Call Me Mrs. Miracle

by Debbie Macomber

  “Holly?”

  “I…I think he must be.” She’d been so caught up in her juvenile fantasies, based on the coincidence of their meetings, that she hadn’t paid attention to anything else.

  “You sound like this is shocking news.”

  “I hadn’t put two and two together,” she confessed.

  “And now you’re scared.”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Don’t be. He puts his pants on one leg at a time like everyone else, if you’ll pardon the cliché. He’s just a guy.”

  “Right.”

  “You don’t seem too sure of that.”

  Holly wasn’t. A chill had overtaken her and she hugged herself with one arm. “I need to think about this.”

  “While you’re thinking, tell me more about this robot that’s got my son so excited.”

  “It’s expensive.”

  “How…expensive?”

  Holly heard the hesitation in her brother’s voice. He had his own financial problems. “Don’t worry—I’ve got it. This is on me.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Positive.” The Christmas bonus checks were due the following Friday. If all went well, hers should cover the price of the toy with enough left over for a really special Christmas dinner.

  Christmas.

  When she woke that morning, still warm under the covers, Holly’s first thought had been of Jake. She’d had the craziest idea that…well, it was out of the question now.

  What Jake had confided about his mother and sister had nearly broken her heart. The tragedy had not only robbed him of his mother and sibling, it had destroyed his pleasure in Christmas. Holly had hoped to change that, but the mere notion seemed ridiculous now. She’d actually planned to invite Jake to spend Christmas Day with her and Gabe. She knew now that he’d never accept. He was a Finley, after all, a man whose background was vastly different from her own.

  Half-asleep, she’d pictured the three of them sitting around her table, a lovely golden-brown turkey with sage stuffing resting in the center. She’d imagined Christmas music playing and the tree lights blinking merrily, enhancing the celebratory mood. She couldn’t believe she’d even considered such a thing, knowing what she did now.

  “I have a Christmas surprise coming your way,” Mickey said. “I’m just hoping it arrives in time for the holidays.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she assured her brother, dragging her thoughts away from Jake. She focused on her brother and nephew—which was exactly what she intended to do from this point forward. She needed to forget this romantic fantasy she’d invented within a day of meeting Jake Finley.

  “I can guarantee Gabe will like it and so will you,” Mickey was saying.

  Holly couldn’t begin to guess what Mickey might have purchased in Afghanistan for Christmas, but then her brother had always been full of surprises. He’d probably ordered something over the internet, she decided.

  “Mom and Dad mailed us a package, as well,” she told him. “The box got here this week.”

  “From Haiti? What would they be sending?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” she said. Once the tree was up she’d arrange the gifts underneath it.

  “You’re going to wait until Christmas morning, aren’t you?” he asked. “Don’t open anything before that.”

  “Of course we’ll wait.” Even as kids, they’d managed not to peek at their gifts.

  Mickey laughed, then grew serious. “This won’t be an ordinary Christmas, will it?”

  Holly hadn’t dwelled on not being with her parents. Her father, a retired dentist, and her mother, a retired nurse, had offered their services in a health clinic for twelve months after the devastating earthquake. They’d been happy about the idea of giving back, and Holly had been happy for them. This Christmas was supposed to be Mickey, Gabe and her for the holidays—and then Mickey’s National Guard unit had been called up and he’d left to serve his country.

  “It could be worse,” she said, and her thoughts involuntarily went to Jake and his father, who refused to celebrate Christmas at all.

  “Next year everything will be different,” Mickey told her.

  “Yes, it will,” she agreed.

  Her brother spoke to Gabe for a few more minutes and then said goodbye. Gabe was pensive after the conversation with his father and so was Holly, but for different reasons.

  “How about toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch?” she suggested, hoping to lighten the mood. “That was your dad’s and my favorite Sunday lunch when we were growing up.”

  Gabe looked at her suspiciously. “What kind of cheese?”

  Holly shrugged. “Regular cheese?” By that she meant the plastic-wrapped slices, Gabe’s idea of cheese.

  “You won’t use any of that buffalo stuff, will you?”

  She grinned. “Buffalo mozzarella. Nope, this is plain old sliced regular cheese in a package.”

  “Okay, as long as the soup comes from a can. That’s the way Dad made it and that’s how I like it.”

  “You got it,” she said, and moved into the kitchen.

  Gabe sat on a stool and watched her work, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter. Holly wasn’t fooled by his intent expression. He wasn’t interested in spending time with her; he was keeping a close eye on their lunch in case she tried to slip in a foreign ingredient. After a moment he released a deep sigh.

  “What’s that about?” she asked.

  “I miss my dad.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart. I miss him, too.”

  “And Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “And they miss us.”

  Gabe nodded. “It’s not so bad living with you. I thought it was at first, but you’re okay.”

  “Thanks.” She hid a smile and set a piece of buttered bread on the heated griddle, then carefully placed a slice of processed cheese on top before adding the second piece of bread. She planned to have a plain cheese sandwich herself—one with real cheese.

  Obviously satisfied that she was preparing his lunch according to his specifications, Gabe clambered off the stool. “Can we go to the movies this afternoon?”

  “Maybe.” She had to be careful with her entertainment budget, especially since there were additional expenses coming up this month. “It might be better if we got a video.”

  “Can I invite a friend over?”

  She hesitated a moment, afraid he might want to ask his new friend, Billy.

  “Sure,” she said. “How about Jonathan Krantz?” Jonathan was another eight-year-old who lived in the building, and Caroline, his mother, sometimes babysat for her.

  That was acceptable to Gabe.

  After lunch they walked down to the neighborhood video store, found a movie they could both agree on and then asked Jonathan to join them.

  Holly did her best to pay attention to the movie; however, her mind had a will of its own. No matter how hard she tried, all she could think about was Jake. He didn’t phone and that was just as well. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve said if he had.

  Then again, he hadn’t asked for her phone number. Still, he could get it easily enough if he wanted….

  Late Sunday night, after Gabe was asleep, Holly went on the computer and did a bit of research. Sure enough, Jake was related to the owner. Not only that, he was the son and heir.

  Monday morning, Holly dropped Gabe off at school and took the subway into Manhattan. As she walked past Starbucks, she felt a twinge of longing—for more than just the coffee they served. This was where she’d met Jake. Jake Finley.

  As she walked briskly past Starbucks, the door flew open and Jake Finley dashed out, calling her name.

  Holly pretended not to hear.

  “Holly!” he shouted, running after her. “Wait up!”

  Seven

  Coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous.

  —Mrs. Miracle

  “Wait up!” Jake called. Holly acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Jake kne
w better. She was clearly upset about something, although he couldn’t figure out what. His mind raced with possibilities, but he couldn’t come up with a single one that made sense.

  Finally she turned around.

  Jake relaxed. Just seeing her again brought him a feeling of happiness he couldn’t define. He barely knew Holly Larson, yet he hadn’t been able to forget her. She was constantly in his thoughts, constantly with him, and perhaps the most puzzling of all was the rightness he felt in her presence. He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it.

  Jake had resisted the urge to contact her on Sunday, afraid of coming on too strong. They’d seen quite a bit of each other in the past few days, seemingly thrown together by fate. Coincidence? He supposed so, and yet… It was as though a providential hand was behind all this. Admittedly that sounded fanciful, even melodramatic. Nevertheless, four chance meetings in quick succession was hard to explain.

  With someone else, a different kind of woman, Jake might have suspected these meetings had been contrived, and certainly this morning’s was pure manipulation on his part. He’d hoped to run into her casually. But he hadn’t expected to see Holly walk directly past the coffee shop. He couldn’t allow this opportunity to pass.

  She looked up at him expectantly; she didn’t say anything.

  “Good morning,” he said, unsure of her mood.

  “Hi.” She just missed making eye contact.

  He felt her reluctance and frowned, unable to fathom what he might have done to upset her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why won’t you look at me?”

  The question forced her to raise her eyes and meet his. She held his gaze for only a fraction of a second before glancing away.

  The traffic light changed and, side by side, they crossed the street.

  “I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said. He’d decided that if he invited her out on a real date they could straighten out the problem, whatever it was.

  “When?”

  At least she hadn’t turned him down flat. That was encouraging. “Whenever you say.” He’d rearrange his schedule if necessary. “Tonight? Tomorrow? I’m free every evening. Or I can be.” He wanted it understood that he wasn’t involved with anyone else. In fact, he hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years.

  His primary goal for the past decade had been to learn the retail business from the ground up, and as a result his social life had suffered. He worked long hours and that had taken a toll on his relationships. After his last breakup, which was in… Jake had to stop and think. June, he remembered. Had it really been that long? At any rate, Judith had told him it was over before they’d really begun.

  At the time he’d felt bad, but agreed it was probably for the best. Funny how easily he could let go of a woman with hardly a pause after just four weeks. Judith had been attractive, successful, intelligent, but there’d been no real connection between them. The thought of letting Holly walk out of his life was a completely different scenario, one that filled him with dread.

  All he could think about on Sunday was when he’d see her again. His pride had influenced his decision not to call her; he didn’t want her to know how important she’d become to him in such a short time. Despite that, he’d gone to Starbucks first thing this morning.

  “Tonight?” she repeated, referring to his dinner invitation. “You mean this evening?”

  “Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I’m available Tuesday night if that’s better for you.”

  She hesitated, as if considering his offer. “Thanks, but I don’t have anyone to look after Gabe.”

  “I could bring us dinner.” He wasn’t willing to give up that quickly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you trying so hard?”

  “Why are you inventing excuses not to see me?”

  He didn’t understand her reluctance. Saturday, when he’d dropped her off at her Brooklyn apartment and kissed her good-night, she’d practically melted in his arms. Now she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  Holly stared down at the sidewalk. People hurried past them and around them. They stood like boulders in the middle of a fast-moving stream, neither of them moving, neither talking.

  “I…I didn’t know who you were,” she eventually admitted. “Not until later.”

  “I told you my name’s Jake Finley.” He didn’t pretend not to understand what she meant. This wasn’t the first time his family name had intimidated someone. He just hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Holly. He’d assumed she knew, and that was part of her charm because it hadn’t mattered to her.

  “I know you did,” she countered swiftly. “And I feel stupid for not connecting the dots.”

  He stiffened. “And my name bothers you?”

  “Not really,” she said, and her gaze locked with his before she slowly lowered her lashes. “I guess it does, but not for the reasons you’re assuming.”

  “What exactly am I assuming?” he asked.

  “That I’d use you.”

  “For what?” he demanded.

  “Well, for one thing, that robot toy. We both know how badly Gabe wants it for Christmas and it’s expensive and you might think I…”

  “What would I think?” he asked forcefully when she didn’t complete her sentence.

  “That I’d want you to get me the toy.”

  “Would you ask me to do that?” If she did, he’d gladly purchase it—retail price—on her behalf.

  “No. Never.” Her eyes flared with the intensity of her response. She started to leave and Jake followed.

  “Then it’s a moot point.” He began to walk, carefully matching his longer stride to her shorter one. “Under no circumstances will I purchase that toy for you. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” she said.

  “Anything else?”

  Holly looked at him and then away. “I don’t come from a powerful family or know famous people or—”

  “Do you think I care?”

  “No, but if you did, you’d be plain out of luck.”

  He smiled. “That’s fine with me.”

  “Okay,” she said, stopping abruptly. “Can you explain why you want to see me?”

  Jake wished he had a logical response. He felt drawn to her in ways he hadn’t with other women. “I can’t say for sure, but deep down I feel that if we were to walk away from each other right now, I’d regret it.”

  “You do?” she asked softly, and pressed her hand to her heart. “Jake, I feel the same way. What’s happening to us?”

  He didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know.” But he definitely felt it, and that feeling intensified with each meeting.

  They started walking again. “So, can I see you tonight?” he asked. That was important, necessary.

  Her face fell. “I wasn’t making it up, about not having anyone to take care of Gabe. If you were serious about bringing us dinner…”

  “I was.”

  Her face brightened. “Then that would work out perfectly.”

  “Do you like take-out Chinese?” he asked, thinking Gabe would enjoy it, as well.

  “Love it.”

  “Me, too, but you’ll have to use chopsticks.”

  “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

  “Great.” Jake breathed easier. Everything was falling into place, just the way he’d hoped it would. He glanced at his watch and grimaced. He was late for work. He hoped Karen or Mrs. Miracle had covered for him.

  Retreating now, taking two steps backward, he called out to Holly, “Six-thirty? At your place?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Yes. And thank you, Jake, thank you so much.”

  He raised his hand. “See you tonight.”

  “Tonight,” she echoed, and they both turned and hurried off to their respective jobs.

  Jake’s step was noticeably lighter as he rushed toward the department store. By the time he arrived, ten minutes later than usual, he was breathless. He’d just clocked in
and headed for the elevator when his father stopped him, wearing a frown that told him J.R. wasn’t happy.

  “Are you keeping bankers’ hours these days?”

  “No,” Jake told him. “I had an appointment.” A slight stretch of the truth.

  “I was looking for you.”

  “Any particular reason?” Jake asked. He’d bet his lunch break this sudden interest in the toy department had to do with those robots.

  His father surprised him, however, with a completely different question. “I heard from HR that you requested a transfer for one of the seasonal staff….”

  “Mrs. Miracle.”

  “Who? No, that wasn’t the name.”

  “No, it’s Merkle or Michaels or something like that. The name badge mistakenly says Miracle, and she insisted that’s what we call her.”

  His father seemed confused, which was fine with Jake. He felt he was being rather clever to keep J.R.’s attention away from the robots.

  J.R. ignored the comment. “You asked for this Mrs. Miracle or whoever she is to be transferred and then you changed your mind. Do I understand correctly?”

  “Yes. After I made the initial request, I realized she was a good fit for the department—a grandmotherly figure who relates well to kids and parents. She adds exactly the right touch.”

  “I see,” his father murmured. “Okay, whatever you decide is fine.”

  That was generous, seeing that he was the department head, Jake mused with more affection than sarcasm.

  “While I have you, tell me, how are sales of that expensive robot going?”

  Jake wasn’t fooled. His father already knew the answer to that. “Sales are picking up. We sold a total of twenty-five over the weekend.”

  “Twenty-five,” his father said slowly. “There’re still a lot of robots left in the storeroom, though, aren’t there?”

  “Yes,” Jake admitted.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He made some additional remark Jake couldn’t quite grasp, but it didn’t sound like something he wanted to hear, anyway, so he didn’t ask J.R. to repeat it.

  As he entered the toy department, clipping on his “Manager” badge, Jake was glad to see Mrs. Miracle on duty.