“Okay,” Leo said with an excited giggle. He rang the doorbell and they hurried down the steps and around the corner of the house, Leo laughing wildly as they went. They stood for a moment in breathless silence, waiting for the door to open.
Nothing happened.
“Why isn’t he coming?” Leo asked.
He had to be home. He hardly ever left his house.
Sienna poked her nose around the side in time to see Cratchett standing in the doorway, looking suspiciously around. Their gazes locked for a moment, hers embarrassed, his awkward. Then she pulled back around the corner and pressed herself against the garage door.
Was that a chuckle she’d just heard? Well, well. She peered around the corner again and saw the door shut. The chocolates were gone. The grinch had been fed.
She smiled and held out her hand to her son. “Let’s go home.”
“Did Mr. Cratchett like the candy?” Leo asked.
“I think he did.”
It was a simple little act of kindness, but the harvest of happiness that she got from it was huge and she feasted on it all evening long. Muriel Sterling-Wittman was surely onto something.
* * *
The happy texts and pictures from Dot and Arnie kept on coming. Muriel sat on her couch with her morning coffee and scowled at the latest batch of pictures. One was of Arnie and Dot seated at a dining table with six other people, all with glasses of champagne, toasting whoever was manning the camera.
How nice Arnie looked in his new blue sweater. He’d put on a little weight from all those German pastries he’d been enjoying, and the blue in the sweater brought out the blue in his eyes.
To her surprise, Muriel felt a flutter in her chest looking at him.
He looked downright jaunty in the green German Alpine hat he was wearing in another picture, and there went the unexpected flutter again. He stood in front of a booth filled with candles and luminarias, many of which Muriel would have happily purchased. If she’d had the good sense to go on the trip.
When we got back to the ship tonight, the crew greeted us with hot chocolate, Dot said in one of her texts.
Never mind the hot chocolate. When was Dot going to follow up on that earlier text and spill who she was falling in love with? It didn’t have to be Arnie. There had to be other single men on that boat. It couldn’t be Arnie.
But here came a new picture, proof that it could, indeed, be Arnie. Someone had captured him and Dot in action on the dance floor. She was wearing that flashy red sequined dress and Arnie was in a tux. They were waltzing like a pair of contestants on Dancing with the Stars and looking oh, so happy with each other.
Showing off our new steps, Arnie explained. There’s a couple on the ship who teach ballroom dancing and they gave us some pointers. Dot’s a natural.
Dot’s a natural. Yes, Muriel had seen Dot in action before at the annual Fourth of July street dance and she had the moves. But since when did Arnie like to dance? Since he started hanging out with Dot, apparently. Perhaps Dot wasn’t the only one falling in love.
Muriel studied the picture, trying to analyze the smiles on her friends’ faces. Were those the smiles of two people who had stumbled into love or were they simply the smiles of two friends enjoying themselves on the dance floor?
You two look great, she texted Dot.
Okay, supportive response done. Now she needed info. So, who are you having a shipboard romance with? Did you fall for the captain? she added. There, a light, teasing little question. Then she couldn’t help adding, Has Arnie met anyone?
Dot didn’t say. In fact, she didn’t say anything. Muriel got no reply to her text. What did that mean? Were they being coy? Were they waiting to make a big announcement when they got home? Was Arnie worried about hurting her?
Except for Arnie to be worried about hurting her he’d have to know she cared. And how could he have known when she hadn’t even known?
Oh, what stupid timing on her part! Why couldn’t she have realized how much she cared two weeks ago?
She went through the rest of her day under a gray cloud. By evening it had descended, wrapping her in a thick fog of misery. She wanted nothing more than to stay home and pretend she was a hermit. But her calendar decreed otherwise. That night she had a speaking engagement.
She made her way to the Icicle Falls Public Library, wishing all the way that she’d never agreed to give a talk. Discover the Joys of the Holidays with Author Muriel Sterling, the poster hanging in the entryway promised. In her present frame of mind, she’d be much better at helping everyone explore how to be cranky. Temperatures were supposed to drop. Maybe nobody would want to come out on a wintry weeknight and she could turn around and go home, snuggle under a blanket on the couch, eat chocolate and feel sorry for herself.
No such luck. The library parking lot was packed. She got out of her car and made her way into the library. Millie, the librarian, had been watching for her and greeted her enthusiastically. In honor of the evening’s festivities, Millie had donned a red dress and was wearing dangly earrings shaped like Christmas packages. Muriel was dressed in black. Maybe Millie should give the talk.
“We’ve got a full house,” she informed Muriel. “Everyone’s anxiously waiting to hear what you have to say.”
Muriel managed a smile. “I hope I won’t disappoint them.”
“Of course you won’t. Everyone loves you.”
All except for a certain someone, who had defected and was now roaming Germany with Dot. Muriel murmured her thanks and let Millie lead her into the room reserved for events.
It was, indeed, a full house. In addition to several new faces, she saw a lot of familiar ones. Stacy Thomas and the members of her book club were present. One of the members, Jen Armstrong, pregnant with her second baby, waved enthusiastically at Muriel. Jen claimed that Muriel’s book Simplicity changed her life, and she never missed a book signing or an opportunity to hear Muriel speak. Missy Truman, who now ran Sleeping Lady Salon, was clutching Muriel’s book as if it were a first-edition classic. Vance Fish, who owned a bookstore in Seattle where Muriel had made many appearances, gave her a nod and a wink. Pat was present, along with Sienna, and they would be selling A Guide to Happy Holidays to anyone who hadn’t yet gotten a copy. Beth Mallow was there, and so was Olivia, along with her two daughters-in-law. Stefanie Stahl was seated next to Cass Masters and her husband and clutching a copy of the book, and Janice Lind and her circle of friends were present, as well. And, of course, Muriel’s daughters had all come to offer their support.
“I’m sure our guest speaker needs no introduction,” Millie began, once the crowd had settled down. “Many of us have known Muriel all our lives, and I’m sure everyone here has gotten a chocolate fix at Sweet Dreams many times.” This sent a ripple of chuckles through the crowd. “Muriel has been both a good friend and an inspiration to so many of us over the years.”
An inspiration? She didn’t feel very inspiring tonight. She sure talked a good talk, but these days that was as far as it went.
“And since she’s started writing, she’s expanded her circle of influence and touched many more hearts and lives,” Millie continued. “We’re so lucky she consented to spend some time with us tonight and share her insights on how to have a happy holiday. Please welcome Muriel Sterling.”
The fraud. How on earth was she supposed to talk about making the holidays happy when she was anything but?
Practice what you preach and start focusing on what’s good in your life! It was easy to do when she looked out at her three beautiful daughters, smiling encouragingly at her, not to mention all the friends who were present.
Except...two are missing. Off together, falling in love.
She reined in her wandering thoughts and pulled out her notes. “Thank you all for coming. I see so many familiar faces and I can’t help but be gr
ateful that God has put so many wonderful people in my life. And that brings me to my first point. Attitude is everything. To really appreciate the joys of this season I think it’s important to go into it with a grateful heart.”
Yes, grateful that Arnie and Dot are having fun without you.
Muriel frowned and consulted her notes. Where was she? Oh, yes, grateful. “Sometimes we focus on the wrong things.”
Like Arnie and Dot.
“And that can make us lose sight of the good things.” She went on to talk about her ugly tree and how she and some of her friends had decided to try to see the best in other people. Olivia wiped at a corner of her eye and Pat nodded in agreement.
“That’s your foundation. If your attitude is right, then the other aspects of the holiday begin to fall into place.”
Remember that!
She moved on from the philosophical to the practical, sharing tips from her book for cutting down on stress and busyness, such as marking off days on the calendar for a “silent night,” which meant not scheduling anything but to stay home and enjoy a holiday movie or a soak in the tub with a good book.
“Like yours,” called out Cass, and once more everyone chuckled.
Smiles, nods, happy faces. Muriel felt her own cranky attitude melting. All right. Even she was beginning to believe what she had to say.
She finished her talk and Millie opened the floor for questions.
“Muriel, most of us know you’ve gone through some hard times. How have you managed to keep your good attitude?” asked Cass.
She had gone through some hard times. She’d lost two wonderful husbands and nearly lost the family business. She still remembered how, after her second husband, Waldo, died, she’d almost given up on living herself. All she’d wanted to do was sleep and hide from the world while Sweet Dreams crumbled and her daughter Samantha had to scramble to save it. Not her finest hour. But, somehow, she’d pulled out of that tailspin. And eventually, she’d come to realize that she had something to say.
“I’m not the only woman here who’s faced hard times and loss,” she said, looking to Pat and then Olivia, “but I think one of the ways you carry on is to find something good to do with your life. Find the purpose God put you here for. Focus on that and you’ll feel so much better.”
And her purpose was to be an encouragement to others, which she was doing here tonight. There, now she felt better.
Another hand shot up, this time from a thirtysomething woman Muriel didn’t recognize. “You have so much good advice in your book on how to deal with difficult people this time of year. I’m wondering, do you have any difficult people in your life? And do you follow your own advice when dealing with them? What do you do when people make you mad?”
I push them overboard in my dreams.
Suddenly, Muriel was feeling a little less positive. “Well, we all know difficult people.”
Several people in the crowd leaned forward, waiting for more words of wisdom from Muriel, the author. But Muriel, the author, seemed to have retired for the night, leaving in her place Muriel, the betrayed friend. Make that Muriel, the exaggerator.
She cleared her throat, making way for those words of wisdom. None came. Finally, she shrugged. “All I can do is try to follow my own advice.” And remember that I brought this whole mess with Dot and Arnie on myself, so there’s no point in being unhappy with either of them. Especially Dot. If Dot had found love, good for her. If only what was good for her didn’t also happen to be not so good for Muriel.
“So, what do you do?” her eager questioner persisted.
“I do the best I can.”
Her answer wasn’t exactly profound but it was the best she could do. And now she was done. She needed to go home and reread her own books. She looked pleadingly at Millie. End my torture, please.
Millie, God bless her, got the message. “Well,” she said, “I think that does it for tonight. I know Muriel will be happy to sign copies of her book. We also have several copies of her other books available for checkout. Muriel, we’re all so glad you could spend the evening with us.”
The applause was followed by a line of people, all wanting to talk to her, tell her how much they’d enjoyed her talk and to get their books signed. She smiled and nodded and wished everyone would hurry up and leave so she could take her fraudulent self home.
“That was really good,” Olivia’s new daughter-in-law, Meadow, told her. “Except the part about difficult people.” She shook her head. “You haven’t met my mom. Even you’d have a hard time with her.”
What to say to that? “Well, at least you have a wonderful mother-in-law to balance the scales.”
It had been the right thing to say. Meadow smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
Olivia had come up in time to hear her words, and her face suddenly matched the red sweater she was wearing. “It was a good talk,” she said and hugged Muriel.
Finally, the crowd dispersed. Muriel could drop the happy ruse and head home at last.
“Ready to go to Herman’s for hot-fudge sundaes?” Samantha asked her.
She’d forgotten she’d promised to go out with the girls. “I don’t know. I’m a little tired.”
“Too tired to hang out with us?” Bailey asked, shocked.
Okay, it looked like she was going out for ice cream.
But even the company of her daughters coupled with one of her favorite chocolate treats couldn’t lift her spirits. She set aside the last half of her sundae.
Samantha pointed to the unfinished treat. “Mom, you’re not finishing your sundae?”
“I’m not very hungry.”
“What’s hunger got to do with it?” Bailey said. “I’ll finish it,” she added and pulled the bowl over to her.
Her other two daughters exchanged worried looks.
“Don’t look like that. I’m fine,” she assured them. She would be. Eventually.
Chapter Twelve
Never underestimate the power of mistletoe.
—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays
Sienna popped next door to Mrs. Zuckerman’s after work to borrow a cup of brown sugar. It was a manufactured need based on a sudden desire to bake cookies, which was based on the real desire to find out how things were going between her and Cratchett.
“Did you make him cookies?”
“I did. He came over today to collect them and stayed for lunch,” Mrs. Zuckerman said as she spooned sugar into Sienna’s measuring cup. “And he brought me a box of Sweet Dreams chocolates. Wasn’t that thoughtful?”
More like cheap. It wasn’t hard to figure out where he’d gotten the chocolates.
“He told me about his wife. Such a sad story. The poor man has been lonely all these years.”
“That tends to happen when you’re a hermit.”
“I think he’s been at a loss for what to do with himself,” Mrs. Zuckerman said. “You know, men don’t do as well as we women when they’re left on their own. We have our friends, which gives us a bit of a safety net. Most men don’t have that group of tight friends who will be there for them when something bad happens. I think that makes life so much harder for them. Anyway, Robert and I had a good time together.”
“I’m glad,” Sienna told her. Not to mention surprised. Even knowing that, once, he’d been a very different man, she found it difficult to envision Cranky Cratchett having a good time with anyone.
“We discovered we have quite a few things in common. We’re both big readers. And can you believe it? He watches the Hallmark Channel.”
Right. Someone was giving Mrs. Zuckerman a snow job.
“I’m going over to his house tonight. We’re going to watch Miracle on 34th Street.”
Miracle on Alpine Drive—Bob Cratchett was becoming human. Who knew? Maybe there was
hope for cranky Mr. Cratchett. But if you asked Sienna, Mrs. Zuckerman had her work cut out for her.
“That sounds like fun,” she said, then couldn’t help cautioning, “But don’t go rushing into anything.”
Mrs. Zuckerman chuckled. “At my age you don’t have a lot of time to waste. And when you find a good man, trust me, you count that as a gift and take him with a heartfelt thank-you.”
“There’s gifts and there’s white elephants,” Sienna pointed out.
Mrs. Zuckerman handed back the cup of sugar. “You’re sweet to worry, but there’s no need. I know the difference.”
Sienna hoped so. As she went back home to start on her own cookies, she couldn’t help worrying that, contrary to all her talk about girlfriends and safety nets, Mrs. Zuckerman was lonely. Loneliness tended to blind people.
She had finished her baking binge and was starting dinner when her doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Leo called and raced for the door.
A moment later she heard a deep male voice in her hallway. The only man who ever stopped by was Rita’s husband, Tito, but this wasn’t him. She came out of the kitchen to see what stranger her son had let in and was surprised to find Leo towing Tim Richmond down the hall like an energetic little tugboat.
Tim seemed to fill the hallway with his presence and she could smell the faintest whiff of spicy cologne. He looked good, he smelled good, and his smile was great.
And here she was, with her makeup worn off and her hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. Her ratty sweatshirt, jeans and Uggs. Ugh.
“Tim.” There was a brilliant conversation starter. “Hi.” Oh, brother. “What are you doing here?” Okay, she gave up.
“I was just at Uncle Bob’s,” he said, pointing next door. “I was going to take him out for dinner but it looks like he’s got a hot date with Mrs. Zuckerman. What’s that about?”
“I guess love’s blooming here on Alpine Drive,” Sienna said.
Christmas in Icicle Falls Page 17
