Sweet Christmas Kisses (135 page)

“I can get it for you, Mel. Mom may have Maude’s number. I’ll text it to you when I do.”

She sent it to me that day or the next, but having come to my senses in the interim, I didn’t call. The idea of owning my own business had been a silly idea. I was established and successful, and Matthew and I were happy.

Then the final shoe dropped. This particular size twelve, Italian-leather loafer belonged to the owner of the real estate agency where I worked. In order to focus best on the agency’s core mission, there was to be a redistribution of human resources. Translation: The dude’s new girlfriend was coming onboard and I was on my way out.

I may be a little slow on the uptake, but I can tell when fate is kicking me in the rear. At this point I could try to keep my job by whatever means available—could be ugly. Or I could look for something similar in the area. Or I could just take door number three—Serendipity, Indiana, the old hometown I had tried so hard to put in the past. If I’d only had myself to consider, I might have chosen differently. But Matthew made everything in my life different.

“Mommy, I need to potty.”

I looked in the rearview mirror. “Matthew, we just stopped ten minutes ago and did that, remember? We’re almost there, Sweetie.”

“Okay.” He huffed out a big sigh and pulled another storybook out of his backpack. He propped the book onto the arm rest of his car seat and smoothed his blanket a few times with one hand. Dear little Matthew. It was a sudden upheaval, and this trip was wearing on him.

“Sweetie, you’re going to love our new house. It’s big and pretty with lots of windows.”

Matthew met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Tell me about my room, Mommy. Tell me it’s gonna have trucks and soft carpet.”

“Yes, it will. Right now, it’s a nice room, but when we get the trucks painted on the walls, it will be even better. All your friends will wish they had a terrific room like that.”

“Only I don’t have friends, Mommy. We drived away from my friends.”

I stared at the road, unwilling to see my son’s expression. 

“You’ll make lots of new friends in Serendipity, Matthew.”

“I don’t like Sarahdippty. It’s a girl name.”

“Not Sarah, Sweetie. Serendipity. It’s one really long word that isn’t about a girl or a boy. Serendipity is a word that means good luck. Isn’t that a fun name for a town?”

“They should call it Good Luck Town.”

I could tell by his tone that Matthew was getting sleepy. I slid a CD of soft jazz into the player, and he was asleep in a few minutes. By the time he woke up we should be at our destination.

I knew the big house on Main Street would be perfect for us. I had made sure zoning would allow me to use a portion of the house for my real estate office. Even if I eventually needed an assistant, which I anticipated, there was lots of square footage for a grand home—the home I’d wanted all my life. It had taken a long while to get it, but the house—and pretty much everything about the move—had dropped into my lap without much effort from me. Maybe the biggest perk was that I’d be able to walk down the streets of Serendipity, Indiana, as someone who mattered…even though I had tried not caring about that for a long while.

It would have been obvious to me even without road signs that we were nearing my hometown because of the change in terrain. I’d lived in the Chicago area and northern Indiana ever since leaving Serendipity, and, especially early on, I’d missed the rolling hills of southern Indiana. Up north, the roads are flat and straight and actually meet at right angles—a great help if you’re driving around a lot in areas you’re not familiar with. Not so in the southern part of the state. You could start driving east on a road and a mile later, there’s a horseshoe curve in the road and you’re staring into the sunset, due west. Going for a Sunday drive, you could easily end up someplace you didn’t expect at all. That was the roads, but also when you paid attention, it was just the way life tended to work in Serendipity.

I took the exit off I-65, and said a silent
thank you
that Matthew hadn’t stirred. Suddenly, on this familiar two-lane highway I had traveled a million times in my youth, I was anxious about my decision to move back and what kind of welcome we might receive. However, given that I had already burned my bridges behind me, it was a little late for second thoughts.

I wiped my sweaty palms one at a time on the fabric of my designer jeans, and concentrated on breathing calmly. Moving back here would work out. I would make sure of it.

Twenty minutes later, I slowed the SUV to a crawl at the Serendipity city limits. Off to the right was a new-looking medical plaza. That certainly hadn’t existed when I left. Just across the road from the new medical plaza stood the big white farm house where one of my high school classmates had grown up. Black Angus cattle, not impressed one way or the other about Serendipity’s progress, calmly grazed in the large field near the house, just as their ancestors had done.

The town had always been boring and way behind the times. That was part of why I’d moved away, of course. I came to the stop light and had to wait. A few blocks away to the left, the stately courthouse was visible. I looked forward to the first time Matthew would see the castle-like building, but that was for another day. Right now, I was too tired from driving and trying to keep Matthew entertained along the way.

The light changed to green and I turned right onto Main Street and a hundred yards later, left into our driveway.

“Are we there yet?” Matthew asked thickly.

“We sure are, Sweetie. We sure are.”

I sat for a moment looking at our home. The big square house was perfect as ever, newly painted white and with forest green shutters that matched the roof on the deep-set front porch. So beautiful, just as it had always been.

“Is this our house, Mommy?”

I hurried to unbuckle my son from his car seat. “Yes. Isn’t it beautiful? We’ll be so happy here, Matthew.”

“Big. It is so
big
!” He stared in awe. “Can I have a dog?”

I laughed nervously. Where had that question come from? “Let’s go in and see the house.”

I took his hand and led him to the side door at the driveway, lifted a small concrete figurine of a boy and girl kissing, and plucked the key from its hiding place. All the paperwork had been taken care of by email and snail-mail, and the realtor had told me where to find the key. I immediately worked it onto my ring. No way would I permanently leave a key out for anyone to find. That was one facet of small town life I’d never buy into. That and simply leaving doors unlocked. Ridiculous to do such things these days, for sure.

We entered the side door. I found a light switch and flipped it. A large chandelier filled the room with light.

“Ooh.” said Matthew. He let go of my hand and walked directly under the dining room chandelier, staring up at it, awestruck. “Shiny.”

“Melissa. Hey, I know you’re in there.”

In a few seconds I was caught up in a tight hug.

“Carla. How did you know we were here? I hadn’t even had a chance to text or call.”

Carla Standish took a half step back but had a death grip on my upper arms.

“You
have
been gone a long time.” she laughed, her dark eyes sparkling. “Out-of-county license plate on a black Acura SUV turning into the drive of the old Osborne house which, according to the sales disclosure listings in the paper a week ago, was sold to the mysterious MM Investments. Information moves fast in Serendipity—faster than ever. I knew you were here before you did, honey.”

Small town stuff. It would take a while to get used to again. I pulled my dear friend into another hug and then releasing Carla, swept Matthew up into my arms.

“Carla, you remember Matthew.” He uncertainly looked around for his blanket which he’d left in the car. He started smoothing my long hair instead, a motion that helped calm him.

Carla looked stunned for a second, but then stuck out her hand. “Matthew, I haven’t seen you since you were just a little guy. Wow, you’ve changed now you’re growing up.” She tipped her head and smiled, pulling his hand into hers to shake it. “Even more handsome. I know your mommy is really proud of you.”

I nuzzled my son’s soft cheek. “Sweetie, Carla and I were best friends when we were kids.”

Matthew’s brow wrinkled as he tried to imagine us as children.

“Carla, do you have a dog?”

“Dog? Nope, but my parents—uh, my mom—has a great dog. Her name is Daisy. Would you like to meet her?”

“Yes. Can she come visit us?” He looked from Carla to me. “Mommy, can Daisy come here?”

He had stopped smoothing my hair, so I leaned down and set him on the floor. He seemed heavier today than yesterday even, he was growing so quickly. “Goodness, Sweetie, you’re getting to be such a big boy.”

He nodded soberly. “So probly I should get a dog. Right, Mommy?”

Carla beamed down at him. “Matthew, you’re a busy boy, aren’t you?”

He looked uncertain and stepped a little behind me. “Maybe.”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong. Busy is good. You ask a lot of questions, I bet.”

“No bet,” I replied.

Carla looked deeply into my eyes for a moment. “Let’s look around your house, Matthew. Then we’ll make sure you and Mommy have a good dinner. How would that be?”

“Good.” He stepped out from behind me. “Chicken nuggets?”

Carla rolled her eyes but smiled. “Hmm. That might have to wait ‘til another time.”

I just wanted to throw myself onto my huge leather sofa, eat a bunch of carbs, and drink wine. The fact that none of those things were currently in the house just made me want them more.

Thank God for reinforcements. Carla’s sister Francie and their mom, Lillian Standish, arrived then, and right behind them was Alice.

“Housewarming party,” Francie announced. She was carrying grocery bags that looked promising.

“How long was your drive today?” Lillian asked as she hugged me.

“Eight hours when you include stops to—you know, potty and have a picnic and watch bugs on the sidewalk.”

She smiled, maybe remembering when her own boys were small. Lillian had changed so much in the last few months, since her husband died. She was still lovely, but carried an aura of sadness. Even when she smiled, she looked sad.

Alice propped the side door open and brought in more grocery bags. “We considered taking you out to eat, but thought you might enjoy just unwinding here.”

“Sounds like heaven. Not that I have furniture yet—”

“We’ll make do,” said Carla, who handed Matthew a bag to carry. “But hey, before we eat, let’s have the grand tour. I want to see this place. It’s been years.”

“For me, too. A little scary buying it sight unseen.” I’d known the Osbornes would leave it in immaculate shape, but also remembered the last time I’d been in the house. That fiasco was emblazoned on my brain.

We trooped through the elegant dining room into the big sunny kitchen.

“Wow. This looks brand new, doesn’t it?” Carla ran a hand along the red granite countertop. “Gorgeous. New cabinets, state-of-the-art appliances—”

“Mommy?” Matthew had pulled his hand out of Carla’s and was trying to unlatch the back door. “Can I go outside?”

“We can walk out for a minute, Sweetie.” I was excited for him to see what was out there, but a bit apprehensive for myself.

The grocery bags were unceremoniously plopped onto the beautiful countertop and pitchers of tea stuck into the fridge.

“Oh my God. I’d forgotten about this,” Francie whispered.

A beautiful in-ground pool lined in mosaic tile, an elegant deck surrounding it, complete with a pool house for changing, took up the area between the back of the house and the fence on the property line. There were large terra cotta containers that could hold flowers in the summer, but now they were empty, as was the pool.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” I’d been imagining pool parties for Matthew and his friends, and lazy weekends soaking up rays, or reading thick novels under an umbrella as I watched Matthew paddling back and forth on a big inflatable raft. It would be perfect! The pain and sadness I had associated with this pool for years could be left behind, replaced with happy memories, love and laughter.

“My goodness, that’s a lot of swimming pool.” Lillian looked around. “No backyard at all?”

“That’s part of the beauty of it. No maintenance.”

“No yard to cut,” Alice corrected. “The pool will be a lot of maintenance. I’m surprised the Osbornes kept it up all these years. It’s even prettier than I remember.”

I hugged myself in delight, watching Matthew explore the deck levels and try to peer between the boards of the tall white fence that surrounded the lot. “I’ll hire somebody to deal with the pool, if I need to. We’ll love it.”

“Cabana boy?” Carla nudged Alice and laughed. Shaking my head and laughing too, I led the way back into the kitchen.

I promised Matthew we would come back out later, and led him toward the house. “We can have picnics out here, Sweetie.” I looked hopefully at the pool house. “In theory, the deck furniture is in there. They were supposed to leave things like that. It was part of the agreement.” The door was locked. “And the key was to be left in the kitchen on a hook. I’ll check in a few. On to the rest of the house.”

We filed up the back stairway which was beautiful hardwood and pleasantly squeaky with age. A central hallway ran the length of the house, with four huge bedrooms opening off of it. The master suite had a walk-in closet, glorious bathroom done all in black, white, and chrome, with double sinks, a separate bath tub and shower, bidet, and toilet. Two other bedrooms shared a bath between them, and the fourth bedroom, across the hall from the master suite, had its own bathroom, smaller than the master but with similarly luxurious appointments. The hall and bedrooms were carpeted in white, and the secondary bathrooms were tiled in bright, happy colors.

The ladies said little but took it all in, eyes wide. Matthew repeatedly exclaimed, “Wow. It’s so
big.
”

It was indeed. Big and beautiful. Nearly palatial by Serendipity standards. It was even more wonderful than when I had been here years ago and fallen hard—in love with the house and out of love with the handsome quarterback of the Serendipity Pirates football team.