear of it. “How do you keep a house clean without a mudroom?” she’d asked, and she’d been right.
The kitchen was neat as a pin, the warm copper of the granite counters inviting, the stained-glass piece in the window bright from the snow behind it. Would they leave the stained glass with the house? It had been made by Jo’s great-grandfather more than fifty years ago, and they’d always joked that it was the family crest.
“I’ll take it before some buyer comes in and tosses it off,” Jo thought, though she had no idea where she would hang it. She would be out of her apartment in the carriage house if this house sold.
On impulse, she raced upstairs to her old bedroom. The stair rail, now decked with garland and white lights, reminded her of the Valentine’s Day when she and Fran had taped a construction-paper heart to each post.
From the room that she had shared with Fran, Jo looked out over the garage roof and marveled at her own idiocy for climbing out this window and shimmying down to meet Shane. She could have broken her neck! And the closet—a great spot for hide-and-seek: her personal hideaway, where she’d spent hours curled up in a ball, wondering how Shane could have been so selfish, worrying that she didn’t have the courage to raise a baby on her own.
There were so many memories here.
Although she knew she would never be able to return to the room of her childhood, it was still hard to let it go. She wasn’t so much concerned that a stranger would be sleeping here as that it would be left empty and dormant. Or worse, that the whole house would be dismantled to make way for a home with cathedral ceilings and columns, solar panels, and an in-ground pool.
Her throat was thick with a ball of emotion as she descended the stairs. She had left the great room for last. She smoothed her hand over the wide walnut mantel and plugged in the lights of the towering Christmas tree. With its fireplace, built-in shelves, and clusters of furniture, this was the room where the Truman family had spent most of their days. How many times had she wrestled on this floor with Tommy or played Monopoly with Fran and James? Dave and Chloe had been married in this room, right in front of the huge window with the spring trees as their glorious backdrop.
What if this was their last Christmas in the great room?
She skirted the giant tree, gazing up at the crystal star that caught the lights and refracted squares of gold, blue, red, and green on the ceiling. “Star light, star bright,” she whispered, thinking back on the days when wishes held stock.
Tears stung her eyes, and she swiped the sleeve of her jacket over her face. She didn’t want the Realtor and her buyers from Concord to see her crying, and they would be arriving any minute now.
She glanced out the huge picture window toward the lane. No sign of a vehicle, but that red and black sign taunted her, a throbbing toothache.
A sob escaped her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back the torrent of emotion.
“No.” She would not lose it in front of the Realtor. She would be polite. She wasn’t going to sabotage her parents’ plans.
But that horrible sign ...
Wheeling around, she skirted the tree and flew out the front door. The steps had been salted, but virgin snow lay around the trees. She sank down to her knees, and her wool socks did nothing to ward off the chill of raw snow.
Still, that eyesore had to go, and Jo took great delight in grabbing the post and giving it a tug. Not as easy as she’d anticipated. The post remained in place.
Leverage, she thought. Placing her snowy sock-clad foot at the top of the sign, she gave it a shove. It moved slightly. She kicked and pushed until it finally slouched to the side, enough for her to uproot it with a grunt.
Victory!
She held the sign high over her head, breathing hard with satisfaction.
The crunch of snow and a flash of red through the trees alerted her that a car was coming.
Jo lowered the sign as the red SUV slowed to a stop some ten yards away, visible through the bare trees.
The passenger-side window rolled down, and a man in a dark coat sat back as a woman leaned over from the driver’s seat.
“Hi, there! I’m Amy Loman, from Loman Realty in Concord. We’re looking for fifteen-hundred Bull Moose, but I see you got here first.”
Jo looked at the infuriating sign in her hands, but refused to feel remorse about ripping it out. “I did.”
“Aren’t you the early bird.” Amy had a broad smile, which made it hard for Jo to completely hate her. “I should have known it was too good to be true. My client and I came as soon as the listing popped, but I guess we weren’t fast enough.”
“I guess not,” Jo said, dropping the sign onto the snow. She wasn’t tracking what Amy Loman was saying. Did they want to see the house or not?
“Well, let us know if your offer falls through,” Amy said, flashing that smile again. “Happy holidays!”
Jo stood there staring, her toes beginning to freeze as the red SUV turned around in the driveway and headed back down the lane. Amy Loman thought Jo was Darlene? Since Jo had ripped out the sign, Amy had thought there was an offer on the house.
If only it were true.
If Jo had half a million, she would buy the place herself.
Ah, but you do.
Not in her checking account, but in savings. The money from Shane’s life insurance. Of course, she’d put that aside for Ava, but she couldn’t think of a better way to invest it than to buy the house outright. Ava would be guaranteed a chance to grow up in her family home and ... and if they needed money down the road, Jo could refinance for a small amount.
“Oh, dear God ...” Jo’s heart began to race as she picked up the sign and hurried back toward the house. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she shouted, half prayer, half cheer.
This would be the best Christmas ever.
Sam buffed the dashboard of the Mustang, sat back in the seat, and tapped the steering wheel. Where the hell was Jo?
This garage romance was beginning to wear thin, with the cold, the smell of motor oil, and the limited access to Jo, which made him feel like a caged animal at times. He was supposed to wait here nights, while she had a life with Ava and her family, a life he wasn’t allowed to be a part of because ...
“Because of the way you look,” he said, the words he’d been dreading all these weeks.
It was time to face the fact that he was damaged goods, even in Jo’s eyes, and he wasn’t going to be comfortable living within the bounds she’d set for their relationship.
The squeak of the outside door made him turn.
Jo stood there, her cheeks streaked with red, her eyes bright.
He got out of the car, closed the door. “You look like you ran all the way over.”
“I did!” She parted her open coat, revealing flannel pajamas tucked into the tops of her rubber boots. “I just wanted to tell you that I can’t stay. I’m working on a huge surprise for Christmas. Mom and Pops know about it, but I’m trying to get everything lined up so I can spring it on my family tomorrow, just before midnight mass.”
“Really ... can you give me a hint?”
“No way. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Or ... I won’t see you tomorrow. How about Christmas night?”
His heartbeat seemed to be the loudest thing in the silence of the garage. He’d been holding onto hope, but this didn’t sound like an invitation to Christmas dinner. “What are we talking about?”
“I don’t know if you have a family thing with your mother—”
“She’ll be having dinner with some family friends down in Portsmouth.”
“Oh, so then you can meet me later? After all the family festivities die down?”
“Here?”
“Right here.” She smiled, then bit her lower lip. “Sam, I’m sorry I can’t hang here tonight, but this just came up all of a sudden and ... and if I don’t act now, it could all blow up in my face.” The way her eyes danced with light, it was clear that her excitement outweighed any regrets.
She looked beautiful tonight, her face tinged with color and her eyes bright. It broke Sam’s heart to know this would be his last chance to see her.
But he’d made himself a promise, and it was time to man up. It was all for the best.
Still, he’d never forget her. Bright eyes and silken hair. Quicksilver laugh and lips that set his senses on fire. His Jo.
“Kiss me good-bye,” she said, stepping into his arms and pressing her body against his. “And I’ll see you in my dreams tonight.”
He would see her in his dreams tonight and every night, but he wouldn’t ruin her Christmas now with the truth. Soon enough, she’d know how it was going to be.
For now, he dipped his head into the glow of her happiness, touched his lips to hers, and held Jo Truman one last time.
Chapter 14
 
The door bells jingled, and two little boys peered into the shop. “Is he here yet? Is Santa here?” the bigger kid asked eagerly.
“Not until noon,” Jo called from behind the counter, where there was a line of customers three deep for last-minute gifts and stocking stuffers.
Ava went to the door and stared the boys down. “I told you. Santa will be here at twelve.”
“Okay.” They ducked away and closed the door, which they’d done half a dozen times before that morning.
“Where’d all these kids come from?” Molly asked.
“School’s out, and Santa is going to be here soon,” Jo said. “Also, the firefighters have one of the hook and ladder trucks on display next door. The kids are allowed to climb on it and ring the bell. All that stuff.”
“So that’s why I keep hearing sirens,” Molly said as she wrapped a woman’s purchase in holly-printed paper. She jumped when her cell rang loudly in her jeans pocket, hopping from one foot to another, Scotch tape on her fingertips, as she fished it out.
“Sorry about that,” she said to her customer, “but it looks like Santa’s calling. Hello, Charlie. How’s everything? You’re joking, right? But we’ve got kids already waiting to see you, and there’s the gig at the inn tonight.”
“Doesn’t sound good,” Jo said. She handed three dollars change to Mary Anne, a longtime employee of the grocery store.
Molly turned to Jo. “Charlie’s sick.”
Jo winced. “Poor Charlie.”
“Something’s going around,” Mary Anne said. “Two of my kids missed school last week.”
“Well, no, I don’t want Santa to infect all the kids with strep throat,” Molly said, causing Jo to turn to her.
“Little ears are everywhere,” Jo reminded her cousin, though most of the little ones were over by the Matchbox car ornaments and the train track. But based on experience, Jo knew the shop would be loaded with kids by noon. In the last week before Christmas, the Santa Claus business had been quite lucrative for Cousins’ Christmas Shop, doubling their sales. But today the priority wasn’t sales anymore, but the kids. It would be awful to disappoint them.
Jo looked at the clock. In less than an hour, they would have a line of kids streaming through the door, eagerly awaiting a visit with Santa. The question was, who could fill the Santa suit in the back room?
“We need backup,” Jo said, and she and Molly launched into a mad search for someone to fill the role. Molly couldn’t reach her father, and Pops couldn’t get away from the inn on Christmas Eve. Jo was unable to enlist any of her brothers. Their letter carrier Hal was busier than ever, and none of the leads customers gave them panned out.
With time ticking away, Jo called Sam. She figured it was a long shot, but she had to give it a try. But his voice mail kept kicking in. His phone was off. Molly suggested she run over and intercept him at home. Although Jo was hesitant, Molly persisted.
“We are running out of options,” Molly said, her eyes wide with alarm. “Make sure you tell him that. And while you’re at it, turn on the charm.”
Jo knew the way to the house where Sam grew up. She and Shane had picked him up a hundred times for outings. And in the past few weeks, she had thought of stopping by more than once, but then gave Sam his privacy.
She slowed the Jeep as she approached his driveway and saw Sam standing outside his truck, stowing a duffel bag. Perfect timing.
“Stop right there!” She swung out of the Jeep, grinning like a fool at the sight of him. “I’ve got a proposition for you that I know you’re going to hate, but if you do it, I’ll love you forever.” Quickly, she told him about their sick Santa, and how the kids had been lining up at the shop all week to visit with Santa. “You’re my last hope, Sam.”
Sam buried his hands in his jacket pockets, staring down at the ground. “I don’t know why you even considered me. People don’t want their kids exposed to a freak.” He gestured to the left side of his head. “This is the sort of thing that’ll give kids nightmares.”
“Between the fur collar of the suit, the hat, and the beard, the side of your head and neck will be covered. No one will see your injuries, Sam. And think of all the kids you’d be saving from disappointment.”
He frowned, shaking his head slowly.
“Oh, come on, Sam. It’s Christmas Eve, the last chance these kids will have to see Santa this year.” She moved closer and grabbed the lapels of his open jacket. “I know there’s a warm heart inside here. Can’t you share the love with some little kids this Christmas?”
He lifted his face, and when his eyes connected with hers, she felt a jolt of fear. There was pain in his eyes; something had happened. “Sam ... what’s wrong?”
He winced, looking away. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your Santa.”
“But that’s not it. There’s something you’re not telling me.” She looked beyond him to his truck, where coolers, a footlocker, and other assorted luggage were stacked. “You’ve been packing.” All joy drained from her. This was serious. “Where are you going, Sam?”
His jaw clenched, and he nodded at her Jeep. “You’re in a time crunch, right? We’ll talk on the way.”
Jo wasn’t quite sure her legs would support her on the snowpacked driveway, but she made it to the driver’s seat and slammed the door with a vengeance.
Sam got in beside her and stared out the window to his right.
“Seat belt on,” she demanded. When she heard the click, she popped the Jeep into low gear and headed down the hill. “Looks like you’re going on a trip, Sam. A long trip.”
“That’s right.” His tone was neither proud nor regretful. “I’m heading out.”
“What about your surgery?”
“I’ll live without it.”
The stoic approach. She swallowed, refusing to back down. “So where you headed? And when were you going to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas, though from the look of things, I don’t really matter enough to affect your Christmas. Telling me you can squeeze me in after all the other celebrations end? Ay-yeah. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“But I wanted to see you on Christmas! Believe me, I daydream about it all the time. It’s just not feasible right now. I’ve got a little girl to raise, and she has got to be my first priority.”
“And everyone else can go to hell.”
“I never said that. Sam—”
“Save it for someone who cares. We both know you don’t want to bring a freak around to the family parties.”
“That’s not true!”
“I don’t hold it against you, Jo. I can deal with the truth. But I can’t wait around for you to fit me into your life. I can’t be your garage buddy, hiding out in your parents’ house. If I can’t be in your life, Jo, then I’m out. Way out. I figure Alaska is far enough.”
“You’re going to Alaska?” She kept her face forward, hoping he didn’t see the tears forming in her eyes. “What are you going to do there?”
“Blow some things up to build new highway.”
She nodded, as if this were a run-of-the-mill conversation. “Wow. I didn’t see this coming.”
When he turned away, she quickly dashed the tears from her eyes. “For the record ...” She cleared her voice. “For the record, I’m not ashamed of the way you look. It’s important to me that you believe that, if nothing else. You’re gorgeous, Sam.” She sucked in a breath. “You always were. Still are.”
“Then why do you keep me in the closet?” he asked.
“To protect Ava. Dr. Nora, you know, the famous psychologist? She says that single parents should never bring strangers into the home. It causes all kinds of problems for little kids like Ava, and it’s my job to protect her. She’s relying on me. So I promised myself I would keep her safe, and keep men out of the house, at least until she goes off to college.”
“Really?” He raked his hair back. “That’s like, thirteen or fourteen years away.”
“I know, but she needs to feel safe in her home.”
“And so you were going to try to keep me coming to the garage every night for the next thirteen years?”
“I don’t know, Sam. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just know that I like being with you, and I figured we’d find a way, work something out ...”
“Were you ever going to discuss this with me?” His voice was flat and void of emotion. “Last time I checked, there were two people in this relationship.”
That hurt, maybe because it was true. She felt her mouth pucker, her face twisting to hold back tears. She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel and stared through the windshield, wishing she could hide from him.
Sam was right; she’d treated him unfairly, thinking that he’d be happy waiting at her beck and call. And now, she’d lost him.
She drove into the dancing snow, heading toward a very bittersweet Christmas.
 
 
The afternoon was sweet torture for Jo. There was joy in spending time with Sam, watching him handle the rambunctious boys with ease and draw out the more shy kids with patience. Sam was a good listener, and the kids warmed quickly to his deep “Ho, ho, ho,” and short stories of life in the North Pole.
They can tell he has a good heart, Jo thought.
And with each touching moment came the sad realization that Sam was leaving.
She’d caught him trying to slip out without saying good-bye. The image of Sam’s truck, packed to the gills, made her queasy. She couldn’t imagine nights without him.
But then there was Ava to love and protect, and no man was going to displace her daughter.
Her priority would always be Ava.
Ava, who right now was having a candid conversation with Santa Sam.
“Hold on, over there!” Jo called, trying to disentangle herself from wire ornaments. She had managed to keep them apart all afternoon, but now that Sam was on a short break in the back room, Ava seemed to think it her duty to fill him in on the world according to Ava.
“I’m not going to sit on your lap,” she told him.
“Really? How come?” he asked.
“I know you’re not the real Santa. You’re Mommy’s friend.”
Jo’s mouth dropped open as she approached. How did Ava know?
“I’m one of Santa’s helpers,” Sam told her.
“I know that. And I’m one of Mommy’s helpers.”
He looked her in the eye. “I know that.”
She giggled, then squinted at him. “Oh, no!”
Jo gaped as her daughter reached out to touch Sam’s neck.
Ava’s slender fingers lifted the left side of Sam’s beard so that she could see the red scar underneath. “What happened?”
“I got injured in the war,” he said.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore. But sometimes it makes me feel sad.” His eyes didn’t leave her face. “I can’t use that ear anymore.”
“Oh. It’s a good thing you have the ’nother ear,” she said wisely.
“Yeah, that’s a good thing.”
Ava suddenly noticed Jo watching them. “Mommy, can I have a juice box?”
“How many have you had today?” Jo asked.
“I think ... three.”
“How about some water?” Jo said, her eyes on Sam now.
With all the things she’d known about Sam Norwood, she’d had no idea he’d be so good with children. It made her wonder if Sam wanted kids of his own. Yes, he probably did.
And the thought of him starting a family with someone else killed her.
 
 
When Cousins’ Christmas Shop closed, Molly, Ava, and Jo ushered Sam across the street to the Woodstock Inn.
“I thought this was about helping out your shop,” he said, holding the padded belly in place as he trekked through the snow.
“You were a great help!” Molly said. “But we promised to send our Santa over to the inn to greet the Christmas Eve guests. It’s a Woodstock Inn tradition to have Santa attend holiday dinners.”
“Oh, goody.”
“Don’t worry, Sam.” Ava took his hand to cross the street, surprising Jo again. “We’ll be there with you.”
“That will make it much better, Miss Ava.”
 
 
As Jo stamped her feet on the carpet, she could see through the beveled glass of the front door that the lobby was packed with people. “Something’s going on in there,” Jo said.
“Another Woodstock Inn tradition?” Sam asked.
“Not that I know of.” Jo opened the door, and a few people at the back of the crowd turned to her.
“Hey, Jo. Merry Christmas,” Emma Mueller said, clapping her on the shoulder.
“It’s wonderful news!” Carmine Giordano shook her hand, then Molly’s, then waved toward the front of the crowd. “Hey, Bob! We got your other daughter back here, along with Santa Claus!”
Laughter rumbled through the room as the crowd parted for the newcomers.

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