Christmas, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  “Okay. Let me make sure the TV is set to record the game. Maybe we can have pie later.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Too bad Auburn couldn’t pull it out. Alabama is such a powerhouse every year. It would be nice to see somebody trounce them once in a while.”

  “I want to see LSU do it one of these days. We hate Alabama with a passion in our family.”

  “Geaux Tigers, huh? Well, you’d better not let anybody around here hear you say that. You’ll never work again.”

  SEC football was a very serious matter five months out of the year, and then it was talked about the other seven. “I can keep my mouth shut, except on game day.”

  She turned off the set and stood, slipping her shoes on. “Is it all set to record?” he asked.

  The look she gave him questioned his intellect.

  “Right. I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, then picked up the glass container from the countertop. “I’ll stick what’s left of this food in your fridge, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.”

  Could a woman be any more perfect? She was stunningly gorgeous, she actually ate real food with cheese, and bread, without worrying about gluten and fat, and she truly loved football enough to set her DVR to record the game.

  Now they were headed to help her family and others get things ready for Christmas. If someone had told Nick his life would change so drastically within a week, and he would actually be enjoying it, he’d have never believed them. But right now, his stress level was as low as it had been in years.

  “You have a funny look on your face, like you’re surprised about something,” Rachel said.

  “You’re reading my thoughts, apparently.”

  “So, tell me. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m headed out to help with Christmas decorations in Ministry, Alabama on a Saturday night and I’m fine with it. There’s actually nothing and nowhere that sounds more appealing to me at the moment.”

  She laughed out loud then. He hadn’t heard her do that since they’d met. “You poor, poor man. I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, you seem okay with it too. Here you are doing the same thing on your Saturday night. Does that mean you should be pitied as well?” he asked.

  Rachel shook her head. “No. I’m here because I choose to be. I decided after my dad got out of prison that my place was here, with my family. It wasn’t chasing the next paycheck and freelancing all over the place. I put down roots here. So, while it may not be very exciting, it’s where I now belong.”

  He nodded. “I don’t know what happened with your father, but it sounds like it was hard on your family.”

  Rachel’s expression clouded. “He wasn’t the man I thought he was my entire life.”

  He sensed her discomfort with the subject. “I wonder if we ever know anyone,” Nick said, thinking of his own parents and Monica too. She’d seemed to be one person and then she’d changed so drastically to someone he didn’t recognize.

  “Sounds like you’ve got your own load of baggage,” Rachel said.

  “I guess.” He wasn’t one to discuss his family woes either, and certainly not his love life.

  “Well, I hope you find peace with yours, because I’m still working on it,” Rachel said, her voice sad.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” he said, as they stopped just short of the square, where at least a dozen people were stringing Christmas lights on the bushes, laughing, while Christmas carols played in the background through speakers.

  Rachel turned to him then. “It just goes to show that you can’t trust anybody.” Then, she waved toward her sister, who called them over.

  That left Nick staring at her back. She was one tough nut.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hey, you two. Thanks for coming out,” Sabine said.

  “Should you be here doing all this?” Rachel asked.

  “I feel fine. Plus, we’ve got a doctor nearby if I get gas again.” Sabine rolled her eyes at Rachel and grinned at Nick. “C’mon, we’ve got lots to do. I do get tired earlier than I used to, so get cracking.”

  Rachel laughed and they followed her sister toward the truck beds filled with lights and garland.

  “Hey, Nick, could I get your help over here?” Ben called.

  “Sure.” Nick glanced at Rachel, and she waved him away.

  “So, how was dinner?” Sabine asked when Nick was out of earshot.

  “Dinner was fine. Some kind of chicken with cheese.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant and you know it,” Sabine said.

  “It was fine. He suggested coming with me to help decorate. I’m not sure why anyone would offer to do that.” Rachel looked around at the lights going up on the main street and had to admit it was very pretty.

  “Maybe he wasn’t ready for dinner to be over,” Sabine’s eye’s twinkled.

  “Well, we will be going home together, since we live in the same house right next door to each other.” Rachel pointed to the upstairs of Mrs. Wiggins storybook house a half a block away.

  “Funny, but as much as you refuse to admit it, he likes you, and I see the way you look at him.” Sabine gave her a speculative look. Rachel hated it when her sister did that.

  “Well, he is hot, and he smells nice; and so far, the only thing I have against him is he’s a man and I hardly know him.”

  “Well, that’s progress, and I’ll take it.”

  “So, what’s going on here?” Rachel gestured to the work in progress in the town square.

  “Right now, we’re hanging the lighted garland all around to get this area ready for the giant tree’s arrival Monday or Tuesday. We have a lot to accomplish before the scheduled events begin next weekend. Emma’s been working overtime with her students preparing them for the Christmas pageant,” Sabine said. Emma was a former Miss Alabama and was now the town’s pageant coach.

  “Yep. I’m taking photos during the event,” Rachel said.

  “As you know, it’s on the seventeenth, so we still have a few weeks, but that takes a lot of prep.”

  “I don’t envy Emma that job.” Pageants had never been something either of them had been involved in. Maybe it was more of a small-town Southern thing. Pageant coaching kept Emma Laroux in a full-time job, year-round, so clearly, they were very popular here.

  “She has her pageant committee, so that’s helpful. They’ve been doing this for many years, so they’re very efficient.”

  “Is it the same group that does the Pecan Pie Pageant?” Rachel asked. Because that was a well-run deal. She’d been hired to photograph the event, and as far as little and big girls competing in fancy dresses with costume changes and a talent event, Rachel was amazed at how little drama and confusion there seemed to be.

  “Yes, it’s pretty much the same organizing body, with a few different faces. It’s a similar setup, but no talent competition, and only one gown per girl, which makes the evening go faster.”

  Rachel nearly laughed that her clinical psychologist counselor sister was talking small-town beauty pageants. Not that organizing this kind of thing was completely foreign to her, because she’d been a state senator’s wife in Louisiana in her previous life, which seemed like a hundred years ago to them all.

  Having been a politician’s wife, Sabine had done a lot of community organizing, mostly charity events and benefits. Sadly, Sabine had been married to someone who’d been a corruptible fool. Her former husband was now in prison for solicitation of underage prostitutes, and for kidnapping and drugging Sabine to prevent her from divorcing him.

  It was why Rachel was so protective of her mother and sister. Both the men in their lives had proved to be total shits after they’d sworn to love and protect them. Those same men had been supposed to be reliable for Rachel too. She’d trusted them.

  “Mrs. Wiggins told me she would like to be involved with the cookie bake-off and swap,” Rachel said. “Who should I speak with about that?”

  “Hmm. I think one of Ben’s si
sters oversees that. I’ll ask and let you know.”

  “Hey, Rachel, could you come over and hold this ladder?” Ben called.

  “Sure.” Her brother-in-law wisely didn’t ask his pregnant wife to do it, and Rachel was grateful.

  Rachel stood at the bottom of a ten-foot ladder while Ben threaded lit garland at the top of a pergola in the square. There were four such structures on every side of a center green area, where the giant tree would be placed by a crane when it arrived by truck.

  She’d been hearing about the particulars for weeks about how this would all go down. “How are they going to secure the tree, Ben?” She didn’t know that detail.

  He glanced down. “They’ll attach steel cables on all sides to loops set in the concrete from previous years. The tree sits down into a heavy vice that stabilizes it before the cables are attached. So far, it’s worked well. It’s not going anywhere. We had a structural engineer come out from Auburn and draw up the plan.”

  “Sounds like y’all have this down to a science around here—this Christmas thing,” Nick said from where he was threading lights into the garland.

  “Yeah, you’d think we would hire a company to do the decorating, wouldn’t you?” Ben said. “But I’m told that would take away the specialness of what we do here in our little town.”

  “You not feeling so special right now, brother-in-law?” Rachel teased.

  “Stop complaining, Husband. I was up on a ladder beside you last year,” Sabine reminded him. “You set a good example for the residents.”

  They heard a male laugh. “Yeah, Brother, shows ’em you’re not too big for your britches,” Junior said from behind them. He’d arrived with more lights.

  “Junior, get your ass up here on this ladder,” Ben sniped at his brother-in-law.

  It was nearing eight-o-clock and more people had trickled in and were stringing lights and garland. “Looks like the Saturday night crew has arrived.”

  “Seems late to get started,” Nick said.

  “Not for a Saturday night. Plus, the football game just ended. Gave everybody a chance to eat and get the kids to bed. Lots of sitters are employed this time of year,” Sabine said.

  “Bring ’em on, I say,” Ben said.

  Maeve, JoJo, and Anna walked up carrying containers of hot chocolate and cups. “Anybody thirsty?” There was a folding table set up, so they placed the drinks there.

  Pretty soon, there was a large team of volunteers decorating the square. They’d brought more ladders and were now hanging large wreaths with big, red bows at intervals, in addition to the lights and garland.

  “Once all the lights and greenery are in place, we’ll put up the fun stuff,” Sabine said.

  “The fun stuff?” Nick asked.

  Rachel could tell by his expression that the overkill on all this was surprising to him.

  Heck, it was surprising to her as well. She’d been a part of it the last couple years, but hadn’t gotten involved in the planning and execution.

  “What do you consider fun stuff? This looks pretty fun to me,” Rachel said, gesturing toward the festive-looking lights and such.

  “This year, we’re placing oversized candy canes, snowflakes, and snowmen on all the storefronts downtown. Plus, we have all our events: the cookie bake-off and swap, the Christmas pageant, the big tree decorating, the fireworks, the 5k, the Christmas concert, the caroling, the tour of homes, and photos with Santa. If we had some actual snow, it would be perfect.”

  Sabine listed all the upcoming events as if she were reading from a list. “But you’ll have snow blowers, right?” he asked with a grin, clearly referencing the conversation from Thanksgiving Day dinner. This idea of snow blowers seemed to amuse him.

  “Yes, but only for the main celebration events. And that only works if the temperatures are low. Otherwise, things just get wet and smushy. I guess you take the good with the bad.”

  Rachel could see how blowing precipitation on a sixty-degree day in the South might make mud in a quick minute.

  She glanced over at Nick and had a feeling he was thinking the same thing.

  The climate and temps here weren’t so different from those in Atlanta most of the year. Winter was unpredictable year-to-year. Nick remembered several holidays bundling up and sledding down the big hill on the side of their house on ice and snow, and some where they’d played flag football out in the front yard in shorts and T-shirts in seventy-degree weather. But mostly, it was just dreary and somewhere in the middle around Christmas.

  Last year, his mother strongly hinted he should propose to Monica. Monica had made her expectation clear that she expected a proposal. This had made the entire holiday season very uncomfortable for everyone. He wasn’t ready for marriage. Maybe he just hadn’t been certain of his feelings for Monica at the time. His not proposing had made her insecurities worse, but it was an impossible subject to broach without actually telling her he was having doubts about the depth of his commitment to their future. A true conundrum. He’d taken the coward’s way out instead and bought her a ridiculously expensive necklace.

  Being surrounded by all this Christmas activity was bringing back some of those feelings of inadequacy he’d felt about being the cause of all that frustration and unhappiness.

  “You okay?” Rachel asked.

  “Sure. I’m fine. Just remembering last Christmas.” That was true enough, but he wasn’t sure about sharing his innermost thoughts with someone he barely knew, or with a woman who’d made it pretty clear she wasn’t interested in him.

  The multitude of twinkling clear lights all around them shone in her eyes and gave, at least, the impression of real interest. It felt genuine.

  “You seemed pretty deep in thought. Did something bad happen last Christmas?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Not really bad. I just didn’t live up to expectations is all. I was in a relationship and everyone thought it was time for a proposal. I didn’t.”

  “Oh. I guess everyone was disappointed.”

  “You could say that. My mother was at the top of that list. My girlfriend too.”

  “Now I’m dying to know what happened.”

  “I obviously didn’t propose, and we broke up recently. I didn’t feel what I believe a person should feel for someone they plan to spend a lifetime with.” Nick regretted that. The not feeling for Monica. Maybe he had the problem, but he hoped not.

  Rachel’s expression became very sad and serious. “That’s a shame. I have my doubts about finding that kind of lifetime commitment and happiness. I mean, I believe and hope Sabine’s found that with Ben, but it didn’t happen for my mom and dad, or for Sabine the first time.”

  “So, you’re a cynic about finding true love,” he said. They’d walked away from the fray just enough where they could survey the scene without anyone hearing them and had enough privacy to speak freely.

  Rachel shrugged. “I’m not sure what you would call it. Daddy issues, for sure after what happened. It affects how I view relationships now, and how hopeful I feel about my future in finding a classic happy ending. I’ve become a skeptic.”

  He nodded. “My parents’ marriage is one of the worst shams I’ve ever experienced. My mother is a miserable human being, but swears marriage isn’t about finding the person you love, or who completes you. No, she says it’s all about making a smart match, and that all the flowery stuff fades away.”

  “What do you think?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know. I hate to think I’ll end up like either my mother or my father. I’d rather be alone than make another human being that miserable.”

  Rachel shrugged. “My mom’s happy now, but only because she finally left my dad. He cheated and lied for years. But he swore he loved her.”

  “Did he?” Nick asked. “Love her, even though he cheated and lied. Is that possible?”

  “He loved her. But he had such an ego, and thought himself so important and powerful, and above mere morals, that my mother should accept i
t. She didn’t. When his powerful, important ass went to prison, she was finally able to divorce him without having to fight all the legal battles.”

  “Do they still talk?” Nick asked.

  “No. Not really. She hasn’t forgiven him, but she has moved on. Mom’s very happy with Norman, and we are thrilled they’re together. If anyone deserved another chance to find love, it’s Mom,” Rachel said.

  “Sounds like it. Do you think it takes learning from those kinds of God-awful mistakes and getting hurt that badly to get to the heart of real love?”

  “Kill me now. I’d rather avoid the whole thing,” Rachel said with certainty.

  “Me too,” Nick agreed.

  They both laughed. “I guess watching other people screw it up royally makes us just as screwed up.”

  “I never thought about it quite like that, but I guess it does make a person want more and better when it comes to their own futures. I just know I won’t ever settle for what my parents have. That’s why I broke it off with Monica.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “Almost three years.”

  “That’s a lot of history to be with someone you weren’t sure about,” Rachel said.

  He nodded. “I know. She made it—hard to break it off.”

  They’d kind of slipped away from the crowd without saying good night, but nobody but Sabine would notice, so Rachel kept walking toward home.

  “My mom says it’s never good to be the one who loves the most. Sounds like Monica loved the most in your case.”

  Nick winced. “I guess she did. That sounds pretty awful.”

  “I’ve never been in love, so I’ve never had my heart broken by a man, besides by my dad. And that was enough.”

  “Sounds like he did a number on the whole family,” Nick said.

  “In so many ways,” Rachel agreed.

  They climbed the stairs to their respective apartments. Once they arrived at her front door, Rachel stopped, put her key in lock and smiled at him. “I had a nice evening, Nick. Thanks for insisting we share your casseroles.”