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The Christmas Town

Page 5

by Donna VanLiere


  “No way, Les!” a woman holding a five-pound bag of flour says. “I’ve waited in line this long and I intend to get my message!”

  “I can give you a message if that’s all you need,” the manager says.

  “We don’t want to hear your message,” an elderly woman says, winking at Ben.

  Lauren takes her place at the end of the line and watches as people interact with Ben. So many of them seem like part of his family. She imagines that some of them were there on the day he was born. Others came alongside and helped when doctors gave his parents a diagnosis that probably took their breath away. While some here resemble a grumpy uncle or distant aunt, others most likely have been there for every birthday, Thanksgiving feast, school program, scraped knee, broken heart, or belly laugh. Some may have picked up the phone in the middle of the night or showed up at the door holding a casserole. They have become his family, and Lauren realizes that after four years of standing behind a cash register, she still doesn’t know any of her customers’ names.

  She grabs a pack of gum and slides it in front of the cashier.

  “You’re back!” Ben says. She watches as he sorts through the notes in front of him. He nods his head and slips the note inside a grocery bag, along with the gum. “You’ve been here a lot lately!” The cashier is already ringing out the next customer as Lauren grabs her gum.

  There isn’t enough time and too many groceries to bag for Ben to ask her name. “Have a great day!”

  “You, too!” she says, walking away and pulling the note out to read it.

  Christmas means we get to unwrap something new. I hope it’s everything you wanted.

  Merry Christmas,

  Ben

  Lauren folds the note and puts it inside the pocket of her jeans and drives to Glory’s Place, a simple building one mile from the town square. Pulling into the parking lot she reads the sign:

  GLORY’S PLACE

  A Place of Help and Hope

  An older black woman with a kind face and broad smile greets her behind a desk. “You must be Lauren, right?” She stands up and steps to her. “I recognize you from your paperwork. Thanks for getting all of that to me ahead of time so we could run the background check. I’m Heddy!” She hugs Lauren and the sweet, soft scent of flowers remains on her coat. “Stacy said you were coming and we’re all very excited about the sing-a-thon!” She is leading Lauren beyond the desk into a large open room with a basketball hoop on one side, two Ping-Pong tables on the other, and areas that are set up with different games like corn hole, four-square, and jump rope. Tables are set up near shelves full of board games, books, and puzzles. There are at least twenty children who are either shooting hoops, playing Ping-Pong, jumping rope, or spread across the tables playing games. There are three adults playing with the children and Heddy points, while leading Lauren. “This is my husband, Dalton.” His smile is as broad as Heddy’s and Lauren notices the way a small girl, no older than five or six with huge brown eyes and long black hair, holds on to his leg. “This is Lauren. The young woman Gloria and Stacy told us about.”

  Dalton bends to pick up the little girl. “Boy, are we ever glad to see you! What an idea you’ve come up with!”

  “I hope it works,” Lauren says.

  “If we could get Cassondra out there singing then it is sure to work!” Dalton says, looking at the little girl. “Will you sing in the gazebo to help Glory’s Place?” She lays her head on Dalton’s shoulder and shakes it. “Well, if you don’t sing then we won’t be able to raise any money! We were counting on you to be one of our loudest singers.” He pokes a finger into her ribs and she squirms, grinning. “You won’t help us sing?” She shakes her head again and buries it in Dalton’s neck. He pats her back and Lauren notices the care he takes with her. He looks at Lauren. “Well, it’s up to you to unlock Cassondra’s beautiful voice!”

  The task feels overwhelming now but Lauren musters a smile. She steps over so she can see the little girl’s face and says, “My name’s Lauren. I love your shirt. I’m a big Pooh Bear fan, too, but I could never rock that shirt the way you do.” Cassondra smiles and Heddy directs Lauren to a door that says SHH, GENIUSES AT WORK above it.

  Lauren stops at the door and looks at all of the children playing. “Do any of them come from abusive homes?”

  “More than we probably know about.” Heddy shakes her head. “Some kids don’t exhibit the typical signs because they’re really good at hiding their feelings.” Lauren feels something catch in her throat as she watches the children and she turns away so Heddy can’t see her face. “Gloria is through here. This is where the children do their homework after school and where the tutoring takes place.”

  Children are seated at every other chair at three long tables, where they are working independently. Small cubicles are set up throughout the rest of the room for one-on-one tutoring. Gloria peeks her head around one of the cubicle walls when she hears the door close. “Lauren! You made it!” She jumps up and hugs Lauren to her. Several children look up from their work. “This is Lauren! The young woman I told you about who is going to be teaching you some songs for the sing-a-thon!”

  “I still don’t know what a sing-a-thon is,” a young boy around twelve says.

  Gloria turns and smiles at Lauren. “I’ve already explained it and apparently I have done a poor job so the floor is yours.”

  There have never been so many eyes on Lauren at one time and her back gets hot. She takes off her coat and holds it, feeling awkward in the silence.

  “So what is it?” the boy says again.

  “Well, Stacy and I will be teaching you some songs and you’ll sing them in the gazebo.”

  The boy slaps his pencil to the table and looks exasperated. “We know what singing means. What does ‘a-thon’ mean?”

  Lauren thinks for a moment and Gloria laughs. “The ‘a-thon’ part is like a marathon,” Lauren says. “You know, where people run for a long distance. We thought that you could sing all day in the gazebo to help raise money for Glory’s Place.”

  The young boy shakes his head as if something is rattling about in there. “All day? What if I have to pee?”

  “I know I’ll need to pee!” a little boy around eight says.

  “Do we just pee right there while we’re singing?” a little girl about six or seven says.

  Lauren glances at Gloria and Gloria opens her arms, laughing. “Welcome to Glory’s Place!”

  “We’ll rotate singers in and out all day, and if you need to pee then you’ll just leave your spot and go to the bathroom.”

  This sounds reasonable to the young boy and he nods. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty.”

  “I like your hair,” a little girl with fair skin and red hair says.

  “Thanks,” Lauren says.

  A boy with brown skin, huge brown eyes, and black hair that looks like it was buzzed impatiently, says, “Are you going to help us every day? We don’t sing around here so this could be pretty awful.”

  Gloria steps forward. “You will all do great! It is impossible for children to make a Christmas carol sound awful.”

  A little girl chewing on her pencil raises her hand. “Did you grow up here?”

  Gloria waves an arm in the air. “Everybody finish your homework in the next few minutes, then you’ll work with Lauren and Stacy and you can ask all the questions you want.” She leads Lauren back into the main room, chuckling. “I may have just set you up for some of the craziest questions you have ever heard!” They walk across the room and Gloria spreads her arms. “This space is nice and open and a good area to work with some of the kids on the songs.” She crosses her arms, looking at her. “Stacy will be here any minute. So while we wait … tell me about yourself.”

  From anybody else that may have sounded trite but Lauren can tell by the look on Gloria’s face that she can’t wait to know about her and her palms feel slippery. “There’s really not that much to me.”

  “‘There is more i
n you than you know.’ That’s from The Hobbit. Not me. I mean, I believe it and think it’s true. I just didn’t come up with that on my own. At least I think that’s how it goes. So…” She sits on a plastic chair and gestures for Lauren to sit on the other one. “How long have you lived here?”

  “I don’t live here. I live in Whitall.” She sits and holds her coat and bag on her lap.

  Gloria’s eyes are huge and she grabs her head. “What? I thought you … That’s an hour from here. Why didn’t you tell me when I asked for your help?”

  “Stacy tried to tell you but—”

  Gloria leaps to her feet. “I have done it again! Miriam says I am like a bull in a china shop. Oh, I hate it when she’s right! She will never let me live this down. And if I even tell her about the woman on the computer!” Lauren watches her and doesn’t know if she should laugh or be afraid. Gloria sits again. “I never should have assumed that you live here. I am so sorry, babe. You don’t have to feel obligated in any way.”

  She doesn’t know Gloria’s last name but it doesn’t matter. At this moment she would do anything for her. “I could have said no. I want to do this. It feels like some of these kids are probably me.” She feels tears in her eyes and hopes that Gloria doesn’t notice.

  Gloria reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “You are making this one of the most memorable Christmases for these kids and for me. I hope you know that’s true.”

  If tears came easily to Lauren she would cry now, but years of sucking it up and stuffing it down have made her a pro at this face she wears. But Gloria’s face, like Ben’s face and Stacy’s face, are so unlike hers. For some reason, their faces, their voices, have the power to make her want to believe.

  EIGHT

  Stacy arrived prepped with the lyrics to “Jingle Bells,” “Silent Night,” “Away in a Manger,” “Rudolph the RedNosed Reindeer,” “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” “O Holy Night,” and “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” but they’ve been unable to get through all of the songs with the children. Most of the time has been taken up with questions, giggling, and an unannounced contest of who could sing the loudest. Trevor won, hands down. True to her word, Cassondra will not sing. She sits on a chair where her legs dangle just above the floor and watches Lauren and Stacy with keen interest.

  Lauren bends down in front of her, pointing to her ear. “I can’t hear you.” She uses her palm to smack her ear. “There must be something wrong with my ears. Can you see anything in there?” Cassondra grins and shakes her head. “Oh, I see! You’re not singing!” She taps her on top of the head. “Would you sing for a dollar?” The little girl shakes her head. “Would you sing for a candy bar?” Cassondra grins but shakes her head. She whispers something and Lauren strains to hear. “What?”

  “Gummy bears.”

  Lauren laughs and finds herself pulling the birdlike tiny shoulders into her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Numbers dwindle as parents arrive to pick up their children. Lauren watches as each one leaves and notices that some run to a mom or dad while others hang their head and slump toward the door, heading for home.

  “That went better than I expected,” Stacy says, as the last two children bolt for their things.

  They pick up the song lyric sheets and stack the chairs as Lauren watches the children file out and into cars waiting for them. She notices one boy who isn’t wearing a coat but shrugs it off, assuming he forgot it at home.

  Miriam waves at her from the front door and Lauren pauses, unsure if she’s waving at her. “Lauren! Please hurry!” Lauren glances at Stacy and hands her the song lyrics. “Run! Please!” Miriam says, waving her arms. Lauren runs to her and Miriam grabs her arm. “Do you see that man getting out of that truck? That’s Travis Mabrey from parks and rec. Gloria called yesterday about the use of the gazebo on the eighteenth. As you can see, Gloria and Dalton and Heddy are all busy loading the children into cars and I’m unable to speak with him.”

  “Are you helping get the kids into cars?”

  Miriam sighs. “No. Unfortunately, Mr. Mabrey and I have an ugly past together.” Lauren looks at the young man walking across the parking lot heading toward Miriam. “Not in an unseemly way!” Travis opens the door and Miriam steps behind Lauren. “He and I should not face one another. Would you please take care of his questions?”

  Lauren looks to see if Stacy is near but she has slipped into another room and Miriam disappears into the office. “I’m looking for Gloria,” Travis says, approaching her. He looks twenty-something with sandy blond hair and a stocky build.

  “She’s out with the kids right now getting them in cars.”

  “I’m with the parks department. She called me yesterday but I haven’t had a chance to get back with her. I was driving by and thought I’d stop in.”

  “Yeah. She wanted to see if the gazebo could be used on the eighteenth for the fund-raiser.”

  “In the gazebo?”

  She nods. “We’re doing a sing-a-thon. They’re going to do the auction items like usual and would need to put out tables for those.”

  “Around the gazebo?”

  She doesn’t feel as if she’s answering well and talks faster. “Yeah. Auction items would go on top of the tables and people will bid on them. And she needs chairs placed around the gazebo in order for people to listen to the children singing.” He crosses his arms, thinking. “We hope to have the children singing throughout the day and raising money that way. So … is it available?”

  He looks down at his phone and taps the screen. “Actually, no. That’s the day of the Christmas parade. The chamber blocked that day off for the gazebo months ago.”

  “That means the sing-a-thon won’t work. And it was my idea! Miss Glory will be so disappointed.”

  “Why don’t you talk with Maria or Jessie at the chamber. They might not need the gazebo for the parade and I bet they’d love to see kids filling it up.” She smiles and he extends his hand. “I’m Travis Mabrey, by the way.”

  “Lauren Gabriel.”

  He slips his phone into his pocket. “Related to Victor Gabriel?”

  Lauren stops breathing and hopes there is color in her face. “Um, yeah. I mean, I’ve met him but I don’t know him.”

  “Distant family?”

  She nods. “Yeah. Just part of the family tree somewhere.” She concentrates on keeping her feet from moving. “How do you know him?”

  “He worked in the department for a couple of years.”

  “He’s not there anymore?”

  He shakes his head. “Left two and a half to three years ago, after he got the divorce. We were happy to see him go.”

  A wave of sadness sweeps over Lauren. For a moment she found herself hoping that her father was a man who carried his lunch to work and made jokes with his coworkers before jumping in his truck and doing his job of mowing, raking, weeding, or repairing playground equipment at parks around the city. For a moment she believed that he took his paycheck home and provided for a family that she didn’t know about and used that money for his son’s Little League jersey or his daughter’s tennis racket. For a moment she saw him holding hands with his wife or carrying his child atop his shoulders.

  “If you don’t really know him then you’ve probably never seen that side of Victor.”

  He’s looking at her but her throat feels full of cotton. Her breath is catching and she turns to look behind her. “I’m sorry. I have to help clean up.”

  He watches as she dashes across the floor, grabs her bag, and disappears through a door.

  * * *

  “So do you need any help tonight organizing for the sale?” Jessie asks Maria as she gathers her things at the end of the day.

  Maria laughs. “We have been moving things into the garage for the last week. I don’t have that much to sell. Hopefully between tonight and Saturday it will all be gone. Who knew a move across town could be so time-consuming?”

  On her way home from work Maria drops by Wilson�
��s Department Store, Betty’s Bakery, and City Auto Service to pick up the votes for grand marshal. The final stop is Clauson’s. She walks to the customer service counter and reaches inside the box she placed there a week earlier and pulls out a small handful of papers. She grabs a take-home pizza for a quick dinner tonight and decides that since Ben’s line is short that she will stand in it. “You’re coming to the Christmas parade, right, Ben?” she asks, opening her wallet.

  “If I have the day off I will! Christmas is our busiest time of year!”

  She watches as he puts the pizza into a bag and sifts through the notes in his hand. “I wish you could move to the other side of town so that I can keep getting these notes at Bixby’s Food and Pharmacy! You know that’s going to be so much closer to me.”

  Ben grins, looking sheepish. “I can mail you some.”

  The cashier and Maria laugh. “It just wouldn’t be the same without you putting it inside a grocery bag!” She reaches for the bag and says, “Because of you, Ben, I will never look at a grocery bag the same way again.” She pats his shoulder then digs for her car keys as she walks into the parking lot. After opening the car door, she places the bag on the passenger seat. She pulls out the note and then starts the car, letting the heater warm up as she reads Ben’s words.

  Christmas isn’t a parade or concert but a piece of home you keep in your heart wherever you go.

  Merry Christmas! Ben

  Maria smiles as she puts the car in reverse. “I’ll just have to make the drive across town for these.”

  * * *

  The offices of the Grandon Chamber of Commerce are just three blocks from Glory’s Place. Lauren wants to talk with Jessie or Maria before saying anything to Miss Glory about the gazebo mix-up.

  “Is Jessie or Maria available?” she asks a woman around fifty sitting behind a desk in the main office.

  “Maria left early today and Jessie is in a meeting. Can I help you with something?”

  “I’m helping out with the Glory’s Place fund-raiser and we wanted to do a sing-a-thon with the kids in the gazebo on the eighteenth, but parks and rec said you have the gazebo reserved that day.” Lauren watches the woman’s face for understanding but she isn’t revealing much. “I was just seeing if there’s any way that maybe Glory’s Place could use the gazebo … for at least part of the day.”

 

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