A Christian Christmas (Book #1 Andersen Brothers series)

by Pat Simmons

  The brothers’ firm helped entrepreneurs get funding for small business startups and expansion, then they assisted in getting their products mass produced in the U.S. and market them in non-traditional ways like infomercials, product demonstrations at conferences and web seminars.

  “What?” Christian didn’t appreciate the interruption.

  “Do you think we can have your attention for maybe, say… ten minutes?” Nathan asked.

  Sitting up straight, Christian cleared his throat. “I’m listening.”

  “How nice of you. Now, this holiday could be just as hard on people as it was during last year’s recession. We’ve fasted and prayed. Now it’s time to be the wise men for Jesus.”

  Christian nodded. “Right. I’ve upped the donation of food to area pantries, so there will be more Thanksgiving dinners on the table. Our business associates have even agreed to continue their company food drives until the first of the year.”

  David stroked his jaw. “Maybe God will place it in some of their hearts to keep it going year round.”

  “This year, we’ve allocated a couple thousands of dollars for us to hand out. I added a scripture on the front of the money envelopes so there would be no doubt God blessed them. Last year, our deeds in the name of Jesus just got lumped together with secret Santas,” Nathan said.

  The secret Santa concept was one of Christian’s pet peeves. Didn’t the scripture say render what’s Caesar’s to Caesar and what is God’s to God? Christian wanted God to get props, especially this time of year.

  Nathan passed them a sample envelope, reciting the scripture. “Let everything that has breath, praise the Lord. As a servant of God, He told me to give this to you. Bless you.”

  “Excellent. I also like how you list all six verses of Psalm 150 on here just in case they don’t have a Bible,” Christian complimented as he scanned the red lettering on the white envelope. He bumped fists with each brother then stood abruptly, slapping his hands on the table. “Your ten minutes are up. Now if you two will excuse me.”

  “Whoa. Don’t you want to hear what David has planned for the children in foster care and shelters?” Nathan frowned as he separated the stack and handed Christian his share of envelopes, containing fifty or one hundred dollar bills.

  “No need. God has blessed us in whatever we do in His name, so I’m sure it will be phenomenal. Now,” he paused and checked the time on his smartphone, “I have some shopping to do.”

  “Again?” both brothers said in unison.

  “Something tells me that whatever you’re shopping for can’t be bought with cash.” David smirked.

  “Who needs cash when I’ve got Psalm 84: ‘No good thing will God withhold from those who walk up right before Him.’ Now I’m going shopping for my good thing.” Laughing, Christian walked out the boardroom.

  Chapter 4

  With Bethani beside her, Joy stood in the long, slow-moving line outside Hope of Salvation. She hoped the food pantry wouldn’t run out of the give-away boxes that contained all the makings to prepare a turkey dinner.

  A woman behind Joy whispered loudly to someone else. “I thought this line was for people who can’t afford to buy dinner. Some folks come from the suburbs to take from the poor.”

  Keeping her attitude in check, Joy held her tongue. She was tough enough to handle the rude, snide remarks hurled toward her, but she didn’t want to subject her niece to such ugliness. Am I supposed to look poor to be poor? Suits were standard attire for her line of work as a sales rep.

  All Joy was doing was playing the lopsided card game that God had dealt her. Not long ago, she was a rising star in her company, earning sixty thousand plus monthly bonuses. Joy could easily afford the four-bedroom home in the suburbs, even as a single mother.

  Prior to her sister’s children coming to live with her, Joy had a healthy savings account, plus an emergency fund. Over the past two years, she learned babies drain emergency funds and savings could easily be depleted.

  The burden of three extra mouths was heavy, not so much financially, but mentally. It was for the children’s sakes Joy got up in the morning and clocked in at work for her base salary. Her bonuses decreased, because she could no longer devote the extra time to develop leads. Any hope for advancement probably wouldn’t come until all four children graduated college.

  Mrs. Thomas agreed to watch the small children an hour or so longer than normal. Against her better judgment and for selfish reasons, Joy picked up Bethani from school to keep her company. Unfortunately, being here was yet one more reminder of how her aunt was struggling.

  Joy considered herself a good budgeter, but when the two youngest children became sick that week, the copays and prescriptions dipped into the extra grocery money she had put aside to prepare a Thanksgiving feast. Because of the children, she was not too ashamed to accept a handout when she needed one. And this was one of those times.

  “Don’t worry about them, Auntie,” Bethani whispered. “Grownups can be bullies, too. I ignore the kids at school like you taught me and pray for them like Mom always reminded me.”

  It was a good thing her nieces and nephew got their religion from Regina; Joy barely touched her Bible. Hugging her niece tighter, Joy nodded as they stepped ahead. Evidently, the reward was worth the wait, judging from the grins on recipients’ faces as they left the building. Some struggled to carry the boxes that contained a frozen turkey and other ingredients to go along with it. Joy wished they would hurry as the temperature began to drop. She adjusted the knit cap over Bethani’s head when she heard someone yell her name. The male voice was unforgettable.

  “Joy, is that you?”

  Twirling around, Joy sucked in some cold air and exhaled. “Christian.” She admired his confident gait even carrying boxes. He didn’t look like someone who needed charity, but neither did she as some in the crowd had pointed out.

  Christian’s smile grew, radiating warmth with every step toward her. Although she longed for him in her dreams, she highly doubted she would run into him again or so soon. Invading her personal space, he gave her his full attention. Fascinated with the hues of brown in his eyes, she berated her dreams for not doing him justice. Despite him being bundled for the cold elements, Christian’s handsomeness could not be hidden under his hat.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” Christian mockingly scolded her.

  She chuckled. “I know. What is it about me in lines?”

  “Wait. On second thought, I like meeting you anywhere.” He winked.

  Pulling away from his stare, it dawned on Joy that she was not alone. “Oh, I’m sorry, Bethani. This is Mr. Andersen, the man responsible for that carton of ice cream.”

  Bethani danced on her tippy toes. “Oh thank you. Strawberry is my favorite.”

  Christian’s eyes twinkled. “Mine too. Nice to meet you, Bethani. You’re as beautiful as your mother.”

  “She’s my auntie.” Bethani grinned proudly, casting worshipping eyes on Joy.

  “I would have never guessed.” Christian seemed awestruck as he shifted the boxes in his arms as if they were lightweight.

  “It’s okay. People say that a lot. My mother is resting in Jesus until the trumpet sounds,” Bethani explained.

  Joy cleared her throat. Jesus was one of her niece’s favorite subjects. She could hear her sister quoting Matthew 19:14, But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven. Her faith had wavered as Regina’s sickness worsened. “My sister died a few years ago.”

  “In the Lord,” Bethani added as if that really made a difference.

  Christian’s expression glowed. He nodded at Bethani. The two seemed privy to something foreign to her. Joy quickly apologized for Bethani’s ramblings.

  “No need.” Christian glanced from the front of the line to the back. “It’s getting colder. I don’t want you and Bethani standing out here.”

  Why did his statement seem so personal to her ears. Maybe
it was wishful thinking.

  “Let me put this in the truck,” he said, referring to his packages. “Give me your address and I’ll have a box delivered to you.”

  She shivered from the uncertainty of what to do and the warmth that Christian took with him as he hurried away. Christian didn’t seem threatening, but she had small children to protect. Was she walking into a trap, or was it simply a kind gesture? It was getting chilly and she did need the turkey dinner giveaway.

  When Christian returned, he must have sensed her hesitation. “It’s okay. I’m one of the helpers. For those who can’t stand in line, we’re delivering the items to their doors.”

  Okay, she felt a tad better, but still…

  “Christian is not only my name, but I practice it, too. My intentions are honorable,” he said, lowering his voice, “especially where you’re concerned.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, then scribbled his cell phone number on the back.

  Accepting it, Joy scanned the information: Andersen Inventors, Investors, and Consultants, LLC: The least is the greatest of all. Okay, maybe he might be legit. Although the warm and fuzzy feeling returned, Joy had to be careful.

  “Hey, if you’re delivering, I’ll give you my address. My hands are starting to go numb,” a middle-age man butted in and blew on his hands for emphasis.

  “Me too,” shouted the woman with snide remarks from earlier. She ignited a chorus of others appealing to Christian.

  He seemed to take it in stride as he held up his arms to quiet the murmuring. “For those of you who don’t want to wait any longer, form a line over there and leave us your name, address and phone number. We can’t promise you what time, but you all will get your deliveries tonight.”

  Like a pied piper, a chunk of folks got out of line and followed Christian to a long folding table just outside the door of the medium-size warehouse converted into a food pantry/shelter. He waved to a group of teenagers and they stopped what they were doing to do his bidding.

  Bethani nudged me. “See Auntie, he’s an angel,” she whispered.

  “No, sweetie, he’s just a kind man.”

  Now Joy wished she had followed Christian to the delivery line, then he reappeared.

  “Trust me, Joy.” His demand was a soft caress to her numb ears. Depending on her instincts and hoping that she was not putting her family in harm’s way, Joy pulled out one of her business cards and scribbled her address on the back. Christian took her card and squeezed her fingers, but didn’t let go.

  “Come on.” He tugged her hand. “Let me escort you ladies to your vehicle.”

  “Okay.” Bethani shivered and clapped her mittened hands.

  During the brisk walk to her SUV, they made small talk. “That’s nice of you to volunteer.”

  “I wouldn’t be a Christian if I didn’t serve others.”

  Twice he had equated religion to his name. A few feet away, Joy deactivated the car alarm. He opened Bethani’s door, then hurried around to get hers. “I have to ask if there is a Mr. Knight.” His question was so faint, Joy doubted Bethani heard him.

  “My father.” If that was his way of asking if she was single, Joy gave him credit. He was smooth.

  Folding his arms, he waited while they buckled up, then drove off. On the half-hour drive to her house, Bethani sang the praises of Christian, talking about how nice he was. “And cute, too, Auntie.”

  Joy agreed, but dared not comment. Her dreams were about to get interesting with Christian acting as her knight in shining armor.

  Soon enough, Joy turned onto her street, activated the garage door opener, and glanced at Bethani. Somewhere between exiting off the highway and a few blocks from the neighborhood, her niece had started to doze. Joy gently nudged her. “We’re home.”

  When it registered, Bethani unbuckled and got out. Together, they entered the washroom from the garage, then walked into the kitchen. The house was quiet as the pair removed their coats. Usually the younger ones raced to her, vying for her attention after being at work all day, even her four-year-old niece who attended pre-school half a day. Joy sniffed at the lingering aroma, then spotted the covered pot on the stove; her babysitter/neighbor had prepared them dinner.

  Removing her boots, Joy padded in stocking feet across the kitchen’s hardwood floor to her great room. Instead of Mrs. Thomas and the children watching television, the TV was watching them. Joy snickered.

  Her neighbor stirred and looked up. She smiled at Joy, then slowly untangled her body from her charges so as not to disturb them. Childless, Mrs. Thomas didn’t need the money, but wanted to feel needed. The woman’s nieces and nephews who mooched off of her didn’t count. She had volunteered her services when the additional children came to live with Joy.

  They greeted each other with a loose hug as Joy ushered Mrs. Thomas into the kitchen. Bethani was at the table, pulling a book from her backpack even though it was a Friday evening. Studious was another one of her niece’s qualities. She stopped what she was doing and gave Mrs. Thomas a hug.

  Mrs. Thomas scanned the countertops and frowned. “Did they run out? So many people are hurting financially right now. You and the children are welcomed to share Thanksgiving with me.”

  Touched by her neighbor’s endless generosity, Joy smiled. “I was at your house last year. We agreed, this time you would be my guest—”

  “Mr. Andersen is delivering the food to our door,” Bethani explained. “Oops.” Looking sheepish, she apologized for interrupting.

  Lifting a brow, Joy crossed her arms. She still hadn’t gotten a handle on a menacing look. “Miss Blabbermouth, go wake the triplets up or they won’t want to go to sleep tonight.”

  “Who is Mr. Andersen?” Mrs. Thomas asked when Bethani was gone.

  Joy shrugged as if he was no big deal. “He’s one of the volunteers down at the pantry who offered to deliver boxes to those families who didn’t want to wait. He couldn’t guarantee us what time, but sometime tonight, so no cooking for you. I wish my parents were coming, but I can’t afford their airfare this year.” Her parents had retired to North Carolina five years earlier. When money had become tight for them, Joy had supplemented their income with a monthly check until her nieces and nephew became her sole responsibility.

  “Don’t you worry about it. Your turkey dinner is just the beginning of your blessings. God’s going to take care of you just like you take care of them babies. You’ll see.”

  Taking care of them is what Regina would have expected of her husband, Joy thought.

  “Who knows? Maybe the good Lord will send you a nice gentleman.”

  Christian came to mind. He was nice, handsome and something else she couldn’t quite describe. Maybe he didn’t balk at the mention of four children to be nice because he had no intentions of getting involved. It wasn’t as if she had time for anything else besides work and home.

  “I’m not holding my breath.” Joy grunted, then realized Christian took her breath away.

  “Anyway, thanks for inviting me. I guess I’ll head next door. I made a beef stew, and rolls are in the oven. The salad is in the fridge.”

  “Thank you.” As Joy walked her neighbor to the door, she scanned her spacious home to make sure it was as spotless as it could be with active normal children for when Christian dropped off her turkey dinner.

  A few hours later, reclining in the heated sun porch off the kitchen, Joy watched the children play in the makeshift playroom. When the doorbell echoed throughout the house, all activity ceased. The kids scrambled to the door, beating Joy and Bethani. As far as the children were concerned, anyone who rang the doorbell was their company, even the mailman.

  Joy finger combed her hair then straightened her oversized sweater. She exhaled to steady her heartbeat at the excitement of seeing Christian again. Bethani peeped out the window and told her a white van was out front.

  With a smile for Christian, Joy opened the door. Three older teenagers heaved boxes in their arms. “Hi. We’re from Ho
pe for Salvation Food Pantry with your delivery.”

  Was Christian waiting in the van? She didn’t see anyone. “Of course.” Joy stepped back to allow them entry. The children didn’t budge from their spots as they looked on with curiosity. “Move out the way,” Joy told them, shooing them away.

  Joy watched perplexed as the group made more than one trip. Instead of the two boxes filled with makings for stuffing, cans of cranberry sauce, strings beans, rolls and the turkey, she was surprised to see cereal, oatmeal, two loaves of bread and other staples. Wrapped in a separate bag next to the turkey was a gallon of strawberry ice cream.

  Bethani screamed her delight, which caused the smaller children to scream, too.

  As the volunteers were about to leave, Joy said. “Wow. Thank you so much. I didn’t know the pantry was giving away this much food.”

  “Every family will be stuffed on Thanksgiving Day, madam, but Mr. Andersen said you were supposed to get a double portion,” one volunteer explained.

  “He’s an angel.” Bethani giggled behind her.

  She hushed her niece. Once again, Christian’s generosity wowed her. She chided herself for thinking the worse of him instead of taking his sincerity at face value.

  “Yeah, since he and his family run the pantry and are our parents’ boss, we do as he says,” a stocky young man added.

  “Well, we’d better go. Other families are waiting for us. Have a happy Thanksgiving,” the first volunteer added on his way out the door waving to the children.

  “Where is Christian?” she had to ask.

  “He’s out delivering meals on the other side of town.”

  Thanking them again, Joy closed her door. In one day her emotions ranged from humiliated to humble as she headed to the kitchen to put away the food. It was enough to last beyond the holiday. Regina would want her to thank God for making a way and Joy agreed teary eyed. He’s the boss? The pantry is family-sponsored? Who is this man? “If Christian is an angel, thank You, Lord, for sending him my way.”