Finding Home

by Ninette Swann

  She moved quickly to exit the shop, the door jingling as she pulled it open.

  “Wait a moment, dearie, if you will.” The elderly woman hobbled her way to the front.

  Jessica hesitated, looking back at the short, fragile frame that had come to stand behind her.

  “What are you really doing here?” the matron asked.

  “It’s a really long story,” Jessica began, but stopped as unexpected tears threatened to break her composure. The woman waited patiently. “I’ve come home for Christmas to meet a family I never knew,” Jessica began again. “I’m trying to bridge over an old grudge, but I don’t really know what I’m doing.” Insecurity folded over her. She felt so very small and alone.

  She set her jaw. She’d not let these scheming people see her cry.

  “Let me see them,” the woman said, holding out a veined hand.

  Jessica considered her for a long moment before slipping the chain over her head and placing them in the grandma’s palm. “I don’t have much time. My friend is waiting for me outside.”

  “Friend?” The young man sniggered. “Looks like a cabbie to me.”

  “Sure is,” said Jessica, her eyes flashing up at him in anger. “And my only friend right now.”

  “Make it two,” the old woman said, handing the rings back to Jessica.

  “Two?”

  “Two friends.” The lady’s face crinkled into a smile. “Freddy, give the woman five-thousand for these.”

  “What?” The young man was incredulous. “We don’t even know if they’re real. You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m deathly serious,” the woman said, not looking at her grandson but keeping her gaze trained on Jessica. “I’m Mae,” she said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Jessica echoed, unsure of what exactly was taking place.

  “I’ll give you the money for these on one condition,” Mae continued as she turned and hobbled to the counter.

  Jessica sighed. Of course. Conditions.

  She waited for the woman to continue.

  “After tonight,” Mae said, “you have to promise me you’ll come back.”

  “What? Why?”

  Mae smiled at her. “Because,” she murmured as Jessica gave the jewelry back to her, “if these are real, which I suspect they are, you’re right. They’re worth a lot more than five-thousand dollars.”

  “Then we should sell them to the highest bidder,” the young man piped up, exasperation on his face. “New Year’s and Valentine’s Day are coming up. Some rich schmuck will buy them for ten times the cost.”

  “Why don’t you shut up,” Mae snapped at her grandson. “It’s Christmas. Follow Christ.” She turned back to Jessica. “We will keep these in the backroom, saving them for you. Will you come back?”

  Jessica nodded, a lump lodged in her throat.

  “Give her the money,” Mae ordered. With reluctant fingers, Freddy turned over the cash.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Jessica said to Mae, fingering the wad in her hand.

  “Say thank you, dear,” Mae answered simply. “And Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Jessica whispered, tears streaming down her face. “And thank you.”

  * * * *

  Ben stalked around the kitchen as his mother prepared the Christmas feast for the evening. They’d arrived back to the farmhouse just a few hours after Jessica had left, and Ben hadn’t spoken a word of the fair girl since. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to face yet another failure. How many would mark his life?

  “Ben, honey, can you come stir this gravy? I’ve got to slice the roast, and I don’t want lumps.”

  Ellie shot him a sidelong glance as he stood beside her.

  “What, mom?”

  The knife went easily through the meat, hitting the cutting board with a thunk.

  “Nothing,” Ellie said. She cut another slice then a third. She put down the knife, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s just…aren’t you going to go after her?”

  Ben stared at his mother, the spoon idling in the gravy. “What do you mean? She left. She obviously doesn’t want me around.”

  “What was to keep her here, honey? Without the work we could no longer afford to give her, how could she stay? If you had wanted her to, you needed to say something, anything. At least given her a chance to decide with all the information. Where’s the Ben I used to know?” Ellie asked.

  “The Ben who disappeared without a word, so sure of himself?” Ben asked. “He ruined his future and burned the bridges to his past. I left him in New York.”

  “Well, bring him back.”

  Ben started stirring again. “What are you talking about? That Ben was wrong. And he treated you like crap.”

  “And?” Ellie looked at him.

  “And I’m so sorry, Mom.”

  “Well, thank you.” She patted his arm. “But that’s not what I meant.” She paused, picking up the cutlery again. “I wasn’t talking about that Ben. I was talking about the Ben I knew before he left. The wide-eyed, hopeful, confident kid who took a dream he had and ran with it.”

  “Ran it into the ground, you mean,” Ben said, taking the gravy pot off the stove.

  “That doesn’t matter, Ben.” His mom’s tone was exasperated. “You were just a kid, and yes, you may have gone about it wrong, but your ideas were good. You were right to be confident. You have a steady head on your shoulders, and you were meant for a lot more than this farm. So, what are you doing here?”

  “I came home for Christmas, Mom.” Embarrassment rose up in Ben’s throat.

  “And I’m glad you’re here,” Ellie said. “But don’t you think you should go home for Christmas?”

  Ben went to the cupboard, taking out three plates. “Enough with the riddles, Mom.”

  Ellie just smiled. “We’ll open presents after dinner, okay?”

  * * * *

  Jessica handed Charlie two hundred-dollar bills after the old man helped her carry all the bundles to the front door of the modest, three-bedroom home that housed her extended family. After receiving the money, she’d asked one more favor of the cab driver, and together, they’d scoured the area for an open toy store. Walgreens had been the best they could find. Still, joy sang through Jessica as she picked out presents for the younger cousins she didn’t yet know. She hoped the gifts would help ease her introduction, at least in their childlike eyes.

  “Oh, no, miss, I couldn’t,” Charlie said, shooing away the money.

  “Charlie, I insist,” Jessica said, pulling the man into a hug. “You were a Christmas angel for me tonight. You deserve so much more than this.”

  He fumbled around for his wallet, thanking her profusely. “I hope to see you again, someday, Jessica.”

  “Same.” She gave him a little wave as he fired up the taxi and headed home for the night. When the cab was gone from sight, she turned back to the little red door, steeling her nerves for whatever lay ahead. Swallowing back a lump of trepidation, she pressed her finger to the buzzer and waited.

  She heard a thundering ruckus headed toward the door as her young cousins trampled each other to get to it first.

  “Is it Santa?” she heard one ask. A deep voice that must have been her uncle answered, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  Then the lock clicked, and the knob turned. The door burst open, and with squeals of delight, two little girls welcomed a new visitor.

  “Daddy, a girl is here! A girl is here!” Her boy cousin went running back toward the kitchen to spread the news.

  Within moments, her aunt and uncle appeared in the doorway. “Come in,” the woman Jessica assumed to be her aunt said. “Come in!”

  Her uncle Travis helped her bring the shopping bags and luggage inside.

  “You must be Jessica,” he said, relief framing his face. “I’d know that hair anywhere. What is all this?” he asked, lugging the third bundle inside.

  “Some gifts for the k
ids.” Jessica shrugged. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

  Uncle Travis settled her on the couch then began with the introductions. “Stella, this is Jessica.”

  Her aunt nodded. “I’d figured as much. It’s an honor to meet you.”

  Jessica blushed. For people she was supposed to hate, they sure were being nice.

  “These are the kids, Billy, Sadie and Samantha.”

  “Hi,” she said, a bit shy.

  Billy, who must have been nine or ten, stuck out his hand like a proper gentleman, and Jessica shook it strongly, causing him to laugh.

  “Can I get you anything, dear?” Stella asked. She was a matronly woman of about forty-five, with a wide-set frame and a pretty face. “Eggnog? Cocoa?”

  “Eggnog!” Billy yelled. “Eggnog!” Then he stopped himself, recognizing his mother’s disapproving glare. “May I please have some eggnog, please?”

  Jessica laughed at his double politeness and went to help Stella in the kitchen.

  “This is such a nice surprise,” Stella said to her in a low tone. “We thought we’d never hear from Travis’ family ever again. He thought he was fine with that, but when you went missing, this fierce protectiveness came out in him. He tried everything to find you. Then all these years of guilt came flooding back. He blamed himself, you know? For not reaching out sooner. For not trying to patch things up with your mother before her death. He always considered his actions unforgivable and had never expected to have a relationship with her, but he so wanted to apologize over and again. He held back. She didn’t wish to speak to him. And when she died…” Stella trailed off, studying Jessica’s face. “I’m sorry, this must be so painful for you. I didn’t mean to bring up hurtful memories.”

  “It’s okay,” Jessica murmured. “I mean, it’s basically what I’m here for, you know? I’d like to explore possibly being a family. We can’t do that without airing the past.”

  “Well,” the older woman said dismissively, straightening her shoulders and putting the eggnog mugs on a tray to bring to the living room. “No need to do that tonight. Let’s all get to know each other and celebrate that you’re here at all.”

  Jessica cleared room for the tray on the crowded coffee table in the middle of the small room. The kids grabbed their mugs, hooting and hollering.

  “Calm it down,” Stella said in a stern mother’s voice. “I don’t want anyone spilling.”

  Jessica sank down into the old overstuffed sofa and took in her surroundings. The red carpeting gave the room a cozy tone, and a brightly lit Christmas tree sparkled with tinsel and bulbs in the corner. A small train set lay in pieces by the door—the women had had to step over it as they brought in the drinks, which had brought an exasperated sigh to Stella’s lips. A happy, small, lived-in home. Nothing ominous about it.

  “We’d feared the worst,” Travis admitted, his voice shaking.

  “Not now, Travis,” her aunt interrupted. “Let the girl relax after a long journey.” She turned to Jessica. “Where is it you’re coming from, dear?”

  Jessica relayed her time on the farm, just briefly mentioning Ben. Then she turned to the kids. “And what about you guys? Are you excited about Christmas?”

  “Yeah, yeah!” Samantha shouted.

  Sadie placed a hand on her shoulder, calming her. “We are, but Santa didn’t have so much for us this year.” Her voice was quiet, brave. “That’s okay, though. We don’t mind.”

  Billy was suspiciously silent, and Jessica surmised he must already know the truth about Santa and played his part, hiding it from his sisters’ innocent eyes.

  “Well, he sent me as a messenger this year, which is why I brought all the presents. Sorry I’m late,” Jessica said and watched their eyes light up with childish joy. Seeing them happy gave her a profound sense of fulfillment she didn’t quite understand.

  Soon enough, Stella ushered the children to bed, and Jessica steeled herself for a conversation that should have taken place months, if not years, ago.

  “Speaking of the present situation,” her uncle started when they were alone, “I shouldn’t have asked you about the rings. I knew your mother must have asked you to keep them. It’s just—” His voice broke, and he waited a moment before continuing. “If you hadn’t brought these toys, the kids would have had nothing but a few old coloring books we’d squirreled away for them this fall and gave them this morning.”

  Jessica’s heart wrenched, and she had to clear her throat. “I sold them, actually, which is how I could afford this stuff,” she said, holding her hand up when her uncle went to speak. “Now, I didn’t get much for them, not nearly as much as they’re worth, but the woman at the shop is holding them for me. She won’t sell them to anyone else.”

  “So she says,” Travis muttered. “We’d better get back there and buy them back, as soon as we can.”

  “Well,” Jessica said, “for that, we’ll need another thousand dollars.”

  Her uncle made a strangled sound, and she found his eyes.

  “It’s okay, Uncle Travis,” she said. “I can make that money back in a month, I promise. I have a friend in the city who has a dog-walking business. If I hadn’t skipped town over the summer, I would already be working for him. I’m sure he’ll hire me on.”

  “The pawnshop won’t hold them,” he said. “And you’ll have lost your mother’s prized possession…on account of me.”

  Jessica hated to see the man beat himself up, yet curiosity about the past welled up inside her. She didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to avoid the topic.

  “She will. I promise.” Jessica smiled. “Her name is Mae. We got along quite well.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” her aunt said, clearing her throat as she came back into the room. “What matters is that you’re home and unharmed.” She raised her glass. Jessica and Travis followed, and they toasted to family and love before turning in for the night.

  Questions still rumbled through Jessica’s mind.

  As she turned down the blanket on the pull-out couch, she thought wistfully of the last night in a bed. With Ben. She missed him already.

  Chapter Eight

  Ben tried his hardest to keep up the holiday spirit his parents effortlessly displayed, but everything had taken on a gray hue. He hugged his mom and thanked his dad for the work gloves and warm winter coat. They truly would come in handy during the harsh winter ahead of him.

  Just as his mom was about to open his gift to her, the phone rang. Ellie’s eyes lit in excitement.

  “I’ll get it!” she trilled as she jumped up from the couch.

  “Ellie.” Harold’s hand staid her. “Why don’t you let Ben get it?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” His mother sat back down, a rosy tint on her cheeks.

  Ben looked back and forth between the two of them. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Nothing, son,” his father answered. “Just get the phone.”

  Ben answered on the fifth ring, surprised that whoever it was calling on Christmas Day would keep at it for so long.

  “Hey, Ben, that you, buddy?”

  “Yeah.” Ben struggled to place the familiar voice.

  “Hey, it’s Willy! Your old New York buddy! Merry Christmas, man.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Ben replied. “How’d you get this number?”

  “Well, you said you were going back to Sauk Centre, so I looked it up in the book. Sorry to impose, man, but your old cell isn’t working.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Ben nodded, though Willy couldn’t see him. “I switched to a Minnesota number. Sorry. What’s up?”

  “So, you don’t know then?”

  “If I knew, would I have asked you?” Ben tried to hide his annoyance. It wasn’t Willy’s fault he had failed, nor was it Willy’s fault Jessica had left. It was nice to hear from an old friend. That’s what Ben repeated to himself to keep his nonsensical ire at bay.

  “Well, sit down, buddy. You ready?”

  Ben did
n’t answer during the long pause that followed, his irritation edging up by the second.

  “We’re rich!”

  “What?” Of all the news Ben expected to hear, that hadn’t been a possibility that had come to mind. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked over at his parents, both of whom were grinning broadly. He put his hand over the receiver. “Did you know about this?” he asked his mom.

  She nodded and pointed back to the phone, where Willy was all but shouting.

  “Remember those dollar stocks we put in for on a whim three years ago? When we first met? When you had just come out here?”

  “Oh yeah.” Ben had forgotten all about that portfolio. When he’d first arrived in New York, he’d put about half his savings into risky stocks and lost about all of it in just six months. He’d stopped looking at the folder entirely, starting a new exchange through his business.

  “Did you ever sell?”

  “Nah, I couldn’t bear to,” Ben said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “When they dropped to cents on the dollar, I just stopped looking. Never took them out. I’d forgotten all about them, actually. Chalked it up as a loss.”

  “Well, now is the time to remember, my friend. Pemberton Scientific has made us millions of dollars!”

  “What? How?”

  “Their fourth quarter reports were quadruple what was expected after they came out with an automatic energy cell for electric cars. People bought and bought and bought. They’re worth five hundred dollars a share right now. You do the math!”

  Ben’s legs weakened, and he sat back on the couch next to his father. His mind whirred. He’d bought ten thousand dollars’ worth of PS stock at a dollar a share. Ten thousand shares times five hundred…

  “I have five million dollars,” he said, aghast. “I have five million dollars! Holy shit, Willy! How long have you known this?”

  “I found out before the market closed for Christmas. When it opens, we sell, right? I’m selling anyway. I just called to congratulate you, my man!”

  “And congrats to you, too! How much did you make?”