A Year of Extraordinary Moments (A Magnolia Grove Novel)

by Bette Lee Crosby

  “Me? But I’m not a speaker.”

  “I’m not looking for a speaker. I’m looking for someone who can share their story of how the school helps children with a hearing disability.”

  Tracy grinned. “Well, that’s definitely something I know about.”

  That night, they sat talking until a slip of pink glowed on the horizon. Tracy told of the dark days before Lucas was diagnosed and how she’d prayed for him to say a single word. She recalled the day she’d first seen a glimmer of hope as she stood at the classroom door and watched a child born deaf asking questions and attaching names to the objects on flash cards. As she spoke, tears filled her eyes, but unlike the earlier years, these were tears of happiness.

  25

  Cause for Concern

  Once she’d agreed to speak at the fund-raiser, Tracy feared she was going to be in over her head. She telephoned Sheldon Markowitz, the Snip ’n Save production assistant responsible for the final print layouts.

  “I might be asking you to do a bit more work,” she warned. “Maybe finish off and finesse some of the ad designs.”

  “No problem,” he replied. “Just get everything to me a few days earlier.”

  Confident she now had a workable solution, Tracy began making notes and practicing her speech. At first, it seemed an easy enough task. She simply planned to tell her story as it had unfolded. Using one of the new composition books Meghan had left behind, she spent one whole morning making notes and yet another typing up a speech with exactly what she wanted to say. Then she spent that entire afternoon reading it aloud in front of the mirror.

  On Thursday, Sheldon called and asked why he hadn’t received any of the material for the upcoming issue.

  Tracy glanced at the date on her computer and gasped.

  “Oh, my gosh, I forgot about it! I’ll get the drafts to you as soon as I finish my speech.” She told him about speaking at the Hawke School fund-raiser. “I’ve written my speech out word for word, but it sounds so wishy-washy.”

  Sheldon laughed. “I’ve been working with you for over two years, Tracy, and I can’t imagine you doing anything less than stellar.”

  “Thanks. It’s nice to know I at least have your vote of confidence. Unfortunately, that’s not going to help this speech . . .” Her voice drifted off, almost as if something else had caught her attention.

  “Hold on,” Sheldon said. “What makes you think the speech is no good?”

  The question stumped Tracy, and several moments of silence passed before she answered. “I’m not sure. I’ve written down every single thing I need to say, but when I read it back, the words feel clunky in my mouth.”

  Sheldon laughed. “That’s because you’re reading from a piece of paper instead of speaking from your heart. Try using index cards with just one or two lines of prompts. That should keep you on track and leave room for being spontaneous.”

  “Index cards are a good idea.”

  “I’ve got to get back to work. When can I expect the ads?”

  “Before noon tomorrow,” she promised. Then they said their goodbyes and hung up.

  Tracy intended to get going and work through the evening, but with the idea of using card prompts now picking at the forefront of her mind, she was eager to try it. Before starting the ads, she pulled a packet of index cards from the desk and, in a tight, handwritten script, painstakingly narrowed the eleven pages of double-spaced text to twenty-eight cards. Then she felt compelled to check out the results.

  Again standing in front of the mirror, she began speaking. Unfortunately, the handwritten words proved rather difficult to read, and the constant checking to make sure she hadn’t missed anything was disconcerting. In the end, she realized this performance was only marginally better than the first. By then it was nearly eleven o’clock, and the words on the cards had turned to a blur of inked scribble-scrabble. She set the cards aside and sat at the computer to work on the ads.

  In all, there were eleven new ads waiting to be done, but her eyelids were drooping before she’d finished the third one, an ad for Maggie’s Shoe Palace. Leaving the ad with some lines of type stretched out and others squeezed into a too-small space, she powered down the computer.

  I’ll get up early in the morning and finish when I’m fresh, she thought as she headed upstairs and climbed into bed.

  Lila was the one who dressed and fed Lucas in the morning, which was a good thing, because the next time Tracy opened her eyes, it was ten o’clock. With another eight ads to design and a noon deadline looming over her, Tracy bolted up, grabbed her cell phone, and texted Meghan.

  Help! In a jam. Way behind on ads!

  26

  Sister Help

  Meghan was checking the ears of a high-strung Pekingese when her phone beeped with a message from Tracy. She eyed it and sensed its urgency. Luckily she had only one appointment before three o’clock, and she was able to move it to later in the day.

  It was not yet ten thirty when she pulled into Lila’s driveway. As far as Meghan was concerned, her mother’s house was still home, so she didn’t bother knocking and hurried in. Stopping in the kitchen just long enough to kiss her mama’s cheek and give Lucas a hug, she continued back to the Snip ’n Save office.

  Tracy glanced up. “Thank goodness you’re here!” She turned back to the computer and resized a line of type. “I’m way behind on the ads. Can you take over a few of these?”

  A look of puzzlement swept across Meghan’s face. “Sure,” she said tentatively. “How come you’re so far behind?”

  “It’s a long story,” Tracy said without turning away from the screen. “If you do the two golf shop ads, the liquor store, and Fresh Farm Produce, I can handle the rest.”

  Meghan felt the tug of familiarity as she sat at the small desk that, years earlier, had been squeezed into the corner of the room. It was the same desk she’d occupied when her daddy was alive. She powered on the laptop, pulled up the Snip ’n Save site, and opened the first file. With almost no conversation between them, the sisters worked straight through lunch. Before one o’clock, the folder of ads was emailed to Sheldon.

  “Whew!” Tracy rolled her shoulders and relaxed into the chair. “Thanks, Meghan. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “How’d you get so far behind?” Meghan asked. “What happened?”

  “I guess I’ve been preoccupied. Gabriel and I are working on something special, and it’s taken more time than I expected.”

  “Gabriel?” Meghan gave a grin of satisfaction. “I had a feeling you two would be right for each other. So how’s it going?”

  Turning to face her sister, Tracy leaned back with a dreamy expression. “I like him. A lot. He makes me laugh and feel good about myself.”

  “Does he feel the same about you?”

  She nodded. “I think he loves me.”

  “Did he come right out and say it?”

  Tracy hesitated. Without mentioning that afternoon at the lake, she finally answered, “Yes and no.”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. Issues such as this were precisely why she worried about her sister. “What is that supposed to mean?” she said. “He either did or didn’t. Which was it?”

  “Well, I guess he did. At least he started to . . .”

  “And?”

  “He said he wanted to wait until he was certain I was over Dominic.”

  At the mention of Dominic, Meghan felt a twinge of concern. “You told him Dominic was a thing of the past, right?”

  Tracy turned back to the computer. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “What!” Meghan was out of her chair in a flash. She swung Tracy’s chair around and stood glaring at her. “Are you crazy? Are you deliberately trying to ruin a relationship with a man who’s perfect for you?”

  Tracy’s expression stiffened. “I’m not trying to ruin anything. I’m trying to be honest. Besides, none of this is even your business!”

  “It’s my business because I love you and want you
to be happy. I stood by and said nothing when you ran off with Dominic the first time, but I am not going to stay silent again.”

  “You had nothing to say about it. I made my own choices.”

  “That might have been okay then, but now things are different. You’ve got Lucas to consider. I’m your sister. It’s my responsibility to make sure you think long and hard about your choices.”

  “Not everything is your responsibility, Meghan. Sometimes you have to let other people make their own mistakes. I’ve made mine, and hopefully they’re behind me. For now, I’m happy being with Gabriel.”

  “What do you mean for now?” Meghan slapped her hand against her forehead as if the truth had somehow dawned on her. “This is about Dominic! He’s still in the picture, isn’t he?”

  “Of course he is. He always will be. You can’t love someone, have a child with him, and then simply forget you ever had feelings for him when you’re ready to move on. Don’t forget, Dominic is Lucas’s daddy.”

  Suddenly, all the concerns Meghan had held back became real and more threatening than ever. She groaned and rolled her eyes. Dominic’s return would mean the end of everything—the end of Lucas attending the school, the end of Tracy and Gabriel, the end of Tracy managing the Snip ’n Save!

  “Dominic’s back in town, and you’re seeing him again, aren’t you?” Her eyes narrowed, and her words had the sound of an accusation rather than a question. “That’s why you’re late on the ads, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He has nothing to do with it.”

  Meghan pushed forward. “Well, what then? What’s so important that you neglected to send out the billing or get the ads finished in time?”

  “The speech I’m doing at Lucas’s school,” Tracy replied flatly. “That’s what.”

  “Speech?” The rigid furrows along Meghan’s forehead softened. “You never said anything about a speech.”

  “I wanted to wait until it was really good before I told you.” Tracy went on to explain that she was the main speaker at the fund-raiser.

  Meghan reached out to pull her sister into a hug. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “I’m so very proud of you.”

  “Really?”

  The relief of knowing it was something Tracy was doing for the school and not a reappearance of Dominic brought a smile to Meghan’s face. “Yes.” She sighed. “Really.”

  Tracy wriggled free and gave a grin. “If you’ve got time right now, I’d like to run through it and see what you think.”

  “I can spare an hour, but then I’ve got to get back. Tom’s got a surgery scheduled, and he needs my help.”

  “An hour’s good.” Tracy grabbed the packet of cards. Talking to Meghan was easier than talking to a reflection, so this time her presentation went smoother.

  She ran through the whole speech, then asked, “What do you think?”

  “It’s not bad,” Meghan said, her expression thoughtful, “but it’s not the real you. Why don’t you ditch the cards and just tell the story the way you remember it?”

  “With nothing? No cards? No script?”

  Meghan nodded. “I think you’d come across as more believable.”

  Tracy looked pensive for a long moment, then said, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

  They had a quick sandwich together, and before Meghan left, Tracy asked if she’d come back later that night to listen to an off-the-cuff version of her speech.

  “I don’t mind coming back,” she said, “but you’re already behind on the Snip ’n Save billing, aren’t you? So how can you find time to work on the speech?”

  “I’ll make time,” Tracy replied.

  That was precisely what worried Meghan.

  27

  Meghan Whitely

  I don’t want to make a big deal about it, because I know Tracy is nervous about speaking at the fund-raiser, but, honestly, I’m pretty ticked at her. If I hadn’t dropped everything to come over and help out, some of the ads would have missed this week’s edition. Daddy would turn over in his grave if he thought we were treating customers that way.

  Tracy acts like it’s a flexible job with time off whenever she wants. It’s not. She knew that when she agreed to take over. I told her when an ad is booked for a certain week, it has to run that week. She can’t bump it to the next week or let it slide until she gets around to it. We have an obligation to our customers. But unfortunately, she doesn’t take that responsibility seriously enough.

  If this was the first time she’d fallen behind, I’d understand, but it isn’t. We’ve had this same argument twice before. I asked if she knew what would happen if a store had a special event going and then, boom, they find out there’s no promotion to support it. She shrugged and didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. She knew as well as I did that would be a guaranteed disaster!

  It’s not that I mind helping out, but the truth is, she should be able to handle the amount of work there is, even with having Wednesday off to take Lucas over to the school. He only has class for a half day, but she spends the whole day there. That would be fine if she didn’t have work to do, but she does.

  When Tracy first took over, I worried that Dominic’s return might cause her to forget her promise to run the Snip ’n Save. Now I’m starting to think I was worried about the wrong thing.

  I feel bad about being mad at Tracy; she deserves to have a personal life the same as Mama and I do. Mama goes to dinner with her friend Bruce Pendergast every so often, but she doesn’t just walk off if she’s promised to babysit Lucas. Having a personal life doesn’t mean blowing off your responsibilities.

  The problem is I have no idea what to do about it. I spent eighteen months getting a veterinary assistant’s license so I could work with Tom. It’s what I want to do, and I don’t want to give it up. But if Tracy walks out, I’ll have no choice.

  All I can do right now is hope that after the fund-raiser, she settles down and gets serious about running the Snip ’n Save. That would save us all a whole lot of heartache.

  28

  Ready, Set . . .

  As the weekend of the fund-raiser grew near, Tracy became increasingly nervous about her presentation. So much depended on whether she was convincing. When she recalled Gabriel’s speech at the awards dinner and remembered how the audience had cheered, she set her expectations even higher.

  On Monday, she called Meghan and asked if she could possibly help out with the Snip ’n Save for the week.

  “I’m really sorry about asking you to do this again,” she said, “but I need time to practice my speech.”

  “You’re still practicing?” Meghan asked in disbelief. “I’ve heard that speech a half dozen times in the last five days, and it sounds perfect.”

  “I still think it could be better.” Tracy gave a weary-sounding sigh. “On Friday, I’m running through the presentation with Gabriel, and I was hoping it would be perfect by then.”

  “I thought the fund-raiser was Saturday night.”

  “It is. I’m staying over and spending the weekend in Barrington. After the dinner, it will be late and—”

  “What about Lucas?”

  “Mama’s taking him for the weekend. After I do the speech, I’ll probably be wiped out and way too tired to drive.”

  “But you’ll be back at work on Monday, won’t you?” A sound of concern was hanging on to the end of Meghan’s question.

  Tracy, having moved on to thinking about what she might wear to the event, said, “Yeah, sure.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Meghan hesitated a moment, then said, “You’re . . . you’re just doing a speech like this one time, right?”

  “With as worked up as it makes me, I would think so!”

  On Monday afternoon, Meghan slid into the chair she’d used in the years following her daddy’s death, but somehow it didn’t feel quite the same. She leaned back and propped her feet up on the desk rail just as he had done and found it an oddly uncomfortable position. After wriggling from on
e side to the other, she snagged a throw pillow from the living room, stuck it behind her back, and logged on to the Snip ’n Save scheduling calendar.

  At first, she thought maybe Tracy had simply forgotten to note the completed files, but when she opened the individual folders, she found twenty-eight ads waiting to be designed.

  In the early days, after her daddy was gone and before Sheldon was hired, Meghan had handled the Snip ’n Save alone. Countless times she’d remained at the desk long after the sky had turned dark and most everyone in Magnolia Grove had gone to bed. Some nights, her eyelids felt as heavy as a sack of sand, but still she stayed there, designing ads, repositioning art, or selecting fonts that stood apart from the others. Back then, she’d felt a sense of reward in seeing it done right. Now the thought of tinkering with the ads when her family was at home waiting for her seemed almost painful. She closed her eyes and, for a brief moment, pictured the three of them sitting on the sofa—Sox curled up beside her, his head resting on her thigh, and Tom with his arm draped across her shoulders.

  Meghan gave a rueful sigh, then opened the Daisy Dress Shop folder and started to work. She’d completed eight of the layouts when Tracy finally returned home.

  “Where’ve you been?” she asked, not masking her irritation. “You knew you still had all these ads to get done; you should have at least stayed here to help out.”

  “Sorry. I had to get a dress for the fund-raiser.” Without giving the apology time to settle in Meghan’s head, Tracy pulled a pale-yellow dress from the box and held it up. “What do you think?”

  Normally, Meghan would have gushed over the dress, elaborating on how it brought out the highlights in Tracy’s hair, asking about shoes and the accessories she’d wear. Not this time.

  “Nice,” she said. With her lips stretched into a tight little line, she turned back to the screen. “This is the last ad I’m doing tonight. Hopefully tomorrow you can find time to help out so we can get the rest done.”