He seemed genuinely pleased, pulling her to him and giving her a thank you kiss. “I like it.”
“Do you really? I know it's not a very expensive present.”
“It's better than an expensive present because it's from you.”
“And I have some friendship tea for you to give your parents from me.”
“They'll love it,” he said and gave her a little squeeze. “Open your present.”
She pulled off the wrapping paper and opened the box to find a pair of pink pearl earrings. “They're beautiful,” she said. It's not a ring. “I hope you didn't spend too much.” I wish you'd bought a ring.
“Do you like them?”
Well, of course, they were gorgeous. “I love them.” They're not a ring.
And so what if they weren't? Did she need a ring to be happy? Did she need a man to be happy, for that matter? Really, she had to stop operating her life under the influence of romance novels. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“And don't make any plans for New Year's Eve,” he added.
Because then she'd get a ring? Oh, stop, she told herself firmly. “I already did. I told Jess I'd come hear her band play. Want to join me?”
“Okay, but how about dinner first?”
“I think I could swing it.”
He nodded, pleased with the deal. “We'll make it a night to remember.”
What did that mean, dinner and a ring?
It means a new year, Rachel told herself firmly. And she was going to make it good no matter what happened on New Year's Eve.
• 28 •
The three friends had their own holiday celebration right before Christmas at Tiffany's house, turning a potluck lunch into a competition to see who could come up with the most inexpensive and tasty dish. Rachel won, hands down, with her potato soup. Tiffany came in second with pasta dressed up with Italian dressing, black olives, and drained canned tomatoes—cheaper than using fresh ones, she bragged. Jess knew she wouldn't even be in the running, so she brought a tossed salad.
“Not a salad in a bag though,” she said. She knew she would never be the queen of the kitchen, but she was making progress and learning important kitchen truths her mother had tried to teach her years before, one of which was that it didn't take much more time to tear up lettuce and cut tomatoes than it did to dump something from a bag into a bowl. Shortcuts weren't always that much shorter. And to think it had only taken her until her forties to make that discovery!
“I say we call it a three-way tie,” said Rachel.
“Oh, we have to have a winner,” protested Tiffany. “I have a prize.”
“Then give it to Rachel,” said Jess. “That soup was the bomb, and it's hard to get cheaper than potatoes.”
The prize was a small envelope filled with grocery store coupons. “All right,” crowed Rachel. “I'm rich!”
Gifts, too, were bargain goodies selected with care. Jess was thrilled with the Cyndi Lauper poster Tiffany had picked up at a garage sale. “Girls just wanna have fun, right?” said Tiffany.
“That's always been my motto,” said Jess, and hugged her. “Thank you so much! Now, you two, open yours.
They did and found twin pink glass piggy banks.
“This is so cute!” cried Tiff.
“Somehow, I thought it was fitting,” Jess said. “Oh, and I have something else for both of you.” She produced two rolled scrolls of printer paper tied with red curling ribbon.
“What's this, a proclamation?” teased Rachel.
“It's our holiday theme song,” said Jess.
Tiffany had her scroll unwrapped. “Sing to ‘Jingle Bells,’ ” she read.
“Okay, sing it for us,” said Rachel, opening hers.
“We can all sing it together,” Jess said. She counted them down and they chorused:
Dashing through the store
Everywhere I see
Merchandise on sale,
And it's calling me, “Buy, buy, buy!”
But they're only things
They can't make memories
So I'll spend less and give more
To my family. Yeah!
Jingling coins, jingling coins, I am going to save
Lots of money by not spending all of them today.
Jingling coins, jingling coins, I'm careful how I spend
That way I will have a merry Christmas in the end.
“That is a perfect holiday theme song for us,” Rachel said when they were finished. “I'm putting it up on my blog.”
The fun, silly gifts went on: a book Tiffany had found at a ga-rage sale for Rachel on how to test her man's IQ, a flower ring made of sequins for Jess along with a children's cookbook Rachel had picked up at the Goodwill as well as a used book full of inexpensive crafts for Tiffany. The big present of the day was for Rachel from Jess and Tiffany.
Rachel pulled out the gift card for a haircut at Salon H and almost cried. “Hey, you two. We're supposed to be exchanging inexpensive presents.”
“It didn't cost that much,” Tiffany assured her. “I bartered with Cara. Anyway, we figured you needed a new look to go with your new man.”
“Speaking of your new man, did he give you anything for Christmas before vanishing to eastern Washington?” prompted Jess.
“Pearl earrings,” said Rachel.
“Can a ring be far behind?” Jess teased.
Rachel's shrug was nonchalant and, Jess suspected, totally fake. “Who knows? Meanwhile, we're enjoying being together.”
Okay, maybe Rachel was perfectly happy to drift along indefinitely with no commitment. It wasn't Jess's idea of a wise way to run a relationship, but in light of past hurts she could understand the need to take their time. Love was such a gamble. Heck, life was a gamble.
Lately, it looked like Jess and Michael had gambled and lost. Reduced from never having to worry about money to living with her mother-in-law. Boy, had her fortunes changed in a hurry.
You love your mother-in-law, Jess reminded herself on a regular basis. But loving her mother-in-law and loving living with her were two different things. Women were never designed to share a house together, Jess concluded.
Myra did some things on a regular basis that were beginning to get to Jess. Every time Jess sat down at the piano, Myra thought of something she needed. “Oh, dear, would you mind getting the hamburger out to thaw. I forgot to do it.” … “I hate to ask, but would it be too much trouble for you to run to the post office for me? I'm completely out of stamps and I want to get this letter out today.” … “I love to hear you play the piano.” … “I'm sorry to trouble you, Jess, but I'm getting a bit of a headache. Would you please get me an aspirin and a drink of water.” … “Would you mind playing something a little softer?”
Pretty soon Jess got the message. Her piano wasn't welcome in the house. They'd had to rearrange the furniture to make room for it and Myra had insisted she didn't mind. Myra needed to revisit that attitude. The piano wasn't the only thing that wasn't particularly welcome. With the exception of her bedroom set, Jess's furniture was in storage, along with her pictures and knickknacks and even her dishes. “I simply don't know where we'd put them,” Myra lamented.
Equally annoying were Myra's repeated requests for Jess to do all of the household cleaning. “Could you do the dusting this morning? My back is killing me.” Or, “You know how it hurts my hips to lean over the tub, dear.”
You'll be old, too, Jess reminded herself as she trudged to the bathroom on Christmas Eve day, cleanser in hand. Except Myra wasn't that old, and Jess was beginning to suspect that bad health had been a ruse. First it had been a ruse to help her son and allow him to save face. Now it was becoming a ruse to turn her daughter-in-law into a cleaning service to replace the woman she'd fired the week before Jess and Michael moved in.
“If you don't kick this bad attitude you're going to get nothing but a lump of coal for Christmas,” Jess warned herself. She began to hum “Deck the Halls.”
By the time she was
finished with the song she felt better. It was the season to be jolly and that was exactly what she was going to do. She and her husband had a place to live and no mortgage payments. Michael didn't have a job yet, but a new year was right around the corner. Things could be a heck of a lot worse.
When Mikey and Erica and her new husband arrived on Christmas day, their arms filled with festively wrapped presents, Jess saw firsthand how rich she was. Her children loved her and were happy to be with her. They were all well and safe, and they were about to enjoy a holiday feast. Did it get any better than that?
She and Michael had warned the kids that this would be a budget Christmas, and they'd kept their word, limiting the presents to a gift card for each one tucked into a gift basket filled with their mother's homemade goodies.
“Wow, Mom. You really made all this?” asked Erica, looking at Jess in amazement.
“Living proof that jam doesn't always come from the store.”
“I used to make all my own jam,” put in Myra, managing a bit of motherly one-upsmanship. “But I must admit, I never tasted anything as good as that huckleberry jam you gave me,” she added, beaming at Jess. “We had some this morning for breakfast,” she told Erica.
Okay, Myra might just live to see the new year.
“And so prettily wrapped. You always had a flair for that sort of thing,” Myra added, helping Jess remember why she did, indeed, love her mother-in-law.
Even though Jess had encouraged the kids to save their pennies and not get carried away, they hadn't listened. Oh, there were the token inexpensive trinkets, like a trophy from Mikey to Jess proclaiming her the world's best boss. For Michael he'd found some-thing called The Perfect Employee doll, which Mikey said came in both a boy and girl version. Michael's doll was a man in a three-piece suit, wearing a big smile and a very brown nose. When Michael pulled the cord, his new toy spouted comments like “There is no ‘I’ in team” and “I'm all over it, boss” and “I don't want a bonus. I'm just happy to work here.” He also gave his father a bottle of champagne. “To celebrate when you get a job,” Mikey explained.
“Thanks, son,” Michael said. “That was really thoughtful,” he added, and his voice broke. He got up and hugged his son, clapping him on the back.
For a moment, shock hung over the room as the children processed seeing their father so emotional. Then Erica handed Jess a large box. “Here, Mom. Open this next. It's from Mikey and me.”
Jess opened the box to find another smaller one inside, also wrapped. She couldn't help smiling. She'd pulled this gag on Erica more than a few times over the years.
“How does it feel?” taunted Erica.
“I'll let you know when I get to the last box,” Jess retorted. “All I can say right now is you learned this trick from a darned clever woman.”
Three boxes later she was down to a small checkbook-sized box. She opened it and found, nestled inside some tissue paper, a gas card. Jess looked up, surprised.
“So you can go see your girlfriends at the lake,” Erica explained.
Jess burst into tears.
“Told you she'd love it,” Erica said to Mikey.
No, what she loved was her children.
The surprises kept coming. Even though she and Michael had made a pact not to get each other presents, he'd sneaked off and gotten something anyway. “Michael,” she gasped, as she opened the jewelry box and saw a heart-shaped necklace ringed with little diamonds.
“Don't worry, I didn't pay a lot for it.”
Jess frowned at him. “That's not the point.”
“Well, you can't take it back because the pawnbroker said no returns.”
“You got Mom a necklace at a pawn shop?” squeaked Erica.
“Well, I never,” said Myra in disgust. “Really, Michael!”
Jess smiled as she put it on. “I think it was a great idea. Don't be surprised if this ends up on Rachel's blog.”
The biggest present of all came inside an oversized Christmas card from Myra to Jess. Jess pulled out an estimate for a bathroom remodel from Seattle Bath. “What?”
“All you have to do is pick the colors,” Myra said with a smile.
She'd said Jess could redecorate, but Jess had never believed she really meant it. Considering how much Myra loved her pink bathroom, this was the ultimate sacrifice.
In addition to the card, Myra had written Jess a note on her favorite floral stationery.
Dear daughter,
I have always loved you and you have always been a blessing. But never more so than these last few months. I can only imagine how hard it has been to leave the home you loved so much and move into another woman's house, but you did it all without complaint.
Jess could feel her cheeks heating and tears pooling in her eyes. She blinked hard and read on.
I can only hope that someday you get a daughter-in-law who is as good to you as you have been to me.
Jess was crying in earnest by the time she finished. It had been a miserable year with the money worries and having to leave her home. But it had also brought unexpected blessings, like an opportunity to live her rocker chick dream and a chance to make precious memories with Myra. She hugged her mother-in-law and sent up a quick prayer of thanks for allowing her to become such a rich woman.
• 29 •
“Do you like my outfit for New Year's Eve?” Tiffany asked, twirling in front of Brian.
He turned aside from his computer game to take in her backless black dress and silver heels with an appreciative eye. “Oh, yeah.”
“Want to know where I got it?”
Wariness flitted across his face. “I don't know. Do I?”
“Yes, you do. I went shopping.” Brian opened his mouth to remind her about their budget pact but she cut him off. “I went shopping in Cara's closet.”
Now he was really looking appreciative. “No shit?”
“No shit,” she assured him. “And Cara's wearing my dress from last year. Am I good or what?”
“Yes, you are,” he agreed. “Come here, you.” She came and perched on his lap and he took a nibble of her neck. “I like it even better when you're bad.”
She was just starting to show him how bad she could be when the phone rang.
“Let it ring,” said Brian, running a hand up her thigh.
“It might be important,” she insisted, and picked up.
“What is it?” demanded Brian, taking in her shocked expression. Only the call of a lifetime.
“You never told me where you were taking me for dinner,” Rachel said after Chad had gotten her settled into his vintage Mustang. She hoped she wasn't overdressed. She'd dug out some black velvet pants she'd had forever and teamed them up with her slinky black top and some rhinestone jewelry Jess had loaned her. Considering the number of inexpensive dates she and Chad had enjoyed, it wouldn't have surprised her if they'd wound up at Crazy Eric's eating hamburgers. That would be fine with her. When she was with Chad she was never aware of her surroundings for long anyway.
“I'm taking you someplace I hope you'll like,” he said. Instead of heading for the freeway he turned the car toward Lake Way.
So, somewhere in town? The Two Turtledoves? The Family Inn? She hoped he'd chosen The Family Inn. The prices were reasonable, and Ty Howell, who was both chef and half owner of the place, had done a wonderful job of revamping the old restaurant's menu. Two Turtledoves would be way too spendy.
But Chad bypassed both restaurants, instead driving them to the less developed side of the lake. “I thought you might like to see my place,” he said.
“Oh, you mean where you've been staying.”
He gave her a cryptic smile and nodded.
As they drove, she could catch glimpses of the lake hidden among the trees, the lights from the houses around it reflected on its surface. She'd often driven by the lake with a jealous eye, wishing she could live on it. Not likely, even if she had the money. A few wooded spots remained and some charming, old family cabins, but most of th
e waterfront was developed now, and lakefront houses rarely came up for sale. Once people got their hands on one they didn't want to sell.
Chad turned down a private gravel road, hidden among fir, alder, and general forest tangle.
“Secluded,” Rachel observed.
He looked at her. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It depends on who your neighbors are, I guess.” She had liked her house, but she'd loved the camaraderie of the neighborhood thanks to Tiff and Jess. Now, with her grumpy new neighbors, not so much.
“I actually have nice neighbors,” Chad said, “but I like the fact that we can't see into each other's places.”
“Oh, you get used to it,” said Rachel, thinking about all the fun she'd had running back and forth from her house to Jess's.
“You miss your next door neighbor, huh?”
“There's an understatement,” said Rachel. “The new neighbors are enough to make me wish I lived someplace like this.” The road ended, leaving them in front of a two-story cedar home. It wasn't huge, but it was no cabin, either. She looked at Chad in surprise. “This is your idea of a cabin?”
He shrugged. “It's only three bedrooms. But it's got a great deck.”
He took her in through the back door and they passed through a combination mudroom-laundry room, then down a hall past a couple of doors which, she assumed, led to bedrooms. The master bedroom was probably on the second story to take advantage of the view. She caught a whiff of something spicy, probably their dinner, as she followed him through a den area complete with leather couch and chairs and a flat panel TV. Then they were in a huge great room that housed a state of the art kitchen, dining area, and living room. Floor to ceiling windows framed a view of the lake. A fire burned in the wood stove in the corner of the room, casting a romantic glow on the hardwood floors and the furniture. The sofa and two chairs were sage microfilter, big, and comfortable looking.
“Wow,” Rachel breathed. “Some cabin. I can't believe your friend has let you stay here so long.”
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