Finding Love in Christmas Creek

by Mary L. Briggs

  “It hasn’t been cleaned in here in a good long while,” Janet whispered.

  “I think there’s a kitchen at the back of the store,” Macy whispered to Scott.

  The small beam of light led them past empty shelves and glass windows, covered with plywood on the outside of the building, muffling the sounds of traffic on the main street of the town.

  The large counter at the back of the abandoned store was covered with dirt and litter, left by the numerous rats and mice that probably occupied the space. Macy shivered again.

  They stopped outside the door that led into what Macy had guessed to be the kitchen.

  “Maybe you ladies better go back into the store. . .just in case,” Scott said.

  “Not me,” Macy argued, looking back at the opened door of her store. The spot of light seemed far away. Walking back through the dark space without a flashlight was not on her agenda.

  “I’m going in, too,” Janet insisted.

  “Well. . .you two stand back while I open the door.”

  The old wooden door made a loud creak as it swung into the dark room.

  Scott let out a breath. “Looks to be unoccupied, at the moment. But, let’s make sure not to touch anything,” he warned, as they stepped inside.

  It was obvious that the room had been swept and cleared of trash and litter. The old stove and refrigerator had been washed and were being used as counters and storage for books and several containers of clothing. On a small cot in the corner was a sleeping bag, rolled up neatly. Next to it was a shiny red battery lantern, and a stack of books. Scott shined the beam onto the books. The top one was a book about World War II. Below it were other books about American history.

  Macy leaned down and read the titles. “I think a couple of these are school books.”

  “You think it might be a child?” Janet asked.

  “I think the pictures we got suggest it’s a young person,” Scott answered. “Look, here is his stash of food.” The beam of light rested on a large, clear plastic bin. Inside was a jar of peanut butter, jelly, crackers, and a loaf of bread. Stuffed to one side were several bags of potato chips and some small cans of dip, as well as a package of cookies.

  “I wish I could feed him a warm meal,” Macy commented. “Just think how lonely and cold he is in here at night.”

  “Well, for now, I think it’s best we not interfere,” Scott said. “Let’s go back in the store and talk things over.”

  Scott secured the shop door, just as it had been. “Maybe if we move the camera, we can get a clearer shot of him,” he said, going to the tree and redirecting the lens of the camera toward the quilt covered door.

  Macy made coffee and handed mugs to Scott and Janet. She took a sip of the dark liquid and willed it to warm her. It had been cold in the old building, but it was the fright that had made her shiver. Now, all she could think about was the kid that was trying to make it on his own.

  “All I know is, we’ve got to help him,” she said.

  “Let’s just find out the situation, first,” Scott agreed, taking a drink of his coffee.

  “I think we have to be careful,” Janet chimed in. “After all, we don’t really know anything about him.”

  Scott nodded. “Right. And that means no more coming down here by yourself, Macy,” he said, his eyes on her.

  Macy nodded. “I’m all for that.”

  Chapter 23

  At four o’clock Saturday morning, Macy’s eyes popped open. What was all that awful banging? Her heart skipped a beat and she sat up. Someone was at her door.

  Grabbing her robe, she was down the stairs in a moment. Through the peephole, she could see a police officer on her step, flashing blue lights from his parked car lighting up the nighttime blackness. She pulled open the door. “Yes, officer?”

  He removed the black ball cap he was wearing and showed her his I.D. “There’s been a break-in at your store, ma’am. The Chief would like for me to take you down there.”

  She nodded. “Give me a few minutes to dress.”

  ***

  “That would be him, ma’am. Do you recognize the boy?”

  Boy was right. He was nothing but a child. What were they thinking, arresting him? “No officer, I don’t know him. And why does he have on handcuffs?”

  “Just procedure, ma’am. He will be OK.”

  Macy glanced out at the street. She had called Scott, but told him not to come. She didn’t want him to wake Sammie. Still, she wished he was there. You’re starting to rely on him too much, she warned herself.

  ***

  The police station waiting room was cold and stark. It was definitely in need of a decorator. Just a picture or two hung up would help the space. She guessed the walls were painted Artic White, and the black trim reminded her of soot. She shivered and wished she had worn a warmer jacket. The bright lights hurt her eyes and every time someone opened the double glass doors, a blast of cold hit her face.

  She was still sitting there, teeth almost chattering, when the glass doors opened and Scott came inside. He was wearing old jeans, and a red flannel shirt. His blond hair was tangled and pushed up under one side of the blue ball cap on his head. He spotted her at once.

  “Where’s Sammie?” she asked, going to meet him.

  “I dropped her next door at Mrs. Miller’s house,” he said. “She’s like a grandmother to Sammie.”

  She swallowed. “Oh, Scott. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to come down here.”

  He shook his head and pushed the ball cap back from his forehead. “She’s fine. And I wanted to. You need me, Macy. At least I hope you do,” he grinned.

  She felt herself blush, then remembered why they were there. “I don’t know what they’re going to do to him, but that boy needs some help. I saw him. He’s just a kid. And he looked scared. I’m afraid they’re going to charge him for all that damage at Wally’s place. I know it wasn’t him.”

  He nodded and gave her a quick hug. “You just sit down and I’m going to talk to someone I know.”

  She went back to her cold chair and watched as Scott disappeared down a hallway to her left. The long narrow space, lit with fluorescent lights, made his blond hair look almost purple as he disappeared from sight. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that whatever Scott said to them would somehow work in favor for the young man in custody. He looks so young, Lord. Please comfort him.

  A few moments later, a young officer came from behind the desk with a cup of steaming coffee. “I thought you could use, it ma’am,” he said, handing the Styrofoam cup to her.

  Macy nodded. He looked as young as the boy they had arrested. Was his mother aware of what a dangerous job he had? She sighed. She must be getting old if even policemen seemed young. “Thank you very much. It’s a little cold out here.”

  He grinned. “If you’ll move over to that far corner,” he pointed, “there’s a heat vent. It’s quite a bit warmer.”

  “Thank you. I won’t waste any time in getting over there.”

  He laughed and went back to the front desk.

  She had finished half of her coffee when Scott returned and headed toward her.

  “Are they charging him,” she blurted, before he could speak.

  He nodded.

  Macy wanted to cry. “He looks like he’s about twelve years old,” she said, forcing her tongue against the roof of her mouth, lest she start sobbing.

  “Let’s sit down.” He took her coffee and put it on a side table, before taking her hands. He took a deep breath, his eyes locked with hers. “He’s not twelve. He’s seventeen. His name is Jordan Day. Seems his mom was about to be evicted from their apartment, so she ran off with her boyfriend a few weeks back. Didn’t leave the kid anything. He’s been sleeping in the back of that store. He picked the lock into your shop and took money to eat on. Fixing things when he was able to, to make up for taking the cash. A few months back, he signed up to join the army next spring, after he graduates from high school. He was just tryi
ng to hang on until then.” He paused. “They are suspicious that he might have been the one that broke into the leatherworks shop, but I’ve been talking to them. There weren’t any fingerprints, so they’re thinking he wore gloves.”

  Macy shook her head. “We’ve got to do something. We can’t let them charge him with causing all that damage. They’ve just got to know it wasn’t him.”

  He nodded and put his arm around her, pulling her back in the seat beside him. “We’re going to do our best to help him. I’ve already talked to Chief Roman, and she’s going to talk to the judge. We’ll get it worked out.”

  But would they? She was always hearing about the justice system gone wrong. Someone, a vandal and thief had broken into Wally’s business. Whoever that person was, he or she needed to be caught. But what Jordan needed was someone to care about him. She could still see him back in her store, when she’d first arrived with the officer. The boy’s dark eyes had been full of fear. She had wanted to rush over there and put her arms around him, assure him that everything would be all right. But, maybe it wasn’t going to be all right.

  “Chief Roman has already called Judge Waker, that heard most of the juvenile cases in the county. He has agreed to have a special hearing in the morning, since there are no more scheduled court dates until after the New Year. Until then, they’re going to keep him here. It’s only a few hours away, and Social Services is closed for the night.”

  “They’re going to keep him in a cell?”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand. “They’re going to let him sleep on the couch in the lounge. Someone will stay in there with him.”

  It was probably the best they could hope for. “So, tomorrow?” she said.

  “Ten o’clock. Now, let me take you home so you can change clothes. I’ll go home and change, and we can go to breakfast before the hearing.”

  Chapter 24

  Dixie’s made the best breakfast in town, but this morning it might as well have been sawdust. She swallowed her bite of scrambled eggs and reached for her coffee. She glanced at Scott. He hadn’t said much since they had started eating. Maybe he was just hungry.

  As if on cue, he looked at her. “I’ve been thinking.”

  She swallowed her coffee. “About what?”

  “The kid. I’m going to see if I can have custody of him until he graduates.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll let you. You have to go through some sort of state program. Classes.”

  He smiled. “Connie and I were foster parents in Kansas City. I’m hoping that might count.”

  Her eyes widened. “Yes. It really might. But….”

  He nodded and reached for his cup. “I know. They usually only let couples take the kids, unless it’s special circumstances.”

  She took a bite of her toast. Even Dixie’s famous muscadine jam was tasteless this morning.

  Scott set his cup on the table and cleared his throat. “You know. . . .” he frowned as his phone rang. He glanced at the number. “Mrs. Miller,” he explained. “Hello?”

  Macy waited. It seemed that Sammie and Mrs. Miller were at the Henson house and Sammie couldn’t find her favorite sweater. After a little debate, he talked the child into wearing a sweatshirt jacket. “Now, stay in the yard while you’re playing, OK?”

  He grinned and put the phone back in his pocket. “Kids.”

  She laughed. Whatever he had been going to say to her earlier seemed to have slipped his mind. She glanced at her watch and felt a tingle of fear. It was almost time to leave for the court house.

  ***

  Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor as they made their way across the large foyer. It seemed strange that the halls were all but empty, the office doors all closed and locked. There was usually so much activity in the building, people on their way to different areas, laugher and conversation.

  Scott pushed open the big swinging doors and they stepped inside the almost empty courtroom. Judge Waker was already seated in his place, his bald head shining in the glow of the overhead lights. She could see Jordan Day at one of the front tables, and seated next to him was a man that was probably a court appointed lawyer. A police officer was also seated at the table. The boy was wearing the old leather bomber jacket, despite the fact the room was warm.

  At the opposite table sat a woman that Macy assumed was from Social Services. The scowl on her middle-aged face indicated that she wasn’t too pleased to have to give up her Saturday to attend to business.

  They slipped into the second row of seats and made themselves comfortable. She smiled at Jordan when he stole a glance her way. He gave her a weak smile and turned his attention back to the judge, who seemed intent on reading the file in front of him.

  Judge Waker glanced at the clock on the wall, and reached for his gavel. He gave one tap on the desk in front of him and cleared his throat. He looked at the Social worker. “Are we ready to begin?”

  At that moment, the back door opened and everyone turned to see Bennie Roman, Christmas Creek’s Chief of Police, enter the room.

  Watching her enter, the Social Services worker nodded. “I believe that everyone is here, Your Honor.” She gave a curious glance at Macy and Scott, then turned back to the judge.

  Scott held Macy’s hand as all of the evidence was discussed. Bennie, sitting in the witness seat, mentioned that Macy had given a statement about the stolen money from her shop, then she gave all the details about the break-in at the leatherworks shop and the evidence that the police had found. She ended with telling about an officer spotting a light in back of the abandoned shop next to Macy’s store. He had then discovered that someone had been staying in the back of that building, and was, at that time, inside of The Stitchin’ Post. They had made the arrest inside of Macy’s store.

  When Bennie Roman was finished, the judge turned his attention to Jordan Day and his lawyer. “That’s a lot of evidence. What does your young client have to say for himself?”

  Macy watched as the lawyer, a young, dark-headed man, stood and straightened his suit jacket. Even from this distance, she could tell that he was nervous. Hopefully, this was not his first juvenile case.

  He cleared his throat. “Your Honor, my client does admit, after doing a lot of searching for a job, to living in the back of the abandoned store, in an effort to house himself, since he had been evicted from his mother’s apartment.

  “And he also admits to breaking into Miss Colbert’s shop, The Stitchin’ Post, and taking money for food. He did certain repairs in Miss Colbert’s shop in payment for taking the money. However, he pleads innocent to breaking and entering into the leatherworks shop.”

  He turned and looked at Macy. “I’m sure Miss Colbert will testify to the fact that Jordan Day never caused any sort of vandalism or harm to her shop.”

  The judge shook his head. “There won’t be any need for that, Mr. Rand. I have read the report. Chief Roman also agrees that it is unlikely the culprit in the leatherworks store was your client.” He closed the file. “And now, we come to the decision of what to do with you for the next few months, Mr. Day,” he said, his eyes on Jordan.

  Scott let go of her hand and stood. “Your Honor, may I speak?”

  The judge glanced at the papers in front of him. “Are you Scott Henson?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The judge re-opened the file and thumbed through the papers for a moment. Finally he stopped, and placed his index finger on a page. “According to the papers given to me by Chief Roman, you are inquiring about temporary custody of Jordan Day. Is that correct?”

  “Yes sir, I am. Only for the few months until he is eighteen.”

  Judge Waker folded his hands in front of him and rested them on the desk. “Please step forward.” He waited until Scott stood in front of him. “How do you know this young man?”

  After explaining the situation, and how he knew of him, Judge Waker considered his words. “I see. Do you understand that the court usually only grants custody to a
married couple, except in certain circumstances?”

  Scott cleared his throat. “I do know that, sir. And I think it might be possible that I could. . .remedy my situation. You see, I’m in love with Miss Colbert.” He stopped and turned toward her. “And I’d like to marry her. That is, if she’ll have me.”

  Macy, still seated, stared at him as he looked at her. He smiled and winked. Her heart pounded in her ears. He had mentioned her name. And marriage. But had she heard him right?

  The judge looked at her and cleared his throat. “Well, young woman? I’ve never had a proposal happen during one of my hearings, but I’m open to this young man’s suggestion. Will you marry him?”

  She stood, her legs trembling so much that she held on to the seat in front of her. “I. . .yes. Yes, I’ll marry him. I mean,” she turned to Scott. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  The judge shut the file once again. “I am going to give temporary custody to Scott Henson. There will be another hearing in January, after we resume the new session. For now, I suggest that we all go home and get ready for a wonderful Christmas week.” He grinned at Scott. “And I would suggest that you two go ahead and get married. I believe the court house will be open on Monday.”

  ***

  Macy adjusted the red and green Christmas bow in Sammie’s hair. Her daughter’s hair, she reminded herself, with a smile, as she re-arranged the sprigs of holly that intertwined in the ribbon.

  They were standing outside Judge Scully’s office, waiting for their appointment. In a little over ten minutes, she, Scott, Sammie, and Jordan, who had insisted on being present, would be standing in front of the judge, and Aunt Alta and Howie would be listening over the speaker on Scott’s phone. A white flocked Christmas tree near the door of the judge’s office, lights blinking on and off, kept them company as pretty ornaments caught flashes of light.