A Christmas by the Sea

by Melody Carlson

  “Probably won’t make it to the bank until Monday anyway.” He slipped it into his pocket. “Feel free to call me if you need help with anything else.”

  She thanked him, and as soon as he left, she told Jackson they needed to run to town. She pointed to Oliver. “But what do we do with him?”

  “Can’t he come with us?”

  She considered this. “Good idea. I think I’ll take Gordon’s advice and swing by the vet clinic to—”

  “Do I have to go with you to town?” Jackson said. “If I stay home, I can start clearing out my room, you know, get it ready to paint.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Maybe you could bring home some dark blue paint.”

  “I suppose I could.” If Caleb’s check was big enough to cover it.

  “And Oliver can keep me company. Like Gordon said, he’s a good watchdog. He really makes me feel safe, Mom. You know, when I’m home alone . . . or walking on the beach.”

  Wendy could tell she was being manipulated, but it was hard to argue. Besides, it would be easier to run errands—and go to the vet clinic—without Jackson and Oliver tagging along. “Okay,” she agreed. “But you both stay in the house while I’m gone. If you need anything, call me. I should be back in an hour.”

  As she parked in front of the hardware store, Wendy thought of a few more items that she could use from there . . . except she didn’t have the funds. However, she remembered how Poppa had kept an account with the store. She wondered if they still did that, or if she could open one. By the time they sent her first bill, she’d have sold the cottage and could easily repay them with interest if necessary.

  But first things first. She needed to get and deposit that check. Like he’d promised, Caleb’s store was open but, to her dismay, Crystal was working there today. “I, uh, I thought you worked next door,” Wendy said tentatively.

  “I work here . . . and there . . . wherever they need me,” Crystal said lightly. “It’s all in the family.” She laughed. “So are you furniture shopping?”

  “No, I’m here to see Caleb.” Wendy forced what she hoped looked like a friendly smile.

  “Caleb’s busy.” Crystal smiled but her eyes seemed chilly. “He’s got this big dining table project to complete. It’s this amazing piece of live-edge wood and two benches and several chairs. Really beautiful. Anyway, he’s got to get it finished by early next week. He does not want to be disturbed.”

  “Oh.” Wendy pursed her lips.

  “Sorry.” Crystal looked a bit smug.

  Wendy remained at the counter, trying to think of something. “Well, Caleb asked me to come by,” she told Crystal. “He had something for me.” She looked around. “Or maybe he left it out here.”

  Crystal frowned. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s just that he told me he’d be here and to come—”

  “Fine.” Crystal’s tone grew sharp. “I’ll go check with him. But I do hate to interrupt his work. Caleb is an artist, you know. He really shouldn’t be disturbed.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

  “Never mind, I’m going.” And just like that she disappeared into the back room.

  Wendy felt guilty as she waited. Maybe it really was wrong to disturb him like this. But, really, wouldn’t it only take a minute or two? When Crystal didn’t come right back, Wendy felt even more guilty.

  “Hello?” a female voice called from the front of the store. “Anyone here?”

  “I’m here.” Wendy went over to see an older couple standing by a coffee table.

  “Oh, good.” The woman pointed to the table. “What can you tell us about that?”

  “Well, it’s handmade by a very talented local artist whose work sells all around the country.” Wendy smiled nervously. “Caleb Colton is the craftsman. He makes all the wood furnishings in this shop. Each is a one-of-a-kind piece. Completely unique.” She glanced at the tag on the table, trying not to blink at the price. “And as you can see, this one is made from black walnut. Caleb uses all sorts of wood.” She reached down to stroke the smooth surface. “Isn’t this wood grain amazing?”

  “Yes.” The woman nodded. “I absolutely love it—and it would look perfect in our great room.”

  “It’s rustic yet elegant.” Wendy wished she could afford such a piece for the cottage.

  “Well, then I guess we better get it,” the man said. “I assume you deliver?”

  “I, uh, yes, of course,” Wendy assured him. If Caleb didn’t deliver, Wendy felt certain it would fit in the back of her Subaru. And for the price of this piece, Caleb would be a fool not to provide free delivery.

  “Then write it up,” the man instructed.

  Wendy was just going up to the counter when Caleb emerged. Wearing work clothes, a fine coating of sawdust, and a warm smile, he greeted her.

  “I just sold your walnut coffee table,” she whispered to him.

  “What?”

  “That couple over there—they assumed I worked here and I just played along. Do you deliver?”

  “You bet.” He chuckled. “Nice work, Wendy.”

  “You folks are in luck,” Wendy told the couple. “You’ll get to meet the artist now.” And just like that she introduced Caleb to them—and they all visited congenially, discussing the walnut table and where Caleb found the wood for it.

  “We just closed on a beach house a few miles out of town,” the man explained. “We hope to be in by Christmas—and she hopes to have it all furnished by then.” He shook his head at his wife like this was doubtful.

  “I don’t expect it to be completely furnished,” his wife told him. “But I would like it to be comfortable for when the family comes.” She turned to Wendy. “I just haven’t been able to find the perfect dining table yet.”

  “Caleb is working on a beautiful dining table right now,” Wendy told them. Okay, she could barely remember seeing it the other day when she’d been in his woodshop, but she had no doubt it would be beautiful. “But I do believe it’s a commissioned piece. Right, Caleb?”

  “Yes, it’s a whole dining set that I hope to finish in the next few days.”

  “How long does it take to make a dining table?” the woman asked.

  “Depends.” He rubbed his chin. “On my schedule . . . and what sort of table you’re wanting . . . and whether I have the right products on hand.” As the woman described what she hoped to find, Caleb flipped through a notebook of photos, showing her various tables he’d made in the past.

  “This is it!” The woman pointed to a live-edge maple table with black metal legs. “I need it long enough to seat ten people. Can you do that?”

  Caleb nodded. “Let me look into my wood supply and get back to you on it.” They were just exchanging business cards when Crystal returned to the shop. Wendy couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been doing all this time, but had no intention of asking.

  “Crystal will write up today’s purchase for you,” Caleb told the couple. “And she’ll arrange for delivery.” He shook their hands. “And hopefully we’ll come up with a plan to get you folks a dining table in time for Christmas.”

  As they thanked him, Caleb led Wendy to the back room, and after closing the door behind him, he picked up an envelope with her name on it. “Is this what you came for?”

  “Yes, but I feel bad for interrupting your work,” she said quickly. “I know your time is precious and you need to get this finished.” She ran her hand over the smooth tabletop. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Uh-huh.” Suddenly he tore the envelope into pieces and dropped it into a trash can of shavings.

  “Oh.” Wendy didn’t know what to say. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds just now . . . I didn’t know what—”

  Caleb just laughed as he pulled open a drawer and, removing a checkbook, started to write. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. But my salespeople work on commission. And that means I owe you for the walnut table and—”


  “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

  “I probably should include you on the commissioned table too. After all, you were the one to mention that to her.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Nicely done.”

  “But I didn’t expect to—”

  “It’s only fair.” He tore off the check. “I just thought it’d be easier to simply write one check—with both the shells and commission. Here you go.”

  “Well, thank you.” She had to stop herself from spilling the truth—just how badly she needed this right now. “I appreciate it.”

  “I appreciate your salesmanship.” He grinned. “Maybe you’ll consider working here . . . well, once the season really starts in the late spring. In the meantime, I’ve got an agreement with my sister and mom to share employees during the off-season. Crystal kind of floats between shops.” He grimaced.

  “That makes sense. And now I’ll let you get back to your work. I know you don’t want any distractions.”

  “Hey, some distractions are most welcome.” His smile sent a happy rush through her.

  “Well, I, uh, I left Jackson home alone.” She felt her face growing warm as she explained about Oliver. “And I need to get dog food and more paint and some other things—and I have to be home in an hour and . . . well, I better go.” She knew she sounded foolish, but couldn’t help herself.

  “And how about tomorrow?” Caleb picked up a wood plane, blowing a curly shaving out of it. “Jackson still planning to help me hang lights at three?”

  She nodded. “He’s counting on it.”

  Caleb grinned. “See you then.”

  As she went back into the store, Wendy suppressed the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl, but when she saw Crystal’s icy glare, her giddiness evaporated.

  “Did you know that those people actually assumed you worked here?” Crystal demanded. “Were you trying to pass yourself off as—”

  “I wasn’t trying to pass as anything,” Wendy responded firmly. “I only wanted to help—to make sure Caleb didn’t lose a customer.”

  “Caleb’s customers are my responsibility. You could’ve gotten me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb Caleb, and I thought you’d be right back.”

  “I suppose I should thank you for your help.” Crystal’s tone sounded sarcastic. “But in the future, I’d prefer to handle our customers myself.”

  Wendy suddenly remembered the commission Caleb had added to her check. How would Crystal react to that? Hopefully Wendy would never have to find out. “Sorry to interfere.” Wendy moved toward the door. “See you around.”

  As she hurried out, Wendy felt like she’d poked a hornets’ nest. For whatever reason, and there were probably plenty, Crystal appeared to have targeted Wendy. And like Jackson had pointed out after Thanksgiving, Crystal made no secret of her interest in Caleb. Although Wendy felt fairly certain that Caleb’s interest in Crystal was minimal, Crystal was clearly marking her territory wherever Caleb was concerned. And that was fine. Because really, why would Wendy want to upset anything? She and Jackson would be long gone in a few weeks—maybe sooner if all went well. Wendy’s best hope of getting out of debt and putting their lives back on track hadn’t changed. She needed to sell that cottage, hopefully soon, and go back to her job in Cincinnati.

  ten

  WENDY FELT a sense of accomplishment as she carried her packages into the cottage. Her trip to town had paid off nicely. Not only had she deposited money to cover Gordon’s check, she had enough remaining to buy groceries, get gas, and have a little cash left over. She opened a credit account at the hardware store and got Jackson’s paint and a number of other things necessary for getting the cottage into tip-top shape. Finally, she stopped by the veterinarian clinic to check the “lost pets” bulletin board. Unfortunately, no one had reported a missing dog that sounded anything like Oliver. Just the same, she’d filled out a “found dog” card and prominently posted it. It wasn’t as eye-catching as the ones with photos, but it was better than nothing. Hopefully someone would claim Oliver before it was time to return to Ohio.

  “I got your paint,” she called up the stairway.

  “Great,” Jackson bounded down the stairs with Oliver behind him. “I got my room all cleared out and just finished masking off the baseboard and window like you told me to do.”

  She handed him the can. “It’s called Sailor’s Sea Blue.”

  “Cool name! I wanna get started right now.”

  “I need your help first.” She explained that her goal was to get the kitchen cabinets painted today. “But before I begin, I want to peel the old floor covering up. Otherwise it could mess up the freshly painted cabinets. Anyway, I could use some help.”

  “Yeah, I was wondering about that floor. It’s pretty creepy.”

  “Hopefully it’ll come up easily. It’s been there for as long as I can remember.”

  Jackson started to tug on a curling corner. “There’s not much holding it down.”

  “I thought we might put down more checkerboard floor like in the bathroom.” She jerked up a large piece, pulling it back to reveal wide planks of wood. “But, hey, this is nice.” She touched the pale grain. “I think it’s pine.”

  “Can we just use it as our kitchen floor?”

  “I don’t see why not.” Before long, they had all the old ugly vinyl removed and piled in the junk pile that Gordon had promised to remove on Monday. Back in the kitchen they both admired the rustic yet handsome wood floor. “We can probably sand down these old patches of glue.” Wendy swept the debris into the dustpan.

  “I think it’s lots nicer than that other floor. I wonder why they ever covered it up.”

  “They probably thought the vinyl was more modern.” She dumped the dustpan. “But I love this.”

  “So can I go paint my room now?” he asked. “I really want to see what color it’s going to be.”

  “Let’s keep Oliver down here while you’re painting.” She patted the dog’s head. “I got him some dog food.” She reached into a bag from the hardware store. “And this.” She produced a sturdy red leash.

  “Thanks, Mom!” He hugged her then turned to the dog. “Okay, Oliver.” He pointed a finger. “You stay here with Mom until I get finished and then, if there’s time, I’ll take you down to the beach.”

  Oliver wagged his tail like he understood as Wendy dug out a chipped mixing bowl and filled it with dry dog food. She carried this and his water bowl out to the laundry room. “You stay here for a while,” she told him. “I’ve got some painting to do.”

  As Wendy opened the can of turquoise paint, she hoped it wasn’t too bold. A potential buyer could be turned off by a strong choice. Even so, she liked it. She’d already masked off the glass panes in the upper cabinets and spread out the plastic drop cloths that Caleb had encouraged her to buy to protect the countertops and wood floors. Feeling a bit nervous over this color choice, she started to paint.

  By that evening, she had all the upper cabinets painted. She stepped back to survey her work. Was it too much? She wasn’t sure, but the turquoise color simply made her happy. It was alive and fun and suited the cottage. She’d gotten some nice kitchen knobs at the hardware store, just simple rounds of pewter color, but when she held one up, she knew it was a huge improvement over the old chipped wooden ones. In fact, it looked perfect! Who knew hard work could actually be this fun? But now it was time to call it a day and throw some dinner together. The lower cabinets would have to wait.

  Since the kitchen was so chaotic, Wendy suggested they roast hot dogs in the fireplace, and Jackson was more than happy to make a fire. Even with the disarray all around them, Wendy couldn’t help but notice how cozy it all felt. It would be hard to leave this behind.

  The next morning, they both went back to work. Jackson was determined to finish his room and put it back together, and Wendy wanted to paint the rest of the cabinets. As she steadily worked, she lost track of the time and was surprised when Jackson announced it was almost time
to go to town.

  “What?” She looked up from painting.

  “To help Caleb put up lights.” He grabbed Oliver’s leash. “I’ll take him out for a quick run, but we should go pretty soon.”

  It was hard to stop painting with only one cabinet left, but when Jackson and Oliver came back, she set down her brush and got her keys.

  “My room is all done,” Jackson bragged as they got in the car.

  “Good job.”

  “Can you believe how much we’ve accomplished in such a short time?”

  “We’re way ahead of schedule.”

  “What schedule?”

  “Oh, I don’t know . . .” She considered this as she drove. Was it time to tell him of her plan to list the cottage with a Realtor? But they were close to town—and she thought it was unfair to spring bad news right before she dropped him off.

  “Do you mean before Christmas?” he persisted.

  “We definitely want to be done before Christmas. But you know we’re getting it ready to sell, Jackson. I’ve told you—”

  “But we’ll be here for Christmas,” he insisted. “We have to be here for Christmas, Mom. And you don’t know what might happen after that. Remember, you promised to trust God.”

  “Well, at any rate, it would be nice to have it mostly wrapped up by next week. And I think it’s possible.” She tossed an uneasy glance his way. His obstinate denial was hard to deal with. Especially when he threw God into the mix. But what if he came home one day to see a FOR SALE sign in the yard? Would that be enough to convince him they couldn’t stay here? Still, this wasn’t the time for a painful reality check. “So, you never told me what you thought about the paint color in your room.”

  “I love it. It’s perfect. Almost exactly what I’d been imagining.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.” She turned toward town.