On Christmas Eve

by Thomas Kinkade

  She could do worse. A lot worse. Dr. Alex Becker was very attractive. A dedicated doctor, intelligent, warm, and fun to be around. Practically any woman she knew would agree.

  It just takes me a while to get to know someone and feel relaxed, she reminded herself. She had to stop being so picky. Just relax and give the guy a chance, she told herself.

  For the rest of the evening, Betty followed her own advice. There were a few more phone calls, but Alex kept them short and always apologized. He was concerned about his patients; she couldn’t find fault with that. He also had a real talent for remembering where their conversations had broken off, which showed he was really listening.

  After dinner, Alex drove her back to her house. He parked in front and turned off the engine. “I had a great time tonight, Betty. I hope you did, too. I really enjoyed the tennis . . . and talking with you. Though I’m sorry about all the calls. Next time I’ll get some other doc to cover for me, promise.”

  “No problem, I understand,” Betty assured him. “I hope the next time I need a doctor, I can find someone as dedicated as you are.”

  Alex laughed and smiled at her. “Just try me. I’d definitely pick up for you.”

  Betty smiled, feeling self-conscious and very aware of the way he was looking at her now. “I had a great time,” she assured him. “Thank you.”

  He looked pleased by her answer. “It’s still early. Mind if I come in?”

  “I’d love to talk some more, but I have to work tomorrow. I really need to turn in early.” She tried to sound regretful when, in fact, she was surprised that he had been so forward; this was only their second date. Well, Alex was an assertive guy. He went after what he wanted, and Betty didn’t mind that . . . most of the time.

  “How about getting together again this week?” he asked.

  “That would be great,” she said. “Would you like to see a movie?”

  “Sure. That would be fun. I’ll call you and we’ll make plans.”

  He leaned over and kissed her, slipping his arm around her waist. Betty leaned toward him and put her hand on his chest. His beard tickled her face a little. The kiss was brief but definitely sent a message. The doctor had an agenda.

  “Let me walk you to the door,” he said.

  “That’s okay. I can let myself in.” Betty grabbed her purse and got out of the car. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks again.”

  He was probably just trying to be polite, but Betty wasn’t ready for more good night embraces on her doorstep, or requests to come in for coffee. She liked Alex. She liked him a lot. But he seemed to like her more and was moving along a little quickly for her. She just needed some time to catch up.

  She opened her door and glanced back. Alex was waiting in the driveway, making sure she got inside safely. Betty saw him drive off as she closed her front door. This could be good, she thought happily. This could turn into something.

  While Molly might find that a tepid, timid prediction, Betty knew that at her stage of the game, it was saying a lot.

  BETTY CAME INTO THE SHOP EARLY THE NEXT DAY. THE PARTY THEY were catering didn’t start until the evening, but it was going to be a very fancy affair and there was still plenty to do. Molly was already at work, grilling shrimp for a spicy noodle dish.

  “Morning,” Betty said, as she slipped on her apron. She poured a mug of coffee and quickly went to work, sorting and washing a pile of vegetables and fruit that had just been delivered by their produce man.

  She wondered how long it would take Molly to ask her about the date. Just for fun, she silently counted. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . .

  “So, how was the tennis match? I could make some corny pun here about a love match,” Molly teased, “but—”

  “Don’t even go there, Mol. Please?”

  “All right, I’ll skip it. But only if you start talking. So—?”

  “We had a really good time. The tennis went fine. Much better than I expected once I got warmed up. We had dinner at that new French bistro in Hamilton. It was really lovely.” Very romantic, Betty was about to add, then decided to skip that particular detail. Molly didn’t need any encouragement.

  “Great. I’m glad to hear it. So you’re going out again, I assume?”

  “Yes, this week. We’re going to the movies.”

  “Sounds like things are progressing,” Molly said happily.

  “We’re getting to know each other. So far, so good,” Betty agreed. “He did have this situation with his cell phone going off all the time while we were eating dinner. But he is a doctor and said there were some patients of his in the ICU.”

  “Tell me about it. Matt’s always getting calls from the hospital. You’ll get used to it,” Molly promised.

  Molly did have high hopes for their future, didn’t she? She had made the match and now seemed to be invested in it working out. Betty felt a little wary about that but pushed her worries aside.

  “It wasn’t just the hospital. There were other calls, but . . . it was okay,” Betty added quickly. “I mean, it didn’t ruin the evening for me or anything like that. So how did your night go? Was there a big turnout?”

  Molly had been working at a party last night—another family-oriented Christmas party, this one at the firehouse. She had agreed to manage it on her own, so that Betty could go out with Alex again. But she did look a little tired, Betty thought.

  “It was fun. You know the firefighters—they’re happy with whatever you give them. Oh . . . that Santa guy was there. You know, the one who jumped the van for you last week?”

  “I remember,” Betty said blandly. As if her memory needed any major jogging to remember Nathan. “Did you talk to him?” she asked curiously.

  “I don’t think he remembered me from last Sunday. But I thanked him again for helping you out. He definitely remembered you,” Molly added.

  Betty felt a little ping in her chest. “He did? What did he say?”

  Molly shrugged. She was mixing the spicy peanut sauce for the noodles. “I’m not sure. I think he asked where you were or something like that.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  Molly stirred up the bowl of sauce, took a taste, and added a dash more curry powder. “I said you had the night off and were probably out on a date somewhere.”

  “You did? What did he say when you said that?” Betty didn’t mean to make a big deal out of this small, careless remark, but why did Molly have to put it that way?

  Molly shrugged again and added some chopped green onion. “I’m sorry. Am I missing something here? I mean, it’s not like you’re worried about what Santa Claus thinks, are you?”

  Molly sounded so certain, Betty couldn’t say what she was thinking. Yes, I do like Nathan and probably would go out with him if he asked me. Card-carrying Santa and all.

  “It’s nothing. Forget it,” Betty said. “Nathan’s a really nice guy. I might even go out with him if he asked. Maybe just once, out of curiosity,” she added. “But I bet he’s already involved with someone.”

  “And you’re involved with someone, too. Or practically,” Molly pointed out. “I’m just so excited that you’ve finally met someone you like and really click with. A guy who’s a real catch. I have a good feeling about this, Betty. I really do.”

  Maybe Molly was right, Betty thought. Maybe her relationship with Alex was going to evolve into something serious. Sometimes friends could sense these things more clearly than the people involved.

  Besides, what was the difference if Nathan Daley thought she had a boyfriend? No difference at all. She might be curious about a professional Santa, but she definitely needed to be with a more motivated, professional-track sort of man. He didn’t have to be a millionaire or the CEO of a huge corporation, but he had to possess a certain amount of polish and maturity. Nathan was clearly lacking in all those categories. Which was very unfortunate, she thought with a sigh.

  But it was interesting to learn that he had asked Molly about her. Betty couldn�
��t deny that.

  THE CHURCH ALWAYS BECAME MORE CROWDED AROUND THE HOLIDAYS, Lucy noticed. She and the boys were only a few minutes late to Sunday morning service, but it was already hard to find a seat. Tucker, who was serving as a deacon, met her at the back of the sanctuary and showed them to a row where they found three seats. Emily Warwick; her husband, Dan Forbes; and their little girl, Jane moved over to make room. Emily gave Lucy a big smile hello. Emily was pretty down-to-earth, Lucy thought. She had been mayor of the town for over ten years now, and the only real opposition to her reign had been Charlie. She could have been snootier or held a grudge, but Emily still ate in the Clam Box several times a week and always stopped Lucy to have a chat whenever they ran into each other.

  Charlie was at the diner this morning, working. Lucy wished he would come to church with her more often. She thought Reverend Ben’s sermons offered a lot to think about, ideas that might influence her husband’s negative attitudes for the better. She sometimes tried to recap the sermons for him, but the only recaps that interested Charlie were for his favorite sports teams.

  It was the second Sunday of Advent, and they had arrived in time to see the lighting of the Advent candles. The four large blue Advent candles were arranged on the altar in a pine wreath. Each Sunday in Advent, in preparation for Christmas, another candle was lit and special scripture was read aloud. Reverend Ben would invite a family in the congregation to come up and perform the ceremony. This week the Sawyer family was on the altar. Jack and Julie Sawyer ran the Christmas tree farm just outside of town. Julie had just had a baby, a little girl they had named Madeline, and they also had two other children: Julie’s daughter from her first marriage, Kate, who was about six now, Lucy guessed; and Jack’s grown son, David, who had served in the Middle East and was now attending college. It was nice to see David doing so well. He had come home from the army in bad shape. That was last Christmas. But now, here he was, standing tall beside his fiancée, Christine.

  Jack and Julie couldn’t have looked prouder or more grateful for their many blessings. Lucy watched as Jack lifted Kate and let her light the large blue candle with a long, thin taper.

  Lucy wasn’t sure why, but this was one tradition that touched her and helped her anticipate the holidays. Not with the dread of shopping and cooking and all the other chores. But with a warm, peaceful outlook and appreciation of the better side of Christmas, the warmth of family ties, the promise of spiritual renewal, and goodwill toward all.

  She knew she had so much to be grateful for, but sometimes she did feel a yawning lack in her life, in her marriage mainly. It seemed different when the kids were younger. Or maybe their needs had always distracted her from the truth: she and Charlie were just so different. Mostly, she just accepted that challenge as part of their relationship. No marriage was perfect or without challenges. But sometimes it seemed as if that single flaw was all she could see.

  Lucy quickly turned her thoughts away from such dangerous ground and, instead, tried to focus on the service. Reverend Ben was making announcements about upcoming events. The annual Christmas Fair still needed volunteers. Lucy usually helped out but didn’t think she would have the time this year, not with Zoey in the house.

  The service continued. Lucy’s mind wandered a bit, but she did enjoy Reverend Ben’s sermon, which was about keeping holiday madness to a minimum.

  “Have you noticed how the trend these days is to have fewer and fewer ingredients in things?” he began. “I was in the supermarket the other day, and it seemed that all my favorite foods—soups and ice cream and breakfast cereal—all had new labels, boasting about how few ingredients they now contained. ‘Only five ingredients!’ the soup can shouted at me. But the ice cream carton topped that one. ‘Only three here, my friend. Try to beat that one.’”

  Lucy chuckled along with the rest of the congregation. Reverend Ben always mixed a little humor in his message.

  “Seriously, it seems we’re all interested in keeping it simple these days. In getting back to basics, whole foods and natural ingredients, from pet food to perfume. I’d like to propose that this year, we all approach Christmas with the same agenda. A five—or even three—ingredient Christmas. Just the basic, most meaningful and spiritually nutritious elements of the holiday. And toss out all the fillers and additives,” he advised.

  Lucy liked that idea. It not only made her smile, it made sense to her, too.

  Reverend Ben went on to describe just what he meant, and Lucy found herself agreeing with him. It was true that you could get caught up in all the extras and miss the most important parts of Christmas. She was going to try hard to keep her focus this year and follow her minister’s advice.

  Taking in Zoey might seem like a burden Lucy didn’t need at this time of year, but it was really one of the most important ingredients of the season, Lucy realized. Reaching out and helping someone who was less fortunate. That’s what Christmas was all about, wasn’t it?

  Soon after the sermon, it was time for “Joys and Concerns,” a chance for the congregation to share the happy moments in their lives as well as their challenges. There were the usual announcements about grandchildren being born and anniversaries and birthdays, as well as prayer requests for family members and friends who were ill.

  Lucy raised her hand, deciding to talk about Zoey. When Reverend Ben recognized her, she said, “I’d like you to keep a young girl named Zoey in your prayers. She’s having a difficult time right now. She’s lost touch with her family and is in between foster homes. She’s also been very sick. Please pray for her health and ask that she be placed with a loving family who will take care of her.”

  Reverend Ben cast Lucy a sympathetic glance. “Yes, we will remember her, Lucy. Thank you.”

  He turned away and called on someone in the back of the church. Lucy recognized Sam Morgan, who was a builder and carpenter in town. Sam didn’t get along with Charlie very well, but Lucy still liked him.

  “I just heard this morning that the Three Village Food Pantry had a big flood last night. A pipe broke in the basement, and a lot of their supplies and practically everything they had stored for a Christmas charity project was lost. Not just food but gifts they collected to give to needy families. So they’re going to need a lot of donations to keep running during the holidays, and I hope our church can help out in some way.”

  “Thanks for letting us know about that, Sam. I hadn’t heard that news yet,” Reverend Ben said. “The deaconate should take this up at their next meeting and see what we can do to help.”

  Lucy knew that charity. She often brought donations there, from her house and from the diner. She would ask Charlie if he had anything extra in the kitchen that she could bring over. There might be a case of soup or chili. It sounded as if any donation would be helpful.

  When the service ended, Lucy wanted to join the line of people who were filing out through the center doors of the sanctuary, waiting to greet Reverend Ben. But she glanced at her watch and decided to get back home to Zoey, who was probably awake by now.

  BETTY WAS THE FIRST TO ARRIVE AT THE SHOP ON MONDAY MORNING. She was surprised that she’d beat Molly in but then saw the message light on the phone and hit the button.

  Molly reported that she would be in late. She needed to run up to Newburyport to meet with a client who was planning a big wedding for this coming spring. There was some sudden crisis that had to be worked out. “I must have been a psychotherapist in a past life to end up with this job,” Molly complained.

  Betty had to laugh. She knew Molly was only venting. Molly was usually wonderful with their clients, satisfying all their whims and going to the limit to understand and create their personal vision of the event. She really was a “catering therapist,” if anyone could claim the title.

  Sonia and their other part-time helpers wouldn’t be in today at all. Betty didn’t mind. She liked having the shop to herself at times. She had been a full partner ever since joining the business four years back, but in some ways, the
shop still felt like Molly’s domain, especially since she was the star of the kitchen.

  But Betty liked to putter around in the kitchen, too, when she had the chance. Molly had printed out an interesting new chili recipe, getting a jump start on the Super Bowl party orders that would hopefully save them from the postholiday, winter wasteland.

  The recipe called for ground turkey and red kidney beans. They had the ingredients on hand but not enough beans. Well, they had some black beans, Betty noticed. She actually liked black beans better than the red and decided she would do a little variation.

  Live large, Betty. You have the kitchen to yourself today.

  Betty decided to try a small batch as a taste test. Molly would be back around noon, and she could try it then. Betty’s son, Brian, had always loved chili when he was little, and now she wondered if he still liked it. If this recipe turned out well, she would make a batch for him. They saw each other so infrequently now, she didn’t even know what he liked to eat. That made Betty a little sad. But he would be here soon, flying into Boston before Christmas, and would be visiting with her for at least a week. Plenty of time to get reacquainted with his preferences again.

  As much as she looked forward to having Brian with her, the plan made her nervous, too. It had been so long since they had spent that much time together, just the two of them. And he was a grown man now, about to be engaged. He and Tina had met in college, in Chicago, but Tina’s family lived in Concord, about two hours from Cape Light. So now Betty was going to meet her son’s future bride. Another milestone in her life. As if facing her fiftieth birthday in February wasn’t enough.

  “Life just keeps happening,” Betty murmured to herself as she began working on the chili. Cooking was a calming activity for her, and her worries were soon replaced by her need to focus on chopping onions and measuring ingredients.

  Once the chili was assembled, she left it to simmer and went into the small office, turning to her main role at Willoughby Fine Foods. She answered some phone calls, checked over the staff schedules, opened the mail, and checked their cash flow.