Christmas Comes to Morning Star

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “You deserted me,” Mamm had repeatedly accused over the past few days. “You openly defied my authority—and you don’t even have the decency to act remorseful or repentant about it!”

  How was she supposed to answer that? In all her years of tolerating Mamm’s negativity, Jo had never dreamed there would come a time when she wanted to pack up and leave home—forever. Baking and decorating Christmas cookies for her shop had been her salvation, yet even that activity had inspired her mother’s disdain. It seemed she couldn’t do or say anything right and that she might live under this dark cloud of Mamm’s condemnation for the rest of her life.

  As she slid large pans of cookies into her glass bakery cases, Jo took comfort in the soft hum of her refrigerator and the stillness of the remodeled stable that housed The Marketplace. In a few hours, the high-ceilinged commons area would be teeming with shoppers and the noise would escalate to an amazing level, but for now the empty building provided a much-needed sanctuary—a solitude that would help her pull herself together.

  It was December fourteenth. Today and next Saturday were the final remaining shopping days at The Marketplace, so Jo had to radiate the joy and Christmas cheer her customers had come to expect of her. This was not the time to provoke their pity with red-rimmed eyes or a faltering smile.

  The click of the stable’s back door made her straighten to her full height, her stomach tightening. It was only six thirty—still dark and too early for the other shopkeepers to show up. Although she’d never had cause to worry about intruders, Jo wished she’d locked the employees’ entry.

  Moments later, Michael’s tentative smile made her heart dance even as she gripped the countertop to support herself.

  “Hey there, Jo. Are you okay?” he asked softly. “I wanted to stay longer on Tuesday—I had hoped to reassure your mamm about my intentions—”

  “She would’ve had none of that,” Jo said with a shake of her head.

  “—but I didn’t want to get you in hotter water than you already seemed to be in,” he continued. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this on my account.”

  Nelson stepped up beside his son, his handsome smile dimmed by concern. “I hope Drusilla’s settled down by now. I—I’m sorry she reacted so harshly when we took you home, Jo,” he said. “And frankly, I’m puzzled—and very disappointed—that after all the time she’s known us, she doesn’t trust us or believe that as a parent I would provide the proper environment for your visit.”

  Jo sighed. The Wengerds’ words soothed her, yet there was no undoing the emotional damage Mamm had inflicted this past week. “I’m not sure what put such a brutal bee under her bonnet. I still had a gut time seeing your place and your poinsettias, though, and I’m not sorry I did!”

  There were a lot of unsettled emotions she didn’t feel like sharing with Michael and his dat, because what good would it do? Why should she make them feel even guiltier about showing her such a wonderful time?

  There was no point in telling them her future appeared bleak and pointless, either. If she stayed home and did what Mamm considered right, she’d be miserable. And if she left home to marry Michael without her mother’s blessing, was that any way to begin a marriage? She and her mother would be on difficult terms—perhaps not speaking to each other—for the rest of their lives if she defied Mamm’s wishes again.

  Nelson nodded. “We decided to get an early start today, to be sure all of our loose ends here at The Marketplace get tied up by next week,” he began, glancing at Michael. “Considering Drusilla’s mood—and the probability of fewer customers after Christmas—it seems best to stay in Queen City for the rest of the winter and return to our store here in the spring. If you’d like an advance on our shop rent—”

  “Absolutely not!” Jo blurted before he could finish. It cut her like a knife to think she wouldn’t see Michael and his dat each Saturday—which would’ve been the one bright spot of each week. But if she expressed such a sentiment, there would be no stopping her tears before the other shopkeepers arrived. “Your space will be available for you whenever you want to sell your greenhouse items again. You’re a huge draw, and the customers around here love you.”

  I love you, too. But I can’t say that now, can I?

  Jo’s heart thudded dully as she gazed at Michael’s dear face. She saw all her hopes and dreams reflected in his beautiful eyes, even though she suspected that he, too, had known some soul-wrenching moments since Tuesday.

  He nodded sadly. “We’ve begun notifying the folks who’ve ordered poinsettias that they can claim their plants—even the ones in the commons Christmas tree display—any time. You and the other shopkeepers can keep the ones in front of your stores, though—along with your wreaths. Those were intended as gifts.”

  “That’s very generous,” Jo murmured. She looked away so the Wengerds wouldn’t see the tears filling her eyes.

  After an awkward silence, Michael cleared his throat. “Guess we’ll let you get back to your work. I’ll peek in whenever I can today—will that be all right?”

  Jo nodded, closing her eyes against the lonely pain that welled up inside her. Which would be more difficult—not seeing Michael again after Christmas, or visiting with him for a few moments here and there today and next Saturday, knowing nothing would come of it?

  When the Wengerds had gone, she resumed displaying her baked goods. Were her decorated cookies less cheerful because she’d been rushed while preparing enough of them to fill her pre-order from last Saturday? Or was her dismal mood affecting the way she saw the treats she’d arranged in her glass cases? Jo’s breads and desserts were a labor of love, yet Mamm’s recent behavior had robbed her of the pleasure she usually took in each squeeze of her pastry bag, each dollop of frosting she spread over a pan of brownies.

  “Lord, You’ve got to help me through this,” Jo rasped. She bent forward, hugging herself with the effort it required to keep body and soul together. “Have You led me to Michael—to the possibility of a marriage I never dreamed I could have—only to dash all my hopes into pieces because Mamm’s determined to keep us apart?”

  Self-pity wasn’t something Jo often indulged in, but for a few moments she allowed herself to acknowledge that her life had hit rock bottom. The future looked bleak. She couldn’t imagine how lonely and painful the rest of the Christmas season would feel—not to mention the rest of her life—knowing that the only man in the world who adored her was now out of reach.

  To whom did she owe her allegiance? Her mother—or Michael and herself?

  “Uh-oh. You’re not coming down with the flu are you, Jo?”

  The familiar feminine voice behind her made Jo straighten, blinking rapidly. “Lydianne! I was only—what brings you to the shops so early this morning?”

  One look and her friend would realize she was an emotional train wreck, but Jo turned anyway. The pretty blond schoolteacher, wearing a dress of deep cranberry red that set off her dewy complexion, stood in the doorway with a look of great concern on her face.

  “I was going to work on the bookkeeping, but if you need me to mind your shop today—oh, Jo, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Lydianne asked, entering the shop to take Jo in her embrace. “You look like you’ve lost your last friend. Did your time at the Wengerd place go wrong? We maidels were all hoping you and Michael would get along so well that you’d be dating when you came home.”

  Unable to repress her sorrow any longer, Jo began to sob against Lydianne’s shoulder. She felt awkward having to lean down to return her shorter friend’s hug, but it felt so good to have someone sympathetic to confide in. “Oh, we did get on together—so well that Michael wants to court me. His dat has given us his blessing—”

  “So what could possibly be making you cry this way?” Lydianne murmured, rocking Jo gently from side to side. “In all the years I’ve known you, I don’t recall you ever getting so upset.”

  Jo exhaled harshly, scowling as she eased away from her friend’s embrace. “Mamm,” she mu
ttered. “She’s told Nelson and Michael not to come back to the house ever again. The way she’s acting, you’d think I’d committed the world’s worst sin by visiting the Wengerd place.”

  Lydianne’s brow puckered. “She doesn’t want Michael to court you? He’s a wonderful fellow—”

  “But he’ll be taking me away from her,” Jo pointed out bitterly. “The way my mother sees it, I defied her wishes by going to Queen City. I had such a wonderful time, Lydianne, and—and the way Michael and I talked and laughed together, you’d think we’d known each other forever.”

  Jo paused to draw in a breath. Now that the schoolteacher had heard the awful truth, it wouldn’t be long before their friends and Bishop Jeremiah knew about her predicament. Jo wasn’t sure she wanted to delve into such emotional turmoil when customers would soon be coming into her store.

  But she couldn’t unsay what she’d just admitted, could she?

  “I don’t know what to do,” Jo confessed with a hitch in her voice. “Nelson feels bad, Michael and I feel we’ve been torn apart, and Mamm’s accusations and criticism haven’t let up since I came back. It’s been the worst few days of my life, and—and frankly, I don’t even want to go home today!”

  Lydianne’s clear blue eyes widened. “Oh my. You’re in a real fix,” she whispered. “If you want to bunk over at my place—”

  “That would only make it worse. Even though right now I can’t comprehend anything feeling worse.”

  Jo sighed, blotting her face with her apron. “Well, I don’t have time for this pity party,” she remarked as she glanced at her clock. “It’s nearly seven, and I have dough and batter that need to be baked. Denki for hearing me out, Lydianne. It means a lot that you’re on my side, wishing things were different now that I’ve finally met someone who—who makes me so happy.”

  Lydianne squeezed Jo’s arm. “Let’s don’t give up on your happiness before it’s even gotten off the ground,” she said earnestly. “I filled the teaching position with every intention of being in our new schoolhouse for years to come, but God—and Jeremiah—had a different idea. It might work that way for you, now that Michael’s set his sights on you, Jo. I choose to believe the best, and you should, too!”

  Jo didn’t think Lydianne could realistically predict a happily-ever-after for her and Michael, but she nodded anyway.

  “I’ll work upstairs until the doors open, and then I’ll be down here to help with customers,” Lydianne said. “You’re not in this alone, Jo. All of us maidels—and Regina, and everyone else you know—are pulling for you. The power of our positive thinking might move heaven and earth in ways none of us can imagine. After all—who ever thought I’d be marrying Jeremiah Shetler in the spring? And before that, we never could have predicted that Regina would hitch up with Gabe, either.”

  As the pretty blonde left her shop, Jo sighed yet again. Not long ago, Lydianne was being pursued by two men, because Glenn Detweiler had been determined that she should be his new wife even as the bishop was falling for her. However, that sort of fairy tale only happened for young women with trim figures and flawless features—and whose mamms didn’t interfere.

  Jo yearned to continue seeing Michael and planning to someday be his bride. But at this moment, such pie-in-the-sky hopes seemed as ridiculous as the English belief that a man in a red suit delivered Christmas gifts to all the children of the world in a sleigh pulled by reindeer.

  In times of trouble, work had always been her salvation. Jo took a batch of sweet dough from her refrigerator and rolled it into a large rectangle. As she spread on the pineapple cream cheese filling, the repetitive motions soothed her frazzled emotions. After shaping the dough into a long log and slicing it, she arranged the individual rolls into Christmas trees on three baking pans. Customers were excited about these pineapple sweet rolls, so she hoped she had enough of them.

  Jo didn’t allow herself time to think. After she made three big batches of cinnamon rolls, she poured brownie batter into four large pans. Keeping track of each item’s baking time, checking and removing the pans from her oven, and mixing the powdered sugar glaze kept her focused on the day’s business. By the time the redheaded Shetler twins came in to work, Jo had composed her emotions again.

  “It smells so gut in here!” Adeline exclaimed as she entered the bakery.

  “Customers are going to snap up all these goodies early today,” Alice predicted as the two of them tied on their white aprons. “It’s sunny and clear and cold—perfect weather for Christmas shopping!”

  “We’d better get the big coffee makers going out in the commons,” Adeline said, smiling at the pineapple cream cheese trees Jo was drizzling with glaze. “Anything else we need to do for you first thing?”

  Jo found a smile—because who wouldn’t feel better just being in the presence of her freckle-faced, cheerful assistants? “I really appreciate the way you jump in each Saturday without my having to tell you what needs doing. Why, I think you could run this shop yourselves!”

  The twins laughed, squeezing Jo’s shoulders. “You’d have to teach us all your baking tricks,” Alice pointed out.

  “We’re no strangers to making pies and cakes at home,” Adeline put in, “but you amaze me, the way you plan out so much of your Saturday baking ahead of time to serve fresh goodies.”

  “You just revealed my biggest baking secret,” Jo remarked, gesturing toward the coolers she’d emptied while she’d baked this morning. “Planning ahead is the key. Making the dough and having the fillings already mixed is the only way to have these treats soft and warm when shoppers arrive. I bake the other items all week long and freeze some of them so they don’t get dry.”

  “And you do those things really well,” Alice said with a big smile. “We’ll get the commons area set up. I can’t wait to see the shoppers today, carrying around all the stuff they’ve purchased.”

  For a fleeting moment, Jo realized that if she married Michael, the Fussner Bakery might cease to exist. If she was a wife, how could she possibly bake so many items at home during the week, or transport her dough and batters from Queen City?

  No need to worry about that, is there?

  Before her doubts ambushed her again, Jo glanced out into the commons area, where she heard the voices of incoming shopkeepers. She waved at Martha Maude, who was wheeling a cartload of quilted items into her shop in the corner. Glenn came inside, as well, and the beautiful willow chair on his dolly was ornamented by the fanciest bentwood back and arms she’d ever seen. Jo also watched the Wengerds display some fresh greenery wreaths on the big pegboard outside their shop. The folks who ran Koenig’s Krafts were placing craft kits, jigsaw puzzles, and fabric bolts on their sale tables, too.

  When Regina came around the corner, her smile lifted Jo’s spirits immediately. “Want to see something pretty?” she asked. “I embroidered a Christmas tablecloth and napkins for a gal who’s picking them up today. Had to stay up awfully late to finish them in time.”

  Jo’s eyes widened when her friend tossed her the end of the white tablecloth so they could open it out. “Oh my stars, Regina! Evergreen branches with cardinals—and look at these holly sprigs with those pretty red berries. This is surely your finest piece yet.”

  “Denki, Jo. Martin says I spend way too much time on each of my specialty pieces—and that I don’t charge enough for them,” Regina murmured. “But I can’t take shortcuts when this customer expects the same depth of detail she’s seen on my other pieces.”

  “Jah, you’ve built up your embroidery business based on the shading and bright colors you blend so well,” Jo agreed. “If your customers are willing to wait—and pay—for your best work, that’s what you have to give them.”

  Nodding, Regina carefully folded the tablecloth again. “I knew you’d understand. And Gabe realizes I’ll always be an artist at heart, even if I’m no longer painting. He says that’s the reason I was such a gut stainer when I was working at the furniture factory.”

  Jo nodded.
It was a delight to watch Regina’s love for her husband color her cheeks with a soft glow—and to know that her friend had found a man who was truly her soul mate.

  I could have the same sort of relationship with Michael someday—if I keep believing we’re meant to be together. Lydianne and Regina have made that dream come true, after all.

  “And this is for your mamm, because she loves cardinals.”

  Jo blinked. Regina was handing her a small gift bag, smiling gently.

  “Something tells me Drusilla might need a special gift this Christmas, Jo,” the redhead continued. “And you’re just the sort of daughter who’d give it to her, ain’t so?”

  Blinking back the surge of conflicting emotions Regina’s suggestion caused, Jo removed the bag’s bright green tissue paper. “Oh, this is so—let me get my wallet right now and—”

  “No need.” Regina squeezed her arm. “I started this piece a while back, just for the fun of it.”

  Jo gazed at the kitchen towel’s unique design: baby Jesus in His bed of hay, smiling at a bright red cardinal perched on the foot of His manger. “This—this is priceless, Regina,” she whispered.

  “Jah, it is,” her friend agreed, “because I couldn’t possibly put a price on our friendship, Jo. Merry Christmas.”

  “Ohhh, and Merry Christmas to you and Gabe, as well,” Jo said as she wrapped her arms around Regina. “I wish you two every happiness as you celebrate your first Christmas together.”

  A loud ding! came from the bakery, and Jo eased away from their hug. “My last batch of brownies is calling me. I’ll bring you some as soon as they’re frosted. Have a great sales day, Regina!”

  “I’m sure we all will,” the redhead said as she turned to enter the Flaud Furniture shop adjacent to the bakery.

  Jo carefully draped the embroidered towel over her countertop, away from the area where she cut and frosted the goodies she was making. After she removed the last pans of brownies and turned off her ovens, she allowed herself a moment to contemplate the unexpected gift Regina had given her.