Blessings of the Season (4 page)

Her heart pounded. “You mean to take care of Jesse, right?”

“To
help
take care of Jesse, yes, until my son returns next week. That will give you time to get the word out and make preparations for the publicity stunt, and then…”

“And then…?” Addie watched the handsome man she had impulsively kissed as he reached her side.

He looked even cuter standing there with the breeze ruffling his hair, and his heart—putting Jesse's needs ahead of his plans—on his sleeve.

“And then
what?
” he asked, slipping off his sunglasses and looking first in Maimie's eyes, then Addie's.

“And then we're going to give you a chance to do what so few people ever get to do.” Mrs. Goodwin slipped her arm into Nate's and began to lead him back toward the store. “We're going to give you the opportunity to actually follow through on your promise to Addie.”

“What promise?” he asked, looking back at Addie.

Maimie gave him a yank to keep him by her side as she said, “That you'd happily help out if it would get her her job back.”

His loafers scuffed along the sidewalk as he glanced back over his shoulder at Addie again. “Do you know what she's talking about?”

“Unfortunately, I do, and I want you to know—including you was not my idea.”

T
hey stepped into the elevator on the first floor of the nearly empty department store. Mrs. Goodwin and Addie had not stopped talking the whole time the three of them made their way in from the street. Nate didn't mind. Not one bit. He enjoyed listening to Addie infusing every last word she uttered with enthusiasm and her soft Southern accent.

He could get used to that, he thought, and just as quickly reminded himself that he'd better not let himself get too comfortable with that voice, with those dreams, with this girl. He had plans. He had worked long and hard to get a chance to…

He paused as they walked through the main aisle and he caught a glimpse of Jesse running his hand on the red satin arm of the painted gold chair where the store Santa was supposed to be. Something in that gesture really got to Nate.

Of course it did. He had been that kid who knew not
to rely on a mythical character for the answer to his hopes and yet couldn't help but wish that somebody would help him get the one thing he wanted most in the world. A real family.

Doc Goodwin noticed Jesse's longing. He bent down and spoke to the boy, who nodded then cocked his head and whispered something to the stout bald man.

That's all Nate ever really wanted to do. To help others, to help kids in the way he had never had anyone help him. Deep down he knew he wasn't going to get that at the posh L.A. school where he had landed his one and only job interview since finishing his doctoral degree last spring. Maybe it was a good thing he was staying. Maybe it was worth a few days' vacation and enduring a little holiday cheer if it meant Nate had a chance to make a difference in Jesse's life. And Addie's.

He turned his attention to her again. She smiled broadly and said, “What do you think?”

He thought he should have been listening more intently, but the women really hadn't gone to great lengths to include him. Under other circumstances he might have been tempted to just smile and tell them it sounded great but…

He looked at Santa's chair again and remembered his promise. No matter how much he wanted to help, he couldn't see himself, a guy who really didn't care for Christmas, playing Santa. So to make sure that didn't happen, he just asked outright, “What's my role in all this?”

A few minutes later Nate sat in the offices on the top floor of the Goodwin's Department Store building. Doc
was still keeping Jesse occupied until he and Maimie got the details extending Nate's work as the boy's manny worked out.

Addie had slipped out of her coat and was hanging it up on a row of hooks on the wall, just like a dutiful employee settling in for a full day's work. Though he did think she was taking a little too much time messing with her coat collar trying to get it just right, maybe. Or maybe she was just trying to make herself unobtrusive in the austere office while Maimie Goodwin made the case for his participation in this unconventional publicity-stunt idea of theirs.

“You said you'd go so far as to dress up as Santa Claus in order to help Ms. McCoy keep her job.” Maimie paced slowly from one end of the large cherry-wood partner's desk to the other. “If you think about it, what we're asking isn't nearly that drastic.”

“Or at least not as potentially itchy.” Addie turned from her coat. Something silver and sparkly but also white and glittery was cupped in her hand as she rubbed her knuckles along her cheek. “You know, with the fake beard and all.”

“Well, you got me there. That's generally what I look for in temp work—a low itch factor.” He frowned. The truth was that he'd been far less picky than that about the kind of temp work he'd done to supplement his way through college and grad school. Dishwasher. Blood donor. Amusement park ride operator. But with his future on the line and the reality that he couldn't look for aid to either of his parents, who now had new families to support, he'd been highly motivated then.

Not that there weren't certain motivations to do this. He looked at Addie practically trembling in her grown-up girl shoes as she struggled to fasten her snowflake pin she must have just retrieved from her coat onto her sweater. All the while she kept her eyes trained on him.

She needed a break. Nate had always espoused the virtues of making your own breaks. Wasn't that just what Addie had done?

“Oh!” Her hand suddenly jerked back, sending the pin flying to the floor by his chair. “Little mishap,” she explained with a nervous laugh as she rushed to pick the trinket up again.

He bent down to rescue the Christmas object for her as he shook his head. If she could propose this wild idea to a total stranger, surely she could find somebody else to do this with her. Why him?

“It has to be you,” she whispered as they both reached for the pin on the floor and her mouth was just inches from his ear. “It's a small town, Nate. If we find a local guy to do this, people will get the wrong idea.”

“I see.” He scooped up the cold metallic snowflake and placed it in her open palm.

She glanced down to fasten the snowflake onto her black sweater, then raised her head to look deeply into his eyes. “Thank you.”

He had said “I see” not “I'll do it,” but as he looked into those big, clear eyes shining with hope and gratitude, Nate couldn't help believing he had just made a commitment—one that he would do everything within his power to keep.

“H
ave I told you lately just how proud I am of you?”

“I haven't really accomplished anything yet, Mom.” Addie looked up from the bowl of cold cereal she had been eating over the kitchen sink.

“You've accomplished more than a whole lot of people, sweetie. You found what you wanted in life, and you worked and studied and found a way to make it happen. Even if it doesn't work out the way you had always hoped, you took a shot.”

She smiled as her mother, dressed in a pink-and-yellow chenille bathrobe, with her platinum-blond hair wrapped in curlers, took a seat at the vintage-style chrome-and-turquoise Formica table. Holding a cup of coffee the size of most soup bowls in one hand, the older woman propped up her pink caribou feather mules on the chair across from hers, then clicked the computer mouse to make the flat-screen monitor spring to life.

“I guess I learned a few things from my mother,” Addie
teased lovingly. “I can't believe you developed your own Web site and blog just to put our house on the Internet.”

Bivvy took a sip from her cup. “Wave to the people, darling.”

Addie stepped back from the sink, mortified. “People can
see
me?”

“I added a live Web cam this year.”

It was still dark outside. Dark everywhere except the McCoys' front yard, that is. There the electric radiance shone in through the small window over the sink to illuminate Addie's simple black-and-white outfit and uncomplicated breakfast fare with a green-then-red-then-blue-then-amber glow.

“No one can really see you, but if you wave they might be able to see some movement. Try it and I'll let you know.” She pointed toward the window, one hot-pink acrylic nail glinting in the light from the computer screen.

“No.” Addie curled her bowl close to her body and shrank back another step. “Mom, that is an invasion of my privacy.”

“Sweetie, the camera takes a long, wide shot. You can't see the doors or any windows but that small one right over the sink. I don't think, if a body didn't know it was there, that a person could see it.” She snapped her fingers. “Now wave and let me see for sure.”

Addie set her bowl down, spun on her heel and headed for the bedroom.

“If you can't do this, how are you ever going to put yourself on display in Goodwin's windows?” her mother called out from her spot in front of the computer.

Addie stopped in the hallway. “I am just doing a few
recipe and craft demos during working hours, Mom. No big deal.”

“Is that what they did that first time?” The quiet clickety-clack of the keyboard fell silent.

“Goodwin's doesn't sell all the kinds of stuff it used to back then. We're using what we can—small appliances, household goods, some of their Christmas home décor that fits the tone.” She gestured weakly.

“Nothing like the good old days, huh? That store used to have a little of everything. In fact, it used to take up most of the block.”

“They still own the building next door and keep all the utilities on in it. They use it as a warehouse for the current stock, sale stuff and, well, other stuff.” She thought about sharing her conclusion that Doc hung on to the multistoried building chock-full of old merchandise, mannequins and countless display materials because it represented his reluctance to let go of the past.

“Interesting,” Bivvy droned, clearly not interested at all. “The lights are about to go off in one…two…three.”

Everything outside went dark and quiet.

Addie heaved a sigh of relief.

“Now to check the comments left by people from all over the world.”

“Really? People all over the world are looking at our little house in Star City, Tennessee?”

“You give people something interesting to look at, something out of the ordinary, something sentimental, something with a little style and they will just naturally be drawn to it. I've got so many fans and followers this year I decided to join in a contest.”

That made Addie nervous. “What kind of contest?”

“I'm trying to get the most votes as the best Christmas house. If I get picked, I get a flash to put on my Web site for next year and maybe a nearby TV news crew or one of those home and garden-type shows will come out and film my display.”

“Mom.” Addie shook her head. “Why would you even want that?”

“Because that's what I
do
, Adelaide, sweetie.” Bivvy pushed back her chair and stood. Her features were softened by love and good humor as she came down the hall and put her hands on either side of her daughter's face. “When I believe in something, I don't care who knows it. And I believe in Christmas. I believe in shining a light on the love of God brought to us through the gift of Jesus. When people come to my Web site, they see that story. When they look at our home or at me, they see that joy.”

Addie nodded. “You've given me a lot to think about, Mom.”

 

Addie arrived at work to find that none of the people she had contacted about publicity for the promotion seemed interested in covering it. The only one she hadn't heard from was the local paper, the
Star City Satellite
.

She called, and someone there promised to call her back. She thought about what her mom had told her about attracting attention, about giving people something out of the ordinary, stylish and sentimental. That had given her an idea.

“Hey! Maimie said I might find you over here.” Nate
caught up with her by the elevator on the third floor offices that led to the unused warehouse side of the store.

She had seen Nate every day for the last seven days straight, but they hadn't been alone a minute of it. Maimie had always been there going over details, asking questions. Or Doc, telling stories. Or Jesse, just being Jesse.

“And here I am.” She reached for the elevator button.

He did the same, his hand coming down on top of hers.

She jerked away, embarrassed at the flinching quickness of her reaction. She cleared her throat and pressed the button several more times, as if that would make the elevator arrive faster.

“Did you need me for something?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“Nope.” He stood back and folded his arms over his pale blue shirt with a swordfish motif. The outfit only served to remind her that he would rather be anywhere but here. “Now that they've enrolled Jesse in a private Christian school, I have some time on my hands during school hours. I just wanted to see if I could help you out.”

“Thanks.” She tugged her gray cardigan closed over her turtleneck and navy blue wool pants. “I've always been one of those ‘the more, the merrier' types.”

He smiled. “I don't know how merry we'll be, but I'm happy to help.”

The elevator dinged to signal its arrival. For a split second Addie had second thoughts about walking into such close quarters with this man. The doors rattled open.

“Happy is good,” she said softly as she turned her shoulders in order to slip easily past him. “So is help.”

He got in.

She took a deep breath and tried to act casual, as if she had not spent the last few days watching him, wondering how things might be different if he weren't on his way out of Star City on December twenty-fourth and she weren't going to stay here as long as she possibly could.

Of course, that hinged on her being able to bring Goodwin's back from the brink.

As the door slid shut on the upper floor of the warehouse building, she said, “I thought we should go through the old Christmas displays. Doc says they're scattered all around this building, but the oldest ones should be on the first floor, near what used to be the second set of windows.”

“Cool.” He faced forward.

She thought about making small talk, about asking him how Jesse liked the new school or when Darin Goodwin was expected to return from his honeymoon. But Doc had told her that Jesse loved the school and Darin would be back in a few days at least twice already.

Just keep your mouth shut and your mind on the task at hand
, she told herself. Then she stole a sideways peek at Nate.

She thought of how great he was with Jesse, how patient and kind. And how, with just a few words or a wink, he could have stern Maimie Goodwin giggling like a schoolgirl. She thought of how it had felt to throw convention to the wind and kiss him the first day she'd ever laid eyes on him.

That thought made her cheeks burn hot and her throat close up, but not so much that she didn't manage to blurt something out in hopes of distracting him, and
herself, from her discomfort. “So, if I can't get any publicity for this publicity stunt, what do you think the Goodwins will do?”

“You'll get the publicity.” He sounded so sure.

She wanted to believe him. The elevator dinged to say it had settled on the second floor, and the doors shambled open on a floor packed full of furniture, probably display models from over the years, and stacks of old household goods still in their boxes.

“Is this an elevator or a time machine?” Nate wondered aloud.

“I wish it were a time machine. I'd love to have seen this old store in its heyday. I don't recall it as much different from the way it is today.” She sighed and pushed the button for the first floor.

As the doors slid shut again, Nate looked at her with a kind but curious gaze. “You really do love this place, don't you?”

“Every bit as much or more than you want to get away from it,” she shot back, not meeting his eyes for fear he might see how sad the reminders made her of what Goodwin's had once been and what he and she could never be.

“I don't want to get away from it,” he corrected her with a gentle power in his hushed tone.

“You don't?” Her hair fell over her shoulder as she swung her head to make eye contact with him at last.

“I just don't have any particular reason to stay.” His gaze did not waver as he added, quietly, “Unless…”

The elevator dinged once again, and this time the door rolled open smoothly.

“Unless what?” she wanted to scream but kept silent instead.

“Guess this is our floor,” he said, extending his arm to encourage her to move ahead of him. “What are you looking for?”

She gazed up into his eyes.

“I'm looking for something that I'm not sure I'll ever find,” she whispered enigmatically before she squared her shoulders and got back to work. “That is, anything that might date back to the original publicity stunt. Doc says they used the same signage for the first four years, so they had lots of duplicates.”

She marched to the light switches and flipped them on. Bright light flooded the whole floor—not that they could easily have found anything light or no light.

“Doc Goodwin does not want to close this store.” In an instant Nate summed up what Addie had suspected since she saw all the stuff stored in this building.

She forged ahead, working her way through the stacks of boxes and store counters and display units still positioned where they had been placed many years ago. “Unfortunately, I don't think his son wants to take responsibility for it.”

“Or anything,” Nate muttered as he followed close behind her.

“You're worried about Jesse.” She had almost reached the front of the store. She began to work her way toward a stash of tall, flat cardboard boxes marked Christmas and Goodlife that were propped against the brown paper covering the front window.

“He's a great kid who hasn't gotten a lot of great
breaks in life.” Nate reached the boxes, and seeming to know she wanted to get a peek inside them, he began moving away the things hemming them in. “I wish I could do more for him. Even the school they have him in is struggling.”

“I know. My church sponsors it. I recommended it to the Goodwins because I knew there were so many good people trying to make it work.” She, too, began to move objects, starting with a stack of plastic chairs, which she had to remove one by one. “But enrollment is down, and some of the teachers and administrators are talking about having to find other jobs.”

“The place I'm interviewing in L.A. has so much money coming in, and yet apparently they are always holding fundraisers and raking in more.” He paused with the last box still in his hands and asked, “You don't think we can talk Maimie into putting a donation box up in the store, do you?”

Before Addie could comment on that, she had set aside the last chair and turned to find him freeing the tall box.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” he asked.

“I'm not too picky. I've already seen some items I think we can haul over to set the fifties mood in the windows. But I'd love to find promo items with that classic retro style or—”

“Or the biggest relic of all, a happy nuclear family?”

She twisted in the spot where she stood and looked at all the stuff around them and laughed. “I wouldn't be surprised if there was an actual family living in all this, totally untouched by time.”