The Christmas Promise

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The Christmas Promise Page 7

by Janice Carter


  “I’m so glad you came by,” Grace said. “I was about to text to see if you wanted to have lunch before you left.”

  “I’ve just come from a late breakfast at Mabel’s, and I doubt lunch will appear on my agenda today. But thanks anyway.”

  “Yeah, Mabel’s can do that to you.” Grace flipped down the lid of her laptop and came around from behind the counter. “Thanks again so much for yesterday. I have a gift for you, so I’m doubly glad you dropped by. Saves me the trouble of mailing it.”

  Ella felt an unexpected pang at Grace’s nervous laugh and that their past friendship—something she’d once treasured—had grown into this awkwardness. “I came to say goodbye and also to tell you to keep the rest of the books I brought. I’m sure my publisher won’t care, and you could sell them or even give some away to your teen customers.”

  For a frightening moment, Ella thought Grace was about to hug her, but she headed for the table where the novels were still on display. A gift bag sat among them. Grace shyly presented it to Ella. “It’s not much. I know you didn’t want any remuneration for your talk, but I wanted to give you something.”

  After a slight hesitation, Ella opened it and pulled out a book titled Recipes from The Daily Catch and featuring a mouth-watering photograph of a seafood platter on its cover.

  “Tom Nakamura published that a few months ago. So many people in town as well as tourists had been asking him for his recipe for the house tartar sauce or the cheddar-corn biscuits—to mention a couple—that he decided to produce his own book.”

  Ella had begun to flip through some of the pages while Grace was speaking. The gift surprised her because she liked to cook, a fact that she doubted Grace knew. Her interest in cuisine had been slow to take hold, accelerating during the lonely days following her divorce when Ella had impulsively signed up for a cooking class. “This is lovely, Grace. Thank you so much.”

  “It was Ben’s idea. I passed a few suggestions by him, but he came up with this. Honestly, I never would have thought you’d be interested in a cookbook, but I’m glad you like it.”

  Ben’s idea. The comment resonated so strongly that Ella was at a loss for words. She had a sudden memory of sharing a plate of fries with him at the diner all the kids went to back then. She couldn’t recall its name, but it was near Tina’s Ice Cream Parlor. Ben had made a joke about their standard order and how he hoped one day they’d move on to some more sophisticated food. She’d felt a flush of excitement at the implication that she might be in his life whenever that day came and had added that maybe she’d learn how to cook and make something special for him. Had he remembered? Or was this just a coincidence?

  “Please thank him for me.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to do that yourself.”

  Ella frowned at Grace’s slight smile. “Oh?”

  “I assumed you might be seeing him today before you left. After your dinner together last night.”

  Grace must not have spoken to her brother yet; otherwise she’d have known that their dinner had been anything but a success. That was a relief because she was regretting her abrupt good-night, capping off a whole evening of barbed comments. He must have felt immense relief when he’d left her at the hotel, yet he’d still made that last pitch to get her to stay longer. Even her disappointment at not getting his apology was no excuse for such poor behavior. When did you become that kind of person, Jacobs?

  “We didn’t make any plans to see each other again.”

  “I’m sorry. I’d hoped—”

  “What?”

  Ella knew the sharpness in her voice came from irritation with herself, not Grace, and was about to tone it down when Grace continued, “That my apology might have implicitly included Ben’s. I mean, I know you never got to see him again and that you had plans to visit him at college. He’d told me that. But it never happened because...well...I suppose because of what I did.”

  Grace was taking on a lot more blame than she needed to. “Maybe Ben should account for his actions himself.”

  After a moment, Grace nodded. “You’re right, Ella, and I hope you’ll give him that chance.”

  I wanted to last night, Ella would have said, but there was no way she was going to confide about Ben to his sister. Not now and not ever. “Okay, well, thanks again, Grace. If you make it to Boston someday, give me a ding.” But they both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  She picked up the book and gift bag to head for the door and reached it just as Grace called out, “Ben said he’d asked you to stay for the tree lighting tomorrow. I promised him I wouldn’t tell you how much he was hoping you would say yes, but...”

  Ella swung around. Her immediate thought was how the Winters siblings had both made last-minute pitches. The similarity was kind of cute, she thought. Clearly, their desire to have her stay was genuine. “I...uh... I’ll think about it, Grace. Bye.”

  She did think about it all the way back to the hotel and at some point while she was packing up, she impulsively sent a text to Ben.

  Is it too late to change my mind about staying through the weekend?

  Setting her phone down, Ella realized she’d just made the decision she’d been avoiding all morning. Leaving now would mean all the unanswered questions about Ben—the whys and what-ifs—would plague her for the rest of her life. If she wanted him to know how he’d hurt her, she’d have to stay to make that happen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BEN GOT ELLA’S text just before noon as he and Andy were finishing up reviewing the next funding presentation. He spent such a long time staring at his cell phone that Andy asked, “Problem?”

  Ben raised his head. “Uh, no, but I’m thinking I might take a drive into Portland this afternoon, see how things are going at head office.” He started typing his reply to Ella but was interrupted again.

  “Okay,” Andy said. “Want me to stay here, then, in case anything comes up?”

  Except for a few small jobs left to do in the unsold houses, construction had basically ground to a halt in Lighthouse Cove. There was an ongoing office-building project in Portland, but it was being handled by the company’s crew there. Ben thought for a minute. Andy would normally be overseeing the subdivision jobs on-site today, but now he’d be troubleshooting for him here and maybe helping Glen with the books. This trip to Portland with Ella wouldn’t complicate anything at the office.

  “Sure. When Mike shows up, get him to take care of the light installations you’d planned to do. Also, I’m expecting a call on the office line, confirming my meeting with Portland National Bank. If anything urgent comes up about that, call me on my cell. And maybe you could give Glen a hand, if you have the time.”

  Glen looked up from his computer at this. “I think I’ll be fine, boss.”

  Ben puzzled for a minute at the man’s guarded expression but was already texting Ella to tell her he’d pick her up in front of the hotel in half an hour. She wrote back immediately, and when he put his phone down, he realized the men were staring at him.

  “Listen, if things are slow, just close up. It’s Friday and I’m sure you both would appreciate a short day.”

  Now they looked a bit worried. Booking off early could mean there wasn’t enough work. Ben wanted to reassure them but figured they’d see through any attempt at painting a rosy picture. They knew as well as he did business was slow. “I’m also expecting to hear from town council about our request to go over budget for the library. I got an email late yesterday telling me the outcome looks promising. So...” Ben had planned to inform his crew when he got the final word but guessed they needed some bolstering now rather than in a day or two.

  “All good.” Andy smiled at this new information.

  “Okay, then, I’ll head out. Call if you need to. Otherwise I’ll see you both on Monday. Unless we bump into one another at the tree lighting tomorrow night.” He tucked his
cell phone into his jeans pocket.

  “Think I’ll pass on that,” Glen muttered.

  “Maybe. If Trish wants to go.” A frown crossed Andy’s face.

  Andy had confided a few months ago that he and his wife were in couples therapy. Ben would have asked how things were going if they’d been alone or suggested a buddy lunch to talk things over, but today he had plans. Exciting ones.

  He decided to go home to change from his worksite attire of jeans and hoodie into a suit. Although the visit to head office had been his impulsive excuse for leaving work early, Ben figured he ought to make an appearance anyway. After the unsatisfactory meeting with Portland Credit Union yesterday, he’d emailed Winters Building Ltd. VP, Harold Ferguson, to give him a recap and had promised to follow up with him later.

  Ferguson had been with the company since Charles Winters had taken over as president, but while Charles had landed the top job through inheritance, Harold had slowly worked his way up through the ranks. The two men had become friends and there was no person in the company that Charles—and Ben—trusted more. Harold was the reason that Ben could indulge his preference for hands-on work by spending more time on-site than at headquarters. The older man had also become a kind of sounding board for Ben’s frustrations.

  Not that Ben had ever pointed to Charles as the source of those feelings. He loved his father in spite of their differences of opinion over the company and would never be disloyal. But then, he didn’t need to be frank with Harold. The man had worked with Charles a long time and knew him well enough to figure things out for himself. He’d hinted recently that he was thinking of retirement, but Ben hoped that wouldn’t happen until his own position in the company was finally secured and settled. Whenever that day dawned.

  Ben dismissed all those negative thoughts as he drove home, because the weekend was suddenly looking brighter.

  * * *

  ELLA PICKED UP her cell phone twice after Ben’s text, intending to cancel, but both times she turned it off, stopped by an image of the disappointment on Ben’s face. Despite wanting Ben to know what she’d gone through she also knew leaving now would be leaving forever. On her way to meet him, she stopped at the reception desk to extend her booking. “I can give you the room until Sunday,” said the hotel clerk, Rohan, as he peered at the computer.

  “That’s fine.” She’d be leaving Sunday anyway. Her stay in the Cove would be two days longer than she’d anticipated, and by the time she left, no doubt she’d have accomplished her two goals in coming—getting apologies from Grace and Ben. She ought to feel satisfied about that, but when Ben’s car pulled up a few seconds after she exited the hotel, all she was feeling was a giddy headiness.

  “I’m happy you changed your mind,” he said as she climbed into his car.

  “You and Grace can be very persuasive.”

  “Oh?” He glanced quickly at her while making a U-turn on Main Street to head up the hill to the highway. “You saw her this morning?”

  “Yes, initially to say goodbye. She gave me a thank-you gift. A lovely book of recipes from The Daily Catch.”

  “Nice.” He looked at her. “Do you like it?”

  “I do. And she told me I had you to thank.”

  He focused on his driving again, but not before she caught his quick smile of satisfaction. “Well, it was a suggestion, that’s all. I’m glad it was a good one.” He cleared his throat. “Um, so I have to stop by company headquarters briefly, but there’s a mall nearby. How about if I drop you off there, and we can text to organize a time to pick you up?”

  “I hope you haven’t had to change any plans, just for this shopping trip.”

  “No, I needed to see someone there and remembered the mall was close by.”

  Ella was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be shopping with her but then realized that would make the outing too much like a couple thing. And they definitely weren’t a couple. “That’s fine,” she said.

  Stopping at the top of the hill before turning onto the highway, Ben pointed to the subdivision down the road. “That’s where I usually hang out, in the modular unit we use as an office. But the company’s official headquarters are in Portland. We used to own a two-story building there, but my grandfather sold it. Now we rent space in an office tower.” He looked over at Ella and smiled. “Cash-flow problems. Even back then.”

  She saw the flicker of worry in his eyes. He clearly had a lot on his mind. On their walk he’d implied working for his father was challenging, so financial problems on top of that would be stressful. “If you’re usually here, who’s in charge in Portland?”

  “A man who started in the company almost at the same time as Dad, except he worked his way up. His name’s Harold Ferguson and he’s the VP.”

  Ella wondered where Ben fit into that scenario, considering he had no official title. She was curious but hesitated to ask in case the subject was a sensitive one.

  “We work together, more or less,” he went on, as if sensing her curiosity. “He knows I like to be with my own team on the construction site more than in an office building, and he also knows my dad well enough to figure out my situation. At least, that’s my take on it. Harold’s always been very discreet where my father is concerned. They’ve been friends a long time.”

  Ella realized that fact alone could be part of the dilemma Ben referred to. Harold and Charles Winters were friends as well as business partners. Threesomes were complicated, especially where power and money were involved.

  She had a sudden flashback to that summer when she’d arrived at the Cove to find that Grace had another best friend—Cassie Fielding. Ella had always assumed that Grace had friends she hung out with during the school year—just as she had herself—but once summer came, those friends seemed to blend into the background. But Cassie had been there the first day Ella ran to Grace’s house to tell her all about her school year in Boston and, to her dismay, Cassie had stayed. Then Ella had started spending more time with Ben, which had turned out to be a bonus for her.

  They didn’t speak again until the outskirts of Portland. “There’s the new mall.” Ben pointed to a large complex of stores ahead, on the west side of the road. “How about if I drop you off at the main entrance? Text me when you’re ready.”

  “I wouldn’t want to take you away from something important. I can be quick when it comes to shopping and besides boots, I don’t have much else to get. How flexible can you be?”

  “My meeting with Harold was last-minute, so I can pick you up whenever.”

  She studied his profile as he steered off the highway onto the mall’s main road. The clenched jaw and fingers gripping the wheel were further signs of stress. He was taking time away from work to ferry her to a mall so she could buy appropriate footwear for a Maine winter. All because she was going to stay for some Christmas-lighting thing that she actually wasn’t very interested in. It was a considerate gesture, and she felt a moment’s regret that her motivation for the extended stay wasn’t so innocent. He clearly wanted her to be there, and she... Well, she wanted satisfaction.

  * * *

  BEN TAPPED LIGHTLY on Harold’s office door. It was ajar, but he knew the older man was a stickler for formality. Hence his change into a suit.

  “Yes?”

  Ben hesitated. Harold sounded a bit testy. Well, too late now, he told himself. He pushed open the door and stuck his head in. “Got a minute, Harold?”

  “Ah, Ben! Come in and close the door behind you.” Harold looked up from a file he was reading, his eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose. Light from the ceiling reflected off the top of his balding head. He’d taken off his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  Getting down to work, Ben thought. Any evidence of a bad mood had disappeared, which reassured Ben, and he sat on the chair on the other side of the desk. “Twice in two days?” Harold quipped, referring to Be
n’s email yesterday.

  “Yeah, but if you’re busy, I can come by next week as we’d planned.”

  Harold set his pen down next to the file he’d been reviewing. “No, now is good. What’s on your mind?”

  Ben liked that about the older man. He got to the point right away.

  “I’ve gone over my presentation to Portland National Bank next week and wondered if you have anything more to add. I just emailed it to you, and you might not have had a chance to look it over. It’s more or less the same as the one I made to the Credit Union, which we reviewed a bit yesterday.”

  “Well, I skimmed through it, but I was going to email you my thoughts. However, now that you’re here, there is something else I’d like to discuss.”

  Unease stirred deep in Ben’s gut. He’d hoped to bring up the possibility of extending employee benefits in the new budget simply to get Harold thinking about the idea ahead of time. Then he’d broach the subject with his father. But the serious expression on Harold’s face told him his plan might have to be deferred.

  “Go ahead,” he said, though a big part of him wanted to cut the conversation short as he recalled Ella’s remark that her shopping would be quick.

  Perhaps Harold read something in Ben’s face. “I’ll make this short for now. I had a phone call from one of our suppliers today. A problem with their shipment orders not correlating to invoice payments. He wants to investigate further and then get back to me. Can you ask the new guy who’s reviewing invoices at your end...” His face creased in thought. “What’s his name? The one who replaced Matt Valetta.”

  “Glen Kowalski.”

  “Okay. Check it out with him. Maybe we’re missing some paperwork or whatever. I’ve already asked our guy in accounting, and he hasn’t noticed any problems. I can see you’re anxious to get going, so I’ll email you the details.”

 

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