Santa, Bring My Baby Back

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Santa, Bring My Baby Back Page 15

by Cheryl Harper


  Willodean obviously agreed. She refused to come over again until Grace got a little less brainstormy. But Charlie had seemed pretty impressed when he stopped to read the first list, her ideas on spreading the word about the chapel.

  Reminded of Charlie, she watched him work. The rolled sleeves of his black flannel shirt showed muscled forearms that rippled as he typed. And it was hard to ignore how far gone she was if she was lusting over a man working on a database. He didn’t seem to notice she was in the room. Charlie was pretty good at focusing.

  When her phone rang, she didn’t even glance at the caller ID. “Hello?”

  “Well, Grace Andersen, I was convinced I was going to have get on a plane to Vegas so I could claim your body.” Her mother’s voice was as dry as ever. Grace didn’t think she’d ever heard her mother in a panic. Today was no different.

  “Ah, hi, Mom.” Grace watched Charlie’s head shoot up, and she shrugged her shoulders. Of course that would get his attention. “Sorry I haven’t called you this week.”

  “And I guess you forgot about last week too.” She hadn’t. She’d been busy last week, what with getting married and all. Plus, she hadn’t wanted to run the risk of telling her mother about the wedding, Tommy Joe Huffle, or anything else that might cast a cloud on what was supposed to be a magical day. It was hard to keep a secret from Ann Andersen.

  Grace cleared her throat. “Well, I was sort of waiting for the right time to give you some great news. I guess this works.”

  Her mother said, “You’re coming home.” She could hear a thread of happiness in her voice. Or maybe it was I-told-you-so. Grace wanted to go with happiness.

  “Well, no, but I am closer. I’ve got a great new job in Memphis.” She turned her chair to look out into the empty lobby of the second floor and waited.

  Her mother sighed. “Doing what now?”

  Grace took a deep breath. “Event planning for a hotel. I think I’m going to be really good at it too.”

  “For how long, Gracie? How long will you stick this one out?” In her head, Grace could see her mother slowly shaking her head.

  She wished she knew the answer. She didn’t so she ignored the question. She’d gotten pretty good at that. Her mother hated it, but it was hard to argue with someone who refused to engage. “Good news is that I think I can make it home for Christmas this year. I’ll get a bus ticket, so if you or Daddy could pick me up in Knoxville, I’d love to see everyone.”

  As she said it, she realized it was true. Always before she’d hated the idea of going home without a television series or a movie role or even a national commercial to show for her time. But now, it seemed like she’d decided this might be her success.

  “Of course we’ll pick you up. We’ve missed you.” Her mother didn’t say anything for a minute, and Grace was sure she could hear a million unspoken bits of advice floating around. “And you know we’ll send the money for you to get home any time you need it. That part hasn’t changed, Grace.” The certainty that this was how her whole adventure would end turned her mother’s generous offer into another reminder that her dream had been silly all along and the longer it went, the sillier it got.

  Grace squeezed her eyes shut and tried to tell herself that it was just the way her mother talked. The crushing guilt could only hit her if she let it. “Uh, okay, Mom. When are you celebrating? I can’t wait to have some of your turkey and dressing again.”

  “Christmas night. Both Kevin and Christy have to celebrate with in-laws on Christmas Eve. It won’t be a full Christmas dinner. Your father bought two dozen pork chops, so that’s what we’re having.”

  Of course. Not even holiday tradition could stand in the way of Andersen practicality. “Well, I’ve just started this job, but I think my boss will be happy to give me a day or two to celebrate.”

  “We’d like to have you, but don’t screw up a good job over it.”

  Grace shook her head and had to take a deep breath before she could answer. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut, shook her hand out, and forced a smile. “Of course not, Mom. I’d never do that.” Not now.

  Instead of listing all the perfectly acceptable paychecks she’d already lost, her mother was silent. If Grace concentrated, she thought she might hear her mother biting her tongue. Maybe that was a sign of growth.

  “You just let us know when to pick you up, and we’ll be there. You could try giving me a call. Now that we know the phone works.”

  Grace laughed at her mother’s deadpan delivery. Like she had a million times before even when she wasn’t exactly sure her mother was joking. That sarcasm was a lot more like her mother. “I’ll do that. I can’t wait to see you all. I guess I’ll need to get some Christmas gifts, though, and in a hurry.”

  “Oh, no, we don’t exchange gifts anymore. No one has the time or the money to waste on exchanging scarves and the like.”

  Grace nodded. She should have expected that too. So maybe she’d never been thrilled at whatever hand-me-down had been washed up and wrapped for her on Christmas morning, but the package itself, with the bright paper and ribbon… that had been exciting. That had represented the hope and the possibility of Christmas.

  But the whole conversation reminded her that, even though she’d been away and she had changed, home had stayed exactly the same. No matter how much she wanted it to be different, she had a feeling she’d be just as out of step as ever when she sat down at the table, the lone Andersen who would have chosen turkey even if it wasn’t on sale and wrapping up scarves for fun.

  Her mother cleared her throat. “You need to get back to work, but tell me more about this job. Event planning. Like throwing parties? You’d like that.” Her tone said she had no idea why, but Grace was happy to have her interest.

  “Sure, parties, conferences, meetings, weddings. The hotel, the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel, is inspired by Elvis so the events will all be a lot of fun.” She braced an elbow on her desk and rested her forehead on her hand.

  “Elvis. A themed hotel.” After a beat, her mother added, “Now that sounds more like you.”

  And Grace fought the urge to explain or cry or argue or… she didn’t even know but there it was, the tone of voice that said she was doing it all wrong again.

  “I could do well here, make a place. Give me a chance. You’ll see.”

  Her mother sighed again. “Of course, Gracie. It’s just that… at some point, you have to settle. You have to find something permanent.”

  Grace glanced over her shoulder to see if Charlie was eavesdropping as shamelessly as she would be in the same position. He continued to type away on his computer, his e-mail program open now. “The thing is, this place feels permanent to me. I fit here. And I’m doing an amazing job already.” She glanced at the lists again and nodded as she said it. It was all true.

  “Well, if you make it for Christmas dinner, bring pictures. We’d love to see more of the place.” That was her mother’s attempt at being encouraging.

  “Mom, I’m coming. Count on it.” And the first picture she was going to show them was of this office. Maybe she could get Charlie to pose too.

  “Good. Can’t wait to have you home again.” Reading between her mother’s lines, Grace wondered if her mother thought once she made it there, Grace might not want to leave again. Picturing her mother’s slight frown and her father’s mostly confused look around her, she knew she would always want to leave again. Visits home were something to cherish, to look forward to, mainly because they were brief and rare. The idea of moving back home made her stomach hurt.

  “I’ll check the bus schedule and call you after I buy my ticket to let you know when and where, okay? I’m working now so I should get back to it.”

  The bus ticket was going to eat up most of the check she’d planned to keep after paying down her hotel and wedding bill, but it would be worth it. That alone would please her mother and pleasing her mother was rare enough that she was happy to give up the idea of another shopping trip.

 
; “You do that. I miss you.”

  Grace could hear the truth in her mother’s voice. And it made her happy and sad. They were so different. They’d always have trouble talking to each other, but she never really doubted her mother loved her. It was just hard to believe her mother liked her sometimes.

  “Love you, Mom.”

  Her mother said, “Love you, Gracie,” and Grace ended the call. She plopped the phone down on the desk and scrunched up her face and waved her hands around while she paced back and forth in the tiny spot in front of the door.

  “Should I have left?”

  Grace opened her eyes to see Charlie watching her, his lips turned up at the corners because he was no doubt amused by her weird habit.

  “Making the face helps me get rid of fear or whatever. Always has. I started it with stage fright, but now… it helps cheer me up.” She put her hands to her cheeks. “And my mother… sometimes I need a little cheering up after I talk to her.”

  He nodded. “I get that.” She knew he did. Probably more than anyone she knew, he understood how hard it was to love someone so much and never see eye to eye.

  “You don’t think Willodean would mind if I took two days at Christmas to go home, do you?” She wrung her hands as she realized she had to ask these things in advance. She was working in the real world, and she wanted her job and her nice apartment to be waiting for her when she came back.

  Charlie gave her the are-you-kidding look. “She’d buy you the ticket and send you herself if she knew you wanted to go. She’ll be happy to give you the time off.”

  “Money for a bus ticket…” She plopped down in her chair. “Good thing we won’t be exchanging gifts. They’ll just have to enjoy my shining presence as the best Christmas gift ever. Or I could sing ‘Love Me Tender’ for them. Far as I know, nobody in my family hates it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him open his mouth and close it again. “Spit it out, whatever it is you’re dying to say.”

  “Let me give you the money for the ticket.”

  His voice was all business, the same bossy tone she’d heard every time he’d warned Willodean about trusting her, and she hated it.

  “You don’t even have to pay me back.” He slapped his forehead. “Forget that. I’ll just take you home. Sevierville’s not that far from Newport.” He nodded like he was satisfied everything was settled properly and turned back to her laptop.

  “Not so fast.” She waited for him to turn back around. “You’re forgetting some things. First, a girl like me doesn’t take handouts. Never have, never will. I’m happy to work a little extra to pay for a bus ticket. Maybe I can pick up a shift or two at Viva Las Vegas.” Charlie shook his head and started to answer, but she held up her hand. She was surprised he waited. “And it’s Christmas, Charlie. You need to be here at the hotel, not six hours away. Besides, my mother might not survive the wondrous surprise of such an upright gentleman escorting me.” Of course she would. If anything showed on her mother’s face, it would only be mild surprise. But he didn’t know that.

  “It’s fine. I’ll go home and come back. Everybody’s happy.” He nodded as he said it and pointed at the laptop like her silly independence was ruining his work flow.

  “No way. I’ll buy a bus ticket today, after I talk to Willodean.” For some reason, the idea that he would go so far out of his way to help her felt weird. She was so used to doing it all on her own for herself that it was hard to imagine a world in which a man would drive across the state of Tennessee so she could have Christmas at home with her family, especially this man, the one who’d been ready to call her in for grand theft auto.

  He sighed. “You don’t have to prove anything anymore, Grace. I believe you never intended to take advantage of anyone, you always pay your way, and even if you’d married Tommy Joe Huffle, he would have gotten the better end of the deal.” He got up and walked over to sit on the corner of the desk. “I was wrong.”

  “You didn’t even stutter as you said that. Who are you and what have you done with my Charlie?”

  “‘My Charlie’? I like the way that sounds.” She liked it too and the way the corner of his mouth turned up. “And when I said ‘girl like you’ last night, all I meant was fun, social, not anything else.”

  Willing to take him at his word all of sudden because of her improved mental outlook, Grace nodded. “Okay, but still… work, you know?” She didn’t know if she meant only Saturday or the fact that he was the boss’s son or both or something else she hadn’t even thought of. She just wanted him to be sure.

  “Yeah, I know. We will. And then maybe, after work is over tomorrow, we can reevaluate, okay?” He reached over to turn the laptop. “Let me show you what I’ve set up so far to make sure I’m on the right track.” He clicked and pointed and talked about the changes he’d made to the forms to make her job easier and the preliminary calendar software he’d gotten from one of the firms he’d contacted. And she was impressed.

  She was also happy to have his help. Men who got excited about software projects and offered to drive her six hours out of their way with no strings attached were rare in Grace’s world. And she was certain that Charlie would have no idea what she was talking about if she pointed out his specialness. He was his mother’s son that way.

  If he kept it up, she was in serious danger of rolling to a stop right here in Memphis, Tennessee. That idea scared her to death, but for the first time ever she could see how that end could be the beginning of something fabulous.

  Chapter Ten

  * * *

  ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Charlie had decided that spending time with Grace but not being able to touch her was a surefire way to drive himself insane.

  They’d worked a full day of crazy weddings, and he was glad to have had her help. The last couple, retirees who’d rekindled an old flame through Facebook, had gone whole hog with multiple songs, readings from the Bible and their own really bad poetry, and he’d needed her help to keep everything on track. They’d worked well together. But he could just tell she was getting ready to cry when the groom, a short man in a blue tuxedo, had broken up and had to grab a big white handkerchief from his pocket to make it through. He’d raised both eyebrows at Grace and watched her sniff and pull herself together. Then he’d winked to see the corners of her mouth turn up.

  Now he pulled down the streamers fastened to the ends of the pews while he waited for her to return from helping the bride pack up her stuff. He figured there would be a big party over in Viva Las Vegas as soon as the bride and groom appeared. They looked like they knew how to celebrate.

  “All right, I think everything’s locked up. We can call this Saturday finished.” Grace sat down and then immediately stretched out on the pew with a tired sigh. “And I think I’m going to celebrate my first week with a hamburger from Viva Las Vegas and the romance novel Randa left on my doorstep.” She turned her head. “What about you? I know you’re planning to leave early in the morning.”

  He couldn’t tell how she felt about it either. He wanted her to be as melancholy at the thought as he was, but whatever she’d done to convince herself that they were better as friends was working.

  “Yeah, pretty early.”

  Grace eased up to face him, her elbows propped on the back of the pew. “Tired, Charlie?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, a little, but instead of the party at Viva Las Vegas, I was wondering if you’d like to share a pizza. I’ll pick it up. Know a great place…” It was pizza. Who could turn down pizza?

  He thought she was going to, but instead she said, “Okay, sounds good. I need to know a good pizza place since I don’t cook if I can help it.”

  “Really? I thought you were some sort of chef or something?” He tried to remember the list of her jobs. There was something about cooking in there.

  “Raw foods chef. No real cooking required, although I’ve always wanted to take a cooking class. The last time I tried to make rice on the stove, I nearly boiled myself to a three-alarm fire. I
didn’t lose my job that time, but my roommate strongly encouraged me to never cook anything ever again.” Her face was at once sad and amused when she smiled up at him. “I would love to be able to make a chocolate cake without having to call the fire department.”

  “Why haven’t you done that? Seems a simple enough goal.” He tried to come up with any reason he’d volunteer for a cooking class and couldn’t.

  She shrugged. “Never had the time. Or money. And finding both at once…” She smiled brightly. “But I have not given up yet.”

  A terrible thought crossed Charlie’s mind. “You said you didn’t think you were a vegetarian anymore, right?” He tried to be open-minded when he said it, but the truth was that it would be a hard thing to let go of what might be the perfect woman, except for her difficulties in settling down and financial planning, but giving up the perfect steak would be nearly impossible. He was a big believer in the power of the perfect steak.

  “For about six months, I was a vegetarian.” She pursed her lips and then busied herself with picking up his pile of streamers.

  “And then what happened?”

  She motioned vaguely as she shoved them in a garbage bag. “That boyfriend dumped me. I consoled myself with a hamburger the size of my head. Beef and I have been on solid footing ever since. Men may come and go, but the perfect medium rare steak is a joy forever.” She nodded once and they both laughed and Charlie started to wonder if the story of the man who proposed to the woman because she was pretty enough to stop him in his tracks and she loved a good steak would make the rounds as the most romantic thing ever or the stupidest.

  “All right. I’ll be back…” Charlie flipped his watch over to check the time. “How about eight? I’ll stop and de-Elvis too.” He pointed at his crunchy hair. He’d gotten rid of the gold jacket half a second after the last guest filed out of the chapel, but the hair took a little more effort.

 

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