Winter Wishes

by Fern Michaels

  It was cold, but the sun was bright, almost glaring in its intensity. Meredith made sure she had her list and donned her sunglasses for the drive to Greenburg. Nashville had the basic necessities for shopping, but there wasn’t much variety. The supermarket was adequate but small, and the prices were higher than at the bigger chain store where the selection was more what she was used to. A once-a-week trip to the bigger town to stock up on groceries was probably all she’d need. And it would be a fun Saturday outing. If she needed to shop, she could stop at the mall first. It wasn’t a super mall by any means, but it had several of the major department stores.

  There wasn’t much in the way of scenery on the drive. The roads were straight, and the land was flat. No mountains in the distance, no skyscraper hotels. Farmland stretched as far as she could see on either side of the two-lane road. But, of course, there were no crops planted this time of year. She imagined in the spring, there would be shoots of corn and wheat and whatever else Kansas was known for. Soybeans, maybe. Alfalfa. She should do her homework if this was her new home.

  Probably hay was grown here to feed the cattle she saw gathered in muddy lots near the barns she passed. The cows looked cold and unhappy, resigned to their lot in life, she supposed. They, unlike her, didn’t have a choice about where they went. Probably they couldn’t make a decision anyway. But she supposed they’d prefer a nice green pasture somewhere in a warmer climate, where they’d be allowed to live out their days chewing grass and napping in clover.

  Wow. She was making up stories about cows now. Maybe she’d write a children’s book about happy farm animals. Pigs and cows and goats. Chickens and ducks and geese who all got along with each other. A picture book with green fields and sunny skies. But all the animals would do fun, humanlike things. And the ducks and geese could race on bicycles. And the cows and pigs would wear roller skates and compete in a roller derby. The chickens would stage a dance contest. The goats were the judges for all the events. Except they ate the scorecards. So everyone was a winner.

  The more Meredith thought about it, the more she liked the idea. There was room for some silliness in the world. And what better place to start than with children.

  By the time she reached the big home improvement store, she had the whole book mapped out in her head, complete with illustrations. She’d have to find an illustrator, though, because even believable stick figures were a challenge for her.

  The parking lot was already crowded, but she found space near the end of a long row of pickups and SUVs. Her hybrid compact seemed out of place among the bigger vehicles. But it was easy to park, which was one of the things she loved about it. That and the economical gas mileage. Maybe someday she’d need a bigger vehicle. But for now, her car was perfect for her.

  Inside, the store was bustling, the aisles crowded with shopping carts and families. It was a popular place, not only for Christmas decor but for gift buying as well. Especially if you were buying for someone who liked power tools.

  She was glad she wasn’t in a hurry. The only thing on her agenda was her date later this afternoon for coffee with Noah. So she took her time navigating through the aisles. The Christmas lights had been picked over, but the clerks were restocking them almost as fast as they sold. She found the kind of clear white lights she wanted and estimated how many she’d need to wrap the trunk of the tree. She should have measured it before she left. Which made her think she should probably buy a tape measure while she was here because she didn’t have one and couldn’t have measured it anyway.

  She placed several boxes of lights in her cart and edged past a harried-looking woman who had two small children wedged in her cart and two older ones tagging behind her. The cart itself was stacked with merchandise, and the kids were pointing out every single item they passed. “Look, Mom.” “We should get these, Mom.” “Can we have candy-cane lights?” “I like the red ones.” Meredith didn’t know how the woman did it. She was having a hard enough time figuring out what to buy without anyone along to offer more suggestions.

  But the woman was patiently answering the children’s questions and suggestions. Meredith guessed she was used to it and had unlimited patience.

  There was an entire section devoted to wreaths and outside Christmas decor. She chose a pretty green wreath with a big red bow and little silver bells placed throughout.

  Some of the lawn ornaments were outrageous. Big blow-up Santas and reindeer and snowmen. She couldn’t imagine dealing with one of those on her own. Not this year anyway.

  She found a jaunty snowman made of wood that would fit perfectly in the corner of the front stoop right next to the door. And then she saw there was a snow maiden meant to match him. Perfect, she thought. For the other side of the door.

  She pushed her cart to the back of the store to look at the ladders. They weren’t cheap, that was for sure. And she couldn’t buy one anyway because she had no way to get it home. It certainly wouldn’t fit in the back of her car. She’d have to make friends with someone who had a pickup or an SUV who wouldn’t mind helping her get one home. Someone like Noah? Just the thought of him made her smile. Yes. And she’d buy him a cup of coffee in return for his help.

  There would be a lot of coffee in her future, she hoped. And someone to share it with.

  On the way home, Meredith thought about her future. Although she’d got her degree in English, mostly because she loved to read and write, and she’d thought about teaching English, she’d begun to reconsider that idea. Maybe she’d be happier teaching elementary school. Even kindergarten. She liked the thought of reaching children at a younger age, igniting their interest in stories and school and how to get along with their peers.

  She’d researched what it took to get a teaching certificate. There were some classes she’d have to take and an exam to pass. But if she started the classes in the winter semester and continued through the summer sessions, she could complete all the requirements by the beginning of the next school year. Even if she couldn’t find a permanent position in the county school system right away, she could substitute teach until one became available. Plus, that would give her time to work on her children’s book. On the drive home, she embellished her ideas. There would be one bossy cow, she decided, who’d have to become part of the team. And an older mother-hen type who didn’t let age get in her way. It would be such fun creating the story and the characters even if it never got published.

  For that matter, she could publish it herself. It seemed like everyone was writing books these days, and it didn’t matter whether they had a publisher. She could ask Mrs. Williams, the art teacher at the high school, about illustrations. Maybe she knew someone who would be interested in doing the designs and a cover.

  When Meredith arrived home, the sun hadn’t done much to raise the temperature. She changed her clothes and got started on putting up the lights. But first she situated her snow people on either side of the front door. She thought they were adorable and imagined them sneaking flirtatious glances at each other when no one was looking.

  She hung the wreath on the outer door. There, she thought. Proof I’m not a Scrooge.

  She’d stowed her purchases in the trunk of her car, so she just left it open. There was no sense taking everything inside when she could open all the packages of lights right in the driveway. She started with the extension cord, glad that she’d bought the hundred-foot one because there were only a few feet left after she plugged it in and uncoiled it on the way to the tree. She left it there and went back for the lights.

  She pulled the big trash can out and discarded the wrappings as she went. She started at the base of the tree with two strands. It would be better, she decided, if she plugged each strand into one of the three outlet prongs. That way, she could plug additional strands into each one as she went up the length of the tree. She’d read the warning label and knew there was a limit to how many strands could be connected. The last thing she wanted to do was create a fire hazard in her new neighborhood.

/>   She went to work circling the tree, trying to keep the distance between the lights as uniform as possible. She wished she had a ladder and more lights because it would have been pretty to wrap the bare lower branches with lights as well. It would give the impression that the lights were floating in the air at night. Next year, she reminded herself, she’d go all out. But for now, she determined she had purchased just enough lights to cover the trunk up to where the lowest branches began. Luckily, she had a stepladder in the garage to help her reach them.

  When she finished, she stood back to admire her efforts. The lights all worked. She couldn’t really tell how it would look until it got dark out. It would be easy enough to plug in the extension cord each evening and unplug it before she went to bed.

  The front door of the house next to her opened as she was folding up the step stool. An older woman wrapped in a thick cardigan sweater came out. “I never saw anyone put lights around a tree trunk like that before,” she called to Meredith.

  Meredith looked back at her tree. “It’s the only place I could think of to put some lights up this year.”

  “Bet it’ll look pretty at night,” the woman said. “I’m Julia,” she said. “Julia Johnston.”

  “Meredith Clark. It’s nice to meet you.” Meredith leaned the stepladder carefully against the tree so as not to crush any of the lights. She made her way closer to Julia’s tiny front porch. “I moved here from Las Vegas a few weeks ago.”

  “I saw someone had moved in. Been meaning to stop over to say hello. You all done with your decorating?”

  “Yes, I think so. Next year I’ll do more.”

  “I’ve got a pot of turkey soup on. Would you like to come over for lunch?”

  Meredith’s stomach growled an answer she hoped Julia couldn’t hear. She had enough time to eat before she had to meet Noah at the Grind. “I’d love to,” she said. “Let me put everything away, and I’ll be right over.”

  “All right.” Julia disappeared inside, closing the door against the cold. Meredith put the stepladder away and brought the trash can back into the garage. She closed the car’s trunk and dashed inside. She put on the outfit she’d worn earlier. If need be, she could leave from Julia’s and head straight to her date.

  Julia’s house was about the size of her own, but it was laid out differently and was filled with antiques. Glass-fronted cabinets held knickknacks and a variety of pretty dishes. There was an old rolltop desk in one corner framed by a pair of ladder-back chairs. Lacy curtains crisscrossed the front window, allowing in shafts of afternoon sunlight.

  “Your house is so pretty,” Meredith said, as Julia led her back to the kitchen.

  “Thank you,” Julia said. “But mostly it’s just old. Just like me.” She said this in a matter-of-fact tone without a trace of self-pity.

  “You’re not exactly old. You’re more of a classic.”

  Julia smiled, and Meredith could see the soft beauty of her features. “Like a Model T?”

  “Vintage is all the rage now, you know.”

  “I like that. I’m not old. I’m just vintage.”

  “There you go. See? It is what it is.”

  “We’ll see what you think when you get to be my age,” Julia said as she removed the lid from a big pot on the stove. “Had a bunch of leftovers from Thanksgiving. Threw most of it in the freezer. I can only eat so many leftovers before I’m ready for something else. But after a couple of weeks, I take the leftovers out and throw them all in a pot.” She stirred the contents of the pot with a great big ladle. “Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing. Chop up some onion and celery. Add some seasoning. We call it stewp. Not quite a stew. Not quite a soup.”

  “It smells delicious,” Meredith said. “Can I help?”

  “Nope,” Julia replied. “Got it all set up at the table there. Baked some bread this morning.” She ladled some of the stewp into a bowl and handed it to Meredith. “Go ahead and sit. It doesn’t matter which place.”

  The table was an old, round, pedestal type that probably weighed five hundred pounds. But it, like Julia, appeared to have aged gracefully and had been lovingly cared for over the years. The wood gleamed dully with the sheen of a recent polishing.

  Julia took the adjacent seat and offered the bread to Meredith. She’d already sliced a portion of it onto an old cutting board. Meredith helped herself to a slice and slathered it with soft butter from a little ceramic pot. She took a bite and groaned in appreciation. “Oh, my goodness. I could eat that entire loaf, I think. This is so good.”

  Julia smiled and spooned up some stewp. “I’m glad you like it.” She blew on her spoonful before she took a bite.

  Meredith didn’t want to abandon her slice of bread just yet, but the aroma from the soup bowl was too much to resist. She also blew on it before she took a spoonful. It was thick, with chunks of turkey and carrots, celery and onion. Bits of other seasonings blended into the broth. It was hearty and definitely tasty.

  “It tastes as good as it smells,” Meredith told Julia. She alternated bites of bread with spoonsful from her bowl.

  “When it’s cold out, I like to bake. And today just seemed like a good day for this.”

  They ate in silence for a little while before Julia said, “I take it you’ve met Noah.”

  “Yes. My first day here, actually. We met at the house, so he could show it to me.”

  “His grandmother and I were great friends for many years.”

  “He did mention it was her house but that he had done all the renovations.”

  “He was always such a good boy. A bit of a prankster though, when he was younger. And he was a bit wild in high school. It always worried Martha, his grandmother.”

  “He seems to have settled down,” Meredith said. “Well, maybe not the prankster side,” she admitted, recalling how he liked to tease. “But he’s a high-school guidance counselor now, so he can’t be too wild.”

  “Oh, I imagine when his mother got sick, that took a lot of the piss and vinegar out of him. Poor Martha. Pamela was her only daughter. I don’t think she ever got over losing her.”

  Meredith put her spoon down so she could give Julia her full attention. “I didn’t know about his mother.”

  “No. I suppose you wouldn’t. But I knew her from when she was young. She and my Marcus were the same age. That girl had a zest for life like no one else. Always a smile on her face. She’d turn the simplest of gatherings into a party. The tiniest event into a celebration. That’s what I remember best about her.”

  Maybe that’s why Noah wanted to celebrate her buying the house and getting the job at the high school, Meredith thought. Why he wanted to celebrate the first snow flurries of the winter.

  “When Pamela was a little thing—oh, maybe eight or nine years old—Martha helped her plant a garden from seeds. When those first sprouts came up? You’d have thought it was the Fourth of July. Pamela was so excited. She invited all the neighbor kids over for a picnic so they could see her success. She was a darling, just like her mother.”

  “You must miss them.”

  “I do. When you get to be my age, you expect a certain amount of loss. But you have to go on living.”

  Meredith thought of the parents she barely remembered, who’d died in a car accident when she was four. Of her grandmother who’d raised her in their stead and who had passed away going on three years. She’d had no choice, as Julia said, but to go on living. And now, maybe, she’d take that one step further and start celebrating all the little moments that made life special. Like meeting Noah for coffee.

  “What’s that smile for?” Julia wanted to know.

  Meredith hadn’t even realized she was smiling. It seemed especially inappropriate when Julia had been talking about loss. “I’m sorry. I just, well, I have a date later, and I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “A date?” Julia’s eyes lit up. “How delightful. It wouldn’t be with anyone I know, would it?”

  There didn’t seem to be any r
eason not to tell her that Meredith could think of. “It’s with Noah.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Julia said. She buttered a slice of bread for herself.

  “It doesn’t?”

  “Not a bit.” Julia took a bite of bread and chewed. When she was done, she said, “I’ve just been sitting here thinking you’d be perfect for him. Even though I just met you.”

  “You have?”

  “You remind me a little bit of Pamela. I can’t really say why. Maybe because if an old lady invited her to lunch, she’d have come and complimented her cooking just like you have. She might even have told me I’m a classic instead of just plain old.”

  “I’ll come visit you anytime you want. With or without lunch as part of the bargain,” Meredith told her. “I don’t know very many people here yet, so it’s nice to make a new friend.”

  “Even if she is a vintage model,” Julia said, smiling happily.

  “Especially if she’s a vintage model,” Meredith singsonged, her voice filled with an exuberant amount of cheer. Julia couldn’t have chosen a more likable neighbor had she been given the opportunity to handpick one herself.