Until they started getting close. He could easily envision himself kissing her under it.
He could also envision her slapping his face when he said, “By the way, my real name is Guy Hightower.”
He had to tell her.
But not yet.
The dining room table was laden with plates bearing fussy little sandwiches and cookies and a bowl of fruit salad. Christmassy plates and napkins sat on one end of the table and a teapot and more Christmas china on another, along with a bowl of punch. Her friends Bettina and Kate were there, along with an older woman named Jean, who, he learned, was one of the daughters of Tillie, his fellow fruitcake judge.
“Mom was a little tired,” she explained, “and one of our waitresses called in sick, so Annette’s holding down the fort.” She looked Guy over speculatively as Livi made the introductions. New boyfriend?
Probably never.
The doorbell rang and more people flooded in, all bringing good cheer and laughter. It was a small, simple gathering, nothing as extravagant as what Hightower Enterprises would put on. No free booze, no fancy ice sculptures.
No pretention, no hidden agendas. Not a single fake.
And no leeches. The glacier got bigger and as soon as he could, Guy claimed the need to make some phone calls and slipped away.
* * *
“I see you hung the mistletoe,” Kate said to Livi as she and Kate and Bettina put away the luncheon leftovers. “I wonder what prompted that,” she teased.
“I put up mistletoe every year,” Livi said.
“I didn’t see it when I came over the other night,” Bettina said.
“Quit playing dumb and tell us about this man,” Kate commanded. “Is he as fabulous as he seems?”
“Yes,” Livi said, and put the last of the mini quiches in a plastic container. “He’s smart and fun and kind.” And a wonderful kisser. If she’d had more on hand, she’d have hung mistletoe in every room in the house.
“And not bad on the eyes, either,” said Kate. “Although I bet he looks a little banged up today.”
“That was some fight,” put in Bettina. “I can’t blame Morris for being jealous, though. Joe is in a class all by himself.”
“It looks like Santa was listening when Annette made her request. He’s coming through with the perfect man for you.”
It sure looked like it.
* * *
By four o’clock, the last of the deliveries had been made to Bob’s Auto Repair and there was still no sign of that serpentine belt for the Maserati. Morris was ready to put a fist through the wall.
He called Foreign Auto Parts and got Gustav, the manager. “So where’s that serpentine belt? You promised me we’d have it by today.”
“We got behind,” said Gustav.
More like somebody screwed up. Morris swore. “I need it, Gustav. I’ve got a guy trying to get to Idaho for Christmas.”
“What’s he doing way up there?” Gustav demanded.
Messing up my life. “Never mind that. What are you doing down there? Are you gonna get that belt to me or not?”
“I’ll get it to you already.”
“No more screwing around. Overnight it.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I mean it. I want that thing tomorrow.” Joe Ford, whoever he was, had messed up enough stuff. No way was Morris going to let him hang around to mess up Christmas.
* * *
Dinner at the Berg house wasn’t much easier for Guy than the luncheon had been.
“Looks like you’re still stuck with us,” Mr. Berg said.
Stuck. If only Guy could get out that confession that was stuck in his throat.
In spite of the guilt, he wound up hanging around after dinner, playing cards again, this time with both Livi and her father.
“Really?” she’d said eagerly when her dad had suggested a game of hearts.
“The least we can do for this poor man is keep him entertained,” said Mr. Berg. “I’m sorry that part didn’t come in today, Joe.”
“We’ll have to help you make the best of it,” Livi said.
“You’ve both been more than generous. I appreciate all you’re doing for me,” Guy said. Was he ever going to find the right time to tell Livi who he was?
Not now, he decided. For sure not now, he concluded later when it was only the two of them, sitting at the table drinking hot chocolate, then when it was the two of them kissing under the mistletoe. Not tonight.
The next morning was Christmas Eve, good deed day. And it looked like Guy would be around to be part of it all. That should help melt the glacier. Maybe it was a good thing his car still wasn’t fixed. It bought him time to improve his image.
“Where are you getting a truck today if Morris can’t help you?” Mr. Berg asked his daughter as they ate breakfast.
Can’t help her? So that was the story she was giving. Guy wondered what she’d told her dad about his bruises and skinned knuckles. That he walked into a wall? With his face and his fist?
“Bettina’s husband is off from school and they’ve got a minivan. Some of our other volunteers have trucks. We’ll be fine.”
It looked like Guy was going to have to share distribution duties and Livi’s attention with another man. Darn.
It turned out to be his lucky day, though. Bettina wasn’t feeling good and her husband, Danny, had baby duty. “Sorry, I can’t help,” he told Livi when they came over to pick up the minivan.
“It’s okay,” she said to him. “Joe and I can handle it.”
“Don’t be surprised if you get every woman in town wanting to give you ice for your face or a cookie to make you feel better,” Danny said to Guy. “You’ll probably get some pointers on your fighting technique if any of the guys are home. Old man Jones will give you some, for sure.”
He could hardly wait.
“It is a small town,” Livi explained.
And if word of who he was got out they’d all probably tie him to a tree somewhere with nothing but a Santa hat on his head and let him freeze to death.
Meanwhile, though, he’d get to spend the morning with Livi. He half wished that belt would come in too late to fix the car that day. Then he’d have to spend Christmas Eve with the Berg family, one last happy holiday movie scene before going back to the real world.
They said goodbye to Danny, then headed for Christmas from the Heart headquarters to pick up Christmas stockings, Livi in her car, Guy following behind in the minivan. A minivan. He was in a minivan. Good Lord. He thought of the movie they’d watched the other night. Was this how all men ended up, driving minivans, following wherever the woman they loved led?
Not that he loved Livi. He wasn’t that far gone yet. He’d just met her. He was fascinated, infatuated, wanted to be with her and be part of her life. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t at the edge of the love pool anymore. He was wading right on in, heading for the deep end as fast as he could.
Livi’s office was above Tillie’s tearoom, so naturally, they had to stop in and say hi. “It’s so good to see you again, Joe,” gushed Tillie, giving his arm a friendly pat. Then she took in his bruised face. “Oh my. What happened to you?”
“I fell,” he said quickly before Livi could go into detail. No lie. He had fallen, more than once, making a complete fool of himself.
“I have just the thing for you.” Tillie moved to a long shelf behind the checkout counter that was lined with glass jars filled with loose tea. “I call it Tillie’s Healing Comfort,” she said over her shoulder as she took down a jar. “It has comfrey, hops and white oak bark in it, and it’s very good for bruising.” She spooned some into a lavender-colored net bag, then handed it over. “Steep this, then put it on the bruise. You should drink it, also.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“I think I’ll take some of that, too,” said Li
vi, and he thought about her bruised thigh. He was hazardous to this woman’s health. On so many levels.
Tillie stocked Livi up on chocolate mint tea as well, and then they proceeded upstairs to her office, where boxes filled with stuffed red felt Christmas stockings occupied every inch of space. The boxes were labeled: family with girls, family with boys, girls and boys, single.
One box was filled with cat toys and dog chews. “We add those at the last minute,” Livi explained. “For homes where people have pets. You never know when someone’s gotten a puppy for Christmas,” she added happily.
Guy wondered if he’d ever get a dog again. Maybe he would. A golden retriever. Or a cockapoo.
“After we load these we’ll load our turkeys and hams from Tillie’s cooler, where she’s been thawing them for us,” Livi explained.
Looking at all the boxes of Christmas stockings he wondered if she was being realistic about how many deliveries they’d be able to make in a morning. Until, a moment later, the older woman he’d met the day before walked in along with another woman he assumed was her sister, Annette.
“So, you’re the new man in town,” Annette said after they’d been introduced, and she, too, eyed him speculatively.
“Only for a while longer,” he said. And if Bentley had anything to do with it, that while would be as short as possible.
More volunteers arrived—a couple of older men with trucks and two couples that he’d also met at the luncheon—and everyone got to work. They’d carried most of the boxes to the waiting vehicles, bumping shoulders on their way in and out, when Kate and her boyfriend arrived in a truck.
“Did we miss all the heavy lifting?” Tom joked as he got out.
“Hardly. We still have turkeys and hams to load,” Livi informed him.
Once he saw what was in the walk-in cooler, Guy did a mental count of Christmas stockings versus meat. “Looks like you’re not going to have enough for everyone.”
“Not this year,” Livi said with a scowl, and he knew why.
“Well, I guess we’d better get started,” he said before she could say anything. “But first, I need to swing by the grocery store. You go ahead and start loading these in the trucks. I’ll be right back.” No way did he want her next to him when he pulled out his charge card.
Guy drove the minivan to the local Safeway where he bought out an entire case worth of fresh turkeys and two dozen hams. It was a load and he enlisted a couple of baggers to help him.
“Wow,” said the checker when they started unloading the meat. “Are you buying turkeys for everyone in town?”
“Something like that,” he said. “It’s for Christmas from the Heart.”
“Aww.” She smiled at him. “Say, I saw you Sunday at the fruitcake competition. You were one of the judges.”
He had a moment of panic. Had she entered a cake? He knew she hadn’t been one of the winners. He remembered who they were.
“Uh, yeah,” he said warily. “And you are...?”
“I’m Suz. I didn’t enter,” she said, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I suck in the kitchen.” Then she frowned, taking in his face. “You need ice for those bruises. Alex, get some party ice for the man. On me,” she added.
He thanked her and wondered how she thought he was going to drive with a giant bag of ice on his face.
“And, Billy, grab me a box of plastic gallon freezer bags. Put some in a bag and hold it to your face when you’re driving,” she instructed Guy.
Again, he thanked her, then pulled out his credit card.
She took it, looked at it and frowned. “I thought your name was Joe.”
“That’s my middle name,” he improvised, and she nodded and rang up the sale.
The baggers helped him rearrange the boxes in the van and squeeze in the mountain of meat. Following Suz the checker’s instructions, they put some ice in a baggie for him, then tossed the rest—assuring him they wouldn’t tell Suz—and sent him on his way, the minivan stuffed with turkeys... The biggest one of all behind the wheel.
* * *
“That part’s not here yet,” Morris snarled into the phone. “How’d you send it, by mule?”
“Lighten up, Morris,” said Gustav. “It should be there by two.”
“It better be,” Morris said. Joe Ford was out with Livi, doing what he should have been doing. If he didn’t get Ford out of town soon, what else would he be doing with Livi that Morris should have been doing with her?
* * *
Guy got back to Christmas from the Heart headquarters as everyone was loading up the last of the meat from Tillie’s cooler. “I’ve got more if you can fit some in your truck,” he said to Tom.
“Sure,” Tom said.
Guy got out and slid open the door.
Tom blinked. “What the hell?”
“I stopped by the store.”
“Whoa. I guess you did. Hey, Livi,” he called, “Santa just came to town.”
She joined them at the minivan and gaped. “Where did all these come from?”
Guy was aware of Tom’s assessing gaze on him. Trying to get lucky, huh?
He shrugged, feeling embarrassingly aware of his sizzling face. “It looked like you were pretty short on turkeys. There’s ham, too.”
Livi put a hand to her mouth and let out a little sob. “How can I ever thank you?”
Don’t hate me.
“I bet he can think of something,” Tom said with a smirk.
“You can thank him later. Let’s divide these up and get this show on the road,” Kate said.
They did, and then they were off, turkeys and hams equally distributed between the volunteers and everyone heading to a different location. Several went to the nearby towns, leaving Livi and Guy and the sisters in charge of Pine River.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” Livi said to him. “Now you’ll be able to meet some of the townspeople.”
And maybe earn some points. Maybe.
Their first stop was the Williams family residence. Three boys, looking like they ranged from ten on down to five, had been watching at the living room window of the little cracker box of a house. Seeing Livi and Guy coming up the walk they disappeared and a moment later were at the door, the littlest one jumping up and down like an excited puppy. They reminded Guy of his brothers and himself when they were kids, wound up and raring for Santa to come. He caught sight of a mangy tree in the corner, probably one bought from a tree lot as a last-minute bargain. But it had been decorated with paper chains and popcorn strings. A few small ornaments shaped like cars and trucks hung on the boughs but most of the ornaments looked handmade by kids. A small collection of presents sat under the tree. Looking at the boxes, Guy doubted any of them contained an iPad or a Nintendo Switch. Still, these kids were all smiles.
“Hi, Miss Berg!” sang the little one. “Have you got a stocking for us?”
“I sure do,” Livi said, handing him one she’d taken from the box marked Family, boys.
The mother appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “Thanks, Livi. The boys live for this stocking.”
An older man was right behind her. The grandpa figure. “Hello there, Livi. Did you bring my girl a turkey?”
“I sure did,” she said, and Guy handed it over.
“Good,” the old man said, taking it. “I’m making mashed potatoes and my famous biscuits to go with it.”
“And tonight we’re making cookies for Santa,” said the older boy. His brothers had run off to the living room to plunder the stocking, but he lowered his voice all the same. “I know there’s no Santa, but I like the cookies.”
“Don’t we all,” Livi said, and mussed his hair.
“Saw you the other night at Family Tree, son,” the older man said to Guy. “You got to remember to keep your hands up, protect your face. Never mind all that Kun
g Fu shit. All somebody has to do is grab your foot and you’re down for the count.”
Oh yeah, everyone was an expert. Guy thanked him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Livi sighed as they made their way back down the walk. “Everyone’s going to be talking about that fight for the next six weeks.”
Guy shrugged. “Or until they find something new to talk about.” Okay, he didn’t want to go there.
“Yes, that’s the nature of small town life, I guess.”
“Yeah, small minds,” Guy muttered.
“We don’t all have small minds,” she said, sounding a little huffy.
“I hope not. Sometimes, it’s easy to only see your corner of the world, though, Livi, and not the bigger picture.” Which was what you had to see when you ran a company.
Was he making excuses for himself? Maybe. But maybe he’d been being hard on himself, too. When a man was hot for a woman it tended to scramble his thinking.
So did seeing so many people in need and so grateful for something as simple as a turkey and a stocking stuffed with trinkets.
“Thank you so much,” said Mrs. Newton, peeping inside her stocking when they dropped it off. “I love these little scented soaps.” She pulled out a chew toy and showed it to her little dog. “Look here, Juniper. Here’s something for you, too.” The dog rose on its hindquarters, pawing the air and barking. “Not until Christmas morning,” she said, then told Guy, “I always like to wait until morning to open presents. It makes the fun last so much longer.”
Like the Williamses, she didn’t have much under her tree. He couldn’t help wondering how long her fun would last. The house looked festive, though, with candles and little angel figurines scattered around the living room. He caught a whiff of cinnamon. It sure smelled like Christmas.
“Are you coming to the community Christmas dinner?” Livi asked her.
“Oh yes, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Don’t forget, dinner’s at two,” Livi said.
“I won’t, dear,” Mrs. Newton said. “I’m making a pie to bring.”
Christmas from the Heart Page 17
