Call Me Mrs. Miracle

by Debbie Macomber

  “Go on,” Wendy urged without commenting on all the confusion about names.

  “Long story short, she suggested I call you about catering Lindy Lee’s Christmas party for her employees.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes… She highly recommended you and the restaurant.”

  “What restaurant?”

  “Heavenly Delights,” Holly said. Wendy must own more than one. “The location in the Village.”

  “Heavenly Delights,” Wendy gasped, then started to laugh. “Heavenly Delights?”

  “Yes.” Holly’s spirits took a sharp dive; nevertheless, she forged ahead. “I’m wondering if you could work us into your schedule.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Holly’s spirits sank even further. “You can’t do it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Her emotions went from hopeful to disheartened and back again. “Then you could?”

  “I…I don’t know what to say.” The woman seemed completely overwhelmed.

  Yes, I can do it would certainly make Holly’s day, but the words weren’t immediately forthcoming.

  “Unfortunately, the party’s scheduled for tomorrow afternoon—Christmas Eve.” Holly suspected that, by then, practically everyone in the restaurant business would be closing down and heading home to their families. As an incentive, she mentioned the amount she could offer. The catering would take up most of the budget, with a little left over for decorations.

  “That sounds fair,” Wendy said.

  “Would you be able to accommodate us?” she asked hopefully. “We’re talking about forty people, give or take.”

  “I…”

  Holly closed her eyes, fearing the worst.

  “I think I could. However, there’s something you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “First, I can’t imagine who this Mrs. Miracle is.”

  “As I said, that isn’t her real name. But I can find out for you, if you like.”

  “No, it doesn’t matter. What I wanted to tell you is that I don’t have a restaurant.”

  “No restaurant?” Holly’s mouth went dry.

  “The thing is, I’ve been talking with my daughter about opening one. She’s attending culinary school. I’ve been praying about it, too. However, a lot of problems stand in the way—one of which is money.”

  “Oh.”

  “When I applied for a loan, the bank officer asked me what we intended to call the restaurant. Lucie and I have gone over dozens of names and nothing felt right. Our specialty would be desserts…. I like the name Heavenly Delights. If you don’t mind, I’ll borrow it.”

  “I… That’s the name Mrs. Miracle gave me.”

  “Well, if she doesn’t mind, we’ll definitely use it.” She paused. “Maybe I know her, but right now I can’t figure out who she is.”

  “Um, so if you don’t have a restaurant yet, you can’t cater the event?”

  “I can’t,” Wendy agreed. “But perhaps Lucie and her friends from culinary school could.”

  “Really?” Holly asked excitedly.

  “Give me your number and I’ll call her to see if we can make this happen.”

  “Great!”

  Holly fidgeted until Wendy called back five minutes later. “We’ll do it,” Wendy told her. “Lucie talked to several of her colleagues and they’re all interested. I can promise you’ll love their menu. Lucie’s already working on it.”

  “Fabulous. Thank you! Oh, thank you so much.” Her relief was so great that she felt like weeping.

  She disconnected just as Lindy returned from lunch.

  “The party’s all set,” Holly said happily.

  “Really?” She’d impressed Lindy Lee, which was no small feat.

  “Christmas Eve from two to four.”

  Her employer nodded. “Good job, Holly.”

  Holly closed her eyes and basked in the glow of Lindy Lee’s approval.

  Seventeen

  We don’t change God’s message.

  His message changes us.

  —Mrs. Miracle

  Jake glanced at his watch and felt a surge of relief. Five-thirty on Christmas Eve; in half an hour, the store would close its doors for the season.

  Finley’s would open again on the twenty-sixth for the year-end frenzy. He felt good that toy sales for this quarter were twenty percent higher than the previous year. He attributed the boost in revenue to Intellytron the SuperRobot. Jake felt vindicated that his hunch had been proven right. He’d be proud to take these latest figures to his father. While the robot alone didn’t explain the increase, the fact that it was available at Finley’s had brought new customers into the store.

  Holly was occupied with her boss and the Christmas party, which she’d arranged for Lindy Lee at the last moment. The poor girl had worked herself into a nervous state to pull off the event, and Jake was confident that the afternoon had gone well. He knew Holly had obsessed over each and every detail.

  No doubt exhausted, she’d go home to her Brooklyn apartment as soon as she was finished with the cleanup. Jake would come by later that evening to spend time with her and Gabe. The three of them would enjoy a quiet dinner and then attend Christmas Eve services at her church.

  It felt strangely luxurious not to be rushing away from the city with his father, although Jake was saddened that he hadn’t been able to convince J.R. to join them on Christmas Day.

  His cell chirped, and even before he looked, Jake knew it was Holly.

  “Hi,” he said. “How’d the party go?”

  “Great! Wonderful. Even Lindy Lee was pleased. The caterers did a fabulous job, above and beyond my expectations. Wendy told me that Heavenly Delights plans to specialize in desserts and they should. Everything was spectacular.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Don’t forget to bring over Gabe’s gift tonight,” she said in a tired voice. As he’d expected, Holly was worn out.

  “Sure thing.”

  “We’ll hide it in my bedroom until he goes to sleep, and then we can put it under the tree. That way it’ll be the first thing he sees Christmas morning.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’ll distract him when you arrive so you can shove it in my closet.”

  “Okay.”

  She hesitated. “Are you sure you can’t talk your father into coming for Christmas dinner?”

  “I don’t think so, Holly. He isn’t ready to give up his…vacation.” He nearly choked on the word.

  “Ask him again, would you?” she said softly.

  “I will,” he agreed with some reluctance, knowing it wouldn’t have any effect.

  “And thank Mrs. Miracle for me. She saved the day with this recommendation.”

  “Of course. Although I believe she’s already left.”

  “She’ll be back, won’t she?”

  “As seasonal help, she’ll stay on until the end of January when we finish inventory.” The older woman had been a real success in the department. She’d reassured parents and entertained their kids. If she was interested, Jake would like to offer her full-time employment.

  He ended his conversation with Holly and went into the storeroom to pick up Gabe’s robot.

  He stopped short. The package that had lain on the counter, the package so beautifully wrapped by Mrs. Miracle, was missing.

  Gone.

  “Karen,” Jake said, walking directly past a customer to confront one of the other sales associates. If this was a practical joke, he was not amused. “Where’s the robot that was on the counter in the storeroom?” he demanded, ignoring the last-minute shopper she was assisting.

  Karen blinked as though he was speaking in a foreign language. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The wrapped gift in the storage room?” he repeated.

  “I…I don’t have a clue.”

  “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  Her face became flushed. “I’m not sure.”

&
nbsp; “It was wrapped and ready for delivery and now it’s missing.” Jake couldn’t believe anyone would steal the robot. He knew his employees, and there wasn’t a single one who was capable of such a deed. He’d stake his career on it.

  “Did you ask John?”

  “No.” Jake quickly sought out the youngest sales associate. John had just finished with a customer and looked expectantly at Jake.

  “The robot’s missing,” he said without preamble.

  John stared back at him. “The one in the storeroom?”

  “Are there any others in this department?” he snapped. If there were, he’d grab one and be done with it. However, no one knew better than Jake that there wasn’t an Intellytron to be had.

  “I saw it,” Gail said, joining them.

  Relief washed over Jake. Someone had moved it without telling him; that was obviously what had happened. The prospect of facing Holly and telling her he didn’t have the robot didn’t bear thinking about.

  That morning, the moment she’d received her Christmas bonus, Holly had rushed over to Finley’s to pay for the toy. Her face had been alight with happiness as she described how excited Gabe would be when he found his gift under the Christmas tree. That robot meant so much to the boy. If Jake didn’t bring it as promised, Holly might not forgive him. He hoped that wouldn’t happen, but the thought sent a chill through him nonetheless.

  Frances, another sales associate, came over, too. “Mrs. Miracle had it,” she said.

  “When?”

  “This morning,” Frances explained. “She didn’t mention it to you?”

  “No.” Jake shook his head. “What did she do with it?”

  Frances stared down at the floor. “She sold it.”

  “Sold it?” Jake exploded. This had to be some kind of joke—didn’t it? “How could she do that? It was already paid for by someone else.” That robot belonged to Gabe Larson. She knew that as well as anyone.

  “Why would she sell it?” he burst out again, completely bewildered.

  “I…I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her,” Frances said. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Finley. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

  There’d better be. Not that it would help now.

  Sick at heart, Jake left the department and went up to his father’s office. Dora had already gone home; the whole administrative floor was deserted. He didn’t know what he’d tell Holly. He should’ve taken the robot to his apartment and kept it there. Then he could’ve been guaranteed that nothing like this would happen. Still, berating himself now wouldn’t serve any useful purpose.

  Preparing for his flight, J. R. Finley was busy stuffing paperwork in his computer case when Jake entered the office. J.R. looked up at him. “What’s the matter with you? Did you decide to come with me, after all?”

  “No. Have you decided to stay in New York?” Jake countered.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Jake slumped into a chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “Gabe’s robot is missing,” he said quietly. “Emily Miracle, or whatever her name is, sold it.”

  “Mrs. Miracle?” J.R.’s face tightened and he waved his index finger at Jake. “I told you that woman was up to no good, butting into other people’s business. She’s a troublemaker. Didn’t I tell you that?”

  “Dad, stop it. She’s a sweet grandmotherly woman.”

  “She’s ruined a little boy’s Christmas and you call that sweet?” He made a scoffing sound and resumed his task of collecting papers and shoving them into his case.

  “Do you have any connections—someone who can locate a spare Intellytron at the last minute?” This was Jake’s only hope.

  Frowning, his father checked his watch. “I’ll make some phone calls, but I can’t promise anything.”

  Jake was grateful for whatever his father could do. “What about your flight?”

  J.R. looked at his watch again and shrugged. “I’ll catch a later one.”

  Jake started to remind his father that changing flights at this point might be difficult, but stopped himself. If J.R. was going to offer his assistance, Jake would be a fool to refuse.

  “I’ll shut down the department and meet you back here in twenty minutes,” Jake said.

  His father had picked up his phone and was punching out numbers. One thing Jake could be assured of—if there was a single Intellytron left in the tristate area, J.R. would locate it and have it delivered to Gabe.

  He hurried back to the toy department and saw that the last-minute customers were being ushered out, bags in hand, and the day’s sales tallied. The store was officially closed. His staff was waiting to exchange Christmas greetings with Jake so they could go home to their families.

  “Is there anything we can do before we leave?” John asked, speaking for the others.

  “No, thanks. You guys have been great. Merry Christmas, everyone!”

  As soon as they’d left, he got Mrs. Miracle’s contact information and called the phone number she’d given HR. To his shock, a recorded voice message informed him that the number was no longer in service. That wasn’t the only shock, either—she’d handed in her notice that afternoon.

  He groaned. Mrs. Miracle was unreachable and had absconded with precious information regarding the robot—like why she’d sold it and to whom.

  Jake returned to his father’s office to find him pacing the floor with the receiver pressed to his ear. J.R. glanced in Jake’s direction, then quickly looked away. That tight-lipped expression told Jake everything he needed to know—his father hadn’t been successful.

  He waited until J.R. hung up the phone.

  “No luck,” Jake said, not bothering to phrase it in the form of a question.

  J.R. shook his head. “Everyone I talked to said as far as they knew we’re the only store in five states to have the robot.”

  “Had. We sold out.”

  “Apparently there isn’t another one to be found anywhere till after Christmas.”

  Jake had expected that. A sick feeling attacked the pit of his stomach as he sank into a chair and sighed loudly. “I appreciate your help, Dad. Thanks for trying.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” J.R. nodded and placed a consoling hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I know how you feel.”

  Jake doubted that but he wasn’t in the mood to argue.

  “Holly’s special,” J.R. said. “I’ve known that since the first time you mentioned her.”

  “She is.” Jake was in full agreement there.

  “If it’d been your mother who needed that thing, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to make sure she got it.”

  He reconsidered. Maybe his father did know what he was feeling. He’d done his utmost to keep Holly and Gabe from being disappointed. Unfortunately, nothing he or J.R. did now would make any difference. It was simply too late.

  “Every Intellytron in New York State and beyond is wrapped and under some youngster’s tree,” J.R. said.

  Jake rubbed his face. “I’ll come up with something to tell Holly and Gabe,” he said, thinking out loud.

  “Is there anything else the boy might like?” his father asked.

  The only toy Gabe had referred to, at least in Jake’s hearing, was the robot. He’d even risked Holly’s wrath and traveled into the city on his own just to see it again and watch it in action.

  “What about a train set?” his father suggested. “Every little boy wants a train set.”

  Jake had. He’d longed for one the Christmas his mother and sister had died. But there’d been no presents the next morning or any Christmas morning since the accident.

  “He might,” Jake said. “But—”

  “Well, we have one of those.”

  Jake wondered what his father was talking about. As head of the toy department Jake was well aware of the inventory left in stock and there were no train sets. This season had been record-breaking in more ways than one; not only the robot but a number of other toys had sold out. The trains, a popula
r new doll, a couple of computer games… “Exactly where is there a train set?” he asked. “Unless you mean the one in the window…”

  “Not the display train. A brand-new one. Except that it’s twenty-one years old.” J.R. swallowed visibly. “I have it,” he said. “It’s still wrapped in the original paper. Your mother bought it for you just before…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

  “Mom bought me the train set I wanted?” Jake asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  J.R. grinned. “You were spoiled, young man. Your mother loved you deeply. And your little sister adored you.”

  A sense of loss hit him hard and for a moment that was all Jake could think about. “You kept the train set all these years?” he finally asked.

  J.R. nodded solemnly. “I always meant to give it to you but I could never part with it. In a way, holding on to it was like…having your mother still with me. I could pretend it was Christmas Eve twenty-one years ago and she hadn’t died. Don’t worry, I didn’t actually believe that, but I could indulge the fantasy of what Christmas should’ve been. That train set made the memory so real….”

  “And you’re willing to give it up for Gabe?”

  “No” was his father’s blunt reply. “I’m willing to give it up for you.”

  Jake smiled and whispered, “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome. Now we’ve got a bit of digging to do. I don’t remember where I put that train set but I know it’s somewhere in the condo. Or maybe the storage locker. Or…”

  “Do we have time? Did you change your flight?”

  “Flight?” J.R. repeated, then seemed to remember he was scheduled to fly out that evening. Shaking his head, he muttered, “It’s fine. I’ll catch one tomorrow if I have to.”

  Jake didn’t want to pressure his father, but he’d promised Holly he’d invite J.R. to dinner at her apartment. Although he’d already tried once, he’d ask again. If he was going to disappoint her on one front, then the least he could do was surprise her on another.

  “Since you’re apparently staying over…” he began.