Three Christmas Wishes

by Sheila Roberts

  “Something to think about this summer,” he said and took a drink.

  Something to think about right now. She could see herself hiking in the mountains with this man. She could see herself doing plenty of things with him.

  Remember, you’re not in a hurry. She didn’t need to host a second non-wedding reception. So after finishing her drink, she said she had to go.

  “Well, then, I’ll see you Saturday.”

  Yes, Saturday. And now, even though she was determined not to rush into anything, she was excited all over again. She was having the party to end all parties and Jack Logan was coming. Life was good.

  She called Noel when she got home to report in.

  “He sounds great,” Noel said after Riley had described her afternoon with Jack.

  “I think he probably is,” Riley said. “Of course, it may not turn into anything.”

  “Sounds like he wants it to if he’s asking you out for drinks.”

  “Maybe,” Riley said, not wanting to get her hopes up.

  “So funny that you two are hitting it off after the way you met. Just like Santa said,” Noel added. “Isn’t that weird?”

  “Coincidence.” Riley was done trying to explain their strange Santa encounter. “How about you? How’s the job going?”

  There was a moment’s silence, followed by, “It’s not.”

  “You quit?”

  “No, I got fired.”

  “Fired!”

  “On my first day,” Noel said, her voice tinged with misery.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry. What happened?”

  “I had a slight accident.”

  Shades of Noel’s disastrous dinner with the evil house-flipper. “What kind of accident?”

  “I spilled eggs on Ben Fordham’s mother.”

  “What was he doing at The Rusty Saw?” Talk about bad timing.

  “Birthday breakfast with his son.”

  “He’s got a son?” If he had a son, that meant he had a woman somewhere. No wonder Noel was having so much trouble persuading him to let her have her house back.

  “I don’t know what the deal is with that, but I do know Ben’s mother guards him like a dragon. She made me so nervous,” Noel said and went on to describe the whole grisly scene.

  “That’s terrible,” Riley said.

  “Maybe I should go and apologize to his mom, bring her chocolates or something.”

  “She doesn’t deserve chocolates. She sounds like a real be-atch.”

  “I think she is,” Noel said.

  “It wasn’t like you did it on purpose.”

  “I know. But still. Or maybe I should forget about the house, let the whole thing go.”

  “Don’t do that. Did you invite him to my party?”

  “There wasn’t exactly time at the Saw.”

  “You should invite him.”

  “I don’t know,” Noel said miserably. “I think someone else is going to wind up in my house. I’ll have to move back home with my parents like a big failure.”

  “You’re not a failure,” Riley said. “Don’t even go there. And you can always move in with me.”

  “Thanks. You’re such a good friend.” Another sigh. “I love this house.”

  Riley could’ve told her that there’d be other houses, but that would have cheered Noel about as much as it had cheered Riley every time someone told her how lucky she was to be rid of Sean.

  Of course, now she could see that there were other men out there. A girl could move on.

  Still, she hoped Noel wouldn’t have to. If she got the house-flipper to the party, if he saw Noel in her fancy green bridesmaid dress...well, who knew? It was Christmas, after all, the most wonderful time of the year. Anything could happen.

  She thought of Jack Logan. Oh, yes, indeed, anything could happen.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Noel and Marvella were busy helping a little boy master sleeping without a night-light when Noel’s cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number.

  Don’t answer it, advised Marvella. We have work to do and it’s probably someone wanting to sell you a vacation time-share.

  Probably. Noel let the call go to voice mail.

  But she had a hard time concentrating on little Edgar’s troubles. Who was that mystery caller? She finally picked up her cell phone and listened to the message.

  “This is Ben Fordham,” said a deep voice.

  Ben Fordham! She’d missed a call from Ben Fordham. She knew she shouldn’t have listened to Marvella.

  “I, uh, got your number from Mrs. Bing. You might not want to talk to me after what happened at the Saw. I wanted to call and see if you still had your job. Uh, actually, well, I, uh, feel bad that you felt you had to take the job in the first place. I hope we can work out something about the house.”

  Joy! Elation!

  Ha! The old sympathy ploy worked. Looks like you’ve finally got the poor slob where you want him. Bet he’ll let you have it for next to nothing now.

  Marvella’s words threw cold water on the fire of enthusiasm. Yes, Noel had wanted to butter him up so he’d make a deal, but she wasn’t out to use him. She only wanted him to cooperate with her. She certainly didn’t need his pity.

  Pity, shmitty. Who cares as long as you get what you want?

  Sometimes Marvella wasn’t very noble. “It’s a good thing I don’t let your ugly side come out in books,” Noel muttered.

  Never mind my ugly side. Call the man back.

  She started to call him then decided she’d rather go to his office. Maybe he’d even ask her to lunch.

  She changed out of her fuzzy pajama bottoms, ratty old sweater and Hello Kitty slippers and put on more of her borrowed classy lady clothes. On her way to his office she decided to stop and buy a peace offering for his mother. Chocolates. And, while a box of candies wasn’t the same as a new sweater, it was the thought that counted. Right? Anyway, Mrs. Sawyer had taken enough money from her to pay for a new one.

  Cashmere? Who was she kidding? She decided to buy a really big box of chocolates.

  At Northwest Gifts she chose a large box of chocolate truffles tied with a red velvet bow. She hoped her offering would win some points with Ben’s mother. While she was at it, she got a small box for her father by way of congratulations. He’d gotten the job and they were all going out to Pepe’s for Mexican that night to celebrate.

  “This is our biggest seller,” the clerk informed her as she rang up Noel’s purchases. “They’re made by a chocolate company in Icicle Falls and people love them.”

  She hoped Ben’s mother counted as people. “She’ll love them,” Noel assured herself as she parked in front of Ben Fordham’s office. Still, she found her feet getting colder with each step toward the building, and it had nothing to do with the slush on the ground. Did she really want to face Mrs. Fordham?

  You bought ’em. You may as well deliver ’em, said Marvella.

  Maybe she’d deliver them to Ben and he could give them to his mother. Yes, that was a much better plan. She’d give him chocolates to pass on and they could settle things about the house, hopefully in a way that would make them both happy.

  She had just gotten to the Fordham Enterprises door and was about to walk in when the door of the office across from it opened. “May I help you?” said a female voice in a tone as close to a snarl as one could get and still be civil.

  Startled, Noel dropped the box of chocolates. What was it with this family that every time she was around them, she dropped something? She scrambled to pick it up and hugged it to her.

  Will you stop looking so pathetic? Marvella said. And you’re holding that box of chocolates like it’s a shield. Try to show some confidence.

  Confidence. Noel lowered the
box, keeping a firm grip on it. Okay, her grip was firm but her knees felt weak. “Yes, actually. Mrs. Fordham, it’s nice to see you again.” What a lie.

  The woman didn’t bother with small talk. There she stood, fashionably dressed as usual in gray slacks, black heels and a white blouse, which she’d accented with a red scarf and a frown. “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to give you these.” Noel managed a smile and held out the chocolates. “As an apology for ruining your sweater.”

  Mrs. Fordham made no move to take them nor did she smile back. “I’m afraid I don’t eat chocolate.”

  Which would explain why she was as thin as a snake. “Oh. Well, I just wanted you to know that I felt bad. I hope Mrs. Sawyer gave you my money for a replacement one.”

  “My son was in there yesterday and she gave it to him. Is there anything else?”

  Noel’s eyes sneaked a glance at Ben’s office door.

  This didn’t go unnoticed by the lizard. “I understand Ben has purchased the house you’ve been renting.”

  “Uh, yes. I’m hoping to buy it back from him.” A perfectly penciled eyebrow shot up and Noel could feel a guilty heat zooming from her neck to the roots of her hair.

  “I’m sure his Realtor will be happy to talk to you when the time comes,” Mrs. Fordham said.

  She didn’t have to add, “Now, scram.” That was implied and Noel got the message loud and clear. But darn it all, she didn’t want to scram. She wanted to see Ben. She reached to open his office door.

  “I hope you don’t have designs on my son, young woman.”

  Noel’s hand dropped from the door handle and she took a step back. “Designs?”

  Mrs. Fordham pointed a finger at her. “Don’t play innocent with me. I know what you’re up to.”

  The heat on Noel’s face got hotter. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” she lied.

  “You’re not the first woman to try to take advantage of his soft heart, but I can tell you right now he listens to me and I’m going to have a few things to say about you when we have our meeting today.”

  “Mrs. Fordham, you don’t even know me,” Noel protested.

  “Oh, yes, I do. I’ve met your type before.”

  Shy writers?

  Noel was trying to form an answer when the door to the Fordham Enterprises office opened. Maybe it was Ben. Maybe she could ask to see him privately, put in a good word for herself before his mother got to him. What that good word was going to be she had no idea, since Mrs. Fordham was absolutely right. She was hoping to take advantage of his soft heart—now that she knew he had one.

  Sadly, it wasn’t Ben who came out. It was his secretary. She hesitated uncertainly, glancing from Noel to Mrs. Fordham.

  “Janelle, what are you doing out here?” Mrs. Fordham demanded.

  Janelle looked almost as cowed as Noel felt. “I’m on my way to lunch?”

  Lunch hour already. How time flew when you were being intimidated.

  “Well, go on, then. No one’s stopping you.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Fordham,” the secretary said and began speed-walking toward the stairs.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Mrs. Fordham said, opening the door Janelle had just come out of. She slipped inside and shut it firmly behind her.

  Noel started speed-walking for the stairs herself, anxious to get away from the scene of her humiliation. She’d almost reached Janelle when she realized she was about to step into another unpleasant conversation, this time with her rival. She stopped with the speed-walking.

  But Janelle had heard her coming and paused on the stairs, waiting for Noel to catch up with her. Great.

  Surprisingly, the expression on the secretary’s face was far from adversarial. She looked almost sympathetic. “Don’t feel bad. She doesn’t like me, either.”

  “Did she call you a user?”

  “No, she called me a complication, something her son doesn’t have time for. He’s raising his kid all alone. It’s upsetting for Timmy to have women parading through his life. Blah, blah.”

  “Why is he raising Timmy alone?” Noel asked.

  “I don’t know the details, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his mother drove his ex away. That woman is a dragon. Nobody gets past her.” Janelle pointed to Noel’s chocolates. “Bribery doesn’t work, either. Believe me, I tried. If the dragon had her way, she’d replace me with someone who’s fifty and fat. But I’m not going anywhere.” Janelle smiled, but with her eyes narrowed it changed to something far from sweet. Mrs. Fordham had better not be anywhere near the stairs when Janelle was. She could wind up having a sad accident.

  Janelle’s evil twin vanished and she added some syrup to her expression. “If you want I can give the chocolates to Ben. He loves chocolate.”

  That was unexpectedly nice, especially considering that before this, Janelle hadn’t been much warmer to her than Mrs. Fordham. “Thanks,” she said, handing them over. “Someone may as well enjoy them.”

  “Don’t worry. Someone will,” Janelle said as she took the box.

  Hmm. Had she just been duped? Would Ben even see those chocolates? Noel sighed inwardly and continued, and Janelle went back up the stairs with the candy. Well, she’d tried. And that was all she could do. She returned to her car feeling depressed.

  A text from her sister didn’t lift her spirits.

  Just got bling from Dan. He couldn’t wait to give it to me.

  Cool, Noel texted back. Nice that life was falling into place for somebody.

  Can’t wait to show you. See you tonite.

  Yes, tonight. What was Ben Fordham doing tonight? She’d never get a chance to find out, not with his mom on patrol. Might as well return Jo’s clothes. She texted Jo and suggested she drop them off.

  You can’t be done with them already, Jo replied.

  Not much point anymore.

  Are you having a crisis?

  Did giving up count as a crisis?

  No. Just thought you’d like them back.

  Can’t fit into them yet. Keep them a little longer. Next month we’ll go sale shopping and get you some big-girl clothes of your own.

  In other words, fashion model stuff like Jo wore. Noel wasn’t sure she saw the point, but she thanked Jo. Then she asked about the baby and how things were going with Mike home.

  Readjusting, Jo texted.

  Noel hoped she meant that in a good way. She said bye and then drove home where she changed back into fleecy bottoms, her ratty sweater and her slippers. She made herself a cup of tea, sat down at her desk and got very aggressive with the monster who was picking on little Edgar. Well, Marvella got aggressive. Noel simply took dictation.

  The chapter finished, she sat back, read what she’d written and pronounced it good. If only she could influence the outcome of real-life events the way she could fictional ones. Her phone pinged, announcing a new text. This one came from... She almost dropped her cell. Ben Fordham.

  Mom says she talked to you.

  You could call it that. Yes.

  Can I see you tonight?

  She couldn’t help feeling intrigued. Why did he want to see her? Her heart rate began to pick up. He got the chocolates and he wanted to thank her. He’d told his mother off and decided he needed to sell Noel the house and then move in with her. He’d...

  You can’t see him. You’ve got your family dinner. You’re busy, Marvella reminded her. Anyway, you need to make him sweat.

  Him? She was the one with the rapid heartbeat here. She wouldn’t be at the restaurant all night. Ben could come over later for hot chocolate. And conversation. And...ooh, just think of the possibilities.

  She texted back:

  Can you come at 8?

  Don’t get excited, she told herself. You don’t even k
now why he wants to come over. After talking to his mom, he was probably coming to let her down easy, tell her he’d changed his mind about trying to work out a deal and that she’d better hurry up and start packing her stuff.

  Too late. She was excited. She couldn’t stop herself.

  I’ll get a pizza.

  I’ll bring wine.

  Yuck.

  Scratch that. You don’t like wine.

  He remembered. That had to mean something.

  It means he’s not going to waste money on wine. Don’t get all sloppy sentimental, Marvella said. You need to keep your wits about you.

  How about cola?

  Super.

  They settled on eight and she immediately ended her workday to clean her house and herself. Maybe she’d even give herself a mani. And a pedi.

  She hummed as she cleaned up her place and had a shower, and she was smiling as she changed back into what Jo referred to as big-girl clothes. She was still smiling when she drove to Pepe’s and the smile stayed with her clear through dinner. It never even faltered when Aimi showed off the diamond earrings Dan had gotten her. He didn’t make a lot and he’d probably saved for months to buy them. Lucky Aimi that he was so willing to sacrifice for her.

  That’s okay, she told herself, still smiling, you’re going to work things out with Ben Fordham. Life is good.

  After dinner Dad broke open the chocolates she’d brought and shared them. Oh, yes, life was indeed good.

  On the way home she picked up a frozen pizza. Once in the house she brushed her teeth, touched up her makeup, put on more perfume and shed her shoes so she could show off her toenail polish—Christmas red with white tips, a lovely job if she did say so herself. And staying barefoot was a much better idea than running around in red stilettos. There would be no tripping or spilling tonight.

  She got her pizza in the oven, lit a scented candle and flipped on her Christmas lights. Then she stood in her doorway, taking in the winter scene. The neighbors all had their Christmas lights on and there was just enough snow left to make everything look festive. The kids down the street had built a snowman and he seemed to be waving at Noel with one of his stick arms. She loved nights like this when everything was quiet and pretty.