Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  Tara’s voice hummed on the other end of the line, causing Gloria’s brow to wrinkle in thought.

  “Yeah, I suppose I could do that,” she said.

  The voice buzzed out a few more sentences as Gloria wandered back to the kitchen. “Sure… okay, I’ll meet you at the boutique in twenty minutes.” She dropped into a kitchen chair and retrieved her mug. There wasn’t time to dawdle, but she wasn’t one to waste a good cup of coffee.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Gloria drove down Main Street, searching for a place to park. She would have made it on time, had she not stopped to drop off her last three Christmas cards on her way.

  The little community bustled with activity, and the air was alive with excitement. People of all ages rushed in and out of stores and shops, under the ageless Christmas decorations flapping in the breeze.

  Finally finding a place to park, she hurried to lock the car and hustled back toward the boutique. Last minute shoppers called out greetings to each other, with their bright-eyed children clinging to their hands.

  Bells rang out merrily when she entered the boutique, making her smile. Tara, Julia and Becky stood at the counter chatting with a group of shoppers. Little Isabelle sat tucked on Tara’s hip, playing with the tassel on her mother’s shawl, oblivious to the hubbub around her.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Gloria apologized. “I had to make a few stops on the way.”

  Julia smiled, offering a hug. “You’re fine. We’re obviously not making much progress. And Merry Christmas Eve!”

  Welcoming the warm greeting, Gloria returned the hug. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Casting a glance toward Tara, still deep in conversation, Julia chuckled. “If I can ever drag her away,” she motioned toward her friend, “we’ll head up to Pittsburgh.”

  Gloria waved at Isabelle, causing the baby to grin. “Tara said something about a delivery you needed to pick up?”

  Julia winced. “Yeah. Somehow several of the wreaths I ordered for the pageant didn’t get put on the truck this morning. Tara thought if we drove up together we could have a few uninterrupted hours to go over every detail of the pageant.”

  Nodding, Gloria agreed.

  “I was hoping Lizzie and Winnie would want to come, but they decided to stay and make sure the bake sale was on track. It’s a busy day, with all the women delivering their goodies to sell.”

  “It’s all so exciting!” Gloria gushed. “I can’t believe the pageant is tonight! I’m like a little kid at Christmas.”

  Julia smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. “I like that about you.”

  Tara finally moved away from the group. “You guys ready?”

  Gloria reached for Isabelle. “Come here, sweetie,” she crooned. Once the baby was settled on her hip, she tucked a blanket around Isabelle, then looked up. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Let’s hit the road,” Julia said, heading for the door.

  When Tara reached the door of the boutique, Ned took the handle from the outside, opening the door wide and holding it for the women.

  “Thanks,” Julia said, stepping through.

  Gloria smiled as she passed, and Ned took a moment to touch the baby’s cheek. “Hey, you,” he said.

  “How are you today?” Gloria asked, doubling her grip on the squirming baby who was reaching for Ned. “Have you recovered from last night?”

  He snorted. “I suppose. Sorry about all that.”

  “Sorry?” She scoffed. “I loved it. You have a delightful family.”

  He sighed, tugging off his cap to run his fingers through his hair. “I really d—do. They just drive me crazy.”

  “Well I adored them,” she added, hiking the baby higher on her hip to get a better grasp. The baby fussed, crying and reaching for Ned. Tara stepped up and took the baby, her expression apologetic as she moved back to let the couple talk.

  Ned pulled the cap back on his head and glanced over Gloria’s shoulder, then back to her face. He grimaced. “I w—wanted to let you know I won’t be there t—tonight.”

  At first, his words didn’t sink in, then they felt like a punch in the gut. “What do you mean?” she gasped, “Surely you won’t miss the pageant. Not after all the work you’ve done.” Realizing she was being overly emotional, she stopped, but her hands were shaking, and she felt sick.

  His face fell. “D—don’t be mad, I know it seems like a shock, b—but I have obligations that were already scheduled f—for tonight, even before I was asked to do the b—backdrops. Justin and Elliot know I w—won’t be there, but I wanted to tell you in person.”

  Gloria folded her arms across her chest, knowing full well she was acting ridiculous, but she was unable to stop. “I understand,” she said, her voice small and choked with emotion. When had she gotten so attached to Ned, she wondered in surprise.

  She unfolded her arms, giving herself a good shake. “It’s okay, really,” she said, working to calm her expression. Besides, she reasoned, tonight she would find out who the secret letter writer was anyway.

  Suddenly she wondered how she would have handled being with Ned when she was introduced to the author of her secret love letters. Awkward. Sure, she and Ned were only friends, but the thought of being with both Ned and the mystery man felt wrong somehow.

  Gloria saw that Tara and Julia were buckled in Tara’s truck, waiting for her. “I have to go,” she said, motioning toward the truck. “Maybe I’ll see you—” When? On Christmas Day? She had no good reason to assume she’d see him at all, except for maybe around town in the weeks to come.

  Besides, she reminded herself, she wanted to prove she wasn’t looking for a man at the pageant. Not that Ned was a man, he was a friend. No, of course, he was a man. The whole thing was so confusing.

  “I’ll call you,” he assured, bobbing his head toward the truck. “Go ahead.”

  She turned to go, but it felt as if she were leaving behind something special, something she’d earned and valued. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later then,” she said, walking backward.

  He lifted a hand, his face looking forlorn and regretful.

  Gloria’s back bumped into the side of the truck, and she jolted to attention, embarrassed. With her cheeks burning red under her freckles, she hurried around the truck and yanked open the door to climb in.

  “What was that all about?” Tara asked, checking over her shoulders to back out onto Main Street.

  But all Gloria could hear was the jarring sound of the truck door closing on her time spent with Ned.

  * * *

  The traffic in downtown Pittsburgh was a mess, well over a hundred times worse than Smithville traffic had been. Once they reached the floral warehouse, it was clear that several orders must have been botched, because the line was long and the people waiting were frustrated. It took well over an hour to straighten out the confusion and load the coolers full of wreaths into the back of the truck.

  Climbing up into the back seat, Tara puffed out a long breath as she buckled Isabelle into her car seat. “How about we find some lunch?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Julia said clicking her belt.

  Gloria pulled out her phone to check the time. It was still hours until the pageant started so they had plenty of time. To tell the truth, she was feeling a bit nervous and uneasy about the evening ahead, knowing she’d meet the letter writer and all. “Okay,” she said agreeably. “Where do you want to go?”

  Tara climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled her seatbelt. “There’s a nice café that I used to come to with Winnie when we were in town. It’s not far from here.”

  Gloria shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Is that the one that somebody from Smithville started years ago?” Julia asked.

  Tara nodded and changed lanes, checking her mirrors as traffic swarmed around them like bees. “Yeah, they sold it a long time ago, but seems like folks still use it as a go-to place when they’re in town.”

  Only half listening, Gloria hunched in her
seat, oblivious to the Christmas music pumping from the radio and the swarms of happy shoppers. All she could think about was getting through the pageant without Ned being there to joke with her, make her laugh, and distract her. Plus she had the added stress of wondering what to wear and how to do her hair. What would she even say to the mystery man? It’s not like she was super articulate. What would he expect? Somehow the whole evening was turning into a giant, complicated, mish-mash.

  With a jolt, she realized the truck had stopped, and her friends were getting out. This is ridiculous, she thought, and resolved to pull herself together. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and she was acting like a boob. No one had died, and she had exciting things to look forward to. So, what was her problem?

  Tara bundled a blanket over Isabelle’s head as she hefted her out of the truck, mindful of the cold wind. Gloria hardly noticed the weather as she followed her friends into the restaurant.

  “Are you okay?” Julia asked, ever mindful of a friend who may be feeling down.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry,” Gloria assured her friend. “Just lost in thought.”

  Julia regarded her suspiciously as she held open the door. “If you say so.”

  Feeling like a heel for being such a wet blanket, Gloria shrugged off her mood. The restaurant had plenty to look at as they waited to be seated. It was definitely upscale, she noted, and she wondered if she had enough money on her card to afford lunch.

  “Three?” the hostess asked, collecting menus from behind the desk.

  Tara nodded. “And a highchair please.”

  The woman glanced at little Isabelle and couldn’t help but smile at the radiant baby.

  Little Isabelle grinned back with her hair standing on end from being covered.

  “This way please,” the hostess said, motioning for them to follow.

  The group trooped after the woman. Gloria noticed the fine furnishings, the windows decorated with Tinsel trim, and the cheerful holiday music pumping through the room. Her shoulders relaxed, and she took a long breath in through her nose. Luscious smells of food of all sorts made her stomach grumble.

  The hostess stopped at a table, and Tara wrestled the baby from her coat. Julia took a seat across her, and Gloria moved around the table toward an empty chair. The woman at the next booth glanced up, making eye contact, and Gloria couldn’t help but notice how stunning she was. How did some women manage such a put-together, glamorous look, she wondered as she pulled out her chair. Her own clothes were lovely, thanks to Beatrice, it must her lack of confidence or her flair for— As she went to sit, her eyes wandered to the man seated with the woman, and she froze. Her mouth fell open in shock as she stared into the startled eyes of Ned.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The world tilted on its axis as Gloria struggled to make Ned’s face fit onto the fashionably dressed man sitting in the booth with, what she could only call, an absolute beauty. The words what is he doing here rang over and over in her mind. But it wasn’t long until it they were replaced by what is he doing with her?

  “Gloria!” he choked, then cleared his throat, his eyes bouncing from her to Tara and Julia, then to the woman across from him and back. All the color melted from his face, and his skin turned a peculiar shade of green.

  Unable to say a word, Gloria stared, stuck halfway into her chair, frozen in space and time.

  “Ned?” Tara gasped, her eyes wide in surprise. “Is that you?”

  Julia, though shocked, kept silent, carefully watching Gloria.

  Ned scrambled out of the booth to stand, and a cloth napkin fell from his lap and landed on the floor

  Gloria’s eyes roamed down the length of his fit body, taking in his expensive collared shirt, tie, and fitted trouser pants. It was as if Ned’s head had been transplanted onto a wealthy, city man. She dropped into her chair with a bump, like a limp doll.

  Ned’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down convulsively. “Allow me t—to introd—duce—” he swallowed hard, motioning toward the woman. But with his attention fixed on Gloria’s stricken face, he left the sentence hanging wide open.

  “Marjory,” the woman said in a low, cultured voice.

  No one moved or said a word, so Marjory scooted to the side of the booth and stood, then smoothed down the skirt of her superb suit. Well aware that all eyes were on her and unperturbed by it, maybe even reveling in it, she held out a hand to Gloria. “It’s lovely to meet you—”

  Gloria bounded to her feet, nearly tossing her chair over backward in her haste. She placed her fingers in the woman’s hand, allowed them to be dipped up and down one time, then tugged her hand back. “I’m Gloria,” she said. Her words stilted and her mouth dry.

  Ned remained silent, his eyes darting from face to face.

  “You must be from Smithville,” Marjory said, her words smooth and refined with an indistinguishable but beautiful accent. Obviously curious, she turned to Tara and put out her hand.

  Not one to hide her feelings, Tara glared at Ned but extended her hand toward the woman. “Tara,” was all she said.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, and the sweet child?”

  Desperate to help, Julia jumped in. “I’m Julia, and this is Isabelle.”

  “Truly charmed,” the woman said, sounding sincere.

  Ned floundered; his arms hung limply at his sides. He looked desperate, as if he wanted to explain, but couldn’t bring himself to speak.

  “We were just leaving,” Marjory said. “But I’m so glad we got to meet.”

  Only silence met her words, so she turned to Ned. “Shall we?” she asked, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.

  Ned didn’t respond, so Marjory gave him a sharp tug.

  Looking over his shoulder, Ned stumbled along beside the woman, his eyes stuck on Gloria’s face, pleading with her to understand.

  Oh, she understood alright. She seethed, watching them walk away.

  But wait, a voice in the back of her mind screamed. Ned is your friend. Has he ever so much as held your hand? Kissed you?

  Of course not! The other side of her brain yelled back. You’ve kept him locked securely in the friend zone!

  Her head spun as the room came back into focus.

  Tara and Julia wordlessly stared at her, waiting for some indication as to how she was going to react. Isabelle screeched and beat on the table, breaking the spell, and Gloria dropped back into her seat.

  “Of all the nerve!” Tara huffed, waving a toy in front of the baby to shush her. “Who does he think he is, waltzing around up here with a fancy woman!”

  “It’s okay, Tara,” Gloria said. Even though she felt as if the life had been choked out of her. She tried to smile. “Ned and I are only friends.”

  “Friends? Huh!” Tara spat. “Do friends hide— hide” she waved her hand to indicate the room. “…all this? Do they?”

  “Really,” Gloria said, lifting her menu as if she could see or read anything at this point. “Nothing has happened between us. I haven’t wanted Nadine and others to think I was flirting. So, I haven’t.”

  Julia reached over to place her hand on Gloria’s cold fingers. “Are you sure?” she asked, her words and face making it clear she knew better.

  Then, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head, Gloria felt a sharp pang of insight.

  When on earth did I fall in love with Ned? How had this happened? In shock, she looked to Tara, then to Julia.

  And how did her friends know all about it, when she’d had no idea?

  * * *

  The choir’s voices rose clear and true into the night over the Christmas pageant. A few clinkers fell here and there, but the hearty spirit of the rag-tag group was undeniable as they belted out Hark the Herald, Angels Sing.

  Gloria hunched into her coat, trying to hide. Feeling awkward and alone, she half expected Beatrice to pop out and tell her she’d put her shirt on backward or worn the wrong boots.

  “The costumes look great!” Justin said in horse whi
sper as he passed, hurrying to adjust the lights for the finale.

  She bobbed her head in thanks, but the compliment repeated by many, didn’t stick. She was too miserable.

  Peeping around the side of the bandstand, she scanned the crowd. Nearly everyone she knew was out there. She could see Julia and Chad reining over the manger scene, making sure the shepherds didn’t conk Joseph or Mary with their staffs. Winnie was holding court at the bake sale, her face a wreath of smiles. Tara enthusiastically led the choir, her arms pumping up and down in rhythm to the music, as if she were leading the Philharmonic.

  So where was her Prince Charming? The one who’d single-handedly changed her life by sweeping her off her feet and into a romantic dream? She scoffed. With her luck, he would be fifteen, or fifty, or married, or something as equally horrible.

  With a long sigh she turned to lean against the pillar and stare up at the stars. This whole day had been a mess, she thought, unable to stop going over and over the meeting with Ned. His face, stark and drawn, kept floating before her eyes. Just thinking about it made her feel as if she’d been caught letting him down.

  The song ended, and the choir began Away in a Manger. Gloria knew this was the last carol of the evening, ending the pageant. She turned back to stare out over the crowd gathered on park benches, bundled in coats, scarves, blankets and hats.

  The children from the nativity scene recognized the song, and when they reached the chorus, the group got up to head over and join the choir. Julia bent to retrieve a grinning tiny Isabella from the manger. She was the happiest baby Jesus ever. Only her chubby little face showed from under the blankets acting as her swaddling clothes.