The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (19 page)

What puzzled him was that Angie didn’t seem
worried. She’d said she’d be willing to move to be near Sophie, but
she probably didn’t realize what a move like that would mean for
her. Maybe it was because she didn’t really have a concept of how
far away California was from Michigan. She’d have to find all new
friends and get used to a new town. She wouldn’t be able to see her
cousins regularly.

Just when he thought he’d
worn a hole through the floor, Sophie knocked. He hadn’t heard her
pull into the drive, so she must have skied over. He let her in,
took her coat and hung it on a peg in the mud room, then offered
her a cup of coffee. Just like any friendly, neighborly
visit.
So why are my hands so
clammy?

She stirred creamer into
her coffee and put her hands around the mug, warming them. He sat
across the table from her, cradling his own mug, wondering what to
say. Wondering if he needed to say anything.
Please don’t leave
were the only
words that came to mind.

Finally, she took a deep breath and looked
into his eyes. “I owe you an apology. You were right about Jonas
Mack. He’s a total fraud. I made some calls and checked with some
legitimate agencies and they all agreed he was bad news. I’m sorry
I acted so childishly that day.”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry it worked out that
way for you. There are lots of good agents, and I’m sure one of
them will call you soon.”

“
Maybe. But I’m not going
to wait. Yesterday I signed the lease on an apartment, and I’m
going to work on my new career.”

His hand went to his gut. The pain couldn’t
have been any worse if she had stabbed him.

He forced the air back into his lungs. “So,
when are you moving?”

“
Probably in a week or
so.”

That soon?
His heart plunged to his feet. “You’re probably
packing already.”

“
Not really. There’s no
hurry. It’s not like I have all that much stuff.”

“
Oh. So, you won’t need
help?”

“
I could probably use some
help. Are you offering?”

“
Yeah. Sure. Business is
going to be slow until spring. Then it’ll be engagement pictures
and passport pictures. But January is a pretty slow month. I’ll
have time to drive to — wherever you’re going.” Aware of his
rambling, he closed his mouth.

“
Okay. That’s perfect. I
don’t get the keys until next week, and the apartment isn’t mine
until the first. That gives me some time to find furniture and
stuff before the job starts. Joanie’s giving me a few items, and
I’ve got some things in storage.”

“
You found a job already?
That’s… great.” He’d put a smile on his face and be happy for her,
if that’s what she wanted.

“
Yes, and the apartment is
only two blocks away from the theater. That way I don’t have to
drive far if there’s a big snow storm.”

“
Snow storms, in
LA?”

She laughed, and he thought about how much
he would miss the way her nose crinkled when she giggled. “No. In
Grand Rapids.”

“
Grand — you’re moving into
town?”

“
Yes. I’m the new stage
manager of the River City Dinner Theater. And if things go well
there, the owners want to expand and open another one in Holland in
a few years. If they do that, I’d be able to move back closer to
Zutphen.”

Mitch gripped his mug tighter as his mind
spun, trying to absorb the change of events. His spirits lifted as
tiny seeds of hope took root. She wasn’t going to LA. She was
moving, but only twenty miles away to downtown Grand Rapids. She
was going to—

“
Dinner theater? Will you
write scripts for them too?”

“
Maybe, after I’ve proved
myself. The owners were impressed with my credentials — I’ve
studied culinary arts for a while and I have a degree in theater.
So when I saw an ad for the new dinner theater downtown,
I—”

“
Dinner theater?” Why
couldn’t he stop repeating himself?

“
Yeah. At night. It’s not a
full time thing yet, so during the day I’ll be working in the
Community College cafeteria. That’s only a few blocks in the other
direction. I won’t even need a car. Except to come and visit
Zutphen from time to time. The city is nice, but there’s no place
to ski or hike.”

“
Grand Rapids? You’re —
you’re not moving to Hollywood?”

“
No. I thought that’s what
I wanted. I thought I needed to be a big name scriptwriter to feel
like a success. But not anymore. I’ve got family here. I want to be
here.
” She watched him closely as she
spoke.

“
I’m — glad.” Glad didn’t
begin to describe his emotions. He wanted to jump up and down,
scream, pump his fists in the air, all that stuff people do at the
end of a feel-good movie. Especially the romantic ones. He wanted
to kiss her senseless. But his hands and feet wouldn’t
move.

“
You’re glad I want to be
here?” she asked.

“
Yes. I’m really, really
glad.”

She tilted her head and fixed him with those
enticing green eyes. “Why?”

She wants me to say the
words
. “I’m glad because — that means Angie
and I don’t have to move.”

Her eyes widened. “You were going to move,
too?”

“
Yes. Well, we talked about
it.” He took a deep breath and plunged in. “Because we don’t want
to be away from you. You’re too important to us now. We need you.”
He took another breath and put his hands over hers.
“
I
need
you.”

She turned her hands so that her fingers
gripped his. “That makes me really, really glad. Because I
discovered I need you, too.”

He tugged, pulling her out of her chair and
onto his lap. She fit perfectly there, in his arms. For several
moments he simply held her tight, almost afraid she would
disappear. And then he leaned back and cupped her face. “So, the
guy that went to Hollywood without you—”

“
Nate came back home, but
he’s not important anymore. He’s the one who made me see that I’ve
been chasing an old dream, the one I had simply because I thought I
needed to be part of his plans. But I found out I don’t need that.
I’m basically a small-town girl, and Grand Rapids is big city
enough for me. I want to be here, with people who are important to
me.”

He brought her face to his and showed her
how important she was to him. Gently, he traced a path with his
lips from her eyelids, down her nose, and then around the outline
of her lips before settling there with a hungry kiss. His hands
tangled in her hair, and her arms tightened around his
shoulders.

He didn’t hear the phone ring, but he heard
Angie talking.

“
Hi, Grandma. Yes, Daddy’s
here, but he’s busy. No, he’s not working. He’s kissing Sophie. I
guess he got his Christmas Wish.”

After a pause, she
continued. “
My
Christmas Wish? I want a little brother.”

by Patricia Kiyono

Published by esKape
Press

www.eskapepress.com

All Rights
Reserved

Copyright © 2014 PATRICIA
KIYONO

ISBN-10:
1940695554

ISBN-13:
9781940695556

Cover Art Design by For the
Muse Designs

This is a work of fiction. Names, places,
characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any
similarities to actual events and/or persons, living or dead, are
purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names,
or named features are the property of their respective owners and
are used for reference only and not an implied endorsement.

Except for review purposes, the reproduction
and distribution of this book in whole or part, electronically or
mechanically, without the written permission of the publisher is
unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If
you would like to use material from the book, other than for review
purposes, please obtain written permission first by contacting the
publisher at [email protected].

Thank you for your support of the author’s
rights as provided for in the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

For subsidiary rights, foreign and domestic,
please contact the publisher at [email protected]

If you’d like to know about new releases and
giveaways, please sign up for our mailing list by visiting
eskapepress.com and completing the form on the sidebar. We will
never sell or share your information.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my fellow authors for
inspiring me to complete this book in time for its November 2014
publication. Alyssa Alexander and other members of the Mid-Michigan
chapter of RWA were awesome for organizing a month-long online
write-in at just the right time. Author Darcy Flynn directed me
toward an online group led by Candace Havens called
Book-in-a-Month, where there are “no excuses,” only words written.
Additionally, the Write-a-thon authors in another online group are
awesome cheerleaders during our weekly writing sprints.

I also need to thank Mr. Fred Iacovoni,
Managing Principal of Synergy Wealth Management, for his assistance
and advice in all things financial. My husband and I are confident
in your ability to ensure our retirement years are worry-free. And
I appreciate your willingness to see that the actions of Howard
Tillema, my fictional financial advisor, were believable.

Finally, I need to thank my husband, Mark,
for not complaining despite the many times we’ve been sitting in
the same room, but my mind is miles away. You’re a true hero in my
book.

Helen DeGroot
stretched
her arm up as far as it would go,
but her fingertips just wouldn’t reach the last can of almond paste
way in the back of the high shelf. She needed that can to make her
special
banket
for
tomorrow’s knitting club meeting. Normally she’d find a tall, young
stocker and ask for help, but none were in sight. She sighed. One
more reason to miss her tall, handsome husband. Joe had been gone
almost five years, and the crushing pain of loss still hit
occasionally, taking her by surprise with its intensity and
suddenness, although the episodes happened less often. Right at
that moment, though, she wanted to scream and shake him for leaving
her alone at a time like this.

“
Joe, where are you when I
need you?”

“
I’m not sure where Joe is,
but I’d be happy to reach for what you want. Are you trying to get
this last can of almond paste?”

The deep voice coming from behind startled
her so much she nearly stumbled. Spinning around, she came
eye-to-eye with a deep onyx tie pin set on a burgundy silk tie.
Backing up, the tie became the focal point on a crisp white linen
shirt under a nice navy jacket. By the time she felt the shelf
behind her, the picture included a nice physique and a tasteful and
expensive sense of style.

“
Um, did you decide not to
get the almond paste?” The velvety bass tones would sound so
wonderful in the church choir.

Almond
paste
. Right. She raised her gaze up a few
more inches to take in the face attached to the stylishly dressed
body. It was a very pleasant face, surrounded by an appropriately
stylish cut. “Oh — thank you so much. Yes, I’d like that jar of
almond paste, please. Can’t make
banket
without it.”

The brilliant blue eyes
crinkled at the corners as the full lips curved upward.
“Ahh,
banket
. It’s
been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of that particular
Dutch treat. I guess I really am back in West Michigan.” He reached
over, easily getting the desired jar and handed it to her with a
flourish. “There you are. I hope your family appreciates your
efforts.” He gave a short bow and walked away.

Helen had heard of women
drooling at the sight of a man, but she’d never experienced it —
until now. She swallowed, glancing around before wiping the excess
off her lips.
My, my.
How long had it been since she’d had such a
reaction?

No. Stay focused. Nothing
would be gained by such immature notions!
Checking her cart to ensure she had all the ingredients she
needed, she headed toward the checkout lane. At sixty years of age,
she didn’t need to be drooling over a handsome man. Fantasies like
that wouldn’t help her finish all the work waiting for her at home.
Besides making the
banket
, she had to get started on a
script for the annual Christmas pageant for Zutphen Community
Church. It was already late September and rehearsals would begin
next week. She’d procrastinated long enough.