by T. E. Woods
Ronnie stopped in the middle of the snowy walk. “I’m doomed.”
“What?” Sydney shifted into alarm. “What’s wrong?”
“Syd, that’s the most perfect gift in all the world. How am I ever supposed to match that? And you know what? I have a hunch you would have thought about that kind of gift long before you were stinking rich. Only now you can afford the follow-through.”
Yeah. I have the money. But what does my family tree look like? Nancy and Joe Richardson. That’s it. And even that comes with an asterisk. Or whatever it is they do to make sure you know there’s no blood shared. It’s not a true leaf on that family tree. Only adoption papers.
“So, Horst is taken care of.” Ronnie continued walking. “How about Mr. Wonderful? What’s the gift for Clay?”
“That’s another stumper. I want to mark the occasion, for sure.”
“It’s your first Christmas, after all.”
Sydney flinched. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“First Christmas. That implies there’s more to come. We don’t know that. There’s no reason to add extra pressure.”
“You and Clay are six months in, right?”
“Pretty close.”
“Six months surpasses my longest relationship by about four. If you can do six months, you can do forever.”
“Stop it! Can’t it be enough we’re enjoying one another’s company?”
Ronnie shook her head. “How many nights do you sleep at his house? Say, in any given week.”
“I don’t know. Two maybe.”
“And how many mornings does he wake up in your high-rise?”
“Probably the same.”
“Sydney, you’re in a relationship. Whether you want to admit it or not, you care for him and it’s obvious he feels the same. Now put on your thinking cap and figure out what to get the man already.”
Sydney shifted the three shopping bags she carried and nodded to a restaurant. “Maybe we need a break. A little lunch to revive us. Move us into overdrive so we can make your cocktail date.”
“Now you’re talking.”
* * *
—
The restaurant was warm and intimate, with Christmas decorations giving it the air of a mountain lodge. Sydney ordered onion soup and a side of broccoli. Ronnie opted for a bacon cheeseburger with fries. They promised one another there’d be no discussion of gifts during the break. Instead, they chatted about work. Sydney relayed how proud she was of the staff at each of her restaurants.
“It’s an amazing thing. We’re booked solid for months at Hush Money. Roland has us catering at least two private parties a week since Thanksgiving. Yet there’s never a hitch. At least not one we can’t resolve quickly. Same with Ten-Ten.”
“Good for you. Wish I could say the same. I got ’em stacked up like planes coming into O’Hare. Four of my ladies are due by the end of the month. Probably another nine in January. The fertility side is hopping, too. It’s getting to be way too much. My front desk is complaining. Fortunately, Jan and Suzanne in billing are happy as can be.”
“If you could only find time to spend all that money you’re making. I thought you were going to look for a partner.”
“Changed my mind about that. I’ve worked too hard to build the clinic. I like having full control. But I’m interviewing for another staff physician. I’ve got three interviews set up before Christmas.”
“Anybody look good?”
“On paper they all do. We’ll see what happens when I see them face-to-face.” Ronnie’s attention was pulled to the front door. “Hey! Isn’t that Clay?” She hesitated. “No. Wait.”
Sydney followed her gaze. She saw a young man standing at the front stand, speaking to the hostess.
“That’s Steel. I told you he was a carbon copy of his dad.”
“You weren’t kidding! Do I get to meet him?”
Sydney stood and called out his name. When he saw her, she waved him over to their table.
“Hi, Syd!” Steel’s complexion was rosy from the cold. “Haven’t seen you in all of two days.” He turned toward Ronnie. “Sydney beat the socks off me and my dad the other night in three straight games of Hearts. I’m Steel, by the way.” He offered his hand to Ronnie.
“And I’m Veronica. Call me Ronnie. Best friends with the card shark here since you don’t even want to know. You here for lunch? Join us. We just put our order in. I’m sure the waitress can grab yours.”
“That’s nice. Thanks. But I’m meeting someone. You guys out Christmas shopping?”
“Indeed we are,” Sydney answered. “And if you have any thoughts about what to get your father, I’m all ears.”
Steel gave her a puzzled look. “I didn’t know you two were on gift-giving terms.”
Ronnie raised an eyebrow.
“It’s nice to remember friends during the holidays,” Sydney offered.
Steel’s nod suggested he was unconvinced. “He getting you something?”
Sydney felt like she had just fallen into a swollen river, flailing her arms to grab something that might keep her from being swept into the rapids. As always, Ronnie came to her rescue.
“That’s why they put wrapping on presents, kid. It’s all supposed to be a big surprise.”
“Steel!” The call came from across the room. All three of them turned. Sydney’s heart quickened. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d seen the woman, but Sydney recognized her instantly. She wore the same sweeping black coat. Her features were as delicate as Sydney remembered. Her eyes still blue as a glacier. And though most was tucked into a red beret, there was no mistaking the shimmering silver and gold of her hair.
Miranda made her way toward them. She reached out to pull Steel to her, kissing him first on one cheek, then the other. “Forgive me for my tardiness, darling. I’m still getting used to the town.” She smiled down at Sydney and Ronnie. “Are these friends of yours?” She touched a leather-gloved hand to her chest. “I’m Miranda Greer. Steel’s mother.”
“Mom! This is Sydney. Dad’s friend. You met her the night you got here.”
“I did?” Miranda looked uncertain.
“At Dad’s place. When you came in to surprise him.”
Miranda’s confusion seemed to clear. “Of course. You’re a customer from the Low Down. Charming place, isn’t it? Clay’s always had a fondness for music. We both have, actually. Perhaps that’s part of our attraction.” She turned back toward her son. “Remind me to tell you about the time Dad and I snuck backstage at a Garth Brooks concert. Your father will tell a completely different version, I’m certain. But mine is the correct one.” Her ripple of laughter suggested the story might have a secret unfit for an offspring’s ear. Miranda smiled toward Ronnie. “Are you one of Clay’s customers, too?”
“I’m more like a pal. Clay and I met through Sydney. In fact, we all shared Thanksgiving together. At Sydney’s home. Cozy.”
Sydney loved so many things about Ronnie; her fierce and loyal sense of protection chief among them. But this was an instance where she wished Ronnie would disregard the urge to play mama bear.
“It was a casual dinner,” Sydney explained. “Like Clay, I own a restaurant in town. Two, actually.”
“And the tavern keepers decided to share their Thanksgiving together,” Miranda said. “How lovely.” She shifted back to Steel. “You arrived too late in the day to join them, I suppose. It breaks my heart to think of you missing out on a good turkey meal.”
“No worries there. Syd hooked us up with plenty of leftovers.”
Sydney noticed the slightest shift in Miranda’s gracious smile. “Well, it was very kind of her to take pity on my two bachelors. Things will be different at Christmas.”
“Oh?” Ronnie asked.
Miranda’s radia
nt smile was back in full force. “Yes! A major feast is in the works. I’ve tasked this kid of mine to make a list of every single one of his favorite foods. And of course, I don’t need to be told Clay’s going to want prime rib…”
“And Yorkshire pudding,” Miranda and Steel said in unison.
“You’ll be sharing Christmas with Clay and Steel?” Ronnie asked after the mother-and-son laughter died down.
“Of course.” Miranda’s voice softened. “I’ve been away too long. I’ve missed too much. But I’m here now. I asked Steel what he wanted for Christmas, and he said that more than anything he’d like his parents to sit together and share the holiday meal. He insisted it was the one and only thing he wanted. So I promised.” She focused her attention on Sydney. “And I’m a woman who keeps her promises.”
“How long are you planning on staying in Madison?” Ronnie asked.
“My schedule’s open-ended. I have a project that will keep me here for several months. If things go the way I assume, I’ll be feeling at home here before you know it.”
“Mom, the hostess is waving. I think they have a table for us.”
“Then, by all means, let’s go sit down.” She smiled at Ronnie. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps our paths will cross again.” Miranda grabbed her son’s hand to lead him away before looking at the other woman seated there.
“Goodbye, Sydney.”
Chapter 8
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
“Miranda!” Denton J. Fulcraft rose from his chair. “Thanks for coming by today.”
“Anytime, Bishop.” Miranda settled herself into the chair facing his large glass desk. After so many visits, she felt comfortable enough to not wait for an invitation. “Alden said you wanted to see me. What’s up?”
“We haven’t spoken in a few weeks. Can I get you coffee? Perhaps a soft drink?” The bishop sat back down when Miranda declined. “I thought we’d catch up. How go things?”
“Same old, same old. Alden’s keeping me busy down at ImEx.”
“You’ve been there, what, four months now?”
Miranda smiled. “Time gettin’ away from you, Bishop? I’m comin’ up on six.”
Fulcraft shook his head in disbelief. “Time seems to be zooming past me as though it wore roller skates. Six months! Tell me how you’re finding the work with Alden.”
“I’m learnin’ a lot. Just like the two of you promised.”
“Alden started you in shipping.”
Miranda nodded. “Yep. I can pack a box full of spring bulbs so fast you’ll never bet against me. I’m not too bad at the loadin’ dock, neither. The forklifts can be downright fun to operate. I kind of miss it.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Alden figured I learned what I needed from the warehouse. I’ll tell you what, packin’ and unloadin’ is a great way to learn the inventory.”
“Sounds like Alden’s a fine teacher.”
A look of pride lit Miranda’s face. “Like the program says, Each One Teach One. Even old Alden had somethin’ to learn from yours truly.”
“And what’s that, my dear?”
“Like I told you, I know that warehouse cold. But everything was ordered alphabetically. And it didn’t take me long to see how much time it took to pull our Pink Lady roses off the shelves. Same thing for them Midnight Black tulips that come in from Holland. They’re like our biggest sellers and I was about to blow out a knee climbin’ the ladder each time I needed to put one away or grab another to send on to packin’. One night, back home after supper, I got to thinkin’ about ways to rearrange the stock so that it made more sense. Big sellers right at chest level. Slow movers up top. Not only that, but I checked the records and saw that items tend to ship together. You know, like people orderin’ the Pink Lady roses real often ask for the Candy Stripe daffodils, too. So, I ask myself, why not stock them close to one another? I drew the whole thing up, showed it to Alden, and he gives me the go-ahead to give my way a try. Took the crew most of a day to rearrange things, and everybody was grumblin’, but, boy howdy, did it work out! Orders were gettin’ filled in half the time. Stock comin’ in was easier to get out on the shelves.”
“You became the teacher!”
“I did. Alden was happy. Said I save him dollars every day by gettin’ stuff in and out faster. The crew liked it, too. ’Specially Brenda. She’s been at ImEx nigh on twenty years now. Always in the warehouse. Said her back and legs were about to give up the ghost. But my new way has her still on her feet at the end of the day. I figure Alden thought I learned all I could once I fixed the warehouse. That’s when he moved me over to billing.”
“Ah! So you’re in the office now, are you?”
“For the last six weeks or so. Do you know Val Dickenson?”
“I can’t say the name is ringing a bell.”
“She’s one of the lead gals in the office. Alden asked her to show me the ropes. I gotta be honest. I thought keepin’ track of the warehouse took some gettin’ used to. It ain’t nothin’ compared to keepin’ all the different customer accounts straight. Everybody pays different. Some on delivery, some in ten days. Alden gives a few of the older accounts thirty days. But I’m gettin’ the hang of it. So far I’ve been doin’ the customers in America. But Val seems to think I’m ready to start learnin’ the foreign accounts, too. Gonna start me on some of those next week.” Miranda shook her head. “I don’t mind sayin’ I’m more than a bit nervous about that. All those different kinds of money. Did you know that some countries’ money is worth more than ours?”
Denton Fulcraft smiled. “I’d heard that, yes.”
“Worth more than a United States of America greenback dollar! Don’t that beat all?”
“It does, indeed. I’m playing golf with Alden next month. I anticipate he’ll tell me you’ve rearranged the accounting department just like you’ve done to shipping. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. I’m certain Alden feels the same way.”
Miranda’s face reflected her sincerity. “You two have been very good to me. Means a lot to hear I’m earnin’ my keep.”
“Tell me how the living situation is working out.”
Her smile returned. “I know you’ve seen Alden’s house. What’s not to love? Did he tell you I thought it was a hotel the first time he took me there?”
The bishop laughed. “That’s mostly Lucy’s doing. I believe Alden York would be comfortable with a cot and a tent. His work is what pleases him. But Lucy has different ideas. I don’t think that woman’s met anything too large or too expensive. And Natalie’s just like her.”
“I heard her tell her dad one time that if he’s going to work so hard to make the money, the least she can do is help him spend it.”
“You’re in the guesthouse?”
“I am. It’s right by the pool. Even after all these months, sometimes I gotta pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreamin’.”
“Do you take your meals with the family?”
“Dinnertime, for sure. Breakfast is mostly Alden and me. We either grab something quick in the kitchen or we head on down to the diner. Lunch I usually eat with the gang at ImEx.”
“How do you and Natalie get along?”
“Fine enough, I guess. I don’t see much of her, what with me either workin’ or down in the guesthouse.”
“But at family dinners?” Fulcraft asked. “The two of you are less than two years apart. I would imagine you’d have become friends by now.”
Miranda’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s more to it than how many candles are on a birthday cake. Natalie and me are totally different. She don’t care much for workin’, and I can’t get enough of it. She likes the fashion magazines and Hollywood gossip. Who’s dating who down at their country club. Did you know she and Lucy go get their nails done every week? Every week!”
“When’s the l
ast time you had a manicure?”
Miranda looked down at her hands. “Ain’t never. Oh, I used to slop on some polish with a girlfriend back home if we were havin’ a sleepover or somethin’. But go pay money to have some stranger take a file to my nails? Can’t see that happenin’ ever.”
Fulcraft leaned forward. The light glowing from his desk lit him from below, carving his face with up-lit shadows. “I want you to get closer to Natalie. She has a lot she can teach you.”
“Natalie’s not worked a day in her life! What’s she gonna teach me? How to sip tea with the ladies at lunch?”
“Yes.” Fulcraft’s tone relayed his seriousness. “That’s exactly what she can teach you. Watch her. Let her show you how a lady of a certain station dresses. How a confident woman walks. Listen to her. Hear how a well-educated woman speaks. Learn where she shops. How she interacts with others.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “There’s more to business than what goes on down at the plant, Miranda. We make impressions on people. Good or bad. Part of learning how to take everything God wants you to have is knowing how to hold yourself.”
“You askin’ me to be different than who I am?”
“I’m asking you to be better. Learn how to take command of a room merely by walking into it. Convey your importance with the way you dress and speak. Learn how to talk about a variety of subjects. Very often it’s those attributes that win the day more effectively than knowing where the stock goes on the shelf or how to correctly bill a customer’s account. You can learn how to inspire others to follow your lead.”
Miranda looked down at the jeans and sweater she wore. Suddenly they seemed shabby. “What if I don’t want nobody to follow me?”
“That’s your defensiveness talking. You’ve taken my suggestion to learn from Natalie as an insult, even though that’s far from my intention. Of course you want people to follow you. Didn’t it feel good when you rearranged the stock in the warehouse? You got the entire crew to pull together for a day to make your plan come to life. That’s leadership. You have the ability, Miranda. I’m asking you to go a step farther and learn the role. Will you do that for me? For Alden?”
