Merry's Christmas: Two Book Set (Amish) (6 page)

Merry felt her face turn crimson. She covered it with her hands. “Augghh! No, no, no. You know what? I can’t even go there.”

“Well, that kit’s already caboodled.”

Merry grabbed Kiki’s arm in desperation. “It is not! It can’t be. Okay, okay. Maybe it is. But it’s just in my head.”

“Oh, it’s on your face, too,” Kiki hooted.

Mortified, Merry stopped in her tracks. “Is it that obvious? What if he can tell?”

Kiki shook it off. “Naw, Baby. Men don’t see that inside stuff. That’s why God made women.”

Hours later, all was quiet at the Bell household. Ollie checked the clock in his father’s study. It read 2:10 a.m. Painstakingly, Ollie tiptoed to his dad’s desk. He knew he wasn’t allowed up at that hour, much less to prowl his dad’s study, but curiosity over just what he’d be getting for Christmas had gotten the better of him.

Reaching his father’s desk, Ollie eyed the forbidden fruit: the mysteriously taboo Christmas drawer, the one he knew was completely off limits. Unable to resist, Ollie carefully slid the drawer open. Suddenly, the lamp flipped on, illuminating the room. Ollie startled to see Tara. “Augh!”

Tara padded over quickly, her finger to her lips. “Shhhhh!”

His little heart pounding, Ollie whispered emphatically. “You shush! What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, apparently,” Tara retorted.

Ollie looked back quizzically. “Seeing what I’m getting for Christmas?”

Tara pushed Ollie aside, made a beeline for the open Christmas drawer, and removed her father’s note to Merry. “Yeah, I’m really itching for a worm farm.” Tara opened the envelope, pulled the note out, and read.

Ollie crowded in to see. “What’s it say?”

Turning the note away from her brother, Tara quietly read its text:

Merry,

I hope you’ll forgive my overreaction. Please continue to follow your heart. I can see you have a good one. And the more I think of it, the more I realize just how much I need you.

Daniel

Ollie’s tired eyes widened. “Is that like a love letter?”

“No, dopey,” Tara explained. “He’s just apologizing for flipping out over the whole china debacle. He’s just—” Tara interrupted herself, a sly expression forming. “You know...with just a little help, it could be...”

Tara grabbed her dad’s pen, the same one he’d used to write the note. Carefully mimicking his handwriting, Tara inserted a “
Love
,” before her father’s signature.

Ollie watched, agape. “Love, Daniel? I’m telling.” Ollie started to leave, but Tara firmly yanked him back.

“You tell and I tell you were down here,” Tara threatened. “Besides. Maybe if we do a little something to encourage him to like Merry, he might forget all about Miss Boring Face. It could be our gift to him, a secret. You like Merry, right?”

Ollie nodded. “Yeah, so...”

Tara slipped the note back into place in the drawer. “So, pinkie swear,” she said, extending her little finger.

Never before had Tara offered to share such a confidence with Ollie. It felt good to him, like he was included in her life in a whole new way. “Our Christmas present to him, together?” he queried.

Tara nodded in affirmation, waiting for his agreement. Ollie hooked his pinkie to his sister’s with a mischievous grin, sealing their holiday pact.

six
 

M
erry scurried into Daniel’s study. Though she’d worked hard and late the day before, she’d awakened at dawn, invigorated by the second chance she’d been given. Her mind brimming with ideas, Merry pulled off her coat and draped it on the back of Daniel’s desk chair. Dutifully, she slid open the Christmas drawer to check for instructions.

Reflexively, Merry tingled all over. Whereas she’d expected a simple list, instead there was a nice note card with just her first name written on the envelope.

Merry pulled out Daniel’s note and read. That he’d told her he was sorry said a lot to her, but it meant all the more that he had gone on to affirm the goodness of her heart and to say that he needed her. It was hard for Merry to imagine, but there it was, written in his hand. Yes. He actually acknowledged that he needed her. Merry had felt many things in her life, but needed hadn’t really been one of them. She had felt extraneous, overlooked, even needy. But being needed was an entirely new sensation. “
I need you
,” she read aloud, taking in the sound of it.

Suddenly, Merry noticed how the note had been signed. “Oh,” she gasped. “
Love, Daniel
...?” Merry’s hand flew to her mouth as she examined Daniel’s signature. She had sensed that their conversation the night before had been something of a breakthrough. She knew he had lit a spark in her, but what she hadn’t dared dream to consider was the possibility that the feeling could have been mutual.

Each time Merry had entered Strong Bank & Trust, it had felt different, but this fourth time had been the most strangely wonderful of all.
How had this all come to be
, she mused. As she sat waiting for Daniel to check her receipts, she replayed the events of the previous days, savoring every detail, leading up to the note signed
Love, Daniel
. It hardly seemed real to her, but there he was, receptively cordial, light years out of her league according to Arthur and yet, it was his affectionately signed card she prized in her pocket.

As Daniel counted out Merry’s cash advance, she took in his darkly handsome features with freshly stirred interest. He had a very strong jaw and the tiniest bit of gray just at the top of his sideburns. She enjoyed the sound of his voice.

“Everything appears to be in order,” Daniel said, maintaining his professional air. Then, studying her demeanor, he added, “You all right today?”

Merry smiled demurely. “Fine, it’s just, I got your note and I...I was kind of surprised. Good surprised. Guess I’m not used to hearing—er—I should say
reading
that kind of thing. And I know I’m like six shades of red,” she added, failing to fight the blush rising to her cheeks.

Daniel took on an engagingly familiar tone. He leaned across the desk and lowered his voice to a confidential level. “To tell the truth, I did a little soul-searching after you left last night and—I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but it’s what I was honestly feeling. And I signed it the way I did because, well...I was hoping you’d start calling me Daniel.”

Merry smiled warmly, interpreting what Daniel spoke in light of his note. His words did nothing but confirm the unimaginable.
He really is interested in me
, she thought. “It actually meant a lot that you signed it like that. I guess we’re both kind of seeing how it goes, but...I’m starting to think... Let’s just say that I could get used to calling you Daniel.”

“Good, then,” Daniel replied as he handed Merry the cash and the receipt book. He watched as she signed for both.

“And I’ll do better today, on the job,” Merry promised.

“You did well yesterday,” Daniel reassured. “I guess for some reason I just didn’t see it at first.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Merry replied, remembering Kiki’s words. “That’s why God made women. To see stuff.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Merry noticed as Catherine emerged from the elevator and headed toward them. “Daniel. There you are,” Catherine called.

“Boss’s daughter again. Time to get back to business,” Daniel whispered as Catherine neared. Quickly, he handed a folded piece of paper to Merry. “My Christmas list. Most of it. Can’t think what to get for Catherine. Or Mother for that matter. Let me know if she drops a hint.”

Catherine glided to a graceful stop at the edge of Daniel’s desk.  Both Daniel and Merry rose immediately.  Catherine smiled ever so cordially. “Good morning. Merry, wasn’t it?”

Merry steeled herself. “Yes. I was just—”

Catherine went on, not waiting for Merry to finish her sentence. “Daniel...a moment?” Daniel acquiesced, allowing Catherine to lead him away. As Merry perused Daniel’s list, a puzzled expression grew on her face.

By the time Merry walked out of the bank, she was already on her cell with Kiki. Checking behind herself to be sure she wasn’t being overheard, Merry confided. “So, the daughter of the president of the whole bank, she works there, and she’s suddenly on his Christmas list. He signed this really sweet note to me “
Love, Daniel
” and it sure sounds like he’s interested in me, so why is he asking me to buy her a gift?”

“Maybe he’s a player.”

Merry shook the thought off quickly. She’d fended off those types at the restaurant before and this felt completely different. “He just doesn’t seem that way. I guess it’s possible that I’m reading too much into what he said to me. Or maybe it’s just a business gift he wants for her. I don’t know.”

“What kind of gift did he tell you to get?” Kiki asked. “That’d tip you.”

“He didn’t say,” Merry responded. “I’m supposed to help him come up with ideas.”

“So, how about you float out something romantic for her as a possibility. Fish around,” Kiki advised.

“And if he bites—”

“If he does, okay, you got your answer,” Kiki continued. “You bow out. But if he hesitates--well, then Girl, you might just have yourself one high-class nibble.”

Upstairs in the privacy of her conspicuously emptied corner office, Catherine pulled Daniel inside. Though she’d convinced herself that Merry was far from Daniel’s type, something in her had still knotted up at the sight of Merry, visiting Daniel’s desk once again. Catherine had never liked defending her territory. She was more of the offensive ilk. So, she closed the door, drew Daniel close, and planted a decidedly unbusiness-like kiss on him.

Daniel broke the kiss with a curious gaze around the vacant room. “Where’s all your stuff?”

Catherine smiled coyly, wiping her lipstick off his lips. “Not to rush the season, but... I’m just working on an early Christmas present for you.”

Daniel looked around, a stymied expression on his face. “You’re leaving the company?”

“Not as long as you’ve got those ‘intentions’ on me,” Catherine reminded.

Daniel nodded matter-of-factly. “There are those ‘intentions’ in the air.”

“Wafting about.”

“Yes,” Daniel echoed. “They’re all about the wafting.”

Coyly, Catherine straightened Daniel’s lapel. “And let’s just say that Daddy got wind of those ‘intentions’ as they, ever so randomly, drifted by his soon to be retired presidential post. Let’s say he would approve if I were to move just a bit down the hall, opening the possibility of redecorating here in a much more manly motif, say to accommodate the advancement of a certain attractive, extraordinarily hard-working Senior V.P.”

“One with honorable intentions, no doubt,” Daniel added, following her train of thought.

Catherine smiled, obviously pleased with her plan. “Then, wouldn’t that make for a very Merry Christmas?”

Merry spread her ornament-making supplies out on the Bell’s kitchen table. Though she’d never intended to work with fine china, she could see how pieces of the broken heirloom dinnerware definitely added to the quality of the mix. As Merry sifted through for nicely patterned pieces, Joan unpacked a box of every day plates, loading them directly into the dishwasher.

“Did you buy those to replace this?” Merry asked. “I’ll pay for it.”

Joan brushed it off pleasantly. “No. Don’t give it another thought. This is just from my apartment. I don’t do anything but sleep there. And I figure this way, as long as we have something to eat on, Daniel won’t run out and buy new, and it’ll give me a surprise to put under the tree.”

“I’d be glad to shop for you, for your grandkids. No charge,” Merry offered.

“Thanks, but I’ve been looking forward to doing it myself,” Joan replied. “Part of the fun of being a grandma, spoiling your grandkids. And this will be the first Christmas in three years I get to do that.”

Merry thought about it. Joan was so easy to be with, an integral part of the Bell family. It was no wonder that she had remained such a welcomed and regular presence, long after Amanda’s passing. “I can’t even imagine having a mom, let alone a grandmom.”

Joan stopped what she was doing. She wandered over to the kitchen table to gaze at Merry’s project. “No family at all?”

Merry shook her head. “Just my boy, Rudy. My cat.”

Joan picked up one of Merry’s completed broken china ornaments. She complimented Merry on the way she had chosen interesting pieces, filed the sharp edges away, then fashioned wire, beads, and ribbon to set them off in such a creative way. Joan held the ornament up to the light. “Not a bad use for that old platter. Looks much better this way, if you ask me.”

“You think?” Merry asked.

“I always hated that bodacious dish,” Joan snickered. “Not like we ever used it. Left me completely cold. Way too la-di-dah for my taste. Don’t tell Daniel.”

Merry breathed a reassured sigh.

“Form follows function,” Joan continued. “That’s what they say in the art world. Doesn’t matter how elegant it looks if it doesn’t suit your family, does it?”

Merry listened intently, picking up a hint of subtext in Joan’s tone. Was Joan really saying what Merry thought she was? Merry played along, testing to be sure. “So, when you’re shopping. For him...for the dishes, I mean. You’re saying you might not get fancy china?”

Though Joan’s words remained casually discreet, her undertone continued to speak volumes. “China is, well, it’s lovely to look at, to show off at society functions. Don’t get me wrong; it has its place. But it’s kind of fragile, high maintenance, not really built for actual family living.”