One Bright Christmas

by Katherine Spencer

  “Thank you, Fran . . . I’m going to hold you to it this time,” Lucy insisted.

  The friends hugged and headed separate ways to get on with their Mondays. Lucy’s head was spinning. Leave it to Fran. Lucy had never even considered that Craig might get in touch with her. Now that the possibility was on the table, she felt even more unnerved about his presence in the town.

  Even if he knows I’m still here, he won’t have the nerve. He’ll be too embarrassed about how he ditched me. He might act all nice and “regular guy-ish” with his fans, but he is a movie star. He’s got to have some ego and pride. He’s not going to lower himself to apologize to a little, ordinary person like me.

  Though the idea of it had struck her cold with dread, Lucy knew the notion was laughable. Craig Hamilton was not going to seek her out. It would be an easy thing to avoid him for the next two or three weeks. Then she would shut the door again on her memories of that chapter of her life. Shut the door and forget it had ever happened. Just as she had all these long years.

  * * *

  * * *

  “Didn’t expect to see you back so early. Did they postpone the closing?” Joe was standing in the law office’s reception area, and he looked up from a pile of message slips in his hand.

  “Not at all. It’s signed, sealed, and delivered,” Lauren reported as she sailed into the office.

  She’d gone straight to a house closing at a local bank that morning. Contracts 101 for her, though Joe had expected the assignment to be challenging after the inspection reported an ailing furnace.

  “Of course, they brought up the furnace first thing,” she added. “But I negotiated a sum for repair or replacement to be held in escrow. No other surprises. Everyone left happy.”

  Joe looked happy, too, and rewarded her with a sunny smile. “Good job. And fast. Maybe I need to find more work for you than I expected.”

  The dispute had been a no-brainer, not a deal breaker, Lauren thought, but it was still nice to be praised.

  She had actually been glad for the appointment out of the office this morning. She had felt a bit nervous last night, wondering how it would be between her and Joe in the workplace after their date on Saturday night. Despite her qualms, she’d genuinely enjoyed herself and found that they still had a lot to talk about over dinner, just like old times. When he drove her back to her parents’ house, there had been an awkward moment as they said good night. But ever the gentleman, Joe simply leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, in a restrained and mostly friendly way. Then he smiled and said, “I know you have your plans and don’t intend to stay, Lauren. But things can change. I want you to know I’m willing to wait and see how it goes.”

  “Umm. Okay, Joe.” Lauren had not known how to answer him beyond that—for once in her life, she was at a loss for words. She squeezed his hand and headed for the front door.

  She was glad to see her sisters were not up waiting for her report. Though on the other hand, she wouldn’t have minded some help interpreting Joe’s promise.

  She did see a recurring theme in his words—he was still willing to wait for her feelings about him to change. Was he foolish to keep hoping? Or did he see something between them that she was unable, or not quite ready, to see?

  This morning, she found him as friendly as ever but all business, which was a relief.

  “Speaking of more assignments, Paul Hooper at the club just got in touch. The board isn’t satisfied with McGuire patching the fence. They want to be reimbursed for the damage caused by the ‘all you can eat’ sod buffet.”

  “Really?” Lauren felt uneasy at that news. The client had asked for and received a solution. She didn’t like to hear that they were backtracking and asking for more. “They should have stated that up front, don’t you think?”

  Joe didn’t answer. “Let’s step into my office,” he said smoothly. “I’ll show you the message.”

  Lauren followed Joe into his spacious office, decorated in a traditional style with a big wooden desk and leather chairs. A dark green area rug with a Persian pattern and high wooden bookcases filled with law books completed the decor. His many diplomas, certifications, and professional awards covered a wall behind the desk. The opposite wall, above a tufted leather couch, displayed photographs of the village taken in the 1800s, along with more recent photos—scenic shots from his travels to distant places.

  At least he left Cape Light once in a while, Lauren reflected, then felt a bit mean at the silent but snide observation.

  Joe took the chair behind his desk, the high, tufted chair like a leather throne. He riffled through papers on the blotter. “It’s a small town, Lauren. We need to be careful when we discuss our clients, even in the office.”

  Lauren knew he was right. “Sorry. I should have waited to vent in private. But it really isn’t fair.”

  He glanced at her curiously, then handed over a printout of Paul Hooper’s email. “That’s an odd thing to say. This is what they want. At least, what they want us to ask for. You need to go back to McGuire and make him understand that it’s the principle of the thing. And that the animals did real damage to the course.”

  Lauren glanced down at the email, which included an estimate to repair the greens where the animals had dug and dined. Her eyes grew wide at the bottom line.

  “This number is a little high, don’t you think? I mean, it’s not like McGuire’s property is a business with insurance or deep pockets. He’s a private individual. Living in a tiny cottage next to a barn,” she added. “You ought to see what he drives around in.”

  Her defense of Cole McGuire surprised her. But despite her pit bull training, Lauren had always been informed by a strong sense of justice and fair play. From sports fields to courtrooms, she believed everyone should play by the rules. Demanding such a hefty sum after saying the repair was adequate was simply not fair. And it was an outlandish demand as well, she thought.

  “Does Hooper understand that the animals don’t even belong to McGuire?” Not that she wanted to see the country club turn on her aunt and Grateful Paw.

  “Yes, he understands that. But, as you pointed out, the animals were in his care, and the fence and the hole belonged to him. He’s responsible for the damage the animals did.”

  Lauren felt stung, hearing her own argument tossed back at her—a fairly solid one, too. “Listen, we both know that at this time of year, and later, in the spring, golf courses need a ton of maintenance. Slabs of sod are replaced routinely from the wear and tear of players and golf carts, not just damage from animals. I bet the club would have needed to work on those greens anyway, whether or not the animals had visited.”

  Joe gazed at her and sat back. He seemed curious and just on the very edge of losing his patience. “So you’re saying the course needs the work anyway, and the board is trying to get McGuire to pay for it?”

  Lauren shrugged. “Not exactly . . . but I do think they’re pressing him for an unfair share of the costs. I bet they have a mammoth amount in their budget for maintaining the grounds. They don’t need his money,” she said bluntly. “I think this request is just . . . mean-spirited.”

  Joe took a breath. Then he shook his head as he pulled the email back to his side of the desk. “Fine. If that’s the way you feel, I’ll handle it. No problem.”

  Lauren sat up sharply. She didn’t like that idea, for a few reasons. She wasn’t some shrinking violet who needed a man to sweep in and do the heavy lifting. She was a smart attorney and a tough one and was determined to maintain that reputation. Even way out here in the middle of nowhere.

  And if anyone was going back to Cole McGuire with an additional and outlandish demand, it was her. Not Joe. McGuire would think she was too chicken to face him, or embarrassed. She didn’t know why his opinion should matter, but it did. She was embarrassed, but she would figure out some way to smooth it over.

  Maybe it was becaus
e of Phoebe. The man couldn’t be so awful if he had a little girl as sweet as that. Could he?

  She wasn’t sure why; she just didn’t like the idea of jerking McGuire around—which is what this demand from the club was when you boiled it down.

  “I started it. I’ll finish it,” she told Joe. “I’ll write McGuire a letter asking for the damages. A strong letter. I’ll run it by you.”

  “Good plan.” Joe looked satisfied by her answer. Had he purposely goaded her into sticking with this issue? Lauren had never thought of him as a manipulative person, but she supposed every attorney had a few tricks up their sleeve. Even one as nice as Joe. “We’ll send it overnight, signature required,” he said.

  “Of course,” she answered.

  She rose from her seat and grabbed her briefcase, then plucked the sheet of paper with the email from Joe’s desk.

  Writing this letter was the last thing she felt like doing right now, but Lauren had always found it was best to start with the most distasteful task on a to-do list and get it over with.

  * * *

  * * *

  “For pity’s sake, Jessica. What took you so long?” Lillian squinted down at the slim gold watch on her wrist. “I’ve been waiting hours. Days, actually. I shudder to imagine what would happen if we had a real emergency. Do you realize that I’ve been calling you since Friday morning?”

  “I do, Mother. You used up the entire message space on my phone. Twice.”

  “Don’t be so glib. It’s totally unnecessary, and unbecoming as well. Do you want some lunch? We’ve put it off.”

  Jessica was used to her mother’s tirades and her many strategies to induce guilt. She greeted the onslaught with a smile and walked into the foyer. “No, thank you. I have more stops to make. How are you today? I’m a bit tired from relocating an entire farm full of animals. Sorry I didn’t have time to deal with your little dog.”

  “It’s hardly ‘my’ dog. It’s a stray mongrel—though Ezra fawns over the beast as if it had just won best in show at Westminster.”

  Jessica had already gathered from the many messages that her mother wanted the dog out and Ezra wanted to keep him. She really had been busy relocating the farm animals but had hoped that over the weekend, her mother would ease up and Ezra might win this argument. No such luck, it seemed.

  “Did you even try to find the dog’s owner?”

  “I did try,” Jessica replied. “I searched all the notices about lost dogs online, left posts at different sites, called shelters and even the police station to see if anyone has been looking for him. So far, there are no reports of a dog like this. I’ll take him to a vet today and have him scanned for a chip.”

  “A chip? What’s that? Is it contagious?”

  Jessica laughed. “It’s a tiny device slipped under the dog’s skin that identifies the owner and gives contact information. Most owners these days chip their pets just in case they run away.”

  Lillian looked happy to hear the explanation. “Tell that to Ezra. He’s gotten too attached. I’ve warned him the dog must be returned to his real home.”

  “If we can find his home,” Jessica said. “Where is this mangy little beast?” She imitated her mother’s disparaging tone and was rewarded with a sharp look.

  “Confined to the mudroom. Where else? If Ezra had his way, that thing would sit between us on the silk brocade couch every night, watching TV and eating bonbons. As it is, Ezra coops himself up out there most of the day and the evening, ever since his little friend arrived.”

  Jessica nearly laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous, Mother.”

  Her mother bristled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She stabbed her cane into the thick Oriental rug and turned, then headed for the back of the house. Jessica followed, feeling twinges of sympathy for Ezra. He would be the most perfect dog owner in the world. He had so much love to give.

  She decided not to tease her mother anymore if she could help it. Perhaps she could plead Ezra’s case and her mother would reconsider keeping the dog.

  When they reached the mudroom, they found the passage to the kitchen blocked by a piece of cardboard. Jessica moved it aside, but they didn’t enter right away. She saw the dog sitting at Ezra’s feet as the old man carefully brushed out his coat in gentle, smooth strokes. “My, my . . . you’re looking very smart today, Teddy. But what’s this? A bit of mud on your tail? How did that happen? Before we know it, you’ll need another bath.”

  “Jessica is here,” her mother announced. “She says the dog might have a little microscopic tag in its fur with the owner’s phone number on it. That would solve everything, wouldn’t it?”

  That wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but Jessica didn’t bother to sort out her mother’s mangled explanation. Lillian had caught the gist, and Ezra’s expression fell at the news.

  “I don’t doubt someone out there misses him. How could they not?” Ezra put the brush aside. He stood up to face them. “What sort of dog do you think he is, Jess? I see a lot of terrier, but likely something else. Australian cattle dog, maybe?”

  Jessica looked the dog over and agreed. “Terrier definitely. The rest is hard to say. He does seem to have a bit of hound in him.”

  “He’s a mutt. Plain and simple. Do we need to go into the fine points?” her mother cut in impatiently.

  “Whatever the lineage, he comes from good-natured stock, and smart. He’s been no trouble at all. And wonderful company. Pets are good for your health, they say. Especially at our age,” Ezra said to his wife. “They help in all sorts of ways. Even lower your blood pressure.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “That depends on the patient. This one has been raising mine. Given the choice, I’d rather take pills.”

  The dog sensed he was being discussed, as most dogs will, Jessica knew. He walked over to Lillian and sat down at her feet, then gazed up at her with pure adoration. Jessica almost laughed out loud. “It looks to me like Ezra has been caring for him, but he has as real thing for you, Mother.”

  Lillian jumped back and made a huffy sound. “You’re all imagining that. He knows I don’t like him. He just wants to annoy me.”

  “Nonsense. He’s smitten. He wants to win you over, Lily. Reminds me of myself, during our courtship.” Ezra glanced at Jessica and winked. Then he sighed and leaned down to clip a leash to the dog’s collar. He petted the dog’s head with a slow, affectionate hand. Despite his jovial tone, it was no secret that Ezra was very sad to see the dog go.

  “Goodbye, Teddy. I hope you’ve been happy here. You’re a very good dog. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It has been a pleasure to get to know you.”

  Jessica felt a catch in her throat. She looked over at her mother, wondering if there might be some eleventh-hour reprieve. But her mother’s expression was blank, her chin high, her gray-blue eyes steely with resolve.

  Ezra saw it, too. Jessica realized that they’d been having this discussion about keeping the dog for several days now, and her mother had won.

  “What will happen now? Where will you take him?” Ezra asked. “If the owner isn’t found, I mean.”

  “I’ve identified a very good home, an older couple, here in town. They have several pets. They’ll treat him like a king.”

  “That’s some consolation.” Ezra’s eyes were clouding with tears. Jessica could barely look at him. “Sounds like they will both give him all the love and care he deserves.” He cast a meaningful look in her mother’s direction, but her mother ignored him.

  “Good luck, my friend,” he said, patting the dog’s head one last time.

  The dog leaned back and licked Ezra’s hand. Ezra nodded but didn’t say more. He took out a hanky and dabbed his eyes, then handed the leash to Jessica.

  “You take him now. I need to go upstairs.” She saw a tear slide down his cheek, but she didn’t kno
w what to say.

  She listened for the sound of Ezra’s steps on the staircase, then turned to her mother. “Mother, really . . . why can’t you just keep this little dog? Ezra is heartbroken,” she said quietly.

  “For pity’s sake.” Lillian waved her hand. “He’ll get over it soon enough. I don’t want a pet of any kind, and if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be this one. Besides, you said it yourself, you can find the owner with that chippy thing. Once Ezra hears the dog has been returned to his real home, how he can complain about not keeping it?”

  Her mother had a point. Ezra would still be sad, but that outcome would be easier to accept. “All right. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “I really don’t care,” Lillian replied quickly. “Just don’t bring the dog back here. If you can’t find the owner, bring him to those new people. Directly,” she emphasized. “I don’t want to see that animal again. That’s final.”

  Jessica couldn’t argue with those instructions. Her mother was many things, but being wishy-washy about her needs or directives was never one of them.

  The shaggy terrier mix stared up at her curiously. “That’s the plan,” Jessica told him. “Say goodbye, Teddy.”

  She knew it would annoy her mother, but she couldn’t help using the name Ezra had come up with. It did suit the dog well.

  Teddy smiled and wagged his tail, happily answering to his new name.

  * * *

  * * *

  Lauren knew that she shouldn’t have been helping Cole McGuire. It was highly unethical to act against her client’s interests. But wouldn’t it be better to get something for the golf club by letting him know there was room to negotiate than to get nothing by simply dumping this outrageous demand in his lap? The guy was wound tight enough already. She had no doubt the country club’s latest demand would set him off like a box of Fourth of July fireworks.

  She was actually doing the club a favor by hand-delivering the letter and taking the time to talk to him about it, she decided as the tree farm came into view. Though she wouldn’t bill the firm for the extra visit. For some reason, she didn’t want Joe to know she hadn’t followed his instructions exactly and mailed the letter special delivery.