by JoAnn Durgin
“Don’t dig too deep,” Jake said. He didn’t need an armchair psychologist, and he wasn’t getting into this discussion. Not now, and maybe never. Ignoring his best friend’s knowing glance, he left the room without another word.
****
Julia worked with Hannah at the senior citizens’ Christmas luncheon, singing and humming along with the carols and hymns as they delivered plates of steaming food. Gifts for the exchange were arranged beneath the center’s Christmas tree. Holiday lights were strung around the cafeteria, and festive centerpieces adorned the middle of each table. The older gentleman playing the piano winked at Julia every time she passed him, and then he’d stumble over the next stanza.
“Someone’s got a little crush on the new girl,” Hannah whispered with a wink, swooping by with more plates. Her past experience as a waitress was evident as she balanced four plates, one in each hand and on both forearms. A beehive of activity, she was quite the sight considering how close her due date loomed.
“Everyone’s been served now,” the director of the center told them a few minutes later. “Grab a plate of food,” she said with an obvious nod at Hannah’s belly, “and take a breather until it’s time for dessert, ladies. Thanks for volunteering.”
They sat at a table with four other women, all residents of the center. Julia attempted conversation, but two seemed hard of hearing, and the others appeared to suffer from advanced dementia. Her heart ached with sadness. Vibrant souls with stories of family, love, and loss lay hidden deep inside these women.
“So, how’s that fiancé of yours? He sure must miss you while you’re here,” Hannah said, taking a bite of green beans.
A stab of guilt shot through Julia, and she busied herself cutting her turkey. She hadn’t broached the subject with Dylan yet, and now it was her sister-in-law’s turn. After dinner tonight would be as good a time as any to make her confession. “Why do you ask?”
Hannah chewed her roll before answering. “Well, I should think it’s a perfectly normal question. You never talk about him, which is pretty interesting. And, while I’m at it, maybe I could point out how I don’t even know his name, and you aren’t sporting a blinding diamond anywhere on your fringer.”
“Fringer?” Julia allowed a small grin as she sampled her mashed potatoes.
“Finger plus ring equals fringer. Our minister said it by mistake at a wedding a few years ago, and it stuck. Call us juvenile, but Dylan and I thought it was cute. Don’t change the subject.”
Julia raised her hands in protest. “Couldn’t if I tried.” When Hannah gave a pointed look at her bare ring fringer—finger—Julia lowered her hands to her lap.
“Our firefighter friend Jake sure seemed taken with you the other night.”
“Oh?” Try as she might, Julia couldn’t keep her tone as nonchalant as she’d hoped.
“Can you be a love and pass that pitcher of gravy to me?” This time, her sister-in-law didn’t glance her way as she concentrated on cutting her turkey.
Julia’s hands proved just as shaky when she passed the gravy boat. Knowing Hannah, this thread of conversation might be a test—one she failed miserably. Or passed, depending on the criteria.
“Thanks. I was afraid you were going to tip it over for a second there. Julia, you know how when a woman’s pregnant, her senses are heightened?”
“Yes, I’ve heard that can happen.” Julia wondered where Hannah was headed with this discussion. Julia loved her fiercely; her sister-in-law had been one of her closest friends since Hannah and Dylan started dating in high school. Hannah’s childhood had been a little rough, but she was passionate, loyal, and a straight-shooter. She’d also just now managed to disarm Julia with those very same qualities.
“Well, I’m not blind, and I can certainly see when my husband’s best friend is smitten with my gorgeous sister-in-law, as well he should be. Oh, give it up already, Julia. I saw you staring at him at Regency Hall. If ever I’ve seen longing, that was it.”
“But—”
“Dylan told me how you practically took a flying leap out of the car to talk with Jake outside his house.” Ignoring Julia’s protest, Hannah plowed on. “In this weather, the only reason a woman would do that is if she’s got something personal at stake. Am I right?”
Julia avoided Hannah’s probing gaze and focused on adding more sweetener to her tea, needing to keep her hands occupied. “I felt really bad for him, that’s all. His ex-girlfriend threw him for a loop, showing up out of the blue like she did.”
“Don’t you worry about Jake. He can take care of himself. So, you like him, right?”
“Of course I do, Hannah. What’s not to like? For one thing, he’s a great friend to Dylan, and he’s got a kind heart. Jake’s wonderful with kids and…well, everyone in Starlight, from all appearances.”
Hannah took a long sip of her lemonade. “Right. Here’s a novel thought: maybe you should confess to Jake you actually don’t have a man waiting for you back in Cedar Rapids. That would sure speed up this whole romance between you two.” She didn’t miss a beat as she continued eating. “Once you get it out in the open, a little thing like a fake fiancé won’t stop Jake Marston, after he gets over the initial shock, of course.”
Water almost spouted from Julia’s nose as she slapped her napkin over her face.
Hannah was nothing if not relentless, and perhaps even bolder than Dylan. “The way I see it, Jake’s only flaw is he doesn’t know how to talk to a woman he’s interested in romantically. He says the first thing that comes into his mind with comical results sometimes. Sure, give him a little girl or a senior citizen, and he charms them all.” She smirked. “OK, I’ll admit that didn’t sound right—and maybe Jake’s not the only one with an articulation problem—but you know what I mean, Julia. Trust me. The guy has a heart of gold. He repairs over a hundred toys every year, spearheads a fundraising drive every fall for autism awareness and runs a marathon for cancer research every spring in honor of his Aunt Bonnie. She’s been fighting breast cancer for a couple of years, but they caught it early, and she’s winning the battle, thank the Lord.”
Julia put her hand on Hannah’s arm to stop her Jake-is-so-wonderful campaign. “I can see he’s terrific and bordering on perfect, so you don’t need to sell me on the guy. Why are you telling me all this?”
“Here’s the thing: in my own misguided way, I’m trying to get you to admit—to your understanding, sympathetic sister-in-law—that you’ve conjured up a fake fiancé to get Dylan and me to stop our crazy matchmaking.” A tear slipped down Hannah’s cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I know those guys we set you up with were really out in left field, honey, but we meant well…”
Julia pulled Hannah to her in a hug. “I know you did, and you’re right. I’ll admit it. There is no fiancé, fake or otherwise.” She dabbed Hannah’s tears with her napkin. “Besides, those blind dates weren’t so bad…well, except for the guy who belched his way through dinner…and maybe the one who knew the name of every single woman within shouting distance.”
Hannah sniffled and wiped her nose with her napkin, seeming more emotional than ever with this third pregnancy. “Don’t forget the one who drove up in his vintage Camaro and asked you to sit on a towel and wouldn’t let you touch anything in his precious car. Or the one with the falsetto voice.”
“If nothing else,” Julia said with a squeeze on Hannah’s shoulder, “those dates helped show me what I don’t want in a man. So I should thank you for that.”
“I hope you can forgive us,” Hannah said, blowing her nose, appearing embarrassed her tears were bringing unwanted attention to them. “Would you listen to me? I’m blubbering away in a room full of seniors who only came for a nice, quiet Christmas meal and a song or two.”
Julia released her pent-up sigh. “I’m the one who needs to ask forgiveness for making up a fiancé. I’ve never done anything like that before, but”—she smiled a little—”it did give me peace and quiet for a couple
of months.”
Hannah laughed. “Well, I guess Dylan and I deserve that. Do you mind if I tell him you finally fessed up?”
A sense of relief flooded through Julia. “If you want, and I’ll talk to him, too. He hinted at it the other night after we dropped Jake off at his house, and I told him we’d talk. What gave me away?”
“All that stuff I said a second ago. No woman looks at a man like you did at Jake if she’s got a man waiting for her at home. Not to mention I know you.”
Julia groaned and slumped in her chair. “Was I that obvious?”
“Nah,” Hannah said, waving her hand as she finished her food. “Everybody was busy doing their own thing, including Jake. Whenever you got that silly, moony-eyed expression on your face, I sent Tyler and Andrew over to run interference.” She pushed her plate away. “Tell me something else. Did this fictional fiancé of yours even have a name?”
Julia turned her head, not certain she wanted to answer that particular question.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” Hannah said, leaning closer.
“I’m not sure you’d even believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to tell...” Hannah stopped, and a slow smile spread across her face.
“I know, crazy, huh?” Putting her napkin on the table, Julia rose to her feet. “I made up a completely imaginary guy and—out of all the names in the world—his name happened to be Jake.”
“Nothing coincidental about that one,” Hannah said. “Why we even believed you for half a second is beyond me. Spill it. Was fictional Jake also a firefighter in this pretend world of yours, by any chance?”
“I think it’s almost time to serve dessert, so why don’t we go see if they’re ready for our help?”
Hannah wasn’t budging. “Oh no, Julia. This is too good. Answer the question please, and then I’ll haul myself out of this chair and come with you.”
“He was a toymaker and brought a wooden boy to life.” Julia tried not to smile. “Before my nose grows any longer with lies, yes, he was a firefighter, OK? But in my defense, I’d never met Jake Marston and only heard Dylan mention his name in passing a few times.”
After helping Hannah from her chair, Julia carried both their plates as they headed toward the kitchen. Just outside the door, Hannah lowered her voice. “Don’t you see, sweetie?”
Julia shook her head, confused. “I guess I don’t. My mind’s all muddled.”
“The Lord put a man named Jake in your mind and then you come here to Starlight—during the Christmas season, no less—”
“The man has a girlfriend, and I live in Cedar Rapids, Hannah. End of story.”
“Ex-girlfriend and remember something.” Hannah led the way into the kitchen.
“What’s that?” Julia asked, following her.
Stopping by the table loaded with trays of assorted desserts, Hannah’s wink was broad. “‘Tis the season of miracles.”
8
As soon as Pastor Ted’s boots crunched on the snow to announce his arrival, the small crowd gathered outside the church on Sunday evening grew quiet. Gripping her thermos of hot chocolate, Julia took comfort in its warmth and shifted from one foot to the other. “Who thought it was a brilliant idea to do this Christmas play outside?” she whispered to Hannah.
“They thought it was more realistic. In case it’s bad, at least it’ll be shorter and less painful for all involved. Sorry,” Hannah whispered. “This child has jumpstarted my sense of irony and sarcasm. Anyway, the kids do their part first followed by the live Nativity scene with the adults and the fake baby since little sprout here,” she said, patting her stomach, “obviously hasn’t decided to make her appearance anytime soon.”
“Well, at least little sprout is warm and cozy, but I hope the actors are wearing long johns under their robes.” Julia raised her face to the night sky. “The stars are so beautiful here. Is that how Starlight got its name?”
“I’m not sure, but it could be,” Hannah said. “It’ll be a nice story to tell the grandkids, anyway.” They shared a grin.
“And now,” Pastor Ted announced in his booming, radio-quality voice, “without further ado, may I present to you the world premiere of ‘The Night the Savior Came,’ an original play about the birth of Jesus, written by our own Marge Kennedy.”
The play began, and proud parents beamed, clapped and snapped photos with lots of oohs and ahhhs. A few of the smaller children forgot their lines and needed prompting. The same bossy girl from the fire engine tour wanted to say all the lines, and three boys Julia recognized from the Christmas party at Regency Hall stumbled over names and found creative ways to mispronounce them.
Julia sipped her hot chocolate and enjoyed it all, but there was a pause in the play when an actor apparently missed his or her cue. One of the wise men grunted. “I say, ‘Hark?’” A small twitter of laughter rippled across the crowd.
Hannah giggled and put a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound as Julia spied an angel stepping onto the makeshift stage. Clomped was more like it. A very tall angel. Jake. He stood in all his glory—white robe flowing in the wind and a crooked halo made from glittery gold pipe cleaners perched precariously on his head. His clunky fireman boots completed the ensemble.
Tyler pointed to him, waved and hollered, “Hi, Uncle Jake!”
“Uncle Jake?” Julia slanted a look at Hannah and raised a brow. Since when had Tyler started calling him that? Hannah shrugged without answering.
“Hark!” Jake said. “For unto us a Savior is born this day in Bethlehem…” His naturally deep voice resonated in the night, carrying across the hushed crowd. At first hesitant, he gained more confidence the deeper he got into his speech. In the church service that morning, she’d heard Jake’s rich tenor voice rising above the rest. This man lived his faith.
At the end of the play, Pastor Ted stepped forward to give an invitation. Hearing a few sniffles, Julia noted a number of those gathered around her were dabbing their eyes with tissues. One of the older men whipped a handkerchief from his pants pocket and blew his nose loud enough to make a few of the kids, including Tyler and Andrew, snicker.
A little boy ran over to Jake, tugging on his robe, and Jake crouched to eye-level with him. “Jesus was once a little baby like you were, Tommy,” she heard Jake say. “He slept in a crib, cried, needed food, and did those other disgusting things babies do.” He laughed at something Tommy said, and it was enough to almost dislodge the pipe cleaner halo. When Jake’s smile sobered, he made sure he had the boy’s eye contact. “Think about someone you love, and think about how you’d feel if you had to leave them.” He put one large hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Jesus gave up his life in heaven because He loved us. That little baby in the manger grew up to be a man who died when He was a few years older than I am right now.” Jake smiled. “I know that seems old, but I’m not ancient. Remember this: Jesus gave up everything for us. He died, was buried, and He rose again all because of our sin, and that’s the greatest gift the world’s ever known—or ever will know.”
Julia moved her hand over her heart as a man she assumed was Tommy’s dad shook hands with Jake. So touched she couldn’t speak, she turned to go as Jake walked over to another group of parents and kids, his hand outstretched.
“You OK, sweetie?” Hannah hooked an arm through hers as they joined Dylan, Tyler, and Andrew and walked to their car.
“Sure am,” she said. “The play was wonderful, wasn’t it?”
Hannah squeezed her arm.
On the way home, Dylan told them how Jake was drafted into his role when another man fell ill earlier in the day. “Jake didn’t get much of a chance to study the script. I think he strayed from it, but—once he got going—he put his own spin on it and made it even better. No offense to Marge.” Dylan chuckled. “Knowing Jake, he probably thought it’d make a statement if he showed up wearing his boots tonight.”
That it did. Staring out the window, Julia tuned out the animated conversation in the car. Pret
ending to be tired, she closed her eyes. She loved how he spoke so openly about his faith. Together with that silly halo and those ridiculous boots peeking out beneath his “angel” robe, Jake Marston had captured a little bit more of her heart.
9
On Tuesday morning, helping to celebrate the “Grand Reopening” of Barney’s Diner after the fire, Jake sputtered and put his napkin over his lips so he wouldn’t spew out a mouthful of grounds. Grabbing the glass on the counter beside him, he swallowed a few gulps. Thank goodness Caroline also knew to give him a large side of ice water along with his usual breakfast: three eggs over easy, a couple of sausage patties, and two pieces of whole wheat toast with strawberry jam.
“Are you OK?” No mistaking that voice.
Jake coughed and steeled himself to look Julia’s way and not fall off the counter stool. Claiming the vinyl was slippery wouldn’t fly as an excuse for taking a pratfall. “I think so.” When her long hair brushed across his sleeve, he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. His gaze slid to her pink sweater, off-white down vest and jeans tucked into boots. She’s taken. Don’t even think about it. He forced his eyes to the milkshake machine, not wanting to be caught gawking, or one of the old-timers would pull out the worn cliché and tell him to take a picture because it would last longer.
“Maybe I should order tea?” Amusement danced around the edges of Julia’s question.
“I’d say so, unless you’re feeling like a martyr.” They shared a grin. It felt good. So far, so good. Don’t blow it. Say something witty. “So, I got myself a dog yesterday.”
“You did?” Those mesmerizing eyes—more inviting than a swimming pool to a ten-year-old on summer vacation—met his.
“Well, a puppy. Bailey.”
“Nice name. Male or female?”
“Female. Yellow lab.” He caught her look. “Oh, no. I’m a novice at puppy paternity. Please don’t tell me getting a female was a mistake, too?”
