The Last Lonely Christmas

by Claire Sanders

  But it was not to be. In what was turning into a regular occurrence, his truck was parked near the back door of her house when she arrived.

  Will was sweeping up dust and debris from the kitchen floor when Mary stepped through the door. The walls were gone, leaving only naked studs. The cabinet doors and the scarred laminate countertop had been removed, and gaping holes showed where the old sink, stove, and refrigerator had been.

  Will smiled when he saw her. “Hey, Mary. Glad you’re home early. Saves me a trip back here tonight.”

  Mary rubbed her right temple. “Why do you need to see me?”

  “As you can see, I finished tearing out the countertops today. If you’re interested in looking at what’s available at the surplus yard, we’ll need to go soon.”

  Mary massaged the strained muscle in her neck. “I’m off on Saturday. Can we go then?”

  “Yeah, but I’d like to get an early start. Can you meet me there at eight o’clock?”

  Mary sank into the one kitchen chair that wasn’t covered with sheetrock dust. “Can you text me the address?”

  “Sure.” Will pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket. “I’ll do it right now.”

  Mary propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. As soon as Will left, she was taking off her business suit and going straight to bed.

  Will pocketed his cell phone and studied her. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “It’s just a headache. Was there anything else you needed?”

  Will pulled the other chair close to her and sat down. “Give me your hand.”

  “Why?”

  “I know a trick to make your headache disappear. Give me your hand.”

  Mary wasn’t sure about her contractor’s ability to cure headaches, but she extended her right hand.

  Will covered her hand with both of his. “Now take some deep breaths and let them out. Slowly.”

  His hands were large and calloused but warm. She caught a glimpse of blue nail polish before she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

  Will massaged the soft part of her hand between the thumb and forefinger. It was surprisingly painful and Mary jerked her hand away reflexively.

  “Easy does it,” Will said in a soothing voice. He took her hand again and resumed the gentle pressure. “Close your eyes again. Concentrate on your breathing.”

  Mary followed his instructions, allowing him to manipulate the soft pads at the base of her fingers. He was a big man with a muscular build, but his touch was soft. She wasn’t accustomed to being touched, but Will’s hands comforted her the way one would reassure a frightened kitten.

  After a minute of relaxing silence, Will spoke in a low voice. “Robin talks about you morning and night. It’s about to drive me and her brother crazy.”

  “You’d think she’d run out of things to say.”

  “My girl isn’t the quiet type. Grant, on the other hand…he’s either got his head in a computer or stuck in a book.”

  “He’s good with computers?”

  “He’s rebuilt two of them by scrounging parts from broken ones. Please don’t ask me to explain. I can barely use my phone.”

  The silent kitchen was a welcome relief from the angry voices of employees and the raucous sounds of the busy store. Will’s soft voice was a tender caress to her bruised ears. “My wife taught me this trick. She had terrible migraines.”

  “Did she ever find anything that helped?”

  “That’s not an easy question to answer. Give me your other hand.”

  Mary uncurled her fingers from the fist she’d unconsciously made and laid her left hand in Will’s palm. The initial pain had eased into a dull ache, and as Will continued to rub, she felt her shoulder muscles begin to uncoil.

  “Had a stressful day, did you?” Will asked.

  “Hmm…”

  “What did you do today?”

  “Listened to complaints. Solved problems. Same thing I do every day.”

  “No wonder you’ve got a headache.” Will turned her hand over and continued to press each part of her hand softly. “Do you like your work?”

  “Mostly. I like helping people get and keep jobs.”

  Will rubbed slowly, pressing warmth into joints she seldom thought about and releasing the tension she’d unknowingly stored. Mary lowered her chin to her chest.

  “Mary?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you going to fall asleep in that chair?”

  “Probably.”

  Will laughed softly. “Okay, then. I’ll see you on Saturday morning.” He set her hand in her lap and left the room quietly. Mary sat in the silent kitchen, listening to his truck back out of her driveway. When she opened her eyes, she saw the imprint of his body in the dust-covered chair. Her headache had evaporated.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A few days later, Mary decided that Alexis was avoiding her. What other explanation could there be for three unreturned phone calls and several ignored e-mails? Mr. Alden was still in a rotten mood, barking at employees like a dog with a burr in its paw, and the new cash registers were still boxed up in the store room.

  Neil tapped lightly on her open door. “Are you busy?”

  Mary leaned back in her chair and smiled at her friend. “Just the usual. What’s up?”

  Neil rubbed the back of his head. “I was hoping you could go downstairs and give me some advice on jewelry.”

  Mary’s smile widened. “Oh, really? Buying for someone special?”

  Neil ducked his head and smiled. “Stephanie and I had a long talk and…well, I think everything’s going to be okay. I’m not buying a ring today. I just want to look.”

  Mary laughed with him and stood. “Sure, I’ll go with you. But jewelry is not something I know a lot about.”

  “I just want your opinion,” Neil said as they headed toward the escalator. “It would be awful if I bought something Stephanie didn’t like.”

  White Christmas was playing when they arrived at the jewelry counter. Mrs. Gallagher and her ever-present Santa hat were deep in conversation with two teenaged boys, and the other sales people were busy with customers. Mary escorted Neil behind the counter to the fine jewelry section. “I’ve never met Stephanie. Does she wear a lot of jewelry?”

  “I guess so. Earrings and bracelets, I think. Maybe a necklace once in a while?”

  Neil noticed every detail about a computer program but couldn’t recall his girlfriend’s style. Mary tried another approach. “Are you thinking flashy or subdued?”

  Not one to be narrowed down, Neil replied, “Maybe something in-between.”

  Olivia Bishop rounded the corner and her eyes grew large. “Why are you two looking at wedding rings? Do you have something to tell me?”

  “Neil’s not shopping for me,” Mary protested. “I’m not that kind of friend. He gave me hand lotion last Christmas.”

  “Uh-huh,” Olivia said with a grin. “I suppose it would be a giant leap to go from hand lotion to diamonds.”

  “I just wanted to see what we have in stock,” Neil explained. “Mary, what do you think about that one?”

  Before Mary could answer, Mrs. Gallagher interrupted. “Oh, Mary! I’m so glad to see you. I wanted to talk to you about Christmas. Would it be all right if I brought a relish tray? I make bread-and-butter pickles every year and I’d love to share them.”

  Mrs. Gallagher wore a large pin with the words Dear Santa, I can explain. Mary laughed at the sentiment. “Bring whatever you’d like.”

  “You’re having a Christmas party?” Neil asked. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

  “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like,” Mary said. “Mrs. Gallagher and some friends from church are coming to my house for lunch on Christmas day.”

  Mrs. Gallagher placed a hand on Neil’s arm. “You know, young man, Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. My husband and I would sleep late and then enjoy a big breakfast. Afterwards, we would exchange gifts and watch a holiday movie. Why, d
o you know that we…”

  Across Mrs. Gallagher’s shoulder, Mary saw Alexis striding through the perfume department. “Excuse me,” she said, but Mrs. Gallagher chattered on, oblivious to everyone except Neil.

  Mary hurried across the sales floor, intent on catching Alexis. If she could just talk to Alexis, surely they could work out whatever differences they had. When she was within reach, Mary touched the sleeve of Alexis’s sapphire blue jacket.

  Alexis turned, a cell phone at her ear, and held up a finger as a way of asking Mary to wait. “I can be there tomorrow,” Alexis said into the phone. “Nine o’clock?”

  Not wanting to eavesdrop, Mary took a few steps away, but Alexis finished her call and slipped the phone into her pocket. “Now then, Mary, what did you need? I only have a few minutes.”

  “Mr. Alden told me you weren’t able to launch the new technology because of something I hadn’t done, but I don’t know what you need.”

  A slight frown crossed Alexis’s perfectly made-up face. “I never told Mr. Alden you were holding us back.”

  Someone was lying. Mr. Alden? He had no reason to lie.

  Alexis smiled her beauty-contestant smile and patted Mary’s shoulder. “I’m aware of the software issues, and my team is handling them. I’ll let you know when I need you to create a new training schedule. Don’t worry about it.” Alexis pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned away from Mary.

  As Mary watched Alexis stride with runway-model perfection toward the elevators, she was more baffled than ever. Should she report back to Mr. Alden or wait and see what happened next? One choice would make her a tattle-tell, the other might lead to more problems.

  Neil approached her, his eyes wide and his gait staggered. “Thanks a lot, Mary. I didn’t know if I’d ever get away from Mrs. Gallagher. Are my ears red?”

  “They look fine to me.”

  “Uh-huh. What was Alexis up to this morning?”

  “She was assuring me that the technology problems were under control.”

  Neil’s mouth puckered as though he were eating a pickle. “I’m telling you, Mary, that woman got her job based on good looks and bluster. She doesn’t know a motherboard from a mother ship.”

  Mary snapped her fingers. “Oh, that reminds me, have you ever built a computer from scratch?”

  “Gee, change the subject much? But to answer your question, computers aren’t that difficult to build. You can either order parts or put one together by scrounging parts from old sets. Why do you ask?”

  “My contractor has a kid in high school who’s interested in that sort of thing. If you don’t mind, I thought I’d offer your expertise.”

  “Fine by me. Are you going to wire your house for modern technology?”

  If Neil could see her bank account, he’d understand why that question was so funny. “I don’t know what wiring my house for modern technology means, but it sounds expensive. Besides, I’m not the tech-head you are. A regular outlet suits me fine.”

  Neil adjusted his dark-framed glasses. “How’s the remodeling going?”

  “It’s messy and loud. I woke up this morning to a group of strange men tearing rotten wood off my house. It was like invasion of the giant termites.”

  “I think I saw that movie.” When Mary narrowed her eyes, he laughed. “How about we grab a bite to eat? I missed breakfast and I’m starving.”

  Mary always brought her lunch in order to save money, but now that she was without a kitchen, even something as simple as a sandwich was a challenge. “That would be great. Let me go upstairs and grab my wallet.”

  Neil took her arm and steered her toward the nearest exit. “My treat today. To repay you for helping me pick out a ring.”

  “I hardly did anything.”

  “Oh, we’re not finished looking yet, Mary. We have at least ten more jewelry stores to visit.”

  Mary’s only reply was a smile. Neil might not realize it yet, but there was no way she’d help him shop for a ring. Even though they were coworkers and friends, asking a single woman to shop for another girl’s engagement ring was like asking the loser of the race to buy a trophy for the winner.

  * * *

  The building surplus store was five miles outside city limits. A small sign sat in front of a complex of metal buildings and Will’s truck was the only one in the shell-covered parking lot. Mary parked next to Will’s truck and opened the door of what she hoped was the main entrance. Stained-glass windows and brass light fixtures hung from the ceiling and fireplace mantels of various sizes and colors were stacked against a wall.

  “Good morning,” a cheery male voice greeted her. “How can I help you?”

  Mary searched for the source of the greeting and finally located an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard seated on a stool. “Good morning. I’m supposed to meet Will Stewart here.”

  The man’s eyes lit with amusement. “Now, why would a pretty woman like you want to hang out with an ugly so-and-so like Will Stewart?”

  “Hey!” Will rounded the corner, a box of tile in his hand. “Careful who you’re calling ugly. Morning, Mary. This is my friend Joe Harrison.”

  Mary shook hands with the older gentleman. “Is this your business?”

  “Sure is. I’ve been collecting, trading, and selling for almost ten years. What are you in the market for?”

  “A little bit of everything.”

  “That’s a good description of what I’ve got. A little bit of everything. Will, are you working on this pretty lady’s house?”

  Will placed the tile on the counter. “Yep. What have you got in the way of countertops?”

  Joe reached for a cane and rose to his feet slowly. “Follow me.”

  Mary trailed Joe and Will ambled along behind her. She wove her way through rows of shelving that seemed to reach the ceiling. After passing through a maze of mismatched kitchen cabinets, Joe stopped.

  “I’ve got some pieces of granite, a lot of laminate, and plenty of tile. Have you got your heart set on anything special?” Joe asked.

  “I’ve got my heart set on not going broke,” Mary answered.

  Joe chuckled. “It can get expensive, that’s for sure. Come over here, Will, and let me show you this mahogany. Came in last week.”

  Will stepped around Mary and followed Joe to a corner. The older man pointed his cane to a pile of lumber, and Will moved several panels of plywood to the side. Then he gave a low whistle of appreciation.

  “Yeah,” Joe said with a gleam in his eye. “I thought you’d like that.”

  Mary stepped around boxes of screws until she could see what Will was admiring. Several pieces of reddish-brown wood were stacked in a dusty pile. Will pulled a tape measure off his belt and measured the pieces. “This will probably be enough. Is this all you have?”

  Joe gestured to the stack of wood. “You know how it is. There’s no guarantee I’ll ever see this quality again.”

  “Nice grain, beautiful color, no big knots.” Will turned to Mary. “What do you think?”

  “About what?”

  Will’s scar jumped to the side as he grinned. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget you don’t speak carpenter.”

  Joe laughed. “We were thinking that this might make good countertops. The wood can easily be cut to fit your kitchen layout, and then your ugly contractor will sand and finish it for you until it gleams in the light.”

  Mary tried to imagine how the kitchen would look if Will used mahogany. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen wooden countertops.”

  “They give a kitchen a warm, homey feel,” Joe said. “I’ve got some catalogs and design magazines in my office you can take a look at.”

  “And the price?”

  “The price depends on how much stuff you buy from me. What else are you looking for?”

  Mary reached into her purse and withdrew a piece of paper. “I have a list.”

  “Good enough,” Joe said with a chuckle. “Give it to me, and I’ll lead you on the grand tour of my establis
hment.”

  Two hours later, Mary’s head swam with the countless decisions she’d had to make. She’d debated everything from paint color to plumbing fixtures. Now, she sat at a folding table in Joe’s office.

  “Here you go, Mary,” Joe said as he placed a mug of coffee in front of her. “You sit and gather your wits while Will and I go over everything.” He removed some magazines from under his arm. “I keep these on hand for people to get ideas. The one with the flowers on the cover is full of kitchen designs.”

  “Thanks,” Mary said, stirring sugar into her coffee. She’d already priced similar items at the building supply stores. If Will was right about the lower prices here, she’d have a small cushion for unforeseen events.

  “Where’s my coffee?” Will asked.

  “You know where the pot is,” Joe answered. “I only get coffee for pretty women.” Will sighed dramatically and shook his head, but Joe only chuckled. “You can get me a cup too.”

  As Will stepped out of the office, Joe joined her at the table. “How’d you end up with Will Stewart as your contractor?”

  Mary thumbed through the nearest magazine. “My boss recommended him. Do you think I’m in good hands?”

  “None better. I’ve known Will and his family since he was a boy. Have you met his family?”

  “I’ve met his children, although his son hasn’t actually spoken to me yet.”

  Joe nodded. “Don’t take it personally. Most teenage boys would rather go to school with underwear on their head than have a conversation with an adult.”

  Will entered, carrying two mugs of coffee. “Here you go, my friend. Are you ready to talk numbers?”

  Joe pulled Mary’s list from his pocket. “Why don’t you take this list in to Paul? He keeps track of the inventory.”