Providence

by Cocca, Lisa Colozza

  I watched Jeanie bounce back down the stairs and into her car. I wished I had her energy. I removed the jingle bells from the doorknob and hoped that nothing else would disturb Baby Girl’s nap this afternoon. She was back to her pattern of waking up every few hours in the night, so we both were sorely in need of sleep. After I laid Baby Girl down for her nap, I carried the car seat to the back room. I wasn’t sure about accepting such a generous gift. She was already helping us out by being here. She didn’t need to be giving up Chloe’s things for us.

  While Baby Girl napped, I rested my eyes. In my half sleep, I saw Jeanie dancing in the snow. I had never paid Jeanie’s age much mind, but at thirty she was closer to Mama’s age than mine. I couldn’t picture Mama dancing in the snow. Truth be told, I couldn’t picture Mama doing anything but housework and laundry. She was married by the time she was my age and had me less than a year later. She had run off with Daddy when she was seventeen to get away from her own daddy’s harsh temper. I never saw Mama’s family. I guess Mama was a castaway, too. Tears started to well up in my eyes and spill over. I wiped the sleep and tears from my eyes, and made Mama and myself a promise. That night I would dig out my notebook and pen and add Take Mama somewhere far away from the farm to my list.

  CHAPTER 26

  It was the first quiet afternoon since Thanksgiving, with only a handful of people wandering into the store. I decided to stay away from my thoughts by tending to the stock and doing some of my stitching. I wanted to be ready to go, without red eyes, whenever John arrived.

  I had just finished a piece when I looked up and caught sight of the news people Jeanie had told me about. They were making a beeline for the Second Hand Rose. I leapt up and raced to the door. I quickly locked the door and flipped the sign so it read Sorry, We’re Closed! Then I took Baby Girl and hid out in the back of the store. My insides churned while I listened to the banging on the front door. When the noise stopped, I peeked up the aisle.

  The crew had stopped banging on the door, but they hadn’t left. They were setting up the cameras right in front of the store. Baby Girl was losing patience with the whole situation and started fussing loudly. I ducked into the back room and opened a tin of cookies. I picked out a plain sugar one and broke off a tiny piece for her. I kept bribing her to be quiet with cookie bits until the news folks left. I knew that wasn’t a good thing to do, but desperate times and all. I couldn’t risk our faces being plastered on TV screens all over. Baby Girl had changed lots in the six months she had been on Earth, but one thing hadn’t changed. She still had that billowy cloud of red ringlets. That would be cause enough for someone to recognize a baby.

  Once the coast was clear, Baby Girl and I inched our way back up to the front of the store. I saw the news truck pull away from the curb and head down Main Street. Even though I saw them go with my own eyes, I still felt rattled. I was glad to see John’s truck pull up a half-hour before our regular closing time. I wanted to get far away from the store, just in case they came back.

  John buckled Georgia’s car seat into the passenger seat, thinking that was the safest place for her. This left the middle spot for me, and my close proximity to John caused my train of thought to derail.

  “Do you have a place in mind?” John asked.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Do you have a place in mind? A place to buy the tree.”

  “No,” I answered.

  “Let’s go to Knotty Pine Farm. They always have a good selection at a fair price,” John said.

  We rode out of town in silence. John’s hand brushed across my leg as he reached over to turn on the radio. A shiver rode my spine, and John asked, “Are you cold? I can turn the heat up.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  John started tapping on the steering wheel out of sync with the music. I wanted to say something, but was afraid once the first word came out the dam would be broken and the words would flood out of me nonstop. I was grateful when we turned off the main highway and rolled down the narrow road that cut through the trees. The darkness swallowed us whole as John wove the truck along the twists and turns.

  “Wow!” I said as we came around the last curl in the road. The North Pole couldn’t be more decorated than the Knotty Pine Farm was. The house and barn were covered with thousands of colored lights. Whatever land didn’t have trees sprouting out of it played host to blinking snowmen, reindeer, candles, and toy soldiers. In front of the barn, a huge star seemed to hang in the sky, and below it was a nativity. “Are those real people?” I asked.

  John smiled. “They’ve had a living nativity here since I was a little kid.”

  A woman, who looked like she had eaten more than her share of Christmas cookies over the years, was dressed like Mrs. Claus. She welcomed us to the farm and suggested we have a picture taken of Baby Girl and Santa before we hunted for our tree. I watched a couple of little ones burst into tears when they were placed on Santa’s lap. I was having second thoughts about this idea when the lady with the camera said, “Your turn.” She must have seen the worry in my face. “She’ll be fine,” the woman said. “If you’re worried then you can stay up there with her.”

  I took a deep breath and handed Georgia to Santa. She looked right at his face and laughed. I slowly backed away and waited for the camera click. As soon as the woman said, “Got it,” I hurried back to fetch Georgia. I was more worried about Santa than Baby Girl. Georgia had gotten ahold of his long white beard with both hands and was tugging with all her might.

  I found myself singing along with the Christmas music that was floating out of the speakers hidden along the paths. Our breath was forming little white clouds as it mixed with the night air. I pulled Georgia’s hood up over her hat and covered her hands with a pair of baby knee socks. I couldn’t keep mittens on her, so I took to carrying the socks with me. I would have taken the first tree we saw but John was pickier.

  “Where do you want to put the tree?” he asked.

  I knew exactly where I wanted it. “In the front parlor,” I said, “in front of the window.”

  “Then you need a tree that looks good from all sides,” he said. He circled every tree I stopped in front of, and pointed out its flaws. “Big gap in this one. Too thin. These branches can’t hold anything heavier than a feather.” Finally, he nodded his head. “You won’t find a better-looking tree than this one,” he said, letting out a whistle.

  I buckled Georgia into her seat while John tied down the tree in the back of the truck. I was glad I had bundled Georgia from head to toe. My thin coat was no match for the wind, and my hands stung from the cold. When John climbed in beside me, I was trying to rub away the pain in my hands.

  He cupped his hands over his mouth and gave a few strong puffs. Then he took my hands in his and started rubbing them. “Sorry this took so long,” he said. “I’m sure Rosie will approve of the tree, though.”

  “Rosie!” I said. “What time is it? I didn’t tell her we weren’t coming straight home today. She’ll be worried sick.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” John said. “I dropped something off for her before I picked you up. I told her that we had plans for after work and would pick up something for dinner on the way back.”

  We rode along in silence for a little while. Georgia had gotten accustomed to car travel with our trips to Lily’s and had stopped howling like a trapped animal whenever she was strapped into her seat. But unlike the silence on the way to the tree farm, this quiet had a kind of warmth to it—a coziness. I was replaying the words “we had plans” in my head for about the hundredth time when John pulled the truck off the road. We were in the parking lot of a restaurant located on the edge of town.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered ahead. I’ll run in and pick it up,” John said. He left the engine running and sprinted across the lot.

  I sat the rest of the way home with the heat from the bag of food burning its way through my jeans. I thought about all John had done for us that day, and started feeli
ng guilty about the drain on his time. “I didn’t realize you had chores to do for Rosie today,” I said. “And with a big exam to boot. I’m sorry I asked you about the tree.”

  “Like I said before, don’t worry about it,” John answered. “I’m glad you asked me.”

  Rosie was perched on the edge of the chair looking at the television when we got home. John had left the tree on the porch so we could eat before setting it up. When we walked in the house, Rosie started talking excitedly. “Watson’s Grove is on the news! Look! There’s the Second Hand Rose! Turn it up, Becky!”

  The woman I had seen banging on the door was talking into a microphone. “Well, Jim, it seems like this Becky is a little camera shy. What’s that? Yes, more of a Secret Santa. It seems like the whole town is keeping her secret, too. Everyone around here was quick to credit her with reigniting the town’s spirit, but no one was willing to part with any information about her personally. I think if the town wants to keep the secret, we should let them!”

  Rosie broke out in applause. John grinned and said, “Who knew I would be dining with a secret celebrity tonight?”

  John’s comment reminded me of the food I was still holding. I went to the kitchen and set out the food and dishes. The hot food warmed me from the inside out. It put me in a calmer state of being and made me look forward again to putting up the tree. When we finished, I piled the dishes in the sink and warned Rosie away from them. I changed Baby Girl into her sleeper, but knew putting her in her crib was pointless. Her car nap was going to push bedtime back for sure. Rosie put some Christmas records on and sat rocking back and forth to the music with Baby Girl on her lap. “Look at Georgia Rose,” she laughed. “This little girl is dancing already.”

  John and I stood in front of them, watching Baby Girl waving her arms and bouncing to the music. I couldn’t tell how much was Rosie and how much of the action was Baby Girl, but they made quite a team. When the song ended, Rosie said, “Didn’t I hear something about a tree a little earlier, John?”

  John carried in the tree, filling the house with the scent of pine. Under one arm, John had tucked a tree stand. I hadn’t noticed it in the truck and was grateful he had thought of it. I held the tree with one hand and turned to face Rosie. She looked like a child on Christmas morning. John crawled under the tree to put the trunk in the stand. “Is it too tall, Rosie?” he asked, from under the branches.

  “It’s perfect,” she said.

  “Can you hold it a minute longer, Becky, while I get this tightened?”

  “Yes,” I said, but as I was saying it I turned to face the tree and got a branch in my face. “Ouch,” I said, pulling back from the tree.

  The tree started falling forward, and John and I both grabbed it before it got completely away from us. “Sorry,” I said.

  It was unlikely John heard my apology, because Rosie was having herself a good old belly laugh and Baby Girl was joining in. “I’m sorry,” Rosie said. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s that you two remind me of my second husband and me, and our first Christmas together. Only we didn’t catch the tree. It went right through the front window. We had to return the gifts we bought each other to pay to replace the glass. It was a wonderful Christmas, though. It was so long ago.”

  Rosie sat quietly for a few minutes. When John climbed out from under the tree, she said, “Yes, it’s perfect. I’m a lucky woman.” She kissed Baby Girl’s nose. “How about some decorations?” she asked.

  John and I climbed into the attic and searched for the boxes. When we came back with everything, Rosie looked like she had gotten her second wind. She sat up in her chair and directed us to the right spot for each decoration. When we hung the last shiny ball on the tree, I stepped back to look. “Once again, you’re right, Rosie. This tree is perfect.”

  Rosie said, “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a beautiful tree.”

  “We still haven’t tried the lights,” John said. “Rosie, do you want to do the honors?”

  I took Baby Girl, and John helped Rosie out of the chair. “I plugged everything into here,” he said, handing her a switch. “One click and your tree will be lit.”

  Rosie looked at the switch in her hand. “You’re not trying to fry me, are you?” she said. “You’re not in my will, you know.”

  “Rosie!” I said. John just laughed. Rosie clicked the switch, and the tree sparkled with a spider web of colored lights. I looked at the naked bottom of the tree.

  “Our things are still in your truck,” I said. “Can I go get them?”

  “Becky, you’re not trying to chase away our company, are you? We haven’t had any of the Christmas cookies yet.”

  “No, of course not,” I said. “I made a skirt for the tree, and it’s in my bag in the truck.”

  Rosie returned to her chair and put her arms out for Georgia. John and I went to the truck to fetch my things. When we came back in, I pulled the skirt from my bag and crawled under the tree. I stood up and stepped back.

  “Now it’s perfect,” Rosie said.

  I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said. I dug back into my bag and pulled out a tiny package. “For you,” I said, handing the package to Rosie. I picked Georgia up, freeing Rosie’s hands for unwrapping.

  “It’s not even Christmas yet,” she said. “I should wait to open it.”

  “This is a pre-Christmas gift,” I said. “I want you to open it now.”

  Rosie removed the colored tissue paper. At first, she stared at the snowflake ornament in her hand. Then she passed a finger across the surface of the beads I had added to my stitches. Finally she pressed the ornament against her chest and spoke. “Becky,” she said. “This is the most precious gift any human has ever given me. Thank you.”

  She popped up out of her chair without any help. “I want to find the perfect place on the tree for this,” she said. “I want it right in sight when I’m sitting in my chair.”

  John tried to leave after the tree decorating was officially finished, but Rosie wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted he stay for cookies and tea. After I brought out the tray, I excused myself. I’d gotten a peek at the kitchen clock and knew that no matter how late a nap Baby Girl had taken, it was time for her to go to bed. It took some time to soothe her to sleep, so by the time I was ready to join Rosie and John, teatime was over.

  I stopped and looked myself over in the mirror before returning to the front parlor. I grabbed my hairbrush and quickly pulled it through my hair a few times before giving up and pulling my hair back with a ribbon. I had never worn makeup—Mama and Daddy wouldn’t allow it—but I was wishing I had a little something to put on my face at that moment. From my bedroom, I heard John wishing Rosie a good night. “The shutters on this side look a little loose,” he said. “I’ll come by tomorrow to fix them.”

  “You sure you don’t want to wait and say good night to Becky?” Rosie asked. “I’m sure she will be right out.”

  “I don’t want to overstay my welcome here,” John said. “Are you sure you can put up with me for a few more minutes?”

  I hightailed it out of the bedroom before Rosie could answer. I walked out to the porch with him. “Thank you again,” I said. “I couldn’t have done this for her on my own.”

  John tilted his head. “You worry too much,” he said. “Rosie’s done a lot for me. She stopped me from getting into some real trouble a few years back. I’m happy to be able to help her in any way. She is not a burden at all, and in case you haven’t noticed, I like spending time with you.”

  Then he bent down and kissed me. It was a soft, gentle kiss on the lips, and it caused all thoughts to leave my mind. John rubbed my arms and said, “It’s too cold to be out here without your coat. This is the coldest winter for as long as I can remember. You better get inside.”

  I nodded my head, but I wasn’t feeling a bit of cold. I watched John walk down the porch steps. As he drove away, I started to regain my senses. I thought about how shocked John would be to learn his had been my first real
kiss.

  I went back into the living room. Rosie wanted to sit in her chair and admire the tree a little more before bedtime. I went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. I stood in front of the sink, working and thinking. I wondered what kind of trouble John had been skirting with when he was younger. Realizing I was doing exactly what I wished other folks wouldn’t do to me, I gave myself a good mental scolding. Girl, don’t you go poking your nose in his business. If you want to keep your secrets, then you have to let him have his.

  I pushed John out of my mind and concentrated on Rosie. She was moving a lot slower these days, but her spirit tonight was as bright as the day I met her. Her granddaughter had never returned my call, and at that moment I was feeling foolish for making the call in the first place. For all I knew, Rosie may have been taking those pills forever. If she was sick, she would tell me. Mama always said I was the kind of girl who saw a tornado in every breeze.

  CHAPTER 27

  The next morning, I walked down Main Street like I had sacks of wet sheets tied to my ankles. My special order stitching was keeping me up later and later. On top of that, tree shopping must have been more excitement than Baby Girl could handle, because she’d been awake for more than half of the night. That, of course, meant I had been up more than half the night. I was starting to appreciate Mama’s need for me to tend to the little ones so much.

  I decided my first chore of the day would best be completed on my backside. I sat down and called customers to let them know their items were ready for pickup. Then I tried my best to concentrate on sorting some bills that needed Rosie’s attention. Instead, I found myself clock-watching and hoping Jeanie would arrive soon.

  Ten minutes before opening time, Jeanie arrived with the energy of a jackrabbit in spring. She placed two bottles of cola on the counter. “I don’t know if you drink regular or diet, so I brought one of each,” Jeanie said.