The Mistletoe Melody

by Jennifer Snow

  If only music lessons weren’t so expensive, she would have signed both boys up for them. She was struggling just to keep the equipment. She hated the idea of selling Patrick’s things, a few times in the past couple of years the idea had tempted her. She didn’t go out to the shed anymore. The sight evoked memories that were too much to take, longings that were too hard to face. But she couldn’t sell the equipment if Josh wanted to use it.

  Leaning forward, she opened the window. She shivered in the blast of cold air. “Come on, Josh. Time for school,” she called.

  A minute later, the kitchen door opened and Josh entered, leaving a trail of wet snow on the floor. “Here’s the mail, Mom.”

  She chose to ignore the mess and thank him for the gesture. Eight-year-old boys were oblivious to things like tracking mud or snow through the house. “Thanks, honey,” she said, accepting the stack and tossing it into a bin on the counter. She unrolled a sheet of paper towel and bent to wipe up the clumps of snow.

  “Aren’t you going to check the mail?” Josh asked.

  “I will later. We’re in a bit of a hurry now.” She didn’t need to look through the stack to know it held an overwhelming number of overdue notices. Besides, this was exam day, and she was trying her best not to let anything frazzle her.

  “But there might be something important in there,” Josh persisted.

  He was up to something. “You’re right. I should probably check it now.” Picking up the stack, she noticed a piece of blue construction paper sticking out of one corner. She pretended to flip through the rest. “Bills, bills...ah, what is this?” She shot a glance toward him, then pulled out the construction paper, which was folded like a greeting card. She read aloud, “‘Good luck, Mom.’” On the front was a drawing of a bouquet of flowers and on the inside the boys had signed their names.

  Josh’s smile reached from ear to ear. “David and I made it with Lauralee last week. We didn’t actually mail it,” he confessed.

  “Thank you, Josh. I love it.” She gave him a hug. She didn’t doubt the card had been his idea. Her boys may have been identical in appearance, but they had different personalities. Josh was more thoughtful than David, whose hardheadedness she knew he’d inherited from her. David kept his emotions to himself most of the time, while Josh was more like his father—open and kind. Tucking the card into her purse, she said, “Can you please go get that brother of yours? We’re going to be late.”

  She checked her watch, noticing the slight trembling of her hand. She didn’t feel nervous about the exam, though she suspected she must be, subconsciously. A lot was riding on this opportunity. She would feel much better about things once it was over. She was the only employee at the Brookhollow store who had completed the course, so she was confident the position would be hers if things went well today.

  Flipping through the rest of the mail only reinforced how much she needed this promotion. The envelope for her power bill was stamped with a huge red Final Notice. The overdue stamp on the cable-bill envelope was smaller—it would have to wait. The boys would lose their minds if the cable was shut off, but sleeping in a cold, dark house would have been far worse. Hopefully, she’d be able to catch up on the outstanding debt in the first half of the new year.

  As she placed a stack of flyers on the edge of the counter for recycling, another envelope fell to the floor. When she picked it up, her heart rate soared—it was from the Brookhollow Trust, her bank. It wasn’t her usual bank statement, which always came in a white envelope, or the mortgage bill, which came in a small tan one. This was a thick, heavy legal-size manila envelope.

  “Ready, Mom!” David announced, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen. He grabbed his backpack and tossed Josh’s to him.

  “Okay, take the keys and go get in the van. I’ll be right out. Don’t forget your hat and gloves.” She returned her attention to the envelope as the boys disappeared down the hall. She waited until she heard the front door close before she opened the mailing. She paused. Did she really need to read this now? Maybe she should wait until the evening. But if she didn’t, it would be on her mind all day, anyway.

  Inside was a copy of the mortgage and a statement summary showing the current balance and payment history. She swallowed hard. Six missed payments that year. Had it been that many? She’d expected two, maybe three, but six? She scanned the missed months. Yeah, six was correct. Money had been tight that year, especially with David needing glasses for school and the front window of the house needing replacing after Josh had thrown a baseball through it that summer.

  She turned to the last page, which was a letter from Jeff Thompson, the bank’s branch manager and a guy she’d gone to school with. Now their boys played together on the same hockey team. Her knees all but gave way beneath her as she read.

  Dear Ms. Myers,

  We regret to inform you that due to the arrears owing on your mortgage, we are obligated to ask for payment to bring your account up-to-date. If you are unable to settle the debt, we will be forced to foreclose on the property as of January 1...

  The letter continued, but that was all she needed to read. They were going to take her house? The room around her began to spin, and the little blue flowers on the outdated wallpaper she’d loved when they first moved in danced around her. She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the spinning. January 1 was less than a month away. Even with the promotion, she wasn’t sure if she could settle the debt that quickly. Thirty-two-hundred dollars just to bring the payments up-to-date. She folded the letter and slid everything back into the envelope, then hid it under the stack on the counter. She forced herself to take several deep breaths as the van’s horn sounded outside. The exam needed to be her only focus. She would figure this out. She always did. There was no way she was losing her family’s home.

  * * *

  THE STAFF LUNCHROOM in the back of the Play Hard Sports store served as the exam room. Melody and two other management trainees competing for the same position at the Newark store sat in the overheated room waiting to begin. Again, she was relieved there had been no one else interested in the position in the Brookhollow store. The whole process had been stressful enough, and she’d have hated to compete for the promotion. Staring at the closed booklet, she replayed over and over the things she’d studied. Heather had taught her to visualize charts and definitions in order to recall them more easily during the test, but today whenever she closed her eyes, all she saw was the notice from the bank. She forced all thoughts of that morning’s disturbing news away. The exam facilitator, a woman from head office, checked her watch and told them to begin.

  Melody opened the exam booklet and scanned the first section. She felt the tension in her shoulders begin to melt. Product knowledge—her strongest subject. Not only had she worked in the store for eight months, but she also had the advantage of growing up with two athletic brothers. Now her boys were playing on every sports team in town. Sports equipment was something she knew. She flew through the hundred multiple-choice questions quickly, never second-guessing her answers.

  The next section was tougher—questions about the principles of management—but as she skimmed them, images of the cue cards around her house popped into her mind. Thank you, Heather. Furiously, she scribbled detailed responses and even provided examples that weren’t required. Better to give too much in the way of an answer than not enough.

  As she turned to the last section an hour later, she felt her cell phone vibrate. She’d put the cell in her purse, which was sitting on the floor against the chair leg. Who was trying to reach her at twelve-thirty on a Monday afternoon? Everyone knew she was writing an exam at that time. She contemplated not reaching for it...but what if it was an emergency? When the boys weren’t with her, she liked to be available. Lowering her right hand, she slid the zipper open on the purse and glanced down to see the caller ID. Brookhollow Elementary. The boys’ school
never called unless they were sick or injured.

  “Um, excuse me,” she said to the exam moderator.

  “Yes?” The woman looked up from the home-and-garden magazine she was reading.

  The other two employees glanced up from their exams.

  “Sorry,” Melody said. “It’s my son’s school. Can I take it outside?” She held the vibrating phone.

  The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry, but if you leave the testing area, you can’t reenter.”

  “Well, can I answer it quickly here?”

  “No.”

  Melody stared at the vibrating phone. She was almost done the exam. Another hour at most. Could the call wait? The exam was too important to mess up, especially now, but family always came first. What was she supposed to do? If she left the exam, she wouldn’t get the promotion and the kids would suffer...but what if one of them were hurt? Damn it. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” She grabbed her purse and rushed from the room, dropping the unfinished exam on the facilitator’s desk as she passed. “Hello?” she said as the room door closed behind her.

  “Melody?”

  She recognized the school secretary’s voice. “Yes, Amy. Are the boys okay?” She pushed her purse strap up her arm as she rushed down the hockey stick aisle in the showroom toward the front doors.

  “It’s David.” The woman paused.

  If only I could reach through the phone and strangle this woman. “Is he hurt?”

  “No. He’s suspended.”

  Melody struggled to catch the phone as it slipped from her fingers. David was suspended? How was that possible? He was a good kid. Sure, he’d been going through a bit of a rebellious phase lately, but that was normal for a boy his age, wasn’t it? Brookhollow Elementary never suspended anyone. At least this was the first suspension she’d ever heard of. “Why?”

  “I’d rather tell you in person. Can you come to the school?”

  Did she have a choice? “Yes, of course. I’ll be there soon,” she said. She disconnected the call.

  Outside in the parking lot, she struggled with the stubborn handle on the minivan, her anxiety making her oblivious to the bitter cold whipping through her long-sleeved, ribbed shirt. She’d forgotten her winter coat in her haste to leave the exam room and answer her vibrating phone. “Come on,” she muttered, yanking the handle and steadying herself as the door flew open. Inside, her hand shook as she shoved the key in the ignition and reached for her seat belt. The strap wouldn’t budge, and glancing down, she saw it was trapped in the door. “Seriously?” Swinging the door open again, she freed the seat belt and slammed the door shut.

  She tore out of the parking lot. The tires spun on a snowy patch and she cringed. She really couldn’t put off getting those winter tires any longer. Maybe she needed to allow Bailey to do them for free. If the boys got hurt because of the useless vehicle, she would be devastated.

  As she drove, her mind reeled. Her son was suspended. Of all things. Of all days. What possibly could have happened that would have warranted a suspension. Lost in thought, she almost didn’t hear the wail of a police siren behind her. That couldn’t be for her...but a glance at the speedometer confirmed it was. She checked the rearview mirror, hit the brake slowly and pulled the van to the side of the road. She rolled down the window and waited, rubbing her arms for warmth. The van’s heater was useless.

  “In a rush?” her father asked, coming up to the open window a minute later.

  As the town police chief, her father took his job seriously. She just hoped he’d give her a break this time. A speeding ticket was the last thing she needed. “Hi, Dad. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention to the speed.”

  “A tip? That’s not the best response to offer a police officer who pulls you over for dangerous driving, Melody.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, shivering.

  “Where’s your coat?” He frowned.

  “I forgot it at work—I’m on my way to Brookhollow Elementary,” she said reluctantly. Her family members were always offering unsolicited advice on her life choices and the way she was raising the boys. They criticized her independence, claiming she should ask for help more often.

  Her father’s face changed in an instant from annoyed cop to worried grandfather. “The boys okay?”

  She hesitated. She hated to tell anyone, including her family, if one of the boys had done something that appeared to be less than perfect. In their eyes, it was a reflection of her lack of parenting skills. “David has been suspended.”

  “What did he do?”

  She stiffened. Without the details, she refused to judge her son’s actions as being right or wrong. “I don’t know, but I’m on my way there now, Dad.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t want her son to feel ganged up on. The boys were close to their Grandpa Bishop, and she knew they would hate to disappoint him. Besides, having the town’s squad car parked in front of the school would just cause panic. “No, thank you. I’ve got it under control.”

  “Okay,” he said, “but please slow down. You’re lucky it was me on patrol.”

  Who else would it have been? Her father’s partner had retired two years before, and he’d been the only law enforcer in the town since. Finding a new sheriff was proving to be difficult. “You’re the only one in town.”

  “For now,” he said, sounding noncommittal. “Anyway, slow down. I will give you a ticket next time.”

  He didn’t make idle threats. “Okay. Oh, and, Dad, don’t say anything about David...”

  “You know I won’t. If you need anything...” He shrugged and shook his head. “You still won’t call,” he finished. “Bye, darling.”

  “Bye, Dad.” Melody rolled up the window and waited until he was back in the squad car before pulling the van onto the road. She wished her family could understand her need to do things on her own. It was against their advice that she’d started dating Patrick...and then married him. They’d claimed that as a musician, he didn’t have a steady income. When she’d gotten pregnant with the boys, they’d questioned his commitment to his family, what with him being on the road almost every weekend. But she’d believed in him. In them.

  Pushing the thoughts away, she parked the van in the parents’-pickup-only parking near the front of the school. She jogged through the slushy puddles of melted snow and ice in her running shoes, toward the entrance. Inside, she stomped her feet on the mat before making her way to the principal’s office. Michael Thompson sat on the bench outside the door, an ice pack pressed to his eye. Oh, no, she thought as realization dawned on her. The two boys had been on the outs lately. She’d noticed the looks between them at hockey practice, and David hadn’t invited Michael to their house since the first week of school. Come to think of it, Michael hadn’t attended the boys’ birthday party last month, either. “Hi, Michael,” she said.

  He ignored her, simply turning his tear-stained cheeks away.

  Entering the principal’s office, she saw David, head in his hands, slumped over in a chair across from the secretary. His eyes met Melody’s and a look of sadness flickered in them momentarily before it was replaced with stubbornness and anger. She was taken aback—she’d never seen such a look on his young face before. But she was relieved to see he wasn’t hurt. Michael was much taller and heavier than David.

  Melody directed her gaze at the secretary, Amy. “So what’s going on?” She resolved to give David the benefit of the doubt. Let him explain what had happened between Michael and him. Her own parents had always treated their children fairly in disciplinary situations, and it was a practice she’d adopted with her own children.

  “Principal Andrews has ordered a two-day suspension for David,” Amy said as she stood and slid the paperwork toward Melody.

  Melody stared at h
er. “Why?” She could guess, but she wanted to know for sure.

  “Physical violence against a classmate. The school has a zero-tolerance policy.” Amy pointed to that section of the report.

  That was all it said. No explanation of what had transpired between the boys to cause the fight. “Do we know what happened?”

  Amy shook her head. “It was during lunchtime, and the teacher on duty arrived after it occurred. Principal Andrews questioned David a few minutes ago, but David refused to say what had provoked him.”

  Well, something clearly had. Neither of her children had ever demonstrated violent tendencies before. Not even in sports. “Is Principal Andrews available?” Melody refused to sign the suspension form without first receiving more information. A suspension stayed on the child’s permanent school record—it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

  “He’s with the Thompsons now. I can schedule you for tomorrow sometime,” she said, glancing at her calendar.

  Melody had to work the following day at Play Hard Sports, and after running out on the exam, she couldn’t ask for more time off. “That won’t work. I’ll have to call in the morning to set up a meeting later in the week.” Inwardly, she winced. Because of her busy work schedule, things like this were always being put off—important things, things that should be top of her priority list. But then where would eating and having a roof over their heads fall?

  “Okay. I’ll still need your signature on the suspension form, though.”

  “I’ll sign it once I speak to Principal Andrews.” She turned to David. “Let’s go.”

  David stood, pushing the chair roughly against the wall behind him.