Perhaps it all went back to her childhood, when her father had been involved in a scandal and brought to trial. The Warwick family had been among the wealthiest and most respected in town back then. Her father narrowly escaped a jail sentence but had died shortly after the trial, a relatively young man. Her mother had to sell the family estate, Lilac Hall, and they lost nearly all their wealth. Jessica had only been in elementary school, so she hadn’t fully understood what was going on. She knew it was something awful, though, and the events had shaped her. She was not a risk taker. She was the very opposite—a conservative person who appreciated routine and stability. There was nothing so wrong with that, she believed. That’s just who she was. But now, her security-loving temperament made these unforeseen changes all the more painful.
“I know the way I am,” she said slowly. “I don’t like change. I don’t think I ever did. When my father got in trouble and we had to leave Lilac Hall, it frightened me. It frightened us all. And now, it’s different but the same. It feels as if I’m losing everything all over again.”
Reverend Ben looked up from his tea. “Do you know, I was just thinking about that same thing. I wasn’t in Cape Light then. But of course, I eventually heard the story. From your mother mostly,” he added. “That must have been a terrible loss for all of you. But look at your mother,” he went on. “Maybe you were too young to realize all she went through, all the challenges she faced. She held your family together and created a new life for all of you. A lot of people would have left town, but not Lillian. She stayed and fought and did what she had to do. And she never let despair overpower her.”
“She was very brave,” Jessica agreed, “but she also grew so hard and bitter. . . . Is that what I have to look forward to? Is that the cost of making it through?”
“Not if you don’t want it to be.” Ben met her gaze and held it. “You don’t have to deny your anger or your frustration. I’m not saying that, believe me. But don’t let the fire take more than its toll, Jessica. Don’t lose your courage and your trust in yourself, or in Sam and your marriage. Don’t let the fire take all that and your faith, too,” he added quietly.
Jessica knew what he said was true. But it was cold comfort to her. She was trying her best not to give in to despair. Didn’t he see that? It was very hard for her. Maybe even impossible.
Ben sighed and sat back. He looked around the small cabin.
“There are a lot of nice things in the storeroom people have donated. You ought to stop by the church one day and take a look.”
Jessica nodded, relieved he had changed the subject. “I will, Ben. I’ll come this week.”
“Good. Well, I’d better go. Carolyn is waiting for me.”
Jessica walked him to the door, and he brought in the small rug and set it by the couch. “You’re in luck. I think the colors might even match,” he remarked as they rolled it out.
“It does match,” she agreed. “And it makes the room look warmer. Thanks for all your help.”
“It was nothing, really.” He smiled at her and gave her a quick hug. “Take care of yourself, Jessica. Your family needs you. Now, more than ever.”
She nodded, knowing what he meant. Don’t slip away from them into a tunnel of self-pity.
She watched Reverend Ben’s car pull away and just as she was closing the door, she saw Sam pull up, a Christmas tree tied to the roof of his car. The boys tumbled out, Tyler carefully carrying a box of pizza.
Darrell helped Sam take the tree off the car and then took one end. Sam carried the other and also an armful of pine garland and a wreath that was almost as big as the cabin.
Jessica ran out to meet them. She could tell from Sam’s expression, he knew she was concerned about spending so much money. It now seemed an extravagance to buy such a big tree, and the wreath and garlands—
“Guess what? Jack Sawyer heard about the fire and made me take all this stuff for free.”
“That was nice of him,” Jessica said, genuinely surprised.
“He gave us a stand and a box of ornaments, too. I’ll bring them in later.”
“Can we eat the pizza?” Tyler asked, popping his head out the door. “I’m so hungry, Mommy.”
“Absolutely. I think we all must be hungry.” Jessica held the door open for Sam and Darrell as they carried the tree inside. They left the wreath and garland out front.
The boys gobbled up their pizza quickly, eager to get started on the tree. Tyler found some plain white paper and scissors and showed everyone how to make snowflake ornaments, a skill he had just learned in preschool. Jessica was surprised at how pretty the lacy white designs looked against the dark green branches.
Sam had been right. The tree did make the cabin feel more homey. Maybe, she thought, at least for tonight, things were getting a little better for them.
WEDNESDAY HAD BEEN SLOW AT THE TREE LOT. FEW CUSTOMERS CAME out in the middle of the week. Julie had stayed in the Christmas shop most of the morning, making ornaments and decorating wreaths. It disturbed Jack to see her doing the same exact craft work his wife had loved, but he made an effort and held his tongue. It wasn’t Julie’s fault. She was an art teacher, for goodness sake, he reminded himself. She was very creative and definitely had a knack for it. The ornaments and wreaths she decorated sold well. He thought she should keep all the money from the shop for herself, but hadn’t gotten around to telling her that yet.
When it was time for Julie to pick up Kate at preschool, Jack asked her to drop him off in town. He pointed to a corner and asked her to pick him up there in half an hour. He didn’t explain where he was going or what he had to do.
But when she picked him up later, it was pretty obvious. Jack had finally gone to the barbershop for a haircut and straight-edge close shave. No more long straggly hair, no more beard. When he finally sat upright and took a long look at himself in the barber’s mirror, he felt shocked. He felt as if he were looking at another man.
Julie seemed to feel the same way. She nearly passed him on the street corner, and he had to wave her down to get her to pull over. He opened the passenger side door, and she gaped at him open-mouthed as he climbed into the car. He sat stiffly, staring straight ahead.
“I had a haircut,” he grumbled.
“Yes, I noticed.” She started the car and pulled away from the curb.
Jack smoothed his hand over his head. His hair was still thick, dark brown with strands of silver at his temples. He felt the back of his neck, where the hair abruptly ended. “The barber went a little too far. I don’t generally wear it this short.”
“Really?” Julie glanced at him briefly. “You ought to start then.”
He looked at her, but she turned back to the road as she steered the truck down Main Street. What did that mean? Did she like the way he looked? Anything would have been an improvement, he told himself. If he had shaved his head and had it buffed with car wax, she would have said she liked it better.
His face felt cold, no longer covered by the beard, and his head felt oddly light. Missing the weight of all that hair, he decided. Or just light-headed from Julie’s subtle compliment.
THAT AFTERNOON JULIE WAS IN AND OUT BETWEEN THE CHRISTMAS shop and taking care of Kate. Despite his crutches, Jack managed to handle the few customers who came in at the end of the day.
When he walked into the kitchen that night, the room was steaming, filled with a rich, tantalizing scent.
“Something smells good.” He stepped to the sink and washed his hands.
“Beef stew and noodles. I hope you like that.” Julie turned from the stove and gave him that look again, as if she almost didn’t recognize him, her gaze lingering. Haircut shock, he had to call it.
“Beef stew. My favorite,” he replied.
“You always say that, Jack,” Kate remarked. “Whatever’s for dinner, you say it’s your favorite.”
“I have a lot of favorites, I guess.” Anything Julie cooked seemed to make the list. He sat down at the table and smiled at K
atie.
“Mine is mac and cheese,” Kate told him. “That’s what a favorite is. Just one.”
“It’s better to have a few, like I do. Then you don’t always have to eat the same thing to be happy, see?”
Kate considered this line of reasoning carefully. “I guess,” she said.
Julie laughed as she dished out the stew. “You must be freezing, Jack. It was cold out there this afternoon.”
“It wasn’t so bad. There were hardly any customers. I was in the shed most of the time.”
“It was nice of you to give Sam Morgan and his boys that tree and all those decorations.”
“I didn’t just give it to him. I knocked a few dollars off the price, that’s all. Sales were slow today.”
She met his glance and laughed. “I know you gave it to him for free. Why is that such a big secret? Are you afraid it might get around that you have a kind side?”
Jack wanted to smile but bravely fought it off. She had caught him. Again. “Just keep it quiet, okay? You’ll ruin my reputation. I felt sorry for the guy. His house burned down.”
“I heard about it in church. How awful. They seem like such a nice family.” She looked down at her plate and shook her head. “I wonder if there is anything I could do for them.”
She was a rare one, Jack thought. Julie had so little of her own but was thinking of how she could help the Morgans. She had such a good heart.
Dinner passed quickly, too quickly. It was one of the few times during the day when he had the chance to sit and talk to Julie. He helped her clean up, and then Kate arrived with her book, so he knew it was getting close to her bedtime.
That had become the routine every evening. Kate didn’t even ask anymore. She just presented the book and sat at the table, waiting for him.
Jack came over and sat down next to her. “What have we here . . . Lester Saves Christmas?” Jack read the title then peered at her, his eyebrows comically raised. “That Lester, he has a lot of adventures, doesn’t he?”
He heard Julie laugh. But it was true. Every night was another adventure for Lester the rabbit. He had his first sleepover, got in trouble at school, took a plane ride to visit his grandmother, had a birthday party. Now he was saving Christmas.
“Okay, let’s start . . .” Jack began reading the story. Kate’s lovely little face quickly assumed a thoughtful expression, the way she always looked when he read aloud to her. She leaned closer, listening.
Then she suddenly tugged at his sleeve. “I can’t see the pictures.”
“Oh, sorry.” He moved his chair closer to hers then put his arm gently around her shoulder, with the book propped in front of them. “How’s that?” he asked.
She nodded. “That’s good.”
He began reading again then felt her squirming around. She was suddenly sitting in his lap. He felt a lurch in his heart. But he sat very still and kept reading. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and scare her away again.
“Make the rabbit’s voice,” Kate reminded him.
“Oh, yes. I forgot.” He looked at Julie. Her brown eyes were glowing. He didn’t dare hold her glance for long.
A short time later, Lester had saved Christmas and the entire rabbit family was pictured in their bunny hole, cuddling under their Christmas tree. Piles of gift-wrapped packages were visible underneath the tree, the shapes looking suspiciously like carrots.
“I wonder what’s in there?” Jack pointed to the picture.
“Maybe it’s umbrellas,” Kate guessed.
“Maybe. I didn’t even think of that.”
“They have a pretty tree,” she remarked.
“Yes, they do.” He closed the book, trying to avoid this touchy topic.
“You should have a Christmas tree, Jack,” Kate said.
“I have loads of them. They’re all outside. Didn’t you ever notice?”
His joke made her giggle. He was proud of himself for fielding the question so deftly. And keeping his promise to Julie—not getting touchy and scaring Kate again. Julie had looked nervous at the start of Kate’s questions, but now her expression looked relaxed again.
“I meant inside. The dressed-up kind of tree,” Kate persisted.
“Oh . . . well . . .”
He didn’t know what to say. How could he say that he didn’t like to celebrate Christmas anymore, all alone. It was too painful. Too many memories.
“I like to keep my trees outside. If I chose one to come in, I think the other ones would feel bad,” he said finally.
He caught Julie’s eye. She lifted one eyebrow, looking surprised and pleased by his answer.
Kate wasn’t buying it. “But if you don’t have a dressed-up tree inside, with lights on it and everything, Santa Claus can’t find you,” she informed him. “You won’t get any presents. Right, Mommy?”
Now he and Kate both looked at Julie.
Jack silently asked her to help him out, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. “That’s right, honey. Jack doesn’t have a decorated tree inside, and Santa probably won’t come here. Which is too bad, because Jack is really a very nice man, and he deserves a few presents.”
Jack felt himself flush. Was he actually blushing? Could she possibly like him, he wondered?
He brushed the thought aside. She’s just trying to be nice, to say nice things in front of her daughter. She isn’t flirting with me or sending some secret message.
He forced a smile. “Santa hasn’t stopped here in a long time, Kate. I think he’s forgotten where I live.”
He spoke in a joking tone then saw her crestfallen face. He suddenly realized Kate thought she wouldn’t get any presents for Christmas either if Santa couldn’t find this house.
“But he knows where you are,” Jack said quickly. “He knows where all the really nice kids are and what they want for Christmas. He has a big map, with stickers with kids’ names on them all over it,” he elaborated. “I’m sure your name is on there. In big letters, too.”
Kate looked comforted by this explanation. “My favorite present that I asked him for is a Webkinz dog. And I want a ballet skirt . . . and my other favorite is a pink bike. . . .”
She continued, item by item, with Jack nodding thoughtfully.
“I wrote it down in a letter. Well, Mommy wrote it for me,” she told Jack. “And we put it in the mailbox.”
“But you know Santa can’t bring you all those presents,” Julie reminded her.
“Yes, I know.” Kate sighed. “Too many favorites,” she explained to Jack.
Jack nodded. He felt his heart melting. He knew Julie would struggle just to get a few of those gifts.
“Santa has the letter,” Jack promised her. “Don’t worry, he’ll find you wherever you are.”
“At Uncle Peter’s house, on Long Island,” Kate said.
“Yes, that’s right. You won’t be here for Christmas. So you don’t have to worry. I’m sure your aunt and uncle have a very nice tree,” he assured her.
Jack felt bad instantly. With all this talk about Christmas, he had almost forgotten that Julie and Kate would be on their way again and he would be alone. He met Julie’s gaze, and the soft light there seemed to signal that she was thinking the same thing.
“Time for bed, Miss Kate,” Julie said. She walked over to Kate’s seat, and the little girl jumped into her arms. Kate was probably too big for Julie to carry, but she was too sweet and cute to resist.
Jack sat and read the newspaper. He turned the pages slowly, listening to Julie put Kate to bed. The soft murmur of their voices, then quiet.
He waited. Would she come downstairs again, as she sometimes did, and work at the table on her decorations? Or should he just give up and go to bed? He got up and began emptying the dishwasher, dragging around his cast. He was too nervous to sit still and read.
Finally, he heard her light step on the stairway, coming toward the kitchen again. She walked in and picked up the kettle and filled it with water.
“Want some tea?” s
he asked.
“No thanks.” He took a mug from the cupboard and handed it to her. “That Lester. What’s next? I suppose in the next book, he’ll be the first rabbit in outer space.”
Julie laughed then looked at him, tilting her head to one side. “I’m sorry if Kate asks too many questions and puts you on the spot.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. At least she’s not afraid of me anymore.”
“No, she’s not afraid of you. Now she’s worried about you. She said you need a dressed-up tree, even if we go to Long Island. She’s positive Santa won’t find you otherwise.”
Jack smiled and shrugged. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s just my trouble.”
Julie stepped closer to him. Uncomfortably close.
“Jack, the trouble with you is—”
She stopped herself before finishing the sentence.
“Is what?” he coaxed her. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear what she had to say. But he couldn’t resist. She was standing so close he could smell her perfume. Or maybe it was just the scent of the flowery soap she used.
Her warm brown eyes sparkled at him. “Never mind.” She shook her head, looking suddenly self-conscious. She shut off the stove and put the cup away. “I’m sort of tired. I think I’ll just say good night.”
He nodded at her, without saying anything, his mouth suddenly dry as sand.
She left the room and he was left wondering what she had been about to say. Was she really thinking about him? He knew he was thinking about kissing her when she got so close. He hadn’t felt like that in a very long time.
The impulse was both exciting and scary. But he couldn’t let himself go off the deep end and act like a fool.
She’s had some problems and is pulling her life together, he reminded himself. But it won’t be long before she’s ready to get out in the world again. She’ll catch some guy’s eye in a heartbeat. Some younger guy, he told himself.
There was no use getting involved with her. No sense complicating matters, he reminded himself.
No sense at all.
A Christmas Star Page 13
