Her Holiday Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Her throat convulsed, reading his meaning. Hearing his pledge. “And the second thing?”

  “I’d like three kids, but I could be talked into four. Under the right set of circumstances, of course.”

  Her smile started small and grew. She ducked her chin, picked up her filleting knife and growled. “This is how you court a girl, Max? Over a mess of fish and a sharp knife?”

  “Whatever works, Tina.” He grinned and got back to the fish, but not before winking at her. “Whatever works.”

  Chapter Seven

  Gone.

  Tina stared at the vacant lot the next morning, under a cold, leaden sky.

  The burned-out shell had been razed and carted away. The concrete deck remained, but the cute garage sale tables and chairs she’d bought, sanded and painted in bright shore-tones of blue, green and yellow had been toted off, as well.

  Regret hit her. She’d meant to keep them, to put them in storage, tuck them away. They’d been safe from the fire because they’d been out on the broad, concrete deck. They could have been spared destruction, but she hadn’t said anything to the work crew and now they were gone.

  Scorch marks marred the concrete, but the lot itself was scraped to the thick cement slab, the footprint of a building she’d loved.

  Emotion pushed her forward. The weather had turned seasonal again, with a sharp wind off Lake Erie. Yesterday’s transient warmth had been an anomaly, a flashback of Indian summer. Today?

  Reality set in. Her business was gone, the lot swept clean and the unseasonable warmth had been jack-knifed east by a Canadian clipper system that promised Thanksgiving snow.

  She pictured the jazzy, retro tables she’d stained and stenciled. The fun, mismatched chairs. The cool espresso machine, the bank of syrups. The double-sided deep sink, the rotating convection oven that baked sixteen pies at once. The five-seat counter, small but friendly, and the locals who used to frequent it throughout the year.

  “Hey.”

  Max’s voice hailed her.

  She turned, fighting the rise of sadness. She wasn’t generally overly emotional, but since the fire, it seemed like she couldn’t grab hold of her feelings. She didn’t like this new normal. It left her vulnerable, an emotion Tina abhorred. “Different, right?”

  His gaze appraised her, and his expression changed from wondering to “handle with care.”

  She made a face and dug her toe into the loose dirt alongside the scraped-clean slab. “I didn’t think it would affect me like this.”

  Max nodded.

  “I hated seeing it all burned-out, such a mess, but this seems so final.”

  “Only as final as you make it, Tina.”

  Redo? Restart? Begin again? Here?

  One look at Max said the idea was tempting. But she wasn’t about to jump into rash decisions, not ever again. She hauled in a breath and smiled when he held out a coffee. “I thought this might taste good.”

  “It’s morning and it’s coffee, so one-plus-one.” She paused and sipped, then smiled. “You made me a mocha?”

  “Mocha latte. And yes.” He slanted the lake a quick look, reminding her of their fishing excursion the previous day. “You’ve got hidden talents. So do I.”

  “It’s delightful.”

  “I agree,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the coffee cup when he said it.

  A slow blush curled up from somewhere around her toes, so she changed the subject. “I wanted to thank you for yesterday.” She turned and started walking toward the hardware store. “For using the fishing trip to keep me out of town while they worked here.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I got the girl for the whole afternoon, the first fishing trip I’ve had in years, and the makings of a great dinner. I was in the winner’s circle on all counts.”

  “You’re a thoughtful man, Max.”

  “I’ve improved in that department,” he corrected her. “And it took a while, but I’m educable, Tina. I do have a shot of bad news, though.”

  “Charlie?” Apprehensive, she turned quickly and banged square into his arm. He steadied her with his free hand...and then didn’t let go.

  “No, he’s holding his own.” He waved west of Main Street to Upper Lake Road with his other hand. “The company that was contracted to do the park lights backed out today.”

  “No.”

  His grim expression said yes. “They called the house phone this morning and left a message. I tried contacting them, but got no answer, so I called a guy in Buffalo to check it out. The company bellied-up this week.”

  “Max.” This was the kind of thing that could put the committee over the top. With less than a week to go before the Festival of Lights officially opened how could they possibly fix the situation? “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m not sure. The Christmas on Main Street part is all set between the town and the business owners. And the home-owners do their own thing around the lake to give us the circle of light. The living Nativity will be set up for the two weekends before Christmas, with people taking rotations for playing the parts of the family, angels and shepherds in the cold. But the park...” His dark expression said he understood what a huge loss that was to the town fund-raising. “The park drive-through is a big draw and a financial plus for the women’s shelter.”

  “There’s got to be someone else to hire.”

  “Not at this late date,” he reminded her. “And if this company dumped a bunch of contracts, then there are other places scrambling for services. I’ll check around today, but it doesn’t seem likely.”

  “I can’t imagine facing Georgia Palmeteer with this news.” Tina matched his frown. “She’ll eat us alive.”

  “We’ll keep it to ourselves while I check out other possibilities, but if I haven’t come up with something by tomorrow, we’ll have to inform the committee,” Max replied. “And my dad.”

  “Do you want me to tell them?”

  Max looped his arm around her shoulders, an arm that seemed to know she’d gotten chilled standing at the shore. “No, I’ll do it. But first I’m going to see if I can’t put some form of Plan B into action. It’s always better to deliver bad news with an alternative action plan in place.”

  “You learned that in the army.”

  He let go of her, opened the back door of the hardware store, unlocked the inner door and let her precede him as he laughed. “I learned that being Jenny Campbell’s son. When your mother’s nickname is ‘Hurricane Jenny’ you grow up realizing she’s a force to be reckoned with and act accordingly. Which means unconventional measures became a way of life.”

  She acknowledged the truth in his words. His mother had always been the “get ’er done” type the woman folks approached if they needed advice or something accomplished. And Jenny herself was handy with power tools and the softer side of home decor, so her expertise had helped people for decades.

  But how were they going to decorate a drive-through park with no Christmas lights?

  That posed a tough question with the annual festival looming.

  * * *

  “I asked Mrs. Thurgood to join us tonight,” Jenny whispered as Tina hooked her jacket that evening. “She’s not as strong as she was last year, and I thought an old-fashioned fish dinner might be nice for her.”

  “I’ll go sit with her,” Tina replied. “I miss our wise little chats when she’d come in for coffee.”

  She purposely hadn’t driven to the Campbell house with Max. If she let him drive, he’d have to take her home later, and no way was she setting herself up for more romantic moments. She had enough on her plate right now, didn’t she?

  I think Max is a pretty nice addition to that plate, her conscience scolded. You might want to think twice about holding him off. Remember that old window/door thing? When God
closes a door, somewhere He opens a window? Why can’t that be here? Now? Maybe Max is your destiny and you’re too stubborn to see it.

  Max was amazing, she admitted to herself as she crossed the room to see Mrs. Thurgood. But—life was confusing right now. And she didn’t do confusing all that well, it seemed.

  Because you can’t control the confusion, her conscience tweaked one more time. You like to set the rules, run the show.

  The truth in the reminder made her wince internally.

  Let go, and let God. Follow the path. Trust, Tina. That’s what it comes down to. Trust.

  She’d weigh her internal struggles later, after a night of Campbell fun, a night that might be Charlie Campbell’s last fresh-caught family fish fry. No way in the world would she let worry spoil that. She sank down next to Mrs. Thurgood, a sweet old gal who lived in a filled-to-the-brim house outside of town. She reached out and patted the elderly woman’s knee. “Mrs. Thurgood, how are you? I don’t get to see you all that often now.”

  The old woman gave her a hug, an embrace that seemed weaker than the last time she’d seen her. “I miss that café! It was like a home away from home, without the clutter, of course. To stop in there or mosey next door to the vintage store and see Carmen and Gianna, well, that just made my day,” she exclaimed. “But my driving days are over according to the DMV—though I can’t imagine staying cooped up in my place all winter, hoping for a ride to town.”

  It seemed life’s changes weren’t just surrounding Tina. Reading the look on the old woman’s face, Tina understood that Mrs. Thurgood was facing her own dragons of adjustment. But then Mrs. Thurgood blessed her with a bright smile and said, “I’m thinking of renting that apartment right below you, actually.”

  “Really?” Tina knew the first-floor tenants in her building had bought a place closer to Clearwater and were scheduled to move. “Mrs. Thurgood, I’d love it if we were neighbors.”

  “Me, too. It would be just the ticket, I think.” Her words said one thing. Her face said she hated the thought of moving. She looked up just then, and her face broke into a wide smile. “Max Campbell. Come give an old woman a hug!”

  Max did just that, and the gentle way he embraced their elderly friend showed the tough, rugged soldier’s big heart. “You look wonderful, Mrs. Thurgood.”

  “Oh, you!” She blushed in delight, and gripped his hands in hers. “It’s so nice to have you back, helping with everything. You are a blessing to your family, and this town, and I’m so glad you’re here, Max!”

  A slight grimace darkened Max’s face. Why? Tina wondered. Guilt over being away? Staying away?

  But then he smiled and squeezed Mrs. Thurgood’s hands gently. “It’s good to be home.”

  “Any luck?” Seth drew a chair up alongside the couch and kept his voice low as he addressed Max. “On the search for lights?”

  “No. There aren’t lights to beg, borrow or steal in a three-state radius unless we’re willing to pay retail and foot the bill.”

  “Georgia Palmeteer will eat you alive,” Seth told him, and in typical brother fashion, he sounded kind of excited about that idea.

  “What’s gone wrong?” Mrs. Thurgood grasped Max’s hand. “What’s got you worried about Georgia, Max? Maybe I can help.”

  Max sent her a rueful look. “Only if you’ve got a barn full of Christmas lights we can use for the park.”

  She perked up instantly. “As a matter of fact, I do!”

  Seth stared at her.

  So did Max.

  “You’ve got Christmas decorations, Mrs. Thurgood?” Tina broke the silence and leaned closer. “I’ll help you put them up in your new place if you’d like.”

  “Oh, no, no, dear, not like that, that’s not it at all,” the old woman exclaimed. “You know how I can never throw anything away?”

  Tina had heard stories about the packed clutter of the old woman’s home, but had never visited. “I’ve heard.”

  “Well, my husband and son had a thing for Christmas—they just loved it! We collected all sorts of fun things over the years, and George and Butch put everything they had into building great big displays. Once George passed away, Butch kept on buying, right up until he went to war. I didn’t have the heart to tell him no,” she confessed, “so the barn is chock full of outdoor Christmas decorations. Now, they’re kind of old-fashioned-looking, but I’m sure that barn is jam-packed with lots of fun stuff you can use in the park.”

  Tina looked at Max.

  Max returned the gaze.

  “If we use Mrs. Thurgood’s stash of Christmas lights—” Max began.

  “And have people donate any extra lights they may have—” Tina added.

  “We can use Dad’s emergency backup generators from the store.” He looked downright hopeful at the thought. “We might be able to do this, Tina.”

  “Come out to the house tomorrow,” Mrs. Thurgood urged him. “You can use anything you find. If George and Butch were here, they’d be glad I found a home for this stuff at long last.”

  Max gave her another hug. “I’ll do that. Seth, you free tomorrow?”

  “No, but Luke is, and there’s nothing he’d like better than to help you.”

  Luke made a face at Seth but shrugged assent as he drew closer. “Count me in as long as Rainey’s mother can watch the kids. I’ll give her a call.”

  “Can we do it first thing?” Tina wondered. “Before church, maybe? Because we’ve got to open the hardware store midday.”

  “Is there electric in the barn, Mrs. Thurgood? Does it have lights?” Max asked.

  She nodded. “Sure does, and far as I know they work fine. I haven’t been in there in a good many years,” she told them, “so there’s maybe the odd critter or two as well, but not too many with a tight roof and no food. Critters like food, so I make sure there’s none lying about. An old lady on her own can’t be too careful.”

  From what Tina had heard, careful didn’t apply in all aspects of Mrs. Thurgood’s life, but the eccentric old woman had been a constant support for Tina’s business. She’d shared recipes, insight and time, and her visits to the café had been a welcome respite. “Is 8:00 a.m. good?” She raised an eyebrow to Max.

  He nodded. “I’ll pick up Luke and meet you there. Mrs. Thurgood, you might have just saved Christmas for the town.”

  She brightened noticeably. “Well, good! And if Butch was still here, he’d be right alongside you, stringing lights and hanging holly. He loved Christmas so much.” She sat forward and aimed her gaze back to Max. “George and I just loved that boy, being our only child and all. When George passed on, it was just me and Butch, getting things done. I didn’t want him to join the service, but he had a mind of his own and then I lost him. I lost a part of me that day the army came calling, a part of me that cared about foolish stuff. I decided then and there I’d put folks first, and I’ve done it, too. My house might be in a sad state of repair, but my soul smiles at the name of Jesus.”

  Max held her hand. “I believe you.” He turned his attention toward the dining room. “Do you feel up to filling your own plate, or can I fill one for you?”

  “Since getting up isn’t as easy these days, I’d be obliged, Max Campbell, and I do love your mother’s tartar sauce with my fish.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Max went to get her food, and Tina bent closer. “You’re an amazing woman, Mrs. Thurgood.” She gave the older woman’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I wanted you to know that.”

  “Well, thank you, but I’m common enough,” she argued lightly. “I do prefer everyday people, though, Tina. The simple folks, the kind I run with. I look at my friend Charlie, there—” she jutted her chin across the wide room “—and I’m just plain sad to see him so ill at his age, but for myself, honey?” She reached a thin-skinned pale hand to Tina. “I won’t m
ind goin’ home when the time comes. Seeing my husband. Hugging Butch. It’s been a long time gone.”

  An old mother’s lament, but brave and true despite her eccentricities. Tina would miss her bright-eyed initiatives when God called the aging woman home. How blessed she’d been to know her and her quaint wisdom for so much of her life.

  * * *

  “Paydirt.”

  Luke nodded and sent Max a look of pure surprise the next morning. “It’s organized.”

  “It is that!” Mrs. Thurgood bustled into the sprawling barn after she’d grabbed a mismatched tangle of coat, boots and hat. “The barn wasn’t my domain, so I’ve left it alone. Butch had a nice little apartment over the garage, just the right size for someone on their own, and doing this Christmas stuff for folks was something he and his dad loved. If you look over there—” she pointed to a long group of shelves by the far door “—that’s where Butch kept most of the stuff. He had a love for electric from early on, and he took courses in high school at the cooperative place in Clearwater, so he had a fine hand with wiring. ’Course, things were simple back then, not all fancy-schmancy like they have now, but sometimes that simple stuff is more Christmasy than all the electric doodads they’ve got out today.”

  “Is that Rudolph?” Luke asked, looking up into the hay loft.

  “And all of his friends!” declared Mrs. Thurgood. “With Santa and his sleigh parked on that end.” She pointed left of center, and sure enough, Tina spotted a full-size wooden sleigh with a wooden Santa sitting front and center in plain sight, an amazing find.

  Max whistled.

  Tina grabbed Mrs. Thurgood’s arm when the older woman slipped on an uneven surface. “You really don’t mind us using this stuff?”

  “Mind?” Mrs. Thurgood snorted as if that was the silliest thing she’d ever heard. “Why should I mind? Butch would be sad to think his hard work sat gathering dust all these years. No, you guys load it up and use what you need. I can’t say we’ve got enough for the whole park, but we’ve got enough to make a difference.”