Hope at Christmas Read online

  Sydney rested her elbows on the tall counter. “I need to keep myself busy until I start my job after the first of the year.”

  “Really? What is it exactly that you do?”

  Jon had never wanted her to work, so her résumé was lean.

  “Well,” Sydney faltered for words. “All I’ve ever been is a mom and a wife, but I have a business degree. I did graphic arts for my ex, but that was all freelance stuff. My work won him a couple of his biggest contracts, so I think I have something to offer there.”

  “Being a mother and a wife is underrated. Budgets, schedules, creativity, project planning, and patience. I’d say any good CEO should have all of that.” Bea’s expression was sincere.

  Sydney worried that even with more than ten years in that role, raising RayAnne through all of this change and working full-time was going to be more than she was ready for, but she couldn’t slip into that worrisome dark place again.

  “It takes all kinds of skills to accomplish the demands on a mother. So, you must be the new hire over at Peabody’s.”

  “I am. How did you know?”

  Bea’s soft grin turned up on the corners in a bit of a smirk. “Nice thing about owning The Book Bea is I get all of the scoops. The folks who own Peabody’s shop here. Nice family. I heard they are doing the marketing for a new movie studio, and a boot company. Things are going really well for them. That’s big news in a town like this. They’re good people. You’re going to love working with them.”

  “Thank you. Now if I can stay busy through the holidays without going crazy until I start working, then I’ll be fine. My daughter is leaving as soon as school gets out to spend Christmas with her dad. It’s going to be really quiet without her around.”

  “You know…” Bea pressed a finger to her lips. “I could use a little help around here.”

  Sydney knew that her face probably lit up like a jack-o-lantern. Hopefully not a totally goofy one, but a pleasant, smiling one.

  “Don’t get too excited. The pay is lousy, and the job is a little of this and that, and only through the holidays. I can add the bonus of free books, though. If you’re interested.”

  “Really?” Sydney could really use some extra cash. She wasn’t on a super-tight budget, but she needed to be careful. No matter what, there was no way she’d ask Jon for money, even if they had to resort to eating cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  “Yes. It would be a huge help.”

  “I’ll do it,” Sydney said. “Of course I will.”

  She felt like dancing a jig. Heck, swinging Bea in a do-si-do seemed appropriate, but she held her feet firmly to the ground. “Thank you so much. I won’t let you down.”

  The rows and rows of bookcases held a feeling of order that was welcoming in the chaos of her life these days. And how those bookshelves seemed orderly amid the varying sizes, thicknesses, and colors of the spines was interesting. Yes, this place might just be the ticket to getting a little order in her own house.

  “When can you start?” Bea asked.

  “How about now? I don’t have to pick up RayAnne until school lets out at three.”

  “Excellent.” Bea pointed to the left side of the checkout counter. There was a stack of boxes labeled CHRISTMAS piled next to an artificial tree that had dust clinging to its limbs. “I’ve got to start decorating the store, but the arthritis has really been giving me a holy terror lately. Maybe we could start there.”

  “I can definitely do that,” Sydney said, and then a sinking feeling settled over her as she recalled that she’d never hung a single Christmas light in her life. Not because she couldn’t, but because as a kid her daddy had had that honor, and once she’d married Jon he’d always handled it. Oh well, time to step up.

  Bea leaned forward and whispered. “At least I was smart enough to leave all the outside lights up at the end of the season last year. One flip of the switch and folks passing by will think we’ve been busy as bees in here.” Bea gave Sydney a playful wink. “Bees. Bea. Get it?”

  “Yes. I get it.” Sydney laughed. A little too hearty as it conjured up a very unladylike snort, but it was freeing to laugh over something silly.

  Yes, working here, even for just a few weeks, would be a good thing. Plus, she hadn’t planned to decorate, since RayAnne would be leaving soon to stay the whole Christmas vacation with her dad.

  “I’m so excited to help you out over the holidays,” Sydney said.

  Bea’s smile spread wide, little lipstick lines dancing in the wrinkles around her lips. She clapped her hands, and then held them to her heart. “Thank you, dear. You already know the layout of the store, it’s never changed since I opened it. There is a washroom and storage area just under the staircase. And a small office back there.” She reached into the register and pulled out a key on a keychain with a metal enamel bee on it. “Here’s a key in case you need it. This is going to be a really good way to end the year.”

  Sydney set her purse on the counter. Step five on Sydney’s list was to get into the holiday spirit, and this seemed to be the perfect way to begin. “I should be able to make some good progress before I have to pick up RayAnne. Shall we get started?”

  Bea came around the counter and pulled her into a hug. “I had a feeling today was going to be extra special. So good to see you again, Sydney.”

  Her mood lifted, and the tight worry was replaced with peaceful relief from her accomplishments today. And Bea’s hug helped more than she’d ever know. The old woman smelled of peppermint Life Savers and sugar cookies, and her hug held the kindness that Sydney hadn’t felt since the last time she’d seen Gram. “I’m glad we crossed paths today. I needed this,” she said to Bea.

  Bea stepped back and took Sydney’s hand into hers. “I think we may have needed each other today.” She led Sydney toward the front of the store. “I usually decorate this window for the holiday, but I can’t crawl around like I used to. Could you come up with a display for it? The town folks kind of count on our decorations as part of the caroling tour.”

  “The caroling tour?”

  “Oh yes. Each of the merchants sponsors a song. It’s quite popular. Even folks from neighboring counties join in. The carolers start in front of any shop. Each storefront gives away a different song page, and we provide the music on a loop. By the end of the night each participant has a whole Christmas songbook as a keepsake.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “It is.”

  “How do you pick a song?”

  “We don’t pick them out ourselves. The mayor assigns them randomly the day after Thanksgiving. The town makes the song sheets up for us. They’ll deliver them to us closer to the event. Mine is ‘O Christmas Tree’ this year.”

  Sydney tried to maintain a pleasant smile, but that dusty old Christmas tree she’d seen next to the counter wasn’t going to cut it. Certainly not as the main feature of the window to represent the song. She was going to have to think fast. She hoped the smile she pasted over her grimace looked confident. “I’ll come up with something innovative and eye-catching for the window to go with that carol.”

  Bea’s smile softened. “We’ll have to use what we’ve got here. I’m afraid I don’t have a budget for decorations this year.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I have just the thing.” She glanced around the room with absolutely no idea what she could do, but she wasn’t about to admit defeat on hour one of her new job. “And I believe we have everything we need right here. With one exception.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll bring RayAnne over after school to give me a hand.”

  “Have her pick out a couple of books for helping.”

  “She’ll love that. Thank you.”

  A set of wind chimes sent a rich, muted sound through the room. Sydney followed the sound to a set of brass tubes hanging from a wooden dragonfly sculpture above the cash register. Thin fishing line ran from the chimes just below the coffered ceiling all the way to the
doorway. Clever. And way more pleasant than those door alarms so many people used in their shops.

  The UPS man wheeled in a cart with two boxes on it. “Good morning, Miss Bea. Got two for you. It’s been a while. Thought maybe you were cheating on me with another delivery man.”

  Bea giggled like a flirty teenager. “You know that would never happen. Just haven’t been ordering much, but can’t get through the holidays without one last shipment of Christmas books.”

  “You know I’ll be back to pick up the missus a couple of those Christmas novels. She counts on those in her stocking.”

  “And I’ve got the wrapping paper and ribbon just waiting on you.” She gave him a playful wink.

  He dropped the boxes next to the counter. “You have a good day now.”

  Sydney reached for the pair of scissors on the counter. “How about I go ahead and unpack these and put them on display so the customers can have at them? I’ll work on the decorations after hours. Less clutter for your customers.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. And the decorations will be a fun mother-daughter project.” Sydney unpacked the boxes, stacking the books along the edge of the counter. A small table holding ink pens and other impulse-buy items caught her eye. Those things could fit on the counter right near the register.

  It didn’t take long to create a nice little arrangement at the checkout, and then she got right down to work on the Christmas book display. The shiny foil covers looked pretty enough without additional decoration, but maybe she could come up with something festive once she and RayAnne figured out what they’d do for the window display.

  She checked her watch. How had that much time already swept by? “Bea, I need to run and pick up RayAnne. We’ll be back in a while to work on the decorations.”

  “Thanks, Sydney. Take your key. No need to rush. If I’m not here just make yourself at home.”

  Sydney suddenly fought back tears. So much had shifted since this morning. “Thank you so much, Bea, for trusting me and giving me a chance to get my feet under me before I start my new job. This is exactly what I needed. How can I ever thank you enough?”

  “Don’t be silly. You were meant to come in here today. Trust your journey, dear. It will take you where you’re supposed to go.”

  “I sure hope so, because I’ll tell you that the journey I’ve been on for the past year has not been a pleasant one.”

  Bea nodded. “I can tell. There’s trouble in your eyes. We’ll sit and talk about it one day when you’re ready. But I’ll say this much: Your troubles will pass and you will see that something better is ahead of you. Someone better, if I were to say what was really on my mind.”

  And hadn’t she done just that? Said what she wanted to say? At least she hadn’t spouted that “one door closes another opens” hogwash. Sydney didn’t plan to walk through anyone’s door any time soon, if ever, anyway. “I’ll be glad to have the troubles pass, but I’m not looking for anyone. I’ve decided solo is the way to go. No heartbreak. No lies. No problem.”

  Bea just grinned. “Sure, dear.”

  So Bea was a hopeless romantic. She could believe what she wanted, but what Sydney believed was that it wouldn’t hurt RayAnne one bit to see that a woman didn’t need a man and that you had to work for the things you wanted.

  “Tomorrow you will walk into a Christmas wonderland.” Sydney picked up her purse and headed out the door feeling about three inches taller. She smiled at every tree along the path and every puffy white cloud in the sky. Wrapping her fingers around the strap of her shoulder bag, she waited at the stoplight to cross over.

  As she walked to her car, she took a closer look at the other shop windows along Main Street. Her competitive nature was already shifting into high gear.

  She took in a deep breath and then blew out all the negative energy, letting it seal up like a bubble and float away, just like she’d read to do in one of the books that she’d downloaded about surviving the stress of divorce.

  That deep breath was the first one that felt like it might actually work. Thank goodness, because she’d tried just about everything.

  * * *

  Sydney walked past the bike shop, cleverly named Wheelies. The shiny bike in the window caught her eye. It would be a splurge. Probably not a smart one in their situation, but one shiny gift was all she could do, so she wanted it to be a good one. Ten minutes later she walked out of Wheelie’s as the owner hung a SOLD card from the handlebars of RayAnne’s Christmas present. She’d told RayAnne they’d celebrate Christmas when she got back from being with her dad. That seemed a long ways off.

  Sydney wondered if the splurge would look more like a pet rock following Jon’s fancy getaway. Expensive gifts were Jon’s love language. Always had been, and she had no doubt he’d go overboard more than usual this year with all that was going on.

  Next door, Cookie Doe, a bakery with its glass case filled with all kinds of desserts, had her mouth watering. She walked inside, and the scent of sugar and frosting and something slightly peanutty wrapped around her. She knew exactly what she was going to buy the instant she laid eyes on it.

  “Three peanut butter cookies, please.”

  “Just took them out of the oven a little while ago. Probably still warm,” said the man behind the counter.

  “Doesn’t get much better than that.” As she waited for them to be packaged up, she turned and looked at his window display. A three-story gingerbread house filled most of it, and cookies in the shape of snowflakes hung from wide white satin ribbon, each with shiny frosty white icing and those little BB-looking silver dragées. The window was simple and elegant.

  Less is more, Sydney thought.

  The man behind the counter thrust a white wax paper bag her way. She paid for the cookies then stepped outside, stopping only to snap a quick picture for inspiration before heading to her car.

  On the way to the school, Sydney hoped the cookies might allow for a momentary return of her daughter’s sweet attitude. Her little daddy’s girl blamed her for Jon leaving them. RayAnne was mad. And hurt. And some days Sydney couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was her own fault. If she’d only done …

  She stopped herself. There’d be no more of that. She had been a good wife, doggone it. The divorce was not her fault, which was all the more reason for her to move on.

  Trying to ease the heavy burden of worry, she shoved her hand into the bag of cookies.

  At the stoplight she took a bite.

  There really wasn’t much a homemade peanut butter cookie couldn’t make better. At least for a minute.

  Chapter Two

  Mac turned his back to the chalkboard and faced his students. It was almost impossible to keep their attention during the last school week before Christmas vacation. Not that he could blame them. He was looking forward to the holiday, too, so he’d taken a departure from the planned curriculum. “Our topic this week is the history of the National Christmas Tree Lighting.”

  The classroom of teens hooted and hollered. He knew it wasn’t because they loved the topic but because they thought it was an easy one. He didn’t mind; he’d help them find their Christmas spirit.

  “If someone will get the lights, I’ve got a documentary for you today.”

  “You rock, Mr. MacAlee,” Bubba Monroe hollered from the back of the room as he leapt from his desk and raced to man the light switch.

  “There’ll still be a quiz. So listen up, and take notes. Anyone know when the White House had its first Christmas tree?”

  His size made it easy to command a room, and being the baseball coach didn’t hurt. He was tough, but these kids worked hard and had earned a break.

  “1492,” a kid in the back yelled.

  “Uh, no. That would be when Columbus sailed the ocean blue. It started with President Calvin Coolidge in 1923 with a forty-eight-foot fir. This movie will take you through all of the traditions and how they’ve changed over the years.”

  Mac pressed pl
ay on the video panel. “Bubba, lights please.”

  The room dimmed and then filled with the sound of jingling sleigh bells and a deep, rich voice-over. Mac settled in behind his desk, reviewing his calendar and list of to-dos.

  The video ran until just a few minutes before the bell. He turned up the lights and stepped back in front of his class. Rubbing his hands together, he asked, “Anyone learn anything new?”

  Every student nodded.

  “Good. Here’s your homework.”

  A collective groan rolled across the room.

  He withheld a grin. “Each of you needs to go out and find a piece of holiday trivia from pre-1920.”

  The bell rang, and notebooks slapped closed like a clap of thunder.

  “You’ll each report on what you learned tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me.”

  As the kids made a scramble for the door, Mac straightened the desks and raised the blinds, going through his normal end-of-day routine.

  His son, Seth, was in middle school, and they released an hour after his high schoolers. That gave Mac an hour to get things done.

  At twelve years old, Seth wasn’t keen on the idea of carpooling with his dad to and from school, but ever since Genna left them, Mac had felt the need to be as present as possible, and that short ride guaranteed them time together before Seth got absorbed into after-school activities.

  He closed his classroom door behind him and walked the empty hall.

  “Have a great afternoon, Mac.”

  He recognized his co-worker’s voice immediately. He didn’t even have to look, but he did to be polite, then lifted his hand in the air. “Good night, Miranda.” She had a knack for popping up whenever he was alone. He’d hoped the wave and the fact he hadn’t broken stride would deter her, but she jogged over to catch up with him.

  “A bunch of us are meeting up for drinks tonight at the Billy Goat Grill. You coming?”

  “No.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “Can’t. I have plans.”

  Her shoulders dropped. “Come on. You never do anything fun. Get a sitter.”