Colors of Christmas

by Newport, Olivia

  The movement felt good. Peace from the evening before still hovered in Angela’s spirit, and now she let Blitzen lead and set the pace. A gray sky might yield snow. More likely it would just be a drab day, and an extra layer beneath her jacket had proven to be wise. Mingling with peace from the blue Christmas service was the exhausting emotional release of staring at her emotions and not bolting. She missed her best friend and grieved her passing. She was allowed this, even at Christmas, even while organizing A Christmas to Remember. In a room full of strangers, each one with a private reason for being there, she’d felt less alone.

  On this final day before A Christmas to Remember, details still awaited. Touch base with Simon about the horses and where to bring them. She hadn’t been too worried about food vendors, because there were several small businesses along Main Street that served food and other groups were regulars at the event to raise funds for their causes, but it wouldn’t hurt to double-check so she would know the answers when people asked the questions. Buford would offer a never-ending supply of cocoa and steaming coffee on various street corners. The women’s ministry at Main Street Church baked Christmas cookies and packaged them attractively for their primary fund-raiser for the coming new year. The bakery would sell an array of other baked goods but honor a tacit agreement with the women’s ministry not to compete for cookie sales. The candy shop would stay open late primarily for its fudge case.

  Angela also needed to verify she had enough people to pass out the blue candles at various stations, and they would need signs cautioning people to handle the flames responsibly. They should only be lit during the parade and only outdoors. The fire department would have a visible presence to enforce safety rules. And she hadn’t talked to Simon Masters about his horses. For her sake, she wanted confirmation he would come to the street corner where she would be awaiting. She’d spent more time on the phone in the last five days than she had in the last five years.

  She was nearly home after a particularly vigorous walk when she caught sight of her neighbor Nora watching out the front window and waved. Rather than simply wave back, Nora barreled out her front door in a loose coat she might have selected for its proximity. When Angela saw her coming, she stopped. She was the one who’d waved. She couldn’t now act as if she hadn’t seen Nora. Blitzen resisted the tightening hold of the leash, but Angela gathered enough of the leash to keep him under control.

  “Thank you again for the lights,” Angela said. “So many! They will definitely be put to use.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Nora said. “Please feel free to keep them.”

  “It will be a good start for rebuilding our supplies.”

  “When I heard you were in charge of A Christmas to Remember,” Nora said, “I assumed the big spruce was beyond your plans. The event is tomorrow, after all.”

  “You assumed correctly,” Angela said. “I imagine a lot of people also heard about the water damage at Main Street Church. A number of things will look different this year.”

  “But the scaffolding,” Nora said. “If you aren’t planning to light the tree, why is there scaffolding?”

  “Scaffolding? I didn’t arrange any scaffolding.”

  “Someone did.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  “Saw it with my own two eyes when I took my husband to the train station early this morning.”

  “Thank you, Nora. I’d better make some calls.”

  Angela tugged at Blitzen’s rope, but he seemed more interested in following Nora up the walkway to her home than following Angela. He weighed seventy pounds, too heavy and strong for her to just pick up and carry to the next house over. She pulled on the leash, and he kept his resistance taut as he turned around to face the other direction.

  “Come on, Blitzen,” Angela said. “It appears that the best part of the day is now over.”

  He looked at her with his best sad puppy look.

  Angela removed one glove to rummage in her jacket pocket and came up with several dog treats from a previous outing. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to buy his compliance.

  The plan worked. Angela left him in the kitchen as she always did before jumping in her car for the three-mile drive into town.

  Sure enough, scaffolding surrounded the tree. A system of ladders and platforms gave access to all sides. No one was using the scaffolding, and she saw no signs of supplies nearby. Whoever had put it up would have to take it down immediately. It would be disappointing enough to the crowd the next evening not to see the tree decorated without drawing attention to the fact by parking scaffolding there.

  Angela scrolled through the contacts list on her phone looking for any likely suspects. She settled on Pete Nicholson.

  “He’s sleeping right now,” Pete’s wife said. “He was up most of the night with some last-minute work.”

  Angela winced. If the hours Pete had given her yesterday morning meant he had to work during the night, her debt of gratitude just tripled in size.

  “If you think of it,” Angela said, “please ask him to call me when he wakes up.”

  Next she popped into a couple of businesses close to the big spruce. Both the thrift store and a small frame shop were at the end of Main Street directly across from the big spruce. Surely someone working inside would have glanced up at some point and noticed the arrival of the scaffolding. It would have involved a sizable truck.

  Inside the thrift store, she flipped through a rack of red sweaters. Ginny was minding the shop.

  “It’s not too late for a Christmas sweater,” Ginny said. “They’re half off.”

  “I just stopped in for a look-see,” Angela said, glancing out the front window.

  “What time will the crew start?” Ginny said.

  “Crew?”

  “For the tree.”

  “I’m still sorting that out,” Angela said. “Did you happen to notice when the scaffolding went up?”

  “Last night. I stayed late to catch up on bookkeeping and noticed the trucks. Everything went up so fast. Obviously these guys knew what they were doing.”

  “Did you recognize who they were?”

  Ginny shrugged. Nobody in Spruce Valley has scaffolding like that. I’m pretty sure it’s rented from a place in Marksbury every year.”

  “Was there a company name on the trucks? Or a logo?”

  “Probably, but I couldn’t see it. It was dark.”

  “Yes.” Angela removed her hand from the only sweater that vaguely tempted her. “I’d better see what’s happening.”

  Next door in the frame shop, she learned only that the young woman behind the counter had not been working yesterday. She arrived at work in the morning, saw the scaffolding, and assumed it was for A Christmas to Remember.

  This was all a horrible mistake. The scaffolding had to come down, or at least be moved out of the way, even if she couldn’t track down who had put it up. She needed help. And the expense—who would have approved this?

  She pulled out her phone, found Gabe’s number, and hit the CALL button.

  “I’ve just picked up Brian,” Gabe said. “We’re going to hang the garlands and wreaths.”

  “That’s great,” Angela said. “Thanks for taking him under your wing.”

  “I also wrangled some more flocking.”

  “Even better,” Angela said. “I’m afraid I need your help with something else.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  “I don’t know who is responsible, but there’s scaffolding around the big spruce. We have nothing to put on the tree. I can’t have all those ladders there tomorrow night.”

  “You can leave that to me,” Gabe said.

  “I don’t think it’s a one-person job.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I promise it won’t be there tomorrow night. See you later.”

  Gabe’s voice held too much cheer for the circumstances, but he ended the call, so Angela couldn’t further reiterate the importance of removing the scaffolding.


  Angela walked down the street to a coffee shop where she could have the second cup she’d intended to have at home before the large metal snafu hijacked her morning. She could sit, sip coffee, and make her calls to the various vendors. An hour later she had reassurance that everything was in order.

  Today, and then tomorrow, and whether the event was a triumph or a catastrophe, at least it would be over.

  When she went outside again, Brian grinned at her from inside Gabe’s rental car. The window came down, and Gabe leaned over Brian to speak to her.

  “Got time to help us a bit? We’d love to have you. We need someone to let us into the church.”

  “It’s a tempting offer.” Angela’s eyes lifted to the scaffolding two blocks away.

  “I’ll take care of the problem you mentioned,” Gabe said. “You can trust me on that.”

  During the last few days, it had been hard to trust anyone for anything. But Gabe hadn’t let her down. It was unfair to presume he would just because others had.

  Angela got in the car, and Gabe accelerated.

  “I thought we’d start at the church and work in the other direction first and then come back this way.”

  “And work right up to the tree,” Brian said.

  The tree.

  They went to the church for a ladder and a supply of wreaths and garlands. Gabe opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a dolly that unfolded to a small flatbed that would easily hold a box of wreaths and a box of garlands and a supply of flocking. When the boxes were empty, they could roll it back to the church and reload.

  They made steady progress. Gabe carried the ladder and Brian pushed the cart. Angela was in charge of a box of small nails and a spool of fish line. During one break, Angela paced down the street to Buford’s for three sandwiches, three bags of chips, and three bottles of water. Then they worked in the other direction. Gabe patiently let Brian do as much of the work on the ladder as he wanted to, and Brian had the perfect touch with the spray-on flocking.

  Angela looked up and down the street as they were near the end of the task. It didn’t look terrible. In fact, it was inviting. Tomorrow the lanterns would go up, and when the lights lit the streets, it would look even better.

  For the sake of Carole’s memory, Angela hoped the event would not be a disaster, after all.

  They were down to the last three wreaths when Gabe said, “Angela, would you mind very much running back to the church for the wire cutters? I had them earlier, but I must have left them at lunchtime.”

  “We’ve done very well without them,” Angela said. The wire on the garland was easy enough to twist and snap, and they were nearly finished.

  “Still, I’d like to have them for some touch-up work.”

  “It’ll be dark by the time I get back.”

  “True. Maybe you know where to grab a flashlight at the church?”

  He was persistent.

  “I left my car not far from here this morning,” Angela said. “Maybe it would be faster to drive.”

  “If you think so,” Gabe said.

  Angela looked at Brian. “Would you like to come along?”

  “I need Brian here,” Gabe said.

  In fact, Angela didn’t know where to find a flashlight at the church. She scrounged through several closets, but her keys didn’t open everything in the building, only the outer door and the rooms she normally used with the choir. Gabe would have to do without light, but she picked up the cutting tool and took it back with her. As she drove slowly along Main Street, hoping for a parking spot close to where she’d left Gabe and Brian, children and adults seemed to spill out of the shops and stop outside to watch something. Angela lifted her eyes as well.

  Two figures were on the scaffolding around the big spruce. Angela’s heart leaped into her throat. One of them was a child.

  Brian.

  She swung sharply into the nearest open parking spot and jumped out of the car. Gabe promised to take care of the scaffolding. That did not include letting an eleven-year-old child scale its heights.

  Where was Gabe anyway?

  She narrowed her eyes and peered, all the while jogging toward the scaffold.

  Gabe was up there with Brian. Brian must have decided to go up on his own, and Gabe followed to bring him down safely. Yes, that must be it.

  From about halfway up, the two of them leaned over a railing, and Gabe swung one arm in some kind of signal. Lights spiraling up the spruce tree went on, and a unanimous cheer rose up from onlookers on the street.

  Angela’s jaw hung open, and she made several attempts to close it before being successful.

  Blue lights. Hundreds of them—no, there must be thousands on a tree that size. Where did he get them and when had he dressed the tree? She’d been with him for most of the day. They’d been together last evening as well, with no ladders in sight.

  Brian ran along a platform, his steps clanging against the metal, and found two long ladders to descend.

  “Careful!” Angela shouted. She didn’t want to explain to the boy’s parents or grandparents that he’d injured himself in these particular circumstances.

  “That was the coolest thing ever!” Brian glowed in the blue ambiance.

  “When? How?” Angela put one hand on Brian’s shoulder and looked past him toward Gabe on the ladder.

  “My dad and Gabe and me and Mr. Nicholson and some of his friends.” Brian’s tone was joyous. “We did it. They let me help. We stayed up practically all night, and I wasn’t tired one bit.”

  Gabe strode toward her, grinning.

  “But I didn’t see any lights today,” Angela said. “You can’t have strung them just in the last half hour.”

  “Of course not,” Gabe said. “Pete and I were just finishing up the electrical. The lights aren’t meant to be seen during the day. They’re deep into the branches and fastened snug.”

  “Pete?” Angela said.

  Gabe pointed and Angela saw Pete fiddling with an industrial electrical box at the back of the thrift store.

  “He won’t blow out the circuits on the whole town, will he?” Angela said.

  Gabe shook his head. “When he says he knows how to manage the lights, he’s telling the truth.”

  CHAPTER 18

  The bed sank on one side with Blitzen’s weight, and Angela’s first conscious thought on Saturday morning was his breathing—more like panting—at the back of her neck. She flung one arm around, doing her best to aim for his mass without having to open her eyes. Her hand found his chest and she scratched it. Blitzen regarded this as an invitation to lick her cheek, which he did with enthusiasm.

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “I’m getting up.”

  For the first time all week, Angela hadn’t set an alarm, but she should have known the dog would want to go out right on schedule. Grabbing her robe off a hook in the bathroom and looking under the bed for the second slipper, she was ready to stumble downstairs, let the dog out—with a warning not to leave the yard—and make coffee.

  She hadn’t expected to see snow flurries when she opened the back door and Blitzen brushed past her. The chance that it would amount to anything was remote. Spruce Valley’s location sometimes caught the edge of a winter storm lashing most of its vehemence on towns to the north, while being far enough south that many years Christmas Day was dry and a balmy forty-five degrees. Still, snow flurries on the day of A Christmas to Remember added nicely to the ambiance of the event.

  Through the window as she sipped her coffee, Angela watched Blitzen romp in the backyard. Carole always said Blitzen liked the snow more than any of the other dogs she’d owned, but in the months since Angela took in Blitzen, Spruce Valley hadn’t had enough snow for Angela to witness the joyous phenomenon for herself. The white stuff was starting to stick, and Angela could make out the suggestion of Blitzen’s footprints.

  She’d slept well, but it was time to get going. Blitzen was content in the backyard while Angela ate a quick English muffin and got d
ressed. Then she called him into the house with a promise of a proper walk later in the day. Gabe and Brian would be waiting for her at Main Street Church. The last thing to do was hang the lanterns, one above every shop door whose architecture allowed it.

  The two of them sat on the front steps of church as if they’d known each other all their lives rather than just two days.

  Outside the paper goods shop, Travis stopped for a close look. “You did that with paper from my store?”

  “Sweet as, mate!” Gabe grinned.

  “I would never have guessed.”

  They moved on down the street, shop after shop.

  At the candle shop, Elinor came outside to watch as Brian went up on the ladder and hung a loop of fishing line on a hook in the gabled entrance.

  “Blue,” she said. “I suppose it was me who gave you the idea of a Christmas where everything was blue.”

  Angela minded her tongue. “It’s coming together.”

  “I heard you struck a deal with Buford because he never would have sold this … well, I can’t call it greenery, now can I?”

  “Sweet as, mate,” Gabe said.

  Elinor pinched her face.

  “It’s all right,” Brian said, descending the ladder. “It means ‘yes’ or ‘awesome.’ I think I might start saying it.”

  Angela and Gabe laughed. They moved on to the next shop, a used bookstore. Gabe leaned his head toward Angela and whispered.

  “Kim sighting, ten o’clock.”

  That was like saying, “Don’t think about an elephant.” She turned to look. Kim made eye contact, waved a hand in greeting, and headed toward them.

  “You seem to have some very different ideas about A Christmas to Remember,” Kim said.

  “There have been some extenuating circumstances,” Angela said.

  “I heard about the water in the church basement. Everyone has. But I would have thought you would pursue a more traditional look.”

  “Garlands, wreaths, paper lanterns, lights,” Angela said. “That sounds traditional to me.”

  “You know what I mean,” Kim said.

  “Sweet as!” Brian said.

  Angela and Gabe laughed. Kim scowled first at Brian and then at Gabe.