“What’s done is done, Mr. O’Brien. Thank you for offering the pup update. You can call my cell as soon as you have word of their condition.”
With that, Stephanie took both girls by the hand and led them away from Patrick, his promises, and whatever it was he had been about to say.
Chapter Ten
Two Weeks Later . . .
“Well, I for one think he owes you at least a bit of loyalty. You’ve worked your rear off at that place for two years, and this is what you get? Laid off during the holidays?” Melanie took a sip of her coffee. “I still think you should have told Max and Grace at the tree lighting.”
“I know you do. It stinks, but it is what it is. I didn’t want to spoil their evening. I’ll be fine as long as the deal on the house goes through. I’ve already filled out all the paperwork; the deposit is being held in escrow; now all I’m waiting on is the bank. And you know how banks are. They take their good old easy time. Jessica said if I was lucky, I’d be moved in before the end of the year, but I don’t see that happening. Not with the holidays coming up.”
Stephanie and Melanie had just returned from walking the girls to the bus stop. Since her forced leave of absence had begun, they had spent almost every day together. If anything good had come out of her layoff, it was her close friendship with Melanie. They’d taken the girls to the movies twice, three times to McDonald’s, and once they’d gone out for pizza at a new pizza parlor in town called Izzy’s. Melanie wanted to take them to see a Christmas play in Denver this weekend, but Stephanie really couldn’t afford the tickets. Melanie had told Stephanie it was her treat, but Stephanie, who had no idea just how well-off her friend was, said that was too much. Instead, the four of them were planning to see A Christmas Carol at the high school in Placerville. It was free to anyone, and Stephanie knew the girls would get a kick out of it. Ever since Grace had taken them to see The Nutcracker at Eagle Valley High, they’d fallen in love with live performance of any kind.
“I know you can’t wait to get out of this little place, but I think I will miss it when you and the girls leave,” Melanie said as she gazed around the three-room garage apartment.
“Then you should ask your parents to rent it to you,” Stephanie teased. “I’m sure they would give you a decent rate. Not that they haven’t given me a good rate. I didn’t mean to imply that they hadn’t. I know what they could really get out of this place if they wanted to rent it as vacation property.”
“I don’t see that happening. They’ve loved having you and the girls here. I don’t think the place has ever looked quite as homey.”
Stephanie had tried her best to make the small, cramped area into a home. She’d painted the walls a warm butter color and sewn cream-colored drapes to cover the large picture window in the living area. She’d spent two weekends putting new tile in the one and only bathroom. She’d been quite proud of herself, too. She’d taken a course on installing ceramic tile offered at the local hardware store and found it really wasn’t all that hard to do. She’d borrowed the wet saw and cutters from Max, and the tiles she’d chosen, a creamy beige, were on sale. She’d asked permission first, and, of course, she’d been given complete and total discretion over the apartment. She was told to make it her own, and that was exactly what she’d done.
The kitchen wasn’t much bigger than a closet, but Stephanie had left her mark there, too. She’d wallpapered the one wall with tiny butterflies, bought an inexpensive set of pale yellow canisters at a discount store, and added a sheer yellow curtain over the window above the sink. The table had been there when she moved in. Stephanie now knew that it had been a tenth-anniversary gift from Melanie’s father to her mother many years ago. Solid hard rock maple with four matching chairs. She’d purchased yellow checkered cushions and matching place mats after she’d polished the deep honey-colored wood to a mellow shine. It was homey, just as Melanie said.
Stephanie had been hesitant about putting up a tree that year, hoping by some sheer force of magic that she would be in the new house, and they would have Christmas there, but she hadn’t told the girls about the house, so she’d had to decorate the small artificial tree she’d purchased the first year they lived there. The apartment couldn’t hold much more than that, but she and the girls had decorated wherever possible. They’d tied red and green ribbons on all the doorknobs, and on the handles on the kitchen cabinets. They’d strung cranberries and popcorn on thread and draped it on top of the curtain rod in the living room. Baskets of pinecones they had gathered covered every available surface. Amanda had cut out shapes of stars and Christmas trees from red and green construction paper and taped them all over the walls. Not to be outdone, Ashley had used all the aluminum foil in the house making angels and taping them to the ceiling. That had been quite the task, but they’d all enjoyed themselves. And now their little place sparkled and shone, ready for the holidays.
Though it was expensive and not in her budget, Stephanie had bought the girls each a cell phone for Christmas. Remembering those few hours of fear on Black Friday had left her shaken, more so than she’d let on. She’d purchased cards with a limited number of minutes and would instruct the girls that the phones were only to be used in case of an emergency, but she didn’t see that happening, at least not with Ashley. She was starting to talk on the phone with her school friends, and Stephanie knew she would want to fit in with the rest of her classmates by texting and talking on her new cell phone. When Grace and Max had asked what they could give the girls for Christmas, she’d told them to buy them minutes for their phones.
“Thanks, we love it here, it’s just not big enough. You know what it’s like when three girls share a bathroom?” Stephanie teased.
“I’ve witnessed it with my very own eyes,” Melanie informed her.
“Yes, I suppose you have. I’m just lucky they’re still young. Can you imagine what it would be like if they were teenagers?”
Melanie laughed. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
They chatted for a few more minutes. As Melanie was getting ready to leave, the phone rang. Stephanie hoped the girls were all right. She still didn’t feel one hundred percent secure when they were out of her sight.
She raised her index finger to Melanie, indicating for her to wait a minute.
Melanie stood by the door.
“Hello,” Stephanie said into the phone, her voice tinged with a bit a fear. “Jessica! It’s great to hear from you.” Stephanie paused, then nodded to Jessica, who, of course, couldn’t see her. As though she were moving in slow motion, she sat down on the kitchen chair.
“That’s not true,” she cried vehemently. “I don’t understand,” she trailed off, her voice laced with disappointment. “Yes, of course. I don’t know what to say except it’s simply not true. I’ll have to call you back,” Stephanie said as she tossed the phone on the table.
Melanie walked across the small living room back to the kitchen. She sat down in the chair she’d just vacated. “You don’t look so hot. Are the girls okay?”
“I hope so. That was Jessica Rollins on the phone. She said she just got off the phone with the bank.” Her eyes pooled with unshed tears. “They’ve denied my loan.”
Melanie reached cross the table for Stephanie’s hand. “How can that be? Jessica said the hard part was over. I thought they’d already approved the loan, that it was simply a matter of signing the final papers at the closing.” Melanie appeared to be as dumbfounded as Stephanie. “Did they offer an explanation? Did Jessica say what happened to change their minds?”
Crestfallen, Stephanie nodded. “Jessica said banks don’t give loans to people who are unemployed.”
Chapter Eleven
“Out of a job? What is she talking about? You’re not out of a job,” Melanie said again, as though saying it would make it so, at least as far as Jessica Rollins and the bank were concerned. “I don’t know where they got their information, but I sure hope you find out.”
Depleted of whateve
r energy she’d had, Stephanie got out of her chair and stood at the sink looking out the window that overlooked the long, winding driveway leading to her apartment. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes on a tea towel. “I know where it came from. It’s obvious.”
“You think Patrick is behind this?” Melanie stated the obvious.
Stephanie turned around to face her. “Who else would stoop so low to do something like this? I think he’s still upset at me for not allowing the girls to go to Claude’s with him to see the puppies.”
“I don’t think he’s that vindictive, or juvenile. I know he’s not the most classy guy in the world, but I really don’t believe he would stoop to this sea urchin level.”
Stephanie sniffled into the tea towel, not caring that she’d painstakingly embroidered the butterflies on it late one night when she’d had a hard time going to sleep. “You don’t get it, Melanie. The guy has it in for me. He thinks women like me are nothing but trash. I know what I’m talking about, trust me.”
“Well, I never trust anyone who says ‘trust me,’ but I can tell you this; whatever makes you think you’re trash and whatever ‘women like me’ are, I would be honored to walk in your shadow, Stephanie Casolino-Marshall. What you are is a decent hardworking woman who wants nothing more than a better life for her two daughters than she had. What you are is a loving, giving, caring mother and friend. Now I know you’re not going to like this, but in this instance I’m going to tell you, too bad. I’m calling Max myself. This childish behavior from his manager, and I use that word loosely, has to stop.” Melanie reached for the phone in the center of the table.
Stephanie placed her hand on top of Melanie’s. “I really don’t want you to call Max or Grace. It will seem as though I’m taking advantage of their friendship. And thanks for saying all those nice things about me. You’re a good friend, you know that, right?”
“Yes, I know that, and thanks. But friends don’t sit by and allow their best friends to get kicked in the butt when they’re already down.” Melanie held her hand up as if to ward off any further comments from Stephanie. “Go take a shower, wash your hair, and put on some makeup. Not that you need it with that peaches-and-cream complexion, but do it anyway. Then when you’re finished, get that black pant suit out of the back of your closet. The one you wore when you applied for your mortgage. No, on second thought forget that. Get the tightest, sexiest pair of jeans you own and top them with that bright red sweater I gave you.” Melanie was on a roll. “Don’t say another word because I’m not listening. Go on, get in the shower. You have one hour to sexy up.”
“Sexy up? That’s a new one,” Stephanie said.
“Yes it is. And that’s because I just made it up. It’s mine, an original, so don’t think I’m going to let you take credit for it. Now get in the shower, or I will toss you in there myself.”
“I’m not sure if I like you this way. Bossy and all.”
“If you don’t get out of here and get in that shower, I will show you what bossy is. Now git, and I don’t mean perhaps. Now! Remember, you’ve got exactly one hour.”
Stephanie gave up. “Okay. I guess I need to shower, but for the record, I want you to know that I will be okay with this.”
Melanie shot her arm out like an arrow pointing toward the bathroom.
“Okay, okay,” Stephanie whined before locking herself in the bathroom.
Melanie waited until she heard the shower running before she picked up the phone. She knew that Stephanie’s pride was on the line, but right then she didn’t care. What she cared about was that someone had caused her dear friend to lose out on her dream. Whether it was intentional or not didn’t really matter at that point. It only mattered that Stephanie had worked harder than anyone she knew just to save a few thousand dollars for a down payment on a home for her and her children. In today’s fast world of give or I’ll take, Stephanie was a rare breed. And what was a huge sum to Stephanie was chump change for Melanie, who had way more than enough to make a real difference. For the first time in her twenty-four years, Melanie felt like this opportunity, to do something really, really special for people she loved, was a gift to herself, not the other way around.
She hit *69 on the phone to get the last incoming number. She scribbled it down on a magnetic pad stuck on the front of the refrigerator.
“Jessica Rollins, please,” she said when a young woman picked up the phone. “And tell her it’s a matter of life and death.”
“Oh my gosh,” the young woman said, “I’ll take this call to her myself.”
Melanie thought the girl deserved a raise.
“Thank you,” she said.
A minute later, Melanie had Jessica Rollins on the phone. She made quick work of telling her what she needed and when she needed it. The woman was more than willing to jump through a few hoops to make her wishes come true. When they finalized their plans, Melanie dialed the number to the office at Maximum Glide.
A voice she didn’t recognize answered the phone. Melanie wasn’t sure if it was a male or a female either.
“Mr. Edward Patrick Joseph O’Brien, please. Tell him it’s a matter of life and death.” Melanie liked this new role of taking charge, sort of like kicking ass and taking names later.
Two seconds later, the man himself was on the phone. “This is Patrick.”
Melanie rolled her eyes. She was sure the man deliberately downplayed his intelligence.
“Patrick, this is Melanie, and we have a problem.” Just for meanness, she waited a few seconds before continuing. Let him wiggle in his britches.
“Is it Stephanie, or the girls?” he asked.
More meanness. “All of them.”
“Tell me where they’re at, and I can be there in minutes,” he replied anxiously.
Again, she let him stew. She knew it was mean, but it was her way of getting even over his putting Stephanie on that unpaid leave of absence.
“Melanie, tell me what’s wrong. Please!” He shouted so loud she had to hold the phone away from her ear.
“I need you to listen, and I don’t want you to interrupt me. Is that clear?”
She heard an intake of breath over the phone line. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Melanie made fast work of telling him what she wanted and when she wanted it. He complied as fast as Jessica Rollins had. Maybe graphic design isn’t my calling after all.
Thirty minutes later, Stephanie was showered, dressed, and looking like a million bucks.
“Now, I want you to get in my car. We’re going out for lunch.”
“Melanie, I know you’re trying to cheer me up, and I really do appreciate it, but I have to be here when the girls get home.” She looked at the clock on the stove. “And that’s in two hours. I don’t see how we can go out to lunch and actually enjoy ourselves in such a short period of time.”
“Did I say we were going to enjoy ourselves? Hmm, I don’t believe I did. Now go.”
“Well, I hope you know I feel like a fool, all dressed up, looking so silly, just to eat lunch. And we’ll have to go to a fast-food place because that’s all I have time for. And I won’t take no for an answer, not where my girls are concerned,” Stephanie said adamantly.
“I’ve arranged for my mother to be here when they get home.” She really hadn’t, but she would. “You have way too much blusher on. Go wipe some off before we leave. You look like Ronald McDonald.”
“I really don’t like this side of you.”
“Tough. Go wipe your cheeks. Now.”
Stephanie turned around and headed for the bathroom. Melanie called her mother and explained the situation. She was more than willing to help out. She said she would be waiting at the bus stop for the girls and from there she would take them to Chuck E. Cheese, if Stephanie didn’t mind, of course. Melanie assured her she wouldn’t but reminded her mother not to forget to take her cell phone, because Melanie knew Stephanie would want to call and check on the girls.
Stephanie came out of the bath
room as soon as Melanie hung up the phone.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were up to something. But I don’t know better, at least not today. So let’s just have lunch and enjoy ourselves before the girls come home. It might be fun just the two of us for a change. We can order junk food.”
“Yes, and we will as soon as you get in the car.” Melanie practically shoved her out the door. “I told you my mother would be here just in case we ran a little late, and you’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
“And you want me to trust someone who says she doesn’t trust people who say trust me?”
“Did I say that?” Melanie asked, as they loaded into her Lincoln Navigator.
“Yes, you did.”
“Well, I’m telling you now that you have to trust me. You don’t have to like me, just trust me.”
Stephanie took a deep breath. “Turn the heat on, it’s freezing. I really wish you would tell me what’s going on. I don’t like surprises.”
“Tough,” Melanie said as she maneuvered down the long, winding drive. Evergreens topped with a heavy layer of snow flanked the sides of the drive. It never failed to remind her just how beautiful Colorado really was.
Exactly twenty minutes later, they pulled into the main parking lot at Maximum Glide.
Stephanie looked as though she were ready to do battle. “What are we doing here? This is the last place I want to be right now.”
“Tough. It’s where you need to be. There is someone here who wants to talk to you. Now get out, or I will carry you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
“I’m not sure I want the girls to see you like this. It might scare them,” Stephanie teased.
“Right! They love me any way I am, and we both know that.”
“Yes, they do.”
As they trudged across the parking lot, snow crunched against their boots, the sound barely audible over the crowds on the mountain. The previous week’s blizzard conditions were long gone. In their place the sun was as bright as butter, the sky as blue as a robin’s egg, and the snow as white and clean as freshly beaten cream.
Coming Home for Christmas Page 23
