Call Me Mrs. Miracle

by Debbie Macomber

  “Yes?”

  “Have Christmas dinner with Holly and Gabe and me tomorrow afternoon. Will you do that, Dad?”

  His father took a long moment to consider the invitation. Then, as if the words were difficult to say, he slowly whispered, “I believe I will. Something tells me your mother would want me to.”

  Eighteen

  God isn’t politically correct.

  He’s just correct.

  —Mrs. Miracle

  Holly set the phone down and forced herself to keep the smile on her face. Gabe’s robot was missing. Because Gabe was in earshot, she couldn’t ask Jake the questions that clamored in her mind. He’d said something about Mrs. Miracle, but Holly had been too disheartened to remember what followed.

  Adding to her distress, Jake had said there was something he needed to do with his father, which meant he’d have to renege on dinner that night. In addition to the bad news about the missing robot, Jake had passed on some good news, too. Evidently his father had changed his plans and would be joining them on Christmas Day, after all, which delighted Holly and greatly encouraged her. She recognized that this was no small concession on J.R.’s part.

  “Isn’t Jake coming for dinner?” Gabe asked, looking up from his handheld video game. He lay on the sofa as he expertly manipulated the keys.

  “I… No. Unfortunately, Jake has something else he has to do,” Holly explained, doing her best to maintain an even voice. “Something really important,” she emphasized.

  Gabe frowned and sat up. “What’s more important than Christmas Eve?”

  Again Holly made an effort to pretend nothing was wrong. “We’ll have to ask when we see him tomorrow,” she said airily.

  Her nephew slouched back onto the sofa. His downcast look prompted Holly to sit beside him. She felt as depressed as Gabe did, but was trying hard not to show it. In the larger scheme of life, these disappointments were minor. Nevertheless, she’d hoped to give Gabe a very special gift this year. And she’d hoped—so had Gabe—to spend Christmas Eve with Jake.

  “Did Jake promise to come tomorrow?”

  “He’ll be here.”

  “But he said he’d come for dinner tonight, too—and he didn’t.”

  “We’ll have a wonderful time this evening, just the two of us.” She slipped her arm around his small frame and squeezed gently.

  Gabe didn’t seem too sure of that. “Can I email my dad?”

  “Of course.” Holly would come up with ways to keep them both occupied until it was time to walk to church for the Christmas Eve service. They could watch a Christmas movie; Gabe might enjoy The Bishop’s Wife, Holly’s favorite, or A Christmas Carol with Alastair Sim as the ultimate Scrooge. Still cheering herself up, she headed into her kitchen to start frying the chicken, which had been marinating in buttermilk since six that morning. They’d have turkey tomorrow, but tonight she’d make the meal she associated with her mother…with comfort.

  Gabe leaped up from the sofa and hurried into the kitchen. “Can we invite Mrs. Miracle for dinner?” he asked excitedly.

  “Oh, Gabe, I wish we’d thought of that sooner.”

  “I like Mrs. Miracle.”

  “I like her, too.” The older woman had never mentioned whether she had family in the area, which made Holly wonder if she was spending this evening by herself.

  Gabe returned to writing his email. “Dad’s surprise didn’t come, did it?” he said in a pensive voice.

  Holly suddenly realized it hadn’t. This complicated everything. Not only wouldn’t she be able to give her nephew the only toy he’d requested for Christmas, but the gift his father had mailed hadn’t arrived, either.

  “He might be mad at me for going into the city by myself,” Gabe murmured.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m positive that’s not it.”

  Before she could finish her reassurances, the doorbell chimed. Hoping, despite everything, that it was Jake, Holly answered the door, still wearing her apron. To her astonishment, Emily Miracle was standing in the hall.

  “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unexpectedly like this.”

  “Mrs. Miracle! Mrs. Miracle!” Gabe rushed to the door. “We were just talking about you.” He grabbed her free hand and tugged her into the apartment. “Can you stay for dinner? Aunt Holly’s making fried chicken and there’s corn and mashed potatoes and cake, too. You can stay, can’t you? Jake said he was coming and now he can’t.”

  “Oh, dear,” Emily said, laughing softly. “I suppose I could. I came by to bring you my Christmas salad. It’s a family favorite and I wanted to share it with you.”

  “That’s so nice of you, Emily,” Holly said, adding a place setting to the table. Her mood instantly lightened.

  “Jake said he’d come,” Gabe pouted.

  “He’s doing something important,” Holly reminded her nephew.

  “I’m sure he is,” Emily said, giving Holly a covered ceramic bowl and removing her coat. “It isn’t like Jake to cancel at the last moment without a good reason. He’s a very responsible young man—in his personal life and in business, too. He’ll do his father proud.” She held out her hands for the bowl.

  “You mean does his father proud,” Holly corrected, passing it back. She had every confidence that Jake would one day step up to the helm at Finley’s, but that was sometime in the future. Jake seemed to think it might take as long as five years, and he said that suited him fine.

  “Yes, that’s what I mean. I’ve enjoyed working with him this Christmas season.” Emily made her way into the kitchen and put her salad in the refrigerator.

  “Can you come to church with us?” Gabe asked, following her. “It’s Christmas Eve, and there’s a special program and singing, too.”

  “I’d like that very much, but unfortunately I already have other plans.”

  “We’re grateful you could have dinner with us,” Holly said. She waited until Gabe had left the room before she asked Emily about the robot.

  “Do you have any idea what happened to the you-know-what Jake put aside?” She spoke guardedly because the apartment was small and she wanted to ensure that Gabe didn’t hear anything that would upset him.

  Mrs. Miracle was about to answer when he dashed into the kitchen again.

  Grasping the situation, she immediately distracted him. “Do you want to help me fill the water glasses?” she asked.

  “Okay,” Gabe agreed.

  Emily poured water into the pitcher, which she handed to Gabe. Holding it carefully, he walked over to the dining area, which was actually part of the living room. The older woman turned to Holly. “I think there was a misunderstanding between Jake and me,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll clear everything up as soon as I can.”

  “Please do,” Holly whispered. She tried to recall her conversation with Jake. He seemed to imply that Emily had sold the robot to someone else. That didn’t seem possible. She’d never do anything to hurt a little boy; Holly was convinced of it.

  The fried chicken couldn’t have been better; in fact, it was as good as when her mother had prepared this dish. Holly had wanted tonight’s meal to be memorable for Gabe, and because Mrs. Miracle was with them, it was.

  During dinner, Emily entertained them with story after story of various jobs she’d taken through the years. She’d certainly had her share of interesting experiences, working as a waitress, a nanny, a nurse and now a salesperson.

  All too soon, it was time to get ready for church. Holly reluctantly stood up from the table.

  “Everything was lovely,” Mrs. Miracle told her with a smile of appreciation. “I’ve never had chicken that was more delicious.” She carried her empty dessert plate to the kitchen sink. “And that coconut cake…”

  “I liked the sauce best,” Gabe chimed in, putting his plate in the sink, too.

  “I loved the salad,” Holly said, and was sincere. “I hope you’ll give me the recipe.”

  “Of course. I’ll be happy to write it out for you now if you’ll get
me some paper and a pen.”

  Holly tore a page from a notebook and grabbed Gabe’s Santa pen; minutes later, Mrs. Miracle handed her the recipe with a flourish. “Here you go.” Then she frowned at her watch. “Oh, my. I hate to run, but I’m afraid I must.”

  “No, no, don’t worry,” Holly assured her. “We have to leave for church, anyway. I’m just glad you could be with us this evening. It meant a lot to Gabe and me.”

  The older woman bent down and kissed the boy’s cheek. “This is going to be a very special Christmas for you, young man. Just you wait. It’s one you’ll remember your whole life. Someday you’ll tell your grandchildren about the best Christmas of your life.”

  “Do you really think so?” Gabe asked, eyes alight with happiness.

  She reached for her coat and put it on before she hugged Holly goodbye. “It’s going to be a special Christmas for you, as well, my dear.”

  Holly smiled politely. Maybe Mrs. Miracle was right, but it definitely hadn’t started out that way.

  Gabe woke at six o’clock Christmas morning. He knocked on Holly’s bedroom door and shouted, “It’s Christmas!” Apparently he suspected she might have forgotten.

  Holly opened one eye. Still half-asleep, she sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

  “Can we open our presents?” Gabe asked, leaping onto her bed.

  “What about breakfast?” she said.

  “I’m not hungry. You aren’t, either, are you?” The question had a hopeful lilt, as though any thought of food would be equally irrelevant to her.

  “I could eat,” she said.

  Gabe’s face fell.

  “I could eat…later,” she amended.

  His jubilant smile reappeared.

  “Shall we see what Santa brought you?” she asked, tossing aside her covers. She threw on her housecoat and accompanied him into the living room, where the gifts beneath the small tree awaited their inspection.

  Gabe fell to his knees and began rooting through the packages she’d set out the night before, after he’d gone to sleep. He must’ve known from the size of the wrapped boxes that the robot wasn’t among them. He sat back on his heels. “Santa didn’t get me Intellytron, did he?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I hear Santa sometimes makes late deliveries.”

  “He does?” Hope shone in his face. “When?”

  “That I can’t say.” Rather than discuss the subject further, Holly hurried into the kitchen.

  While she put on a pot of coffee, Gabe arranged the gifts in two small piles. Most of them had been mailed by Holly’s parents, and Gabe’s didn’t take long to unwrap. He was wonderful, sweetly expressing gratitude and happiness with his few gifts. A number of times Holly had to wipe tears from her eyes.

  “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” she said when she could speak. “I know how badly you wanted the robot—and I’m sure Santa has one for you but it might be a little late.”

  Gabe looked up from the new video game she’d purchased on her way home from work. “I bet I’ll still get Intellytron. Mrs. Miracle said this was going to be my best Christmas ever, remember? And it wouldn’t be without my robot.” He jumped up and slid his arms around Holly’s neck and gave her a tight hug.

  She opened her gifts after that—a book from her parents, plus a calendar and a peasant-style blouse. And the origami purse from Gabe, which brought fresh tears to her eyes.

  They had a leisurely breakfast of French toast and then, while Gabe played with his new video game, Holly got the turkey in the oven. The doorbell rang around eleven o’clock.

  Jake and his father came in, carrying a large wrapped box between them. Holly’s heartbeat accelerated. It must be Intellytron, although the box actually seemed too big.

  “Merry Christmas,” Jake said, and held her close. “Don’t get excited—this isn’t what you think it is,” he whispered in her ear just before he kissed her.

  “Merry Christmas, young man,” J.R. said, and shook Gabe’s hand.

  “What’s that?” Gabe asked, eyeing the box Jake had set on the carpet.

  “Why don’t you open it and see?” J.R. suggested.

  Jake stood at Holly’s side with his arm around her waist. “I’m sorry I had to cancel last night,” he said in a low voice.

  “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

  “Mrs. Miracle came over,” Gabe said as he sat on the floor beside the box.

  “Emily Miracle?” Jake frowned. “Did she happen to deliver something?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “She brought a Christmas salad for dinner,” Gabe told him, tearing away the ribbon. He looked up. “We didn’t eat it all. Do you want to taste it?” He wrinkled his nose. “For green stuff, it was pretty good.”

  “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dinner,” J.R. said, smiling down at him. “Go ahead, young man, and let ’er rip.”

  Gabe didn’t need any encouragement. He tore away the wrapping paper. “It’s a train set,” he said. “That was the second thing on my Christmas list, after Intellytron. Can we set it up now?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Jake told him and got down on his knees with Gabe. “I wanted one when I was around your age, too.”

  “Did you get one?” Gabe asked.

  Jake looked at his father, who sat on the sofa, and nodded. “I certainly did, and it was the best train set money could buy.”

  Gabe took the engine out of the box. “Wow, this is heavy.”

  “Let’s lay out the track first, shall we?”

  Holly sat on the sofa next to Jake’s father. “I’m so glad you could have dinner with us.”

  “I am, too.” A pained look came over him and he gave a slight shake of his head. “I was sure I’d never want to celebrate Christmas again, but I’ve decided it’s time I released the past and started to prepare for the future.”

  “The future?” she repeated uncertainly.

  “Grandchildren,” J.R. said with a sheepish grin. “I have the distinct feeling that my son has met the woman he’s going to love as much as I loved his mother.”

  Embarrassed, Holly looked away. With all her heart she hoped she was that woman.

  “Jake would be furious with me if he knew I’d said anything. It’s too soon—I realize that. He probably isn’t aware of how strongly he feels, but I know. I’ve seen my son with other women. He’s in love with you, the same way I was in love with Helene.”

  Holly was about to make some excuse about dinner and return to the kitchen when the doorbell chimed again. Everyone looked at her as if she knew who it would be.

  “I…I wonder who that is,” she murmured, walking to the door.

  “It could be Mrs. Miracle,” Gabe said hopefully.

  Only it wasn’t.

  Holly opened the apartment door to find her brother standing there in his army fatigues, wearing a smile of pure happiness. In his arms he held a large wrapped box.

  “Mickey!” she screamed. He put down the box and hugged her fiercely.

  “Dad!” Gabe flew off the floor as though jet-propelled and launched himself into his father’s arms.

  Eyes closed, Mickey held the boy for a long, long time.

  Merry Christmas, Holly thought, tears slipping down her face. Just as Emily Miracle had predicted, this was destined to be the best Christmas of Gabe’s life.

  Baby Arugula Salad with Goat Cheese, Pecans and Pomegranate Seeds

  (from Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove Cookbook)

  This salad is a lively blend of sharp arugula, tangy goat cheese, mellow pecans and tart pomegranates. If you can’t find arugula, substitute any delicate salad green.

  1 small shallot, minced

  3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

  1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

  Salt and pepper, to taste

  ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil

  10 to 12 cups baby arugula (about 10 ounces)

  1 cup pomegranate seeds (from one pomegranate)

  ½ cup toasted pecans, chopped
>
  1 cup crumbled goat cheese

  In a measuring cup, whisk shallot, vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper until combined. Slowly pour oil in a stream until blended.

  In a large serving bowl, combine arugula, pomegranate seeds and pecans. Add dressing; toss to coat. Top salad with cheese; toss once.

  TIP: Extra-virgin olive oil, which comes from the first cold pressing of the olives, has a stronger, purer flavor than virgin olive oil. Since it is more expensive, most cooks prefer to use it only for salad and other uncooked dishes. Virgin olive oil is better for sautéing.

  Serves 8.

  Nineteen

  Searching for a new look? Have your faith lifted!

  —Mrs. Miracle

  Mickey stepped into the apartment, still holding Gabe, and extended his hand to Jake. “You must be Jake Finley.”

  “And you must be Holly’s brother, Mickey.”

  “I am.”

  “What’s in there?” Gabe asked, looking over his father’s shoulder at the large box resting on the other side of the open door.

  “That’s a little something Santa asked me to deliver,” Mickey told his son. Gabe squirmed out of his arms and raced back into the hallway. He stared at Holly and his grin seemed to take up his whole face. “I think I know what it is,” he declared before pushing the box inside. “Aunt Holly told me Santa sometimes makes deliveries late.”

  No one needed to encourage him to unwrap the gift this time. He tore into the wrapping paper, which flew in all directions. As soon as he saw the picture of Intellytron on the outside of the box, Gabe gave a shout of exhilaration.

  “It’s my robot! It’s my robot!”