Together for Christmas

by Debbie Macomber

  “Why don’t you go hang out with the girls?” asked Pat.

  “No, thanks.” Clara shot a dagger glare over to where the other girls were gathered in a giggling clump. All except for one, who was sneaking anxious looks in Clara’s direction.

  Pat and Muriel exchanged glances.

  “She and Aurora are having issues,” Isabel, her mother, explained.

  Muriel’s daughters Cecily and Bailey had joined them now, leaving Samantha in charge of the punch bowl. Cecily helped Muriel’s oldest daughter, Samantha, run Sweet Dreams Chocolates, the family’s chocolate company, and Bailey owned a successful tea shop in town. All three of them were happily settled with the right man now and busy with work, and Cecily was expecting a baby in February. But they always gave the cookie exchange top priority.

  “I need this recipe,” Bailey announced, holding up a chocolate cookie filled with candied cherries. She smiled at the scowling Clara and said, “You look like you need chocolate.”

  Clara shrugged.

  “What’s wrong?” Bailey asked.

  “Nothing,” Clara muttered.

  Now one of the other girls had drifted over, a pretty girl with strawberry-blond hair and freckles, Clara’s best friend, Aurora.

  Make that former best friend, judging by the way Clara turned her back. “Go away. I’m not talking to you.”

  Tears sprang to Aurora’s eyes. “Please don’t be mad, Clara. It’s not my fault Garth likes me now.”

  “Yes, it is. You stole him. He liked me first.”

  “And so now you’re not speaking to her,” Bailey deduced.

  “She stole him,” Clara hissed, in case they’d missed that piece of vital information the first time.

  “We’ve been down that road,” Cecily said, and put an arm around her sister. “It was a dumb road. Especially considering how well things worked out.”

  “What do you mean?” Aurora asked, settling onto the couch next to Muriel.

  “I mean Bailey and I both wanted the same man. But in the end, we each got the person we were meant to be with.”

  “Well, I was meant to be with Garth,” Clara said, her scowl deepening.”

  Pat smiled. “Yes, I understand those feelings. You know, I thought I was meant to be with someone once and my best friend got him.”

  “Who was that?” asked Clara, forgetting that she was supposed to be sulking.

  Bailey and Cecily exchanged smiles. They’d heard the story back when they were fighting over a man. It looked as though it was time for a new generation to learn the importance of love and loyalty.

  Muriel had both of the younger girls’ attention now. “What happened?” Aurora asked.

  Dot and Olivia had drifted into the living room area now along with two other young girls. “Tell ’em,” Dot said. “I always like a good story at Christmas, especially when it has a happy ending.”

  “All right,” Muriel said. “It happened a long time ago, but sometimes it seems like only yesterday.”

  One

  Summer, 1969

  “WE NEED MORE cute boys in this town,” Olivia Green complained as she and Muriel and Pat Pearson walked home from Icicle Falls High.

  “We have more than we used to,” Muriel said.

  By the late fifties, most of the cute boys and their families were all moving away. So were a lot of the girls, including her best friend, Doreen Smith. Muriel and Doreen wrote regularly for years, determined to stay best friends via the post office. But it wasn’t the same as having her in town.

  The town hadn’t been much then. Icicle Falls had been dying for years, thanks to the railroad leaving and drying up the lumber business. After that there wasn’t much left—a ramshackle downtown with derelict buildings housing a general store, a bank and a post office. There was a run-down motel and a diner to cater to people going over the pass. Add to that a few houses, a church, a grade school and tiny high school, and that was about all there was.

  When Muriel was eight, she’d eavesdropped on the conversation of various grown-ups gathered in her parents’ living room.

  “We’ve got a mountain setting as nice as anything you’d find in the Alps,” her daddy had said. “We could turn this place into a Bavarian village, make it a real destination town. We’ve already got the mountains and the rivers to lure skiers and fishermen. Let’s give ’em a reason to stay and spend their money.”

  “I don’t know, Joe. It’s a big gamble,” Mr. Johnson had said.

  “If we don’t take this gamble it’s a sure thing Icicle Falls will be nothing but a ghost town in another ten years. We’ve got more people moving away all the time,” her daddy had pointed out.

  Ghosts? Were there ghosts haunting the place?

  She’d asked her mother about that later. Mother had kissed her and assured her there was no such thing as ghosts.

  “What did Daddy mean, then?” she’d demanded.

  “He meant that we need to find a way to make our town a place where people want to be.”

  “I want to be here,” she’d said. She’d wanted her best friend there, too.

  “So do I, darling,” her mother had said. “Don’t you worry. Your daddy’s going to fix everything.”

  Daddy made chocolate. She had no doubt he’d be able to fix this problem, too. The one all the grown-ups were so concerned about.

  And he had. In the summer of 1962, while her friend Doreen was enjoying the Seattle World’s Fair, Muriel was helping with town cleanup, collecting old cans in a field with Pat Pearson and Olivia Green. That had been a bonding experience.

  And while they bonded over bits of garbage, other townspeople bonded hauling away old tires and abandoned cars from empty lots. Architects and builders were put to work, and the ramshackle buildings began to get a face-lift, changing Center Street from a Wild West ghost town to a quaint Bavarian village.

  Muriel’s correspondence with Doreen finally dried up, but life in Icicle Falls moved on. The following year new faces began to show up in town. They came in a slow trickle at first, like the drip from icicles on their roof when the snow began to melt. These visitors sometimes brought along cute boys. Some of them even returned to stay, opening up shops. Like Dale Holdsworth, who opened Kringle Mart and imported snow globes and handblown ornaments from Germany to sell to people who came to check out the newly minted tourist village. And Andy Marks, who started a small wood-carving shop, and Gerhardt Geissel, who built Gerhardt’s Gasthaus. The Mountain Inn got a face-lift and a new name—the Bavarian Inn.

  By the time Muriel was in high school, the student body had nearly doubled in size. Now it was up to a whopping hundred and forty-eight students. Thirty-two of them, including Muriel and her friends, were seniors that year.

  “We may have more boys than we used to,” Olivia said, “but most of them are underclassmen. Who’s there in our class to choose from?”

  For Muriel? No one matched the man of her dreams, the man she hoped would someday come into her life. Waiting for a perfect man seemed silly to her friends, but she was a big believer in true love. And in dreams. Her grandmother had dreamed an entire company into being, so Muriel had no doubt she could find the man she’d envisioned—someone dashing and romantic, who would make her heart skip a beat.

  “There’s Arnie Amundsen,” Muriel suggested. For Olivia, not her. Arnie was skinny and wore glasses but he was sweet. Olivia could do a lot worse.

  “He’s got a crush on you,” Olivia said.

  “Everybody’s got a crush on Muriel,” Pat added in mock disgust.

  “That is a gross overstatement,” Muriel said.

  Pat complained about being tall. She hated her auburn hair and lamented on a regular basis that she wasn’t blonde like Olivia or a brunette like Muriel. Still, she’d had her share of invitations to the senior prom, which had taken place the week before. Muriel
had gone with Arnie. Just as friends, she’d reminded him.

  She wished he’d asked Olivia. Olivia had ended up with Gerald Parker, who’d wanted her to go all the way. They’d come close but she’d chickened out at the last minute. Now she was regretting her decision because Gerald was ignoring her, making her last week of school miserable. He’d enlisted in the marines, though, and would soon be gone. Muriel was secretly relieved. Of course, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to Gerald, but it was best to remove temptation from Olivia.

  “There’s Hank Carp,” said Pat.

  Muriel frowned. “He’s a hood.”

  “But he’s a cute hood,” Olivia said.

  That was all Olivia needed, to get tangled up with Hank.

  “I’d take him,” Olivia continued, “except he likes Stephie.”

  “She’s fast,” Muriel said.

  “That’s probably why he likes her,” Olivia muttered.

  “Anyway,” Pat went on, “that man is going nowhere. You can do better.”

  “I don’t think so,” Olivia said. “Nobody wants a fat girl.”

  “You’re not fat,” Muriel insisted. “You’re—”

  “Curvy,” Pat supplied. “And boys like curves.”

  “No,” Olivia corrected her. “Boys like Muriel. I bet you’ll be married by the time you’re twenty.”

  Muriel shook her head. “Not if my father has anything to say about it.” She sighed. “He’s got my whole life planned.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s tough having a family chocolate factory,” Pat said. “Poor girl. You’ll have to work there, get rich and eat all the chocolate you want.” She and Olivia giggled.

  “I don’t mind working there, doing fun things like helping with recipes or answering phones. I just don’t want to run the place. I want to get married and have a family.”

  “And be a famous writer,” Olivia reminded her. “Did you hear back from Seventeen yet?”

  The rejection letter for her article, “How to Have Fun in a Small Town,” had arrived the day before. Muriel hadn’t even wanted to tell her best friends. It was so humiliating to be a failure. She bit her lip.

  “Oh, no,” said Pat. “They didn’t like your article?”

  Muriel shook her head again.

  “Well, they’re stupid,” Olivia said.

  “Don’t worry,” Pat told her. “You’ll sell something. Maybe you’ll even write a bestseller like Jacqueline Susann.”

  Muriel wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t want to write that kind of thing.”

  “I would,” Pat said. “If I wanted to write, that is. I’d rather read.”

  “I’d rather make out,” Olivia said with a grin. “You know, it’s going to be really hard to find men to marry once we all graduate. It seems like half the boys are leaving for college.” Her expression grew sad. “I sure hope God brings some new ones to town.”

  Two weeks after graduation, God did. And Olivia and Pat dropped into the gift shop of Sweet Dreams Chocolate Company, where Muriel was on duty, to tell her about it.

  “We were walking down the highway, and he stopped and asked us where there was a good place to eat,” Pat said.

  “He’s gorgeous,” breathed Olivia. “He’s tall and he’s got muscles, and he looks like Mick Jagger. Even his hair. Well, except his hair is blond.”

  Long hair. Muriel’s father wouldn’t approve. “He’s a hippie, then?”

  “No,” Pat said. “He rides a motorcycle.”

  “And he wears a leather jacket,” Olivia added. “We’re going to meet him at Herman’s Hamburgers.”

  And with that they were off, leaving Muriel to run the candy shop. This was unfair. And wrong. Summer vacation had barely started and Daddy had her in here working! Pat and Olivia didn’t have to work.

  “Pat and Olivia don’t have a family business,” her father pointed out when she complained to him a few minutes later.

  “Well, I wish I didn’t.”

  “Muriel, don’t ever let me hear you say that again,” he said sternly. “This is a wonderful business, and it all started from your grandmother’s vision. That’s something you, as a young woman, should be proud of.”

  “I am,” she protested before he could, yet again, tell her the story of how Grandma Rose had literally dreamed up those first chocolate recipes that had become the foundation of Sweet Dreams. “But that doesn’t mean I want to work here.”

  “This is your inheritance, and you have a responsibility to yourself and future generations to respect that.”

  Muriel showed her respect by rolling her eyes.

  “You may not like this now...”

  She didn’t, especially making change. She hated making change. She couldn’t count backward no matter how hard she tried. Heck, she could barely count forward. Anyway, she didn’t want to be a career girl. She loved the idea of owning the company and enjoying an endless supply of chocolate, but she didn’t want to run it. Unlike her mother, who was always at the office helping Daddy, she wanted to stay home and concentrate on raising a family. Oh, and get articles published in prestigious magazines like Seventeen and Mademoiselle, or maybe even Woman’s Day.

  “But,” her father continued, “down the road you’ll be glad I insisted you get involved. Women don’t stay home anymore, you know. I want you to be able to do something with your life.”

  Yes, she wanted to do something with her life, and right now the something she wanted to do was have fun.

  Her father chucked her under the chin. “Come on now. No pouting. Do you know how many of your friends would kill to work in a chocolate shop?”

  At the moment? None of them. They were all at Herman’s Hamburgers, the new hamburger joint, downing cheeseburgers, shakes and fries. With a handsome motorcycle-riding stranger....

  Her father hurried out the door, off to have lunch with the mayor, and she leaned her elbows on the counter and moped. And then decided to comfort herself with a chocolate-covered caramel. And another. And another. And just one more. And...pretty soon she wasn’t feeling so good. Hmm. Could a girl really get too much of a good thing?

  She was still pondering that question when Mrs. Lind came in for a box of truffles.

  “These are for my sister’s birthday,” Mrs. Lind said. “I hope I can stay out of them.”

  The way Muriel was feeling after her chocolate caramel binge she was sure she’d have no trouble staying out of the chocolate for, oh, say, the next twenty years. “This might help you....” She put a mint truffle in a small gift bag and slipped it across the counter.

  Janice Lind’s face lit up as though she’d just won the Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes. “Oh, you’re such a dear. Thank you, Muriel.”

  “My pleasure,” Muriel said. All right, this was the part of the business she loved, the people part. She had to admit, as she sampled a truffle herself, that it was great to have access to such wonderful chocolate treats.

  Still, she spent the rest of her shift watching the clock, willing the time to pass quickly so she could go find everyone and maybe get a glimpse of the new arrival in town. He was probably swarmed with girls right now.

  Olivia was right. There weren’t enough cute boys in Icicle Falls. How was she going to fulfill her dream of living happily ever after with someone special when there was no one here she wanted to live happily ever after with?

  The bell over the shop door jingled. Oh, my. What was this?

  Two

  IN WALKED PAT walked Pat and Olivia. Olivia was giggling; Pat was sulking. Behind them came the newcomer.

  He did, indeed, look like a blond Mick Jagger. Muriel’s heart rate kicked up several beats. She wished she’d put on more lipstick.

  “This is Stephen Sterling,” Olivia said. “He wanted to meet you.”

  That would explain Pat’s sulk. Obviously she hadn’t b
een thrilled with the idea of introducing Stephen to Muriel. She’d probably had plans for this man that didn’t include anyone else.

  And Muriel couldn’t blame her. Man, he was. Stephen Sterling wore an air of maturity the local boys had yet to acquire, and he looked both dangerous and intriguing in his leather jacket and jeans. His hair was long and shaggy, falling around his chin. Did he play in a rock band?

  Muriel smiled and said hello.

  “When I told him about you and your family’s chocolate company he wanted to come see it,” Olivia explained.

  “Do you like chocolate?” Muriel asked.

  “I like sweet things,” he said, and the way he smiled at her sent a flush racing to her cheeks.

  “What kind of chocolate do you prefer, dark or light?”

  He shrugged. “Chocolate is chocolate.”

  That made Olivia giggle. “Boy, have you got a lot to learn.”

  Muriel would be happy to educate him.

  She was just getting ready to sneak them some free chocolate—none for her, thank you—when her father came back in. “Hi, kids.”

  His greeting was amiable enough, but Muriel could see the disapproval in his eyes when he glanced at Stephen. Of course, the long hair. Her father believed that men should look like men. Well, this one looked manly enough to her.

  “Muriel, give your friends each a chocolate,” Daddy said.

  “Wow, thanks, Mr. Patrick,” Olivia said, and Pat, too, murmured her thanks.

  “Thank you, sir,” said Stephen, proving he had manners. Muriel hoped that would score him some daddy points.

  Daddy nodded. “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to go. Muriel has to get back to work.”

  Doing what? Serving imaginary customers?

  With that parting shot, he went upstairs to the office, leaving his daughter fuming over his rudeness and the fact that her friends were going to skip off and take the good-looking newcomer with them.