Making Spirits Bright Read online

Page 19


  She kept hearing that voice—that voice from her past. Gravelly. No-nonsense. Terrifying. For several minutes she twitched into wakefulness, and then something kicked the bottom of her shoe. Heidi opened her eyes to the vision of Laura looming over her, arms akimbo, eyes glittering with amusement. About the only thing different about her was the bump jutting out incongruously from her midsection, which made her look like a Who from Whoville more than a mother-to-be.

  She sounded just like the old Laura, however. “Do y’all actually serve food in this place, or should we take our business elsewhere?”

  Heidi lurched to her feet, gave Laura and then Webb quick hugs, and attempted to shush Marcello as he circled them, barking. “Of course I’ll fix you something. I’m just so surprised. What are you doing here?” Although she knew. And the happy-mixed-with-sad expression on Erica’s face told her that she knew, too. They’d come to get her.

  It was so disorienting, as though they’d dropped from the sky. One minute she’d been asleep, and then ...

  She looked around. “What happened to everybody?”

  “All the people left,” Erica explained. “The power’s on most everywhere in the neighborhood now—at least, according to Patrick and Marcus.”

  Patrick! Heidi flushed. Where had he gone?

  Webb smiled at her. “Looks like we arrived just in time to miss all the fun.”

  “All the chaos,” Heidi corrected.

  “Good,” Laura said. “We decided to use Erica’s going AWOL as an excuse to take a little vacation.”

  Erica gasped. “You mean, we’re going to stay in New York a while?”

  “A few days,” Laura said. “Why not? We had a hell of a time getting here—my heart doesn’t yearn to head back to the airport, I can tell you that much.”

  “Can we go and watch the ball drop on New Year’s Eve?” Erica asked.

  Laura’s face slackened in dread, and she and Webb exchanged glances. He seemed amused by the idea, but Laura looked so torn at not giving Erica her heart’s desire that Heidi took pity on her. Times Square on New Year’s was no place for the easily nauseated.

  “We could probably find something more fun to do,” she told them, making her way back to the kitchen. “Now let’s see—breakfast. There’re all sorts of stuff left over ...” A peek under the cellophane-wrapped trays and cake covers told a different story, however. Except for a few lemon bars, most of the baked goods were gone. She eyed the fridge critically. “We’ve got a half a carton of eggs, is about all.”

  “Just coffee for me,” Laura said, her lips pursed. “Decaf.”

  While Heidi cooked the breakfast for everyone else, she got caught up on the news from the farm and Sweetgum, and then explained—or re-explained—what had been going on here.

  Laura darted a skeptical glance at Heidi. “Let me get this straight. You lost a whole box of money, and so the next day you started giving out free food and coffee? Does that make sense?”

  “Not really, but it felt good.”

  “Does it feel good to be even more broke than ever?” Laura followed up.

  Heidi arched a brow at her. “I hadn’t quite mulled that over yet. But thanks for reminding me.”

  Webb leaned back in a chair, inspecting the tip jar by the register. “What about that money? Doesn’t it count?”

  Heidi glanced at the jar for the first time that morning. Yesterday, she had noticed that some people had been putting change and even a few dollars into it. Now, though, it was crammed with bills.

  “They passed around the jar last night,” Erica told her. “And this morning, when everybody was leaving, most of them left more.”

  Heidi was amazed. “They shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t expect them to.”

  “But I think they wanted to,” Erica said. “At least, that’s what Patrick said.”

  “What happened to Patrick?” Heidi couldn’t help asking.

  “He said he was going to call you later this morning. He figured you weren’t going to open the café today.”

  “No—I think I’ll take a holiday.”

  Seeing Laura and Webb here, looking so much themselves, but so out of place, buoyed her spirits. They got another lift when Erica counted out the money in the tip jar and discovered it contained nearly four hundred dollars. “Wow! What are you going to do with that?”

  “Split it between you and Dinah,” she said.

  Erica’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “You did a lot of work,” Heidi told her. “And maybe this way you’ll be able to pay off your dad faster.”

  Erica jumped up and did a happy dance.

  “Let me give you guys the grand tour of the neighborhood,” Heidi said. “We can go back to my place. I could use a shower.”

  “Me, too!” Erica chimed in.

  “And we can call around and see if we can find a hotel,” Webb said.

  Heidi locked up the café and led them all down the street. Webb and Laura strolled side by side carrying two duffel bags, followed by Erica walking Marcello on a leash. Despite the slushy sidewalks, Heidi felt a bounce in her step. The sun was shining at last, they’d survived the storm, and good things had happened: Three hundred and eighty-six dollars in a tip jar. Patrick.

  Her phone rang inside her satchel, and she dug it out. It was him.

  “You’re up,” he said.

  “Yes, we’re all headed over to my apartment.”

  “All?”

  “Webb and Laura are here, from Texas. They’re going to stay a couple of days. I was going to get cleaned up and then take them out to ...” She frowned and turned to call back to them. “What do you want to do today?”

  “Empire State Building!” Erica said excitedly. “Can we? I want to go to the top, like in the movies.”

  Laura turned a little green at the prospect, which made Heidi laugh. She nodded and spoke to Patrick again. “We’re going to the Empire State Building.”

  “Do you need a guide? I’ve not only been there a zillion times, I’ve arrested someone there.”

  “Excellent!”

  “Give me forty-five minutes,” he said. “And Heidi?”

  “Yes?”

  “The only Ginger I’ve ever loved was on Gilligan’s Island. ”

  She smiled as the warm feeling from last night returned. “So you don’t mind hanging around?”

  “Try and stop me.”

  Heidi hung up and was feeling close to euphoric when they turned onto her street. As they approached her apartment, Webb and Laura both slowed down, their gazes drawn to the fully dressed Christmas tree lying on the sidewalk. The ice had mostly melted off of it, so that there was just a layer of gloppy snow crusting over it.

  “What’s that?” Webb asked.

  “That’s Heidi’s Christmas tree.” Erica looked up at Heidi. “If we shook the snow off and took it inside now, do you think the lights would work?”

  Heidi frowned. “I’m not sure ...” Now that she took another look at it, it seemed huge. She wasn’t even sure where she could put it. And she’d have to take it down soon, anyway. That was always a bummer.

  Laura, who had been inspecting the tree for the best way to extricate it from the snow and remaining ice, kicked something nearby. “What the heck?” She lifted a green metal box from the sidewalk and batted snow from it. “Is this what all the fuss was about?”

  Heidi’s face fell. The cash box. It must have been there all this time—buried. When she’d picked up the shopping bag to go to the hospital, the box had probably slipped right through the soggy bottom into the snow.

  She ran over to Laura, nearly skidding into her in her excitement. She threw her arms around her ex-stepsister and let out a squeal of glee ... much to Laura’s dismay. “Thank you!”

  “You idiot,” Laura said. “Why thank me? It was right here all along.”

  “But you found it for me!” Heidi exclaimed. “You’re my guardian angel and Santa Claus all rolled into one!”

  Laura
groaned and tried to bat her away.

  “And now it’s my turn,” Heidi continued. “Anything you want, Laura. Your wish is my command. Ask and you shall receive.”

  Laura’s brows darted up. “Really?”

  Heidi nodded. “Anything. Even world peace—no guarantees, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “I know what she wants,” Erica said.

  “What?” Heidi and Laura asked at the same time.

  Erica and Webb exchanged glances. “Bacon!”

  Heidi laughed and then hugged Laura again. “I’m going to smother you in bacon, Laura. All the way till New Year’s.”

  Laura considered it. “You know what? I think I’m finally in the Christmas spirit.” She shrugged Heidi off of her, brushed her hands together, and looked down at the tree, all business. “Now, let’s get this monster inside. The youngster wants a tree.”

  Home for Christmas

  ROSALIND NOONAN

  For Karen and Dave Barretto,

  who so kindly shared their New England homes,

  their Red Sox caps,

  their hearts.

  You guys are wicked awesome.

  Chapter 1

  “I’m back!” Joanne Truman called from the back room of the Christmas shop. She closed the outside door behind her, pausing at the sight of Christmas in motion. Hundreds of dazzling lights twinkled in schemes from cool blues and silvers to warm cardinal, burgundy, and gold. There were trees dripping in silver icicles, trees decorated with miniature toys, trees decorated with gingerbread people. Carols were playing and the air was scented with cinnamon and spice. Surrounded by two girls she loved and radiant trees and ornaments that made the shop resemble the inside of a jewelry box, she soaked up the lights and the joy.

  A handful of customers browsed in the store, one of the few places in town open this late. Jo could tell that the customers—an elderly couple and a group of women in ski parkas—were visitors in Woodstock. She pretty much knew everyone from these parts.

  “Deck the halls with balls of holly,” five-year-old Ava sang.

  Jo grinned, loving the chipmunk quality of her daughter’s voice.

  “Follow lama la, la, la, la, la ...” Ava stared intently through the long strands of her gold bangs as she straightened the gold threads of the wooden ornaments she was hanging on a low rack.

  Toting a plastic bin from the back room, Jo paused by her daughter. “Honey, that’s boughs of holly.”

  Ava frowned up at her. “Holly doesn’t bow.”

  “It’s different, like a tree bough.”

  “Balls sounds better. See what I did, Mommy?”

  “Good job. Looks like you need a haircut, lovey.”

  “Nope.” She held up a carousel horse and hung it on the peg with the others. Since the shop’s opening last year, Ava had enjoyed helping out, and Jo was glad to have her daughter close for the portion of the day she spent here.

  Jo brushed Ava’s bangs back and headed to the front of the store, smiling as Ava crooned along with the music.

  “Opening this shop was the best idea I ever had.” Jo plunked the plastic bin on the glass countertop beside her cousin Molly.

  “Mm-hmm.” Molly didn’t look up from the register tape and calculator as she tallied the day’s sales. “But as I remember it, Cousins’ Christmas Shop was my idea.”

  “It was your idea to pack everything we own and head west till we ran out of highway,” Jo pointed out, untangling the hooks of three snowman ornaments dripping with white glitter.

  “Ay-yuh. I remember now. You’re the homebody who refuses to leave this cursed place.”

  “That’s right. This is my home. And now it’s Ava’s home, too.”

  “We’ll see about that. Once I finish nursing school and get a real paying job in Manchester or Boston, you’ll be calling me and begging me to get you out of Dodge.”

  “Nope. We’ve got roots here. We’re staying put.” Jo balled up her jacket and stuffed it under the register. She’d run across the street to help out at Woodstock Station, the restaurant inside the inn, for the dinner rush. Waitressing wasn’t one of her regular gigs, but as her dad managed the place, she was willing and able to help out in a pinch.

  “So, what did I miss?”

  Molly bit her lip as her fingers tapped the calculator pads. “Earl came over, busting his buttons with delight. He’s gotten loads of comments about those two trees we did for him.” Earl Camden, owner of the Woodstock Inn, had paid them generously to decorate trees for the library and the lobby of the inn. “He was so impressed, he ordered two more for the Riverside and Cascade House.”

  “Yes!” Jo slapped her cousin five. “God bless that man.”

  “This town would be lost without Earl and the inn.” Molly’s brown eyes were sincere behind her black-framed glasses. “I hate the name ‘Black Friday,’ but I’m sure glad that Christmas shopping season has started. Do you know we sold five decorated trees today?”

  “Really?” That alone would make this season profitable for them. “Well, Merry Christmas to us,” Jo said as the brass horns sounded the intro to “What Child Is This?”

  “Dave needs to deliver three of them. Two to the condos by Loon, and one to Pete’s Pizza in Lincoln. The other two Earl is going to pick up himself.”

  “Fantastic.” Hands on her hips, Jo walked through the rows of decorated trees, pointing to the ones marked with SOLD tags, which would need to be replaced.

  “I see we have some decorating in our future. I wonder what time Target opens ...”

  “Psst!” Molly put up a hand to stop her. “Don’t give away our trade secrets. Besides, it’s Black Friday. The big stores are probably open twenty-four-seven from now till Christmas.”

  As if on cue, the bells on the door jingled and a woman in an elegant velvet-trimmed cap appeared. She waved in a boy who looked to be around Ava’s age, maybe a year or two older.

  “Now stay close to Mommy,” she warned him.

  The boy proceeded to turn away and disappear behind a tree decorated with Victorian fans and glittering ornaments in silver and lavender.

  “Jason ...” She fetched him from the aisle and pulled him toward the front of the store. “Stay here, where I can see you.” She turned to the counter. “Sorry.”

  “No worries,” Molly insisted. “They’ve all got minds of their own.”

  Jason meandered to the streetfront window, where ornaments, Christmas clocks, and novelties sat on staggered levels of gold, satiny cloth. Jo and Molly had built the display from a tablecloth with old books propped underneath, and, although the materials were cheap, Jo thought the final product, accented with red and gold ribbon and red balls suspended from fishing line, looked rich and quite grand.

  “Look, Mom. A snow globe.”

  Joanne looked up from the bin of tangled ornaments to watch the little boy reach into the shop’s window for the display item.

  Everyone loved the snow globe.

  Large enough to contain a person’s dreams, yet small enough to hold in your hands, the globe looked down on the main street of Woodstock, New Hampshire, where the gabled Woodstock Inn sat next to the old firehouse that had been converted into an annex of rooms for the inn. Across the street, one of the shops had been carefully labeled COUSINS’ to match the shop where Joanne and Molly sold Christmas novelties all year round. Behind the storefronts arose a tiny version of the White Mountains, white peaks speckled with green trees.

  “Lovely,” the woman said, leaning over her son. “But you have to hold it still a second and let the snow settle. See? There’s the inn where we’re staying. And this is the shop we’re in now.”

  “Cool.” The boy’s mouth ruffled in a pout as he stared at the globe, then began shaking it again.

  “Jason, what did I say? You need to put it down.” Tension tugged down the woman’s voice, but her son turned away from her, hogging the globe.

  Joanne was about to intervene when her daughter stepped out from behind the ca
ndy cane tree.

  “Hey, that’s not a toy.” Though she was only five and thin as a string of licorice, Ava the disciplinarian could pack a wallop.

  “I know.” The boy looked down at her defiantly, but he held the globe securely now.

  “I’ll take that.” The woman swept the snow globe out of his hands.

  “Can we get it, Mom? Please?”

  The woman tilted the globe so that the white snowflakes danced to the side. “I suppose so.” She put it on the counter without checking the price. Which always floored Jo. Didn’t she care whether it was a value or an extravagance? It was like shopping with a blindfold on.

  “We can get the snow globe if you promise not to touch anything else in the store,” the kid’s mother said.

  “That sounds like a tall order.” Jo came around the counter and crouched to be on the little boy’s level. “You may be interested in some of our toy ornaments. Do you like cars?”

  He nodded eagerly.

  Ava threw up her arms dramatically. “I’ll show him where they are! Come on.” And the two kids headed toward the back wall.

  The woman turned to Jo. “Toys are just what he needs right now. We’ve been sitting on the interstate forever, and he’s not too happy about having to leave home this weekend.”

  “It’s hard for kids,” Jo said as she went back to her bin of sorting. “Are you visiting family here?”

  “Oh, no. My husband is here on business, and we decided to make it a family trip since it is Thanksgiving weekend.” Even under the hat, which was too frou-frou for Jo’s tastes, the woman radiated beauty, with eyes that sparkled like sapphires, and porcelain white skin.

  “Well, I hope he enjoys his weekend in Woodstock.” Molly glanced up from her notepad. “If we get some more snow, that’ll be fun for the kid.”

  “Can I help you find something?” Jo asked.

  “No, thanks. I think I’ll just browse ... and I want to check out your toy ornaments myself. Last year Jason and his dad pulverized a few of our glass ornaments with the Nerf gun he got for Christmas.”

 

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