Songs of Christmas (6 page)

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Authors: Thomas Kinkade

BOOK: Songs of Christmas
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Reverend Ben’s voice drew her back to the sermon. “. . . that sense of fulfillment is something that happens deep inside,” he was saying. “It’s something that has little, or nothing, to do with those external measures.”

Had she been comparing herself to other people too much? Did she take her advantages for granted and focus too much on things that were missing in her life right now? At least she had wonderful parents who believed in her and were happy to help in any way they could. Not everyone she knew could say that.

And she had great sisters, who were as close as best friends. She did have a lot to be thankful for. More than a list of five things, that was for sure.

Right after the sermon, the choir sang a hymn. Amanda rose with the rest of congregation and sang along. A few people turned to look at her, though she didn’t understand why.

“You’re a diva out here,” Lauren whispered. “You’d better watch out. The choir director might kidnap you.”

Amanda poked her sister with her elbow, while looking straight ahead and keeping a perfectly straight face as she finished singing the hymn.

As the service ended, Amanda’s mind was on the rest of the day. She and her family were heading to a restaurant in Newburyport for lunch. After that they were going shopping, if there was enough time. Jill had her bags in the car and had to be dropped off at the train station in the afternoon. Amanda would be sad to see her younger sister go, but at least Lauren didn’t need to leave until tomorrow morning. Amanda knew they would stay up late again, talking.

Then Lauren will be gone, too, and I’ll be back at the food shop.
That realization brought her down, but Amanda didn’t want to dwell on that now. Her sisters would be home again soon, for Christmas, and would stay even longer then.

Amanda hoped her family would make a quick exit out a side door, but Molly had other intentions and managed to steer her family into Reverend Ben’s direction. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long in the line of congregants who wanted to greet him.

“I really enjoyed the service, Reverend Ben. Especially your sermon,” Molly said. “I love that story about the corn. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Your Betty was a big help,” Reverend Ben said with a smile. “We have to give her some credit, too.”

Betty had just come out of Sunday school and ran up to Molly, clinging to her coat.

“I’m just grateful to have my girls together for a few days. That counts a few times on my list,” her father said.

“I believe it does,” Reverend Ben agreed, smiling at the older sisters. “But I guess you’ll all be leaving tonight. Except for Betty.”

“Oh, Amanda’s is home with us right now,” her father explained.

“She’s been working with me,” Molly chimed in. “Just temporarily. Until she finds something more . . . musical.”

Amanda wouldn’t have minded explaining her situation to Reverend Ben, but her parents wouldn’t let her get a word in. They forgot sometimes that she was twenty-five and capable of speaking for herself.

Reverend Ben quickly turned to Amanda. His blue eyes grew wide behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “I just happen to know of a job that is definitely more musical than working for your mother. And I’m sure you would qualify.”

“Really? What sort of job?”

“Right here at the church. Our music director, Mrs. Wilmott, just gave me notice on Friday. Her husband has been promoted and his firm wants him to start immediately, at a different branch, on Long Island. They’re leaving town this weekend and staying with relatives down there until they find a new home. I wish them all the luck in the world, of course. But, frankly, I don’t know how we’re going to get through the holidays without a music director.” Reverend Ben seemed as flustered as she had ever seen him. “Even if you helped out for just a few weeks, Amanda, I’d consider it a gift from heaven above . . . and a great favor.”

Amanda wasn’t sure what to say. The job was certainly more suited to her background than working at the catering shop. But she didn’t even know what a church music director did, besides rehearse and conduct the choir.

She glanced over at her parents. Molly looked like she was about to burst but was bravely holding back, knowing it was Amanda’s place to answer. Meanwhile, her father was making one of his blank faces that clearly said
I don’t want to influence you, but I really think this is great!
Amanda knew she had to say something. Everyone was staring at her.

“I would be very interested to hear more, Reverend,” Amanda said finally. “Can I come and speak to you about it?”

“Yes, of course. That’s exactly what we should do. Can you come to my office tomorrow? Eleven or so? I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Amanda nodded in agreement. Reverend Ben was so kind, and had known her such a long time. This would be the most relaxed interview she had ever had.

Of course her family started talking about the job as soon as they stepped outside. Lauren patted her on the back, with premature congratulations. “Good work. I think Reverend Ben would have hired you on the spot if you had let him.”

Amanda was about to answer when her mother chimed in. “What did I tell you? I knew it was a good idea to come to church today. I knew something good would come along for you, honey.”

Before Amanda could respond, her father weighed in. “We know it’s not exactly what you want, Amanda, but it would be very good experience, and will look good on your résumé. I’m sure Reverend Ben would give you a great reference when something better comes along.”

Her father already had her hired and moving on to a better job. Amanda found that speed-dial scenario amusing.

“Even if you just work there for the holidays,” Molly added. “Think of it as just a little—”

“Yes, I know, a lily pad,” Amanda said quickly.

Molly paused then nodded. “That’s right. That’s all I meant to say.”

“I bet the hours are flexible,” her father mused. “There will probably be plenty of time to practice your cello or go to auditions. I’m sure Reverend Ben would understand.”

“It all sounds great, I agree . . . except that I have no idea what a church music director does. But I’m willing to find out,” Amanda added quickly, not wanting to sound negative. “No offense, Mom. But I probably would like working at the church better than in your shop.”

“No offense taken,” Molly replied with a grin, knowing that if Amanda didn’t see another turkey or pie until next Thanksgiving, it would be too soon.

* * *

THAT NIGHT, AS EXPECTED, AMANDA AND LAUREN STAYED UP VERY
late, hanging out in the bedroom they had once shared, trying on the new nail polish and makeup they had bought in Newburyport and talking about everything: relationships with guys, the latest movies and music, life ambitions. That was one thing Amanda missed about living at home—all the closeness with Lauren and Jill.

“I miss you, Snorie,” Amanda had confessed, using Lauren’s old nickname, which was a variation of Laurie and had been inspired in the days when Lauren and Amanda shared a bedroom, though Lauren had never actually snored, as Amanda recalled. Well, maybe once or twice, when she had a cold.

“I miss you, too, Manda Bear. Why don’t we move to the same city and get an apartment together?” Lauren suggested. They were trying out some dark blue polish Lauren had found. “It worked in New York.”

“I know,” Amanda said, with longing in her voice. When they were both in school in New York, they had shared an apartment in Brooklyn. But then Lauren had taken a job in Boston, and Amanda had moved into Manhattan to share an apartment with friends.

“It would be so much fun,” Lauren said.

“It would be fun. Except that we would need jobs in the same city. I just need a job, period.”

“I think this church thing will work out. You don’t have to stay there forever. But it will get you out of Mom’s shop and back into music.”

“Does that mean you’re going to move back to Cape Light and get a job here, too? We can get an apartment in the village. In some cute Victorian with a turret room. Like sisters in a Jane Austen novel.”

At a certain point in high school, she and Lauren had devoured the complete works of Jane Austen, starting with
Pride and Prejudice
and working their way through the rest of the novels with ease. And they watched all the movie versions so many times over that they sometimes started talking to each other as if they were the Bennet sisters.

Amanda was teasing, of course. It was bad enough that she had to give up her dream of living in a big city. She would never want Lauren to meet the same fate.

“The sisters in Jane Austen novels would never be allowed to live in town on their own, Amanda. They would have to live with a chaperone, a maiden aunt, or a widowed friend of the family,” Lauren reminded her. “Besides, Mom and Dad would have a fit if we lived in town and rented instead of staying here. Maybe they would let us make an apartment in the basement. Remember when we put up all those posters and Christmas lights and turned it into a dance studio?”

“That was total genius.” Amanda smiled at the fond memories, especially of the dance routines they’d made up. “Okay, so if our jobs don’t pan out, you move back home and we’ll open a dance studio in the basement. Deal?”

Lauren laughed and shook Amanda’s hand. “Deal. Oh, sorry . . . I smudged your polish.”

They both checked Amanda’s manicure. There was a tiny smudge on her thumb, but Amanda didn’t mind. “No worries. This color is a little intense for me.” She knew Lauren loved it. She had always had a bolder fashion sense. But it reminded Amanda of model paint she had once used for a school project. “I think Sapphire Midnight nails would be pushing it a bit for my interview, don’t you?”

Lauren laughed. “Right. Not the best choice for the new church music director. We must have Celestial Pink or Heavenly Clouds around here somewhere . . .”

While Lauren searched the plastic bin where the girls stored manicure supplies, Amanda began removing the dark polish. “New church music director”? The words were a little jarring. It was not a title she had ever aspired to. But Amanda pushed her doubts aside. She would meet with Reverend Ben and hear more. One step at a time.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, SHE WOKE BEFORE THE ALARM, AND DRESSED
quickly in a dark blue sweater, gray skirt, and black boots. She pulled her hair back in a low ponytail, and grabbed a few copies of her résumé.

Molly drove both her and Lauren to town, dropping Lauren at the train station first. Amanda was sorry to see her go and knew she would be counting the days until Lauren came back for Christmas. “Chin up, Manda Bear. Text me after, right away. I have to hear what happened.”

Amanda agreed and hugged her sister good-bye. A few minutes later, Molly dropped her off at the green, in front of the old stone church. “Good luck, honey. Come over to the shop when you’re done. I’m dying to hear how it goes.” Her mom waved and pulled away.

Amanda felt a little like she’d been left off for her first day of school as she walked up the stone path toward the church. She lingered, taking in the view. A deep blue sky stretched out over the village green and harbor, reflected in the gently rocking waves, which were calm for this time of year.

The church had been built in such an illogical place, so close to the water, exposed to the harshest weather and the winds coming off the sea. But it was certainly one of the prettiest spots in town and probably proved that the early settlers had an aesthetic side and were not merely practical.

It would be nice to walk along the harbor every day if she worked here, or to be able to go into the village anytime she wanted. She hadn’t thought about that before.

Amanda entered the church through a side door near Reverend Ben’s office and suddenly felt a little nervous. Her family had been talking about the job so much, she doubted they would understand if she didn’t take it. What if she didn’t even get it? What if Reverend Ben decided he had overestimated her credentials, or the church council got involved? Amanda hadn’t even considered that.

All you have to do is listen. You don’t have to decide today,
she reminded herself.

The door to the church office was open, and Amanda walked in. The church secretary, Mrs. Honeyfield, was typing on her computer, but quickly looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Amanda. Reverend Ben is in the sanctuary. He told me to send you in when you arrived.”

“Thanks.” Amanda left the office and headed for the sanctuary. Perhaps Reverend Ben wanted to hear her play the piano or organ? Keyboards were not her main instrument, though she played well enough for the typical hymns and miscellaneous church music. If he asked her to play something, a few pieces she knew by heart came to mind. Besides, there was plenty of sheet music in the church. Amanda was sure she could find at least one piece she knew.

Just relax and take a breath. This is going to work out fine, one way or another,
she reminded herself.

Amanda was so caught up in silently coaching herself that she walked straight into a ladder set up near the sanctuary’s side aisle.

There was a momentary clatter as her shoulder hit the metal frame.

“Whoa there!” a deep voice called out from above, echoing in the empty sanctuary.

Startled, she looked up and saw a man struggling to get his balance. He reached out and clung to the metal handle of a window, waiting for the ladder to settle. Amanda felt her heart jump into her throat. She grabbed the ladder and held it firmly, trying to steady it.

“I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” she called up.

He glanced down over one broad shoulder. His face was shaded by a baseball cap, and she could hardly see his expression. “I’m still up here, not down there with you. So I guess that’s a good sign . . . Don’t you know it’s bad luck to walk into a ladder?”

Amanda squinted, taken aback by his tone. “I think the problem is walking
under
a ladder, not into one. Why did you set it up so close to the door? You should have put a sign outside or something.”

He glanced down, taking in her complaint. She had a feeling he was smiling, though she couldn’t quite see his face. He didn’t seem remorseful at all; rather, he seemed amused at her comeback.

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