Small Change (26 page)

I
t was Thanksgiving weekend, and the three friends had gathered at Rachel's house to start preparing their holiday gifts.

“Gosh, I miss this place,” Jess sighed as she stood at Rachel's sink, bottling the liqueur they'd made from the blackberries they picked over the summer. The women had been scrounging and saving salad dressing bottles all fall and now a variety of sizes sat on the kitchen counter next to Jess, waiting to get filled with either berry syrup or liqueur.

“It's not the same without you,” said Tiffany, who was busy decorating their gift bottles with curling ribbon. “The new neighbors are so not fun.”

“Maybe they need time to settle in,” Jess suggested.

“They're settled all right,” said Rachel with a frown. She wiped a dribble of liqueur off a bottle and set it on the table. “I told you how Mrs. Wellton called to complain about the noise when we were having our Halloween party, didn't I? It wasn't even ten yet. Fine neighbor. Did I complain when her stupid cockapoop dug up my strawberry plants?”

“You'd better take her some syrup for Christmas,” said Jess.

“Can I lace it with drain cleaner first?” cracked Rachel. “This is all your fault for leaving us, you know.”

“Well, I'm paying for it,” said Jess with a smile that looked forced. “I have to use a pink bathroom.”

“I think pink accessories are pretty,” said Tiffany.

“This isn't just accessories. Everything's pink: tiles, tub, shower curtain, even the toilet paper. It's like taking a bath inside a Pepto Bismol bottle.”

“If I lived with my mother-in-law I'd have to take Pepto-Bismol every day,” said Tiffany, wrinkling her nose.

“My mother-in-law is great, and she loves to cook, which is a good deal for me. The hardest part is Michael's not having found a job yet.”

“That's tough,” Rachel agreed. Boy, did she feel his pain.

“I know it frustrates him,” said Jess, “but he's trying to keep a positive attitude. Thank God at least Mikey is working full time. Who knew getting lost in the woods would turn out to be such a good thing?”

“A good thing would be you moving back,” said Rachel.

“Maybe we will someday. Who knows?”

“I wish you were going to be here for Christmas,” said Tiff. “It's not gonna feel right without your Christmas open house.”

“I guess you'll have to carry on the tradition,” Jess told her. “We'll come. Speaking of holidays,” she said, turning an inquisitive eye on Rachel. “How was your Thanksgiving with Chad's sister and her family?”

Now, there was something nice to dwell on. “Perfect. Let me tell you, they know how to celebrate. Chad's sister says any excuse for a party and any reason to be thankful works for her.” Thinking
back, the day was a swirl of laughter, music, and spicy food. She'd enjoyed the jalapeño-spiked cornbread and turkey mole, the fried ice cream to go with the pumpkin pie. With the warm welcome, the games, and impromptu dancing she had felt right at home. Surprisingly, so had her children. She could still see Claire and David in the middle of the living room, rocking out to Latina singer Belinda.

“Christmas is coming. I bet you'll get a ring,” predicted Tiffany.

“If he can afford one,” teased Jess.

“He bought another rental house, so I guess business is picking up,” said Rachel.

“So, he's actually telling you something about his balance sheet? That's a good sign,” said Jess.

Everything about the way the life she was building with Chad was a good thing. She had yet to meet his parents, but she was sure that was coming soon. He had already talked about taking her to eastern Washington for a visit in the spring. They'd even discussed driving down to California to visit her mother. If that didn't hint at happily-ever-after she was going to give away her romance novels.

“You know this is the first time in forever that I haven't been at the mall doing the Thanksgiving weekend sales,” said Tiffany, putting ribbon around the last bottle of liqueur.

Tiff had been doing so well with her budget and was close to paying off her first credit card. Rachel exchanged a concerned look with Jess.

Tiff caught it. “Don't worry. I don't really miss it. Of course, I'd have saved a lot by shopping today.”

That was the kind of attitude that had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

“But I saved so much more doing all this with you guys,” she added with a grin. “I'm so proud of us.”

Jess smiled. “Me, too. We're all doing what we have to do and it's paying off. We just have to remember that this Christmas.”

“Anyway, Christmas isn't about stuff. It's about being with the people you care about and making memories,” said Tiff.

“So, we're going to have a nice, simple holiday this year and make lots of new memories,” Rachel concluded as she and Claire and David enjoyed their Sunday night treat of popcorn and chocolate shakes.

Somehow, the atmosphere in Rachel's kitchen wasn't as glowing as it had been the day before with Jess and Tiffany.

“Does this mean we're not going to the
Nutcracker
?” asked Claire with a frown.

“I don't want to go to that again,” said David, making a face. “That's girl stuff.”

“That is not girl stuff,” Rachel corrected him. “It's culture. And no, I'm afraid not.” They'd made a tradition of going into the city and spending the night, eating at a nice restaurant, and then enjoying the Pacific Northwest Ballet's performance of the beloved masterpiece. Last year Rachel had managed to take the kids in for lunch and a matinee performance and that had been fine with Claire. This year even that was more money than she could justify spending considering her unsteady income.

“But we always go,” Claire protested.

Looking at her daughter's unhappy face, Rachel waged an inner battle between guilt and responsibility. For a moment she was
tempted to charge it, find a way to pay for it later. But that would be guilt spending and she was past that. Wasn't she?

Absolutely. “I'm sorry, sweetie,” Rachel said. “I can't afford it this year. You know I'd take you if I could.”

“It's so not fair,” Claire said, scowling.

“I know,” Rachel agreed, nobly resisting the urge to remind her daughter that life wasn't fair.

“Okay, fine,” Claire said in her best snotty voice. “I didn't want to go anyway.” She shoved away from the table, leaving her shake half finished.

“Hey, are you going to eat that?” David called after her.

“No.”

He gleefully pulled his sister's glass to him, leaving the women to sort out their problems.

Rachel started to go after her daughter and then changed her mind. What was the point in chasing Claire to her room and promising something she couldn't afford to give. So instead she decided to blog. She typed in her title: “ 'Tis the Season to Be Frugal,” and then let the words flow.

You should not feel guilty for being financially responsible,
she concluded. Now, there was something every mother in America needed to hear this time of year. It was very true, very wise.

Very depressing. There had to be some way she could take her daughter to the
Nutcracker.
She began to poke around online. After a few minutes she'd found the perfect solution. Coeur de Danse, Heart Lake's dance studio, was putting it on, and for what they were charging she could afford to do both the
Nutcracker
and the Christmas tea special that Sweet Somethings was running through December.

She left her computer in search of Claire.

Her knock on her daughter's door only brought a tearfully dramatic “I don't want to talk.”

“Not even if I told you I found a way for us to go to the
Nutcracker
?” Rachel asked and waited for the thunder of happy feet.

Sure enough. A moment later the door swung open. There stood her daughter, tears still on her cheeks, eyes full of excitement. “Really?”

“Almost really.”

The brows knit.

“We can't go in to the city, but I can take you to a local performance and we can do Christmas tea at Sweet Somethings. That's the best I can manage this year. Are you good with that?”

Claire's face lit up. “Yesss!” She threw her arms around Rachel's neck and hugged her. “Thanks, Mommy.”

“You're welcome,” Rachel said, hugging her back.

Claire pulled away, biting her lip and looking at their feet. “I'm sorry I wasn't very nice.”

Rachel raised her daughter's chin so they could look each other in the eye. “You weren't, and I understand you were disappointed. But sometimes we can't get what we want. I'm doing the best I can for all of us. I hope you know that.”

Claire nodded.

“Good.” Rachel hugged her again. “We'll have a good time. In fact we'll have a great time.”

“We will,” Claire agreed.

And they did. Claire loved the tea at Sweet Somethings, consuming every cookie on the three-tiered cookie plate and eating both Rachel's scone and hers, leaving it to Rachel to consume the cucumber tea sandwiches. The
Nutcracker
performance was amateur,
but Claire didn't seem to care. In fact, as they left the Heart Lake High auditorium where it had been performed, she asked, “Could I take dance lessons?”

“I think dance lessons would be great. Tell Daddy. I bet he'd love to see you up on that stage,” Rachel said, giving her daughter a hug. There. Aaron liked lavishing gifts on the kids. He could pay for the dance lessons and she'd come to the performances.

Later, Rachel wrote triumphantly in her blog:
I have concluded that there are always frugal alternatives to favorite activities. You just have to look for them.

That, she decided, would make a good subject for a chapter in her book.

So would chronicling the various triumphs of the Small Change Club. And Tiffany would deserve special praise.

She was literally dancing when she met Rachel and Jess at her front door. “I paid off my first credit card!”

With squeals and laughter, the three women managed a group hug that turned Tiff's entryway into a mosh pit.

“Come on out to the kitchen,” said Tiff. “Brian's got champagne for us.”

They followed Tiffany to her kitchen to find Brian standing at the counter, uncorking a bottle of modestly priced champagne. Nearby sat a small plate of truffles from the Chocolate Bar. “So how great is my girl?” he greeted Rachel and Jess.

“She rocks the house,” said Jess.

The champagne cork came out with a pop, making Tiffany jump and then giggle. “Brian got us the chocolates, too.”

“I figured you deserve to celebrate,” he said, pouring champagne into the first glass. He produced an intimate smile for Tiffany. “I'm really proud of you, Tiffy baby,” he said, and
handed her the glass. She took it with pink cheeks, and he handed glasses to Rachel and Jess. “She used every cent she's earned to pay off that card,” he bragged. As if her two best friends didn't know. “So, a toast,” he said. “To my wife, who's paid off a fortune and is priceless.”

“To Tiffany,” echoed Rachel and Jess.

“And to my great friends, who helped me stay on track,” added Tiff with a smile. “By this time next year the other one will be gone and we'll be debt free.” Looking at Brian, she added, “I'm never letting myself get in a mess like that again. It is so not worth it.”

“I guess it's not bad to have a card to fall back on for emergencies,” said Jess.

“But Brian and I have decided it's better to have money in savings,” said Tiffany with the zealous enthusiasm of a new convert. “That way we can earn interest instead of pay it.”

Rachel helped herself to a truffle. “What I have in savings right now wouldn't even earn me enough interest to buy one of these. But slow and steady wins the race. Hmmm. I think I'll put that in my book.”

“So, are you really gonna write one?” asked Tiff.

“Why not? You never know. Maybe I'll become the next Suze Orman.”

“Between Jess and her band and you and your book, one of you guys is bound to get famous,” Tiffany predicted.

“From your lips to God's ears,” said Rachel. “Never mind the fame, though. I'll take the money,” she added with a grin.

Ten minutes later Brian took off for the gym, leaving the women to enjoy working on their latest craft. “Okay, I've got six garage sale teacups for our teacup candles,” said Rachel. “Did you bring the votive candles?” she asked Jess.

Jess held up a little bag from Vern's. “Got 'em. And I brought my glue gun.”

“Then let's get to work while I'm still awake,” said Jess. “I tell you, I can't stay up till two in the morning anymore and then get up at the crack of dawn.”

“This is the crack of dawn?” teased Rachel.

“It was when I got up,” Jess retorted.

“That's the price you pay for being a hot band chick,” Rachel informed her.

“Speaking of my band, who's going to come hear us play on New Year's Eve? I need to reserve space at the band table.”