by Nancy Naigle
“Maybe that’s perfect timing. To give all of you a much-needed break before the rest of the season.”
Angela knew most of the people in the room, like her they’d lived here all their lives, but tonight she felt awkward. For the most part coworkers and family units clung together, or families talked with other families. Children darted between the arcade machines, while others picked out putters and colorful golf balls to start their round of miniature golf.
“Want to play?” Marie asked.
“I wish I’d changed clothes before I came, now.” Rather than go home and change she’d opted to stay at the store as long as possible, so now here she was all dressed up in black slacks, heels, and a bright red holiday sweater with silver and gold ornaments on it. Not quite mini-golf attire. “You should have brought Chrissy with you.”
“She’s making cookies over at a friend’s house tonight.”
“That makes me hungry. I’m going to get something to eat,” Angela said.
“I’ll grab a table outside.”
Angela lifted her chin, pasted her ever-present smile back into place and headed to the refreshment table. Garvy, the head chef at Big G’s Fish House on the pier, always catered the spread for this meeting. It was his annual contribution, had been since the first year he’d opened his restaurant. Back then it was just fish tacos and nobody thought he’d be open more than a season, but he’d proved everyone wrong.
“It’s been too long since I’ve had your fish tacos,” Angela admitted.
“If I’d known that I’d have made some special just for you.” Garvy pulled her into a big bear hug. “Don’t you do anything but work anymore? I’m not sure I’ve seen you in my restaurant twice all year.”
The familiar darkness settled in her heart. “I know.” She gripped the sides of her plate. “I’m sorry. How’s the restaurant?”
“Great and we’re still seeing steady growth each year. You wouldn’t recognize the place. I’ve redone the whole inside. Has kind of a swanky vibe now.”
“You? Swanky?” She glanced down at his cargo shorts, his attire of choice since they were in high school together.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s not that swanky. My customers—and I—can all still wear shorts and flip-flops. It’s on the pier, for goodness sake. I didn’t go crazy.”
“Whew. You had me scared there for a minute.”
“No. This boy likes to stay in his comfort zone. I don’t mind making fancy meals, but I don’t want to have to dress up for it. Why should my customers?”
“I hear ya,” she said with a giggle. She missed Garvy, but he’d been Jimmy’s best friend. He would’ve been the best man at their wedding, had Jimmy not taken that job in Texas. After Jimmy left it had been awkward, and then so much time went by and she’d gotten busy with the store. She was sorry now that she hadn’t kept up their friendship. “The parking lot is packed every time I drive by.”
“A good problem to have,” he said.
She wished she had that problem. Filling her plate with a little of everything to avoid giving him her update, which would be a big fat downer, she edged around to the other side of the table. “I’m going to dig in before this gets cold. It looks so good.”
“Come see me sometime. I was almost your best man once. I still feel like I should be taking care of you.”
She hugged him, balancing her plate in one hand high in the air. “You’re one of the last few good men.”
“Tell Mandy that.”
She hadn’t even asked about Mandy. It was good to know the two of them were still together. “I promise I will.” She gave him a thumbs-up as she made her way over to pour a glass of sweet tea and go outside to find Marie.
Tall gas heat lamps blew warm air across the mild night. With families taking up most of the round tables, she finally spotted Marie leaning against a counter in front of hole 8.
Players had to get their ball around a tricky angle and then through a gator’s gaping jaws to the hole on the other side. “That looks hard.” She placed her napkin in her lap.
“Must be. No one has made par yet,” Marie said.
Angela took a bite. Garvy’s food was still as delicious as ever. He was right. She owed him a visit. They’d been so close once.
One by one people took their best shot from the putting green.
Angela’s phone signaled new email. Out of habit, she picked up her phone and began flipping through the notifications.
The electric bill.
An email from the artist scheduled to come to the store next week to show her his latest work for an order. She needed to cancel that. No sense wasting his time.
But the next one got her attention.
“‘Ho. Ho. Ho. The answer is no’?” She’d read the subject line out loud.
“What?” Marie asked.
“I got an email.”
“From who? Santa?” Marie started to laugh and then scooched over to Angela. “Oh gosh. From Santa? Really?”
“Apparently.” She clicked on the email.
“What’s it say?” Marie hung over her shoulder.
“I don’t know.” She wiggled away from Marie. “Shh. Stop. Everyone is looking.”
“They are not. Read it!”
“He sent it from a private email to prove it’s not an autogenerated response.” Angela dropped her phone to her side. “What all did you say to him?”
“What? Don’t be mad. I was just trying to find out what we wanted to know.”
“You mean what you wanted to know.” Angela read the rest of the letter. “Marie? What did you say? He knows everything.”
“I told him you were going to have to close your business, but if you met a man like him it would be easier.”
“You did not!”
“Not verbatim, but something like that.”
Angela flipped the phone against her sister’s arm. “That is not even funny. Why would you do that?” She lifted the phone and reread the message. “How embarrassing.”
“Let me see that.” Marie read the note. “It’s nice. You can thank me later.”
“Or I could kill you now.”
Marie scrolled down. “Here’s the email I sent. Look, it’s not that bad.”
Angela read it. “It sounds pitiful, and desperate.”
“Well?”
“Stop.” She took her phone and shoved it into her purse. “Forget it.”
Angela wiggled a finger wave to Scott, the owner of the place, as he took his turn at hole 8. The man teeing up behind Scott was Geoff.
Not again. She scowled.
“What?”
“That’s him. The guy from Christmas Galore.” He turned and looked right at her. She hoped he hadn’t noticed her staring. “His name is Geoff.”
“Maybe Santa is already at work. He is cute.”
“Oh, stop. One has nothing to do with the other. And that would be a pretty cruel joke if Santa sent him to me.”
“Remember what Momma Grace used to say?” Marie waved a reprimanding finger in her sister’s direction. “If you don’t believe you don’t receive.”
“You’re crazy.” Angela turned her back on her sister.
As he got ready to putt, she noticed the line of his triceps. He was wearing jeans and a golf shirt, but even dressed down he looked sharp.
Too bad he couldn’t have owned any other store in this town.
“Are we going to golf?” Marie asked.
“Sure. Come on.” Angela led the way to get putters and balls, then crossed the Astroturf to an open hole.
Across the way a giant elephant sprayed water from his raised trunk up and over a bridge, into a too-blue lagoon. She wondered if the water was that color year-round or if perhaps it was treated with some kind of antifreeze to winterize it.
The business had only opened up for this party. It would remain closed until next May, when the tourists started descending upon the town again.
She made a quick turn to avoid Geoff, who was
waiting his turn at the next mat, but just as she stepped up he threw his arm out, throwing her off balance and sending her toppling over a cement lion. Before she could put together what had happened, someone was crouched down by her side.
“Are you okay?” Ali, owner of the hair salon that both Marie and Angela frequented, helped her to her feet.
“Yes. I think so.” She swept at her pants, more embarrassed than anything.
Ali looked her over. “That was quite a tumble.”
Her anger at the rude maneuver quickly faded as she put together what had happened. Geoff must have caught her with his arm as he launched himself across the green and into the water, because now, across the way, soaking wet, Geoff crouched next to a toddler and a frantic mother. His wet shirt clung tightly to his strong back and muscular biceps as he leaned forward, talking quietly to the child.
Watching him speak gently to the little girl who had slipped into the water tugged at Angela’s heart. She hadn’t seen that kind of caring in a man in a long time—not since Jimmy, and he’d been gone awhile. Most men were so macho they would’ve left the comforting to the nearest woman.
Angela shot off toward the building with Marie on her heels. She pushed through the door to the ladies’ room, and quickly looked beneath the stall doors to make sure they were the only ones in there.
Marie walked in right behind her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“He’s a hero. Did you see him?”
“I did. He was soaking wet. Didn’t hesitate one second.”
“It’s a sign. He literally swept you off your feet.” Marie pulled two paper towels out of the machine. “Here. Take these to him so he can dry off.”
“I am not doing that. Stop.” She crumpled the paper towels and put them in the trash bin. “He’s soaking wet. That wouldn’t help at all. Besides, he and I are not exactly on friendly terms. Remember?”
“Suit yourself, because he looks pretty fit, and I wouldn’t pooh-pooh the idea of helping him dry off if I were you.”
“I don’t—”
“Ha-ah.” Marie waved a finger. “You’re a liar if you say you didn’t notice.”
Angela shrugged then broke out into a smile. “Okay, I may have noticed. His arms are amazing.”
“I know. I noticed, and I’m not afraid to admit it.” Marie folded her arms across her chest.
“It wasn’t exactly a graceful fall.” Angela brushed the back of her pants again. She’d definitely have a bruise on her left butt cheek. Ouch. “Come on. We’ve made our appearance. Let’s go.”
“Fine by me,” Marie said.
They walked outside. Half a dozen merchants stood smoking just outside the front door.
“Hey, Angela,” Garvy said as he flicked ashes into the flowerbed. “How’d you enjoy the dinner?”
She lifted her hand in a wave. “Dinner was amazing.”
“Then why are you leaving so soon?”
“We’ve got so much to do,” she lied.
“You’re the hardest-working girl I know. Don’t forget to live a little, my friend.” Garvy had a concerned look on his face. “And don’t forget to come see your old buddy. I miss you.”
“I will. I promise,” she said.
“I’m holding you to that.”
“Okay. Count on it,” she said.
Marie had parked right by the door, so Angela hugged her and watched her leave before walking to her car at the far end of the lot, wondering how the man who’d made her skin crawl was suddenly making her tingle.
Chapter Twenty
Dear Santa,
My dad says if I don’t believe I won’t receive. I’m writing to tell you I believe even if I tell my friends that I don’t.
Thanks,
Mary Elizabeth
The next morning Geoff was in the office on a conference call when Virgil poked his head in the door.
“I’m on mute,” Geoff said. “Good morning.”
“Hey, just real quick. Your mom wanted me to remind you to send all that stuff over for the Christmas stocking project.”
Geoff jotted the note on his desk calendar. “I’ll make sure it gets there.”
“Good. They aren’t sending your mom home today. She’s in rare form.”
“Oh great.”
“Yeah, just wanted to warn you.”
“Thank you,” he said. Virgil closed the door behind him.
By the time he broke away from the office it was late afternoon. The parking lot at the hospital was nearly empty. He parked in a front spot and headed upstairs. As he passed the nurses’ station he stopped. “Has the doctor been in to see Rebecca Paisley this evening?”
“No sir. He won’t make rounds again until the morning,” she said.
“Too bad. I was hoping maybe my mom had gotten some good news and they’d be sending her home after all.”
The nurse just responded with a gentle smile.
He crossed the hall to Rebecca’s room. The television was on, but she was fast asleep.
She never seemed tiny, but lying there in bed, she looked different. Less powerful. Less able.
He lowered himself into the chair next to her bed. “Hope you’re feeling better tonight,” he said, but she didn’t stir.
“I’ll be glad when you’re back to your old self again. The locals like the store. Sales are great, better than we’d even projected. That’s the good news.”
He paused, looking for any sign of her waking up.
“The bad news is we may experience some whiplash. It turns out the little Christmas store on the point, the one in the old lighthouse building, may go out of business. People are speculating that it’s our fault.”
He sat there for a moment. She didn’t have to respond for him to know what she’d think about that. “I know. It’s not a very nice thing to be said about us. In our defense, her store had to already be in trouble, right?”
The machines beeped at a steady pace. Lights blinked and numbers flashed in intervals. “How can you sleep with all this beeping, buzzing and humming going on around you? It would drive me crazy.” She laid still, and his heart squeezed.
An older nurse with blued curls and eyeglasses hanging from a beaded chain cleared her throat at the door. Her white shoes squeaked as she walked across the room and began tapping buttons on the machine next to his mother’s bed.
He jumped from his chair. “She’s sleeping.”
“I know. I gave her a little sleeping cocktail in her IV about an hour ago to keep her quiet and calm. She was fussing about missing the Christmas parade. Never heard a grown woman make such a fuss about a parade before.” She messed with the machine, pushing buttons, then checking connections. “You know, my momma used to say if you can’t get someone off your mind, it’s because they are supposed to be there. She’d say, ‘The mind can recognize what the heart is trying to deny.’” She quit fussing with the machines, and placed a chubby finger to her chin. “Wait. Maybe it was the other way around. Either way. Don’t think too much about it, just let things work out the way they’re supposed to.” She turned and smiled at him gently. “I’m sure your momma would say the same thing. She told me you haven’t given her any grandchildren yet. You might think about that.”
Did his mother even want grandchildren? Did this stranger know something he didn’t? “How is she doing? I mean, really doing.”
The nurse tilted her head. “The same. She’s had this heart problem for a long time. She said she was expecting this eventually. She’s very peaceful about everything, but Lord, that woman does not know how to take a break. I told her she needs to slow down and let all of this sink in before making any decisions. That’s why the doctor suggested the sedative. Maybe some rest will get her thinking more clearly. Or at least just take a minute to think before she makes the decision.”
“Decision?”
“She’s refusing surgery. Says she’s had enough years to think about it.”
“She what? Why? She
didn’t tell me about surgery.”
“She doesn’t have to. I didn’t tell you either.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Right?”
He nodded slowly. “Right.”
“Against the privacy laws and all that. I could get in big trouble.” She leaned in close to him. “Since when is it not okay for a family member to know what their momma is going through? Who is the government to tell us when to tell or not? I’m here for my patients. Not the big man on the hill.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” He hadn’t noticed this nurse on his earlier visits. “Thank you. Thank you very much for sharing that with me.”
“She’ll be awake in a couple of hours. Why don’t you come back then?”
“It’s hard to leave her.”
She smiled wide. “I’ve been a nurse for more years than you’ve been on this earth. I know it’s the people that come first. Caring is as important as the medicine we treat our patients with. Your momma is good people. Special.”
“So are you. Thank you. I guess I’ll head on out, and check on her in a couple hours.”
“That’s a good plan.”
“Thank you.” He shoved a hand in his pocket and left the room. Was it his place to talk to his mom about surgery? It was her choice. Would he have surgery if faced with the same decision at her age? He wasn’t so sure.
Just thinking about it made him tired.
The town parade was this evening. Maybe he’d go and take a few pictures for Mom. She hadn’t mentioned the parade to him, but she loved that stuff. She’d probably like to see the pictures. Wasn’t much else he could do for her, and he didn’t like feeling helpless.
He ran by the office and finished up what had to be done, then decided to feed his curiosity with a little drive over to the old lighthouse on the point.
He knew about Heart of Christmas, their revenue over the past few years, and footprint. Even their marketing strategies, which were antiquated. Christmas Galore had a team that conducted an in-depth survey on all potential competition in an area before they made a final decision to open a store in a new location.
