by Leah Atwood
She didn’t know the answer, but she was determined to seek it out in her remaining weeks in Oak Hollow. As much as she loved her mother, and as glad as she was to see a good day at the store, she knew her life here was in the past.
She was only here to secure her mother’s future. Not her own.
Why then, did she tumble all night with dreams of a future with Michael? Not the dreams of years gone by, but new dreams. Dreams of the man he was today. Secure. Compassionate. Strong.
He hadn’t changed. That fact alone made her waking hours fill with questions about who she had become. Was she a better person than the young woman who’d left a mother who refused to see the value of her advice, putting her family business in peril? Was she more mature and aware than the woman who’d walked away because her boyfriend refused to commit?
If neither she nor Michael had changed, they would have the same problems they’d had in the past if she considered a future with him now.
Best to let those dreams disappear in the foggy mist of the past. Her life was in Atlanta. Only five more weeks, and she’d go back to it.
She hoped that, by working with Michael in the meantime, she could at least keep her mother’s dreams alive.
Chapter Four
At close of business on the first Saturday in December, Michael counted the receipts while Serena and her mother gathered their things and slipped on their coats to go home.
Denise watched him from her wheelchair. “Well, how is it? Did the big sale help?”
“Just a minute.” Michael wrote down the amount for the checks.
Serena told her mother, “I know a lot of the coupons from the newsletter came in. Do you remember if the people who used them bought expensive items?”
“A handful purchased trees, but most were for items under twenty-five dollars.”
Michael finished his tally and told them the total amount.
Denise’s shoulders sagged. “That’s not enough, is it?”
“Mom, we have to give it time. This is just the first week since we made changes.”
Michael agreed. “Let’s look on the bright side. People responded to the newsletter.”
“But that didn’t translate into a lot of sales.” Serena stood behind her mother. She let her worry show on her face, but Michael was the only one who could see it.
He wished there was something he could do to help. “I’ll check the online orders before we go.”
Serena shook her head. “I checked before I shut down the computer. Only two hundred dollars’ worth today. Mostly stockings to be personalized.”
“Well,” Denise said, “we’re going to have to pray harder. I know Jesus will provide for me in my old age.” She grinned at the two of them. “That is, if I ever get old. I’m not sure I’m going to keep counting my birthdays. I think I’ll just stay sixty for the rest of my years. And I hope to have a lot of them.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me.” Michael tucked the night deposit bag under his elbow and pushed her chair toward the exit. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep giving you presents.”
“Not one bit. Matter of fact, I expect it. Just nothing fancy. Maybe some new Christmas sweaters. I need them to wear to work.” She laughed. “I think they go on clearance in a few weeks. You ought to be able to get them real cheap.”
Michael helped Denise into Serena’s car and put her wheelchair in the back of his truck.
Serena closed the passenger door to protect her mother from the winter chill. “You can try to put that in my trunk. I hate to put you to the trouble of coming by the house every day.”
She still didn’t know he was only a few houses down the street from her. “It’s not out of my way, Serena.”
“But your house is on the other side of town.” She pointed in the direction of his childhood home.
“I moved out of my parents’ house after college.”
“Of course, you did. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She looked over her shoulder at her mom. “Thank you for helping with her recovery. It’s kept her spirits up.”
Denise sat with her head leaned against the headrest and her eyes closed. “She’s going to make a full recovery. You’ll see. It’ll just take time.”
“I wish I could say the same about All Things Christmas.” Sadness weighed her voice down.
“You and your mom are right. We need to pray and give it more time. Speaking of which,” he put his key in the lock and opened his truck door, “will you be joining us in church tomorrow morning? Your mom told me she’s ready to go back.”
“I’ll try. It depends on how much I get done tonight.”
“You can’t work all the time. It’s not healthy.”
She smothered a sad laugh. “You’ve heard that Bible verse about having your ox in the ditch. That’s what this is. My mother’s livelihood depends on my efforts right now. I’m sure the Lord understands that.”
Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand. As soon as he touched her he knew the love he’d had for her would never die. He’d buried it, but being around her again had brought it surging to the surface. His love was a powerful force denying any hindrance.
It’s what caused him the pain he felt as he watched her suffer and grieve over the possibility of her father’s store closing.
He squeezed her hand and was pleased when she didn’t pull away. “There’s another verse that tells us to come to Jesus when we’re burdened, and He will give us rest.” He leaned close to her. “Please come.”
The breeze swirled between and around them, but it couldn’t cool the sudden electricity that burned between them. Since she’d come home, they’d been like magnets turned the wrong way, pushing each other apart even as a force tried to bring them together.
Her eyes grew brighter, and he knew she felt it, too.
“Okay. I’ll come.”
“Good.” He lifted her hand and placed it to his lips. He only allowed himself a small kiss where her fingers wrapped around his. Reluctant to wait for her response, he said, “Let’s get you and your mother out of this weather. We sure don’t need anyone getting sick during the busy season.”
* * *
“Good morning, ladies.” Michael took over the wheelchair from Serena. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day? Not as cold as last night, but with just a hint of hope in the air.”
He’d greeted them both, but his eyes never left Serena. Her small smile and slight blush let him know she was thinking about last night, just like he was. Would she be open to his love if he offered it?
Denise took a deep breath and agreed. “This is the day the Lord made. I’m glad to be in it.”
The services were all he’d grown to expect in December. The choir sang Christmas carols, and the congregation sang along. The atmosphere was full of joy and expectation. Even the children had a part in the service that morning. Sweet little ones holding posters with Bible verses and reciting parts of the Christmas story had the parents laughing through tears. One little girl stood out front in an angel costume, singing louder than all the others and having the time of her life.
He turned to Serena when she leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Look at her! Isn’t she adorable?”
“Yes.” He whispered back, not seeing the little girl. “She is.”
Serena lifted her gaze to his. He saw the moment she realized he was talking about her. The song ended, and everyone stood to applaud the efforts of the children. He and Serena joined them, while Denise sat on his other side in her wheelchair and clapped along.
When they sat back down, he made sure Denise was okay and turned back to listen to the pastor’s message. His surprise when Serena slipped her hand in his caused him to say a silent prayer of thanks. He’d asked God the night before to let Serena care for him if his heart was right in loving her. For her to reach out to him was all the evidence he needed. She’d always been honest. She wouldn’t toy with affections that weren’t real.
The next hurdle would be saving Al
l Things Christmas. For the sake of all of them. He knew Serena would only stay in Oak Hollow if she could make a difference in her mother’s life.
And he couldn’t leave Denise alone. That’s why he hadn’t gone after Serena five years ago. Her father had asked him to look after both of his girls when he was gone. The only way Michael knew to fulfill that promise was to take care of Denise. The security of her future would lead to the security of Serena’s. He’d believed that from the beginning.
Now to convince Serena.
* * *
Serena stood at the window of the craft room and watched her mother paint a snowman. This one wasn’t like the ones she’d painted when Serena was a little girl. This one looked like he was made of giant marshmallows. It was, in fact, a snow girl. Instead of a hat, she wore a tiara. Her buttons were shiny jewels, and she carried a pink scepter. The grin made of red licorice made the picture perfect.
She hoped painting would lift her mother’s spirits. In the ten days since their first coupon and newsletter sale, no major improvements had come in sales or traffic. It was hard to stay positive in the face of decline. Her mother and Michael had been so close to the situation that the gradual changes had gone unnoticed. Serena had the dubious advantage of seeing the change after five years.
There were only two positive changes. Her mother was in a new cast which meant the wheelchair was gone. The other change was her relationship with Michael. After he’d kissed her hand she’d admitted to herself how much she missed him. He’d always been the one she loved. No one she’d dated in Atlanta had intrigued her in the least. No one compared. That’s why she’d given up on dating.
It’s also why she was beginning to wonder if he’d be willing to relocate to Atlanta if the store closed. She’d take her mother with her. Would he come, too?
It was too early to suggest it to either of them, but the facts at the store were piling up. She wouldn’t wait until All Things Christmas started to siphon off her mother’s retirement savings. A dead dream could kill the future. It was best to let it go and get out before the damage was insurmountable.
“I wish I could paint that.” A small voice came from beside Serena. It was the little girl from the children’s choir two Sundays ago.
Serena loved the way her hair was braided in the fashion of the latest cartoon princess. “Do you like to paint?”
“I do. But Mama won’t let me paint at home. She says I’m messy.” The little blonde pointed at Serena’s mother. “My table looks like hers when I paint. It’s not messy. It’s just what painters do.”
Serena tried to hold back her smile. “How old are you?”
“I’ll be five on my birthday.” She held up fingers to emphasize the number. “It’s not tomorrow, but the next tomorrow.”
A young lady with hair just like the little girl walked up. “Cadence, are you talking too much to this nice lady?”
“No, ma’am. I’m just tellin’ her how you won’t let me paint.” She pointed again at the painting behind the glass. “I never saw a snow princess before. But look, she gots a crown and everything.”
The mother leaned over to her daughter’s eye level. “That’s very pretty, isn’t it?”
“I wanna do it.”
“Honey, there’s nowhere in Oak Hollow that lets kids paint like that. Maybe next year when you go to school.”
“I wanna paint now.” Her little bottom lip poked out a bit, and her mother admonished her to be sweet or they’d have to leave the store. The girl drew in her lip and took a step closer to the window. “I’ll be good. I’ll stay right here and watch.”
“Hi, I’m Serena. My mother owns the store.” She pointed out her mother. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
“If you could find a place for her to paint, you’d make her the happiest birthday girl ever. It’s hard to find something unique during the Christmas season. December babies get lost in the chaos. I try to make it special, but it isn’t easy. I do let her paint at home, but she wants to have her friends from church over to paint. There is no way I’m prepared for what that mess would look like.”
“So you need somewhere to take her, and her friends, for a couple of hours to paint and open presents and eat cake?”
“Yes. I’ve told her we can have a party in the summer. They can all paint outside where nothing will be ruined. She says it’s not the same because her birthday won’t be in summer.” The young woman laughed. “I guess the pool party she went to for a friend convinced her that birthday parties should be seasonal, too.”
“Will you excuse me for a moment?” Serena motioned for Michael to join her in the craft room.
“Mom, I need to talk to you.”
Her mother put her brush down. “What is it, dear?”
Serena pointed at the little girl. “Don’t stop painting. She’s watching your every move.”
Her mom waved at the girl and picked up her brush. She added the outline of a bush shaped like a small Christmas tree beside the snow girl.
Michael waved, too. “That’s Emily and her mother, from church.”
“Don’t think I’m crazy. Hear me out.” Serena held her hands out, palms up. “Emily may have just inspired me with another way to improve profits and help our customers.”
“Really? She’s cute and all, but I don’t see her as a marketing specialist,” Michael teased her.
“Aren’t customers the best marketing specialists? They know what they want, and when we listen, they bring in the business.”
“What does Emily want?” Her mother filled in the bush with green paint. She used hand motions to see what Emily thought of her work. The little girl gave a thumbs up and laughed.
“Emily wants to paint.”
“Good for her. It’s important for kids to experiment with creative outlets. It helps them discover their talents. Watching how kids react to our merchandise is one of my favorite things about this store.” Her mom put a yellow sun in the sky of her painting.
“Emily wants to have a painting party for her birthday. Two days from now. She also wants a painting like the one you’re doing. She wants all her friends to paint together.”
Michael shrugged. “That sounds like fun, but we don’t sell painting supplies. We sell finished products.”
Serena was getting excited. This could be big. The more she thought about it, the faster her mind raced. “We could host the party. Here.” She used both hands to point at the floor. “In this room.” In a flurry of excitement she showed them her vision for setting up tables where the little girls could work. “And a table in that corner with a cake and fruit drinks. We could get little smocks so their clothes won’t get paint on them.”
Her mom put her brush down again and pivoted in her chair. “You mean like those parties I saw on the internet when I was looking at modern Christmas decorations?”
“Yes!”
“But those were adults, Serena. Kids would be more difficult to work with. The paintings would have to be simple.”
Serena nodded at the snow girl. “Like that one? Couldn’t you modify it a bit and sit at the head of the table,” she showed where she’d put her mother’s easel, “so the kids could copy your work. You could paint with them. They’d be mimicking you and creating their own version of your snow girl.”
Her mother agreed. “That would be fun.”
Michael wasn’t convinced. “How does one birthday party for little girls save the store?”
“It wouldn’t be just one party. It would be the first party. We could offer parties for different seasons and ages of customers. For kids, it would be simple stuff. For the adults we could get a bit fancier. Flowers in spring, hearts for Valentine’s Day, owls and pumpkins in the fall.”
“So this would be for women mostly?” Michael was starting to see some potential in her idea. She could see him thinking about it.
“We can work on that. Maybe do something around Mother’s Day or Christmas to invite fathers to bring in their kids and m
ake some kind of handprint keepsake for moms.” Serena’s mind was in full gear. She grabbed a piece of her mom’s art paper and a colored pencil to make notes. She dropped into a chair. “Tea parties where the ladies paint mugs, and bridesmaids’ parties, Mother’s Day.”
“Whoa!” Michael laughed at her. “Don’t you think you should tell Emily now? The poor child is wondering what in the world made your mother stop painting.”
“Yes!” Serena jumped up and went to talk to Emily and her mother. Emily’s squeal of delight let her know it was the right idea. If it didn’t save All Things Christmas, it would at least save Emily’s fifth birthday.
After an afternoon of notes and lists, Serena sent Michael to buy art supplies with her mother. She closed up shop and started sorting through the craft room to make it safe for customers, especially children, to enter.
The jingle bells on the door rang out, and she looked up at the clock. Two hours had passed since she’d locked the front door. Hunger pangs confirmed the lateness of the hour. She’d have to finish tomorrow. Her mother needed her at home.
Michael came into the room with two bags of take-out and drinks. “Ready to eat?”
“I’d love to, but I need to get home and help Mom.”
He put the bags on the table where they ate lunch. “Edna is with your mom. I convinced her to stay overnight. They were watching some old actors dance on television when I left them.”
“Aren’t you smart?” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
His surprise was as keen as hers. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. I was just so relieved.”
He pulled the puppy face he’d mastered in grade school. “Are you really sorry?” He put his hands on her arms. “I’m not.”
“What I mean is,” she stumbled for the next words.
“You mean you were surprised? You mean you aren’t sure where we’re headed?” He tilted his head so he was looking straight into her eyes.
Would he see her heart? Was it time to let him?
