Love Finds You on Christmas Morning (2 page)

“Lord, thank You for the meal my wife has prepared, as humble as it may be.”

As soon as Daddy finished praying, Lillian started eating. They’d run out of the meat she’d purchased with her last earnings, so their plates were filled with potatoes, onions, fried okra, and a slab of corn bread—the standard meal on the Pickard table at the end of a pay period.

“So tell me about that Tronnier boy.” Her daddy set down his fork.

Lillian shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. He drove me straight home.”

“You must have talked about something. Did he ask you about your work?”

“No.” Lillian didn’t mention the fact that William had stopped by the Five and Dime periodically since she’d met him, loading up on silly, nonessential things she never would have wasted her money on. But then, she didn’t have spare money; he obviously did.

“You had to talk about something. I can’t imagine a young man being completely silent with a pretty girl sitting right there beside him.”

Mama cast a glance in his direction. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for someone in Mr. Tronnier’s position to consider someone like our Lillian, even if she is the prettiest girl in town.”

Lillian held up both hands. “Please, let’s stop talking about this. Mr. Tronnier saw me walking in the rain, so he was kind enough to offer me a ride home. Nothing else.”

“I agree. That was a very kind gesture, and we shouldn’t read more into it than what it is.” Mama sighed and forced a smile as she directed her attention to another topic. “How was work today?”

As much as Lillian didn’t feel like discussing work, she was happy for a different subject. She dug deep and came up with a few anecdotal stories to share with her parents.

“Joachim needs to hire someone else,” Daddy said. “You shouldn’t have to run that place all by yourself.”

“He was there most of the day,” Lillian said in her boss’s defense, even though she wholeheartedly agreed.

Daddy pushed away from the table. “I sure hope he finds someone to work through the holidays. The way people spend money these days, you’ll be swamped. You might want to ask for a raise.”

“I plan to,” she replied.

“Good. After you get more money, all that work won’t seem so bad.”

Lillian disagreed. She didn’t particularly enjoy her job, and she suspected that Mr. Joachim wouldn’t have hired her if he’d had more qualified candidates. But everyone in town who wanted to work had a job, and she’d arrived at the Five and Dime when he was desperate for help.

Over time, she’d learned that when people walked into the store, they generally knew what they wanted. And if she spotted an opportunity to sell them something else based on what they plopped onto the counter, all she had to do was mention it. Occasionally they even took her suggestion. As for the numbers…well, she still had trouble counting money. Mama said she got that from her. She wished she had a fraction of her father’s math skills.

“Got any dessert?” Daddy asked.

“Just some shortbread I made from the recipe your mother gave me.” Mama smiled. “Maybe we can budget for some store-bought cookies after Lillian gets her raise.”

“There’s no guarantee Mr. Joachim will give me a raise. I just said I planned to ask for one.”

“The way he’s raising prices in that store, surely he’ll see that you can’t afford to keep working there on the salary he pays you.”

Lillian couldn’t afford
not
to keep working there, but she kept her comments to herself. Mama didn’t understand business, and Daddy had lost touch with reality after not working for so long.

She sat and listened to her parents go on and on about the state of the economy—about how people were foolish and spending every dime they had as though it would never run out. Lillian suspected it wouldn’t run out for many of them since they had decent jobs that paid well.

“You look like you could use a little more rest tonight, Lil. Why don’t you go to bed early?” Mama said. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Lillian wasn’t about to argue. Her feet throbbed from trying to wear the high heels one of the women from church had given her. She didn’t care how in-style they were. Tomorrow she was wearing flats, even if they were dowdy. What did she care? It wasn’t as though she could fool anyone into thinking she was a fashion expert.

She went back to her bedroom, closed the door behind her, turned around, and studied her reflection in the mirror again. Her long, curly hair was terribly out-of-date. She lifted the ends and tucked them beneath her collar, trying to imagine herself with one of the shorter bobs so many of the girls in town were sporting.
Maybe one of these days
… She tilted her head and studied her look some more. Mama and Daddy would have a fit, but a cute bob might be just what she needed.

“We expected you home an hour ago,” William’s mother said. “What kept you so long?”

William grinned as his face grew hot. “I had a little fun showing off the automobile.”

“I bet it was a girl,” his brother Mason retorted. “That’s the only thing that’ll set a man’s face on fire.”

Their mom turned to him with a grin. “Did you meet up with a girl, William?”

“Well…not exactly.” He shot his brother a pretend fierce glare.

Mason folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Wanna tell us her name?”

“You don’t know her,” William said.

“Try me.” Mason tilted his head, lifted an eyebrow, and grinned.

“Lillian Pickard.”

“Oh, I know who she is,” Mother said. “Isn’t she the girl who works at Joachim’s?”

“Yes, she’s the one.”

“Pretty girl,” Mason said. “Maybe a little old-fashioned for you, though, Will.”

“What’s wrong with old-fashioned?”

Mason shrugged. “Nothing’s wrong with it. I just thought you could do better. You’re the looker in the family.”

“Mason!” Their mother frowned at the older of the two sons. “If Will likes a girl who is old-fashioned, what business is it of yours? And it would certainly do you some good to stop chasing after all the silly, prissy young women you seem to fancy.”

William shot his brother an I-could-have-told-you-so look. “It doesn’t matter. She’s not interested in me. I took advantage of the rain and offered her a ride home.”

“How do you know this girl?” Mother asked.

“She was at Ina and Merv Jordan’s Christmas party last year.”

“Yes, I remember.” Mason narrowed his eyes. “In fact, you had her cornered for almost an hour. Even if she’d wanted to meet other people, she wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I didn’t have her cornered. We enjoyed chatting.”

“That’s not how I remem—”

Their mother cleared her throat. “Boys! That’s enough. So when do you plan to see Miss Pickard again?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.”

“That doesn’t sound like the brother I know.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll see her again, William,” their mother said. “Cary isn’t that big of a town.”

William smiled and gave her a hug. “I’m sure I’ll see her, but that might be as far as it goes. She doesn’t seem interested in me as a suitor, and I’m not about to push myself on her.”

He started for the stairs but was stopped by the sound of his brother coming from behind. William glanced over his shoulder and saw that the two of them were alone in the foyer. “So what have you been doing all day?”

“Amos wanted to get out of the office, so I helped Pop with the books. His accountant told him he needed to hire someone, but he doesn’t know anyone who needs a job.”

William chuckled. “I’m surprised he was able to get you to sit still long enough to work on the books.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t easy.” Mason ran his fingers through his freshly cut hair. “So tell me more about Lillian Pickard. Sorry about some of my comments earlier. I was just joking. She would be very pretty if she’d update her hairstyle and wear better clothes.”

“I’ve never cared about that. In fact, I like how she wears her hair. She’s different.”

“Yes, you can say that again. She is definitely different. I didn’t want to say this in front of Mom, but one day I stopped in to pick up a few things at Joachim’s and I caught her eating a pickle sandwich. She quickly stuck it beneath the counter, but she had a big mouthful to swallow before she could offer to help me. I thought, ‘How odd. What kind of girl would eat a pickle sandwich?’ ”

“Why do you care what kind of sandwich she eats? Not everyone likes a side of beef for lunch every day.” William gave his brother a onceover glance. “You might do yourself a favor by eating a pickle sandwich every now and then.”

“Touché, brother.” Mason patted his belly. “Some of the girls like me this way. There’s a whole lot more to love.”

“Good point,” William said, grinning.

“You could use a little more meat on those long, lanky bones of yours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” William took a step toward the stairs then stopped. “By the way, no offense intended.”

“None taken.”

William loved his brothers, even when they got on his nerves. Mason was the oldest of five children, three of them boys. William was the middle child, and Amos was the youngest. Their two sisters, the second oldest, Loretta, and the second from the youngest, Virginia, had both married young, and they already had five children between them. William loved his nieces and nephews and hoped he’d be blessed with children of his own someday.

Lillian arrived at the Five and Dime five minutes before the store opened the next morning. Mr. Joachim pounced on her the second she walked in. “You’re late.”

She glanced at the wall clock. “I still have five minutes.”

“You know I need you here early to get the place ready.”

With a sweeping gesture, she shook her head. “I swept and dusted yesterday before I left, so there shouldn’t be anything left to do.”

“I don’t want you cleaning while we have customers in the store.”

Lillian opened her mouth to argue and say that she cleaned between customers, but she knew it would be a losing battle. Besides, Mr. Joachim already seemed to be in a bad mood, and there was no point in infuriating him further. “Have you looked at the receipts?” she asked. “We had a good day yesterday.”

“That’s nice. Now get back behind the counter. I’ll open up.”

Within an hour, the store was packed with customers—mostly women picking up personal items and things for their homes. During the lunch hour, working girls came in looking for accessories and hair products. None of them wanted to be bothered taking advice from a girl who obviously didn’t use what she was selling. Following a brief afternoon lull, a more eclectic crowd arrived—women pushing strollers, children who’d gotten out of school, and a few regular customers.

Mr. Joachim remained at the store until closing. Afterward, he stood at the end of the main aisle as she walked up and down the rows with the feather duster. When she finished the last of the rows, he held out the broom and dustpan. Good thing she’d worn her flats, or she’d be limping. As it was, she had a blister on her foot from the day before. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable.

After she finished cleaning, he handed her an envelope. “Get your things and get outta here. See you Monday morning.”

She gladly did as she was told, and she clenched her jaw to keep from saying anything. Mr. Joachim wasn’t as bad as he came across, but as tired as she was, her thoughts weren’t exactly pleasant. She stuffed the envelope filled with her weekly pay into her purse and walked out the door.

The first thing she spotted when she rounded the corner toward home was William Tronnier standing on the side of the road, leaning against his automobile. When he noticed her, he lifted a hand and motioned for her to get in.

“Thank you,” she said, “but I can walk.”

“Why would you want to, with me right here?”

Good point, but she couldn’t get in without an argument. “I like walking?”

“Maybe so, but you’ve been on your feet all day. I’m giving you a chance to ride home in style.” A playful smile teased his lips.

She paused then got into his automobile and waited for him to run around to his side. “What are you doing here again today?” she asked when he joined her inside the car.

“Waiting for you.”

“Tell me the truth.”

He lifted one hand as he shrugged and gave her a quick glance before turning his attention back to driving. “That is the truth. I just happened to be in town, so I hung around to take you home.”

The sliver of hope dashed, and she sighed. She should have known better than to think he’d drive all the way into town just for her.

“So how was your day? Better than yesterday, I hope.”

“It was good.” She smoothed her hands over her dress. “Busy.”

“I like hearing that. Business seems good for everyone. These are some very good times all around.”

Maybe for some people, but Lillian wasn’t exactly feeling the effects of such great times. “I suppose.”

Lillian wasn’t very talkative today, and William felt awkward. He racked his brain to think of something interesting to say.

Finally he forced a laugh. “My brother Mason told me he caught you eating a pickle sandwich.”

“He caught me?” Confusion replaced her look of exhaustion. “Is there anything wrong with eating a pickle sandwich?”

“No, not at all.” William hated that he’d made her defensive.

She folded her arms and slumped in the seat. “I eat pickle sandwiches when I don’t have anything else to bring for lunch.”

Of course.
It had never dawned on him that she ate something odd simply because that was all she could afford.

“I am so sorry, Lillian. I had no idea.”

“I bet there are a lot of things you have no idea about.” She pulled herself straighter as they stopped in front of her house. “Like what it means to have to work for someone at a job you don’t love and go home too tired to do anything—and then have to repeat it all the next day.”

“Hold on there, Lillian. I never meant to insult you.”

“But you did.”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

She cleared her throat and nodded but wouldn’t look him in the eye. His mouth went dry as he tried to figure out what to say or do.