Christmas Joy Read online

  Jason, the owner of the hardware store, had already been hard at work this morning. A wintry scene showcased a Mr. Snowman made from five-gallon paint buckets with blue spigot handles for eyes, holding the gloved hand of a snow kid who’d been fashioned out of regular paint cans with a red bucket turned upside down as a hat. Mrs. Snowman stood next to a Christmas tree as if decorating it while she watched the boys play nearby in the snowy backdrop. The tree was the same one Jason had created last year—made from hand-tied nuts, bolts, and all kinds of shiny gadgets into twenty-four six-foot lengths of hardware garland swept out to form the shape of a shiny metallic tree. A huge bow made of drywall tape spray-painted Carolina chrome graced the top.

  Ben edged closer to the window, trying to figure out what Jason had used to create the snowy substrate beneath the snowman.

  Popcorn? Well, not edible popcorn. Ceiling spray texture used to touch up those old popcorn ceilings. Genius. It really does look like snow, and it probably didn’t take two bags to fill the whole window. A twenty-buck solution.

  It wasn’t quite so original as Jason’s Halloween display—an array of different types of brooms hung from wire with WITCH BROOM? spelled out in an assortment of nails and tacks hammered into a length of one-by-eight wood—but pretty cool just the same.

  The bells on the front door jingled as Ben walked inside.

  Jason pushed his long hair behind his ear and gave Ben a chin-nod as he cut a key for an old man in an Elmer Fudd earflap hat. “Hey, bro, be right with you.”

  “Take your time.” Ben headed toward the counter, the ladder clanking against the floor with each step he took. They weren’t related, but there’d been a time when the two of them hung out so much that people thought the two tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed guys were brothers.

  Ben inhaled the familiar smell of bagged fertilizer left over from the summer. That, mixed with the oily metallic scent from the key-cutting machine and the woodsy, sweet scent of sap of fresh lumber, teased his senses. This hardware store always brought back good memories. He and Jason had racked up hours of hard work there as teens, learning skills that you just didn’t get in school.

  “Nice job on the window,” Ben said.

  “Thanks. You done decorating already?” Jason lowered a pair of clear safety glasses and put the final cuts on the key.

  “Hospital? Pretty much. Haven’t started at my house, but don’t need this scaffold for that.” Ben slid the ladder back into the bin from which Jason had removed it yesterday, then meandered over to the counter. Once the customer left with his keys, Ben said, “But that scaffold worked like a charm putting up the tree at the hospital. Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.”

  “The girls had a system going, one up on the scaffold stringing lights as the other pushed her around the tree. Saved a ton of time. Then they repeated the process with the bucket of ornaments. Have to admit it looked like they were having fun. I was a little envious.”

  “Well, putting up Christmas decorations isn’t the worst thing you can ask people to do. Has to be better than desk work.”

  “True. They got the tree done so quickly that we were able to get the live pine roping up too. Thanks for ordering that with your discount. The lobby smells great.”

  Jason rang up another customer, then leaned on the counter. “No problem. Since I couldn’t be there to help this year, I’m glad I could at least give you a hand with supplies. That rolling scaffold was the best twenty bucks I ever spent at an auction.”

  Friends since junior high, he and Jason had been to more than their fair share of farm and equipment auctions with the older men from Mars Hardware. Once Ben had scratched his head and ended up buying a stack of oak rough-cut lumber. Getting splinters in both hands, and sweating it out in the Carolina humidity, had taught Ben a hard lesson about the art of conduct at an auction.

  Unlike Ben’s dad, who had crunched numbers his whole life and wasn’t much of an outdoorsman, Jason’s dad farmed, and his grandfather owned the hardware store. They’d treated Ben like another son, and taught him every handy skill he had.

  “Need any help from me decorating the hospital this weekend?”

  Ben shook his head. “Nope. Everything’s been delegated. The guys from Fire Station Nine offered to hang the building lights with the new ladder truck. Mom wrangled donations of foil to wrap all the doors in the pediatric wing, and her friends from the Senior Circle are doing that on Monday. And Ashley is handling the judging of the annual Carolina’s Best Flour Extreme Gingerbread Bake-off this year.”

  “I saw the article in the Crystal Falls Courier this morning announcing all the entrants. I bet your mom was glad you weren’t judging it this year, so you could help her again.”

  “Yeah, well, she did win last time I helped.”

  “No surprise. That extreme gingerbread mansion with Santa and his reindeer flying over those three-story houses was mind-boggling. Never forget when you came in here to buy a new drill and dowels because you were making a cake. I was going to take your man card.”

  “That was a cool cake. Wait until you see this year’s creation. I found an old record player at an estate sale last month. I plan to put that turntable to good use on our part of our entry. On a timer. Top of the hour, every hour. Like feeding time at the zoo.”

  “You’re crazy, but I have no doubt it will be amazing. I’ll have to take the kids over to see it and cast my vote for you,” Jason said.

  “Don’t promise your votes until you’ve seen them all. The theme is ‘Country Christmas.’ It just might be the best year yet.”

  Jason shrugged. “I honestly don’t know where you find the time.”

  “Being single doesn’t hurt.” Jason had his hands full with a wife, and three kids all under the age of six. Then again, having someone to help wouldn’t be bad now and then either. When those kids were older, Ben would be the one wishing he had all those handy helpers. “I’m almost afraid to admit it, but my life is going amazingly smooth.”

  “Don’t say that out loud. You’ll jinx your good luck and everything will crash and burn.”

  Ben knocked twice on the solid wood counter, just in case. “I take it back.”

  “You putting the lights up at your house this weekend?”

  “I could use a hand with that. It’s a two-person job, that’s for sure.” Ben’s historic three-story home boasted fine trim work that he had spent over two years repairing, even having new pieces recast to match the original. His house had once been known as one of the most palatial homes in three counties. One day she’d shine like that again. Unfortunately, the house had lost most of her charm sitting empty for years, deteriorating.

  “It’ll take all day to get that many lights up. It’s a ton of work to do just for less than a month of dazzling display.”

  “And bragging rights.”

  “Well, there is that.” Seeing families cruise by all month, knowing the kids had their faces pressed against the car windows in awe, made the effort totally worth it. “I’m not really complaining. You know how much I love Christmas.”

  “More than anyone I know. If we get an early start, maybe we can get it knocked out tomorrow and then you can help me drywall Ol’ Lady Watson’s house on Sunday.”

  “Sure thing.” Ben had almost forgotten that the poor widow had accidentally burned down half her kitchen in a chicken-frying incident last month. She couldn’t afford to repair it, so the locals pulled together to raise the money for the supplies. Jason and Ben had offered their labor for free to get her place back in shipshape before Christmas.

  “If we start at seven on Sunday, then we can be done before the football game starts. I’ve got some guys ready to come do the mudding on Monday,” Jason said.

  “Like you’re going to be up at seven on a weekend? Who are you fooling, but the Panthers play the Steelers, so let’s put the stuff in my truck while I’m here. That way I can guarantee at least one of us will get an early start.”

  “You i
nsinuating something?”

  “Early to you and early to me are like two different time zones.” Ben followed Jason to the back of the store. Jason already had a pushcart full of supplies marked for the Watson project.

  “So I’m a night owl. That’s why I open the store at nine thirty instead of seven like Gramps used to,” Jason said. “I stay open later when more people have time to stop in.” He lifted a finger to his temple. “Got to work smarter these days.”

  “Or you just didn’t want to get up early.”

  “True. Especially when Gramps quit coming in and I couldn’t afford to replace him. Seems like every year I have to figure out new ways to do more with less.”

  “Who are you telling? My staff at the hospital is half what it was last year. I mean, it made sense—administration isn’t nearly so important in a hospital in the scheme of things—but it sure hasn’t been easy. I thought we could get a lot of the same things done with the help of volunteers, but everybody is stretched everywhere. It’s an ongoing challenge.”

  “At least you found a way to keep the hospital here in Crystal Falls. The way they were talking there for a while, I was afraid they were going to close it down for good. Driving sixty miles just to get stitches would’ve been crazy.”

  “I was worried about that too.” Ben still felt the churn from that ordeal. It had been no easy task to find a way to make things work for everyone.

  “Then again, if that had happened, you and I could be flipping houses together for a living, and taking three months off a year.” Before Jason inherited the hardware store from his grandfather five years earlier, he and Ben had flipped a half dozen houses in their spare time. They’d each made enough profit to purchase homes and renovate them themselves with hardly any mortgage.

  Those house-flipping days were over. Dad had been adamant that Ben go away to college, and since he’d inherited Dad’s head for numbers, the accounting and business degree was a natural path. He’d been at the right place with the right degree when the accounting position became open at Bridgewater Regional, and he stepped into that job and moved up quickly.

  Jason pushed a cart toward the front of the store, one wheel wobbling and clanking like an old freight train.

  Ben held the door and then helped Jason unload an air compressor, drills, boxes of drywall screws, a pair of drywall stilts, and other materials into the back of his truck.

  Ben climbed into his truck, then pulled away from the curb. In the short time he’d been in the store, the barbershop had wrapped the blue stripe of its spinning barber pole in red and green, and a Christmas tree sparkled with scissors and silver combs hanging from the branches in the front window.

  The town’s cherry picker was parked on the side of the street. Two men dressed in hard hats and blaze orange safety vests hung a MERRY CHRISTMAS flag from a lamppost. Giant lighted snowflake sculptures were being strung between every other pole down the street. If snowflakes that big ever fell in Crystal Falls, the town would surely shut down. There wasn’t much chance of that today, though, not with it being an unseasonably warm sixty degrees.

  Then again, this town had a way of building things up. Even the town name was an exaggeration, the “falls” being no more than slightly unimpressive rapids at the river.

  Being the first Thursday in December, it was no surprise to see every merchant in the five-block town square busy decorating for Christmas. It wasn’t an official law, but one that everyone abided by. He didn’t mind helping enforce it, Christmas being his favorite holiday and all. Ever since the year he’d played one of the Three Wise Men in the church play on Christmas Eve, only to be rewarded with the clear-as-a-bell sound of hooves on the roof. He’d lain there, afraid to open his eyes. Wanting so badly to see Santa himself.

  Even right now, he could feel that rush of excitement he’d felt as a boy that night. Lying as still as he could, hoping Santa wouldn’t realize he was awake, and his heart pounding so fast and hard that he was certain the jolly old man was going to know.

  Years later, Dad had held the ladder as Ben climbed to the roof, clomping a hiking boot just above the gutter to give the kids who lived next door a magical night even though their own father, who was in the military, had been shipped out to a country they’d never heard of.

  If there was one thing that could be said for Crystal Falls, it was that the town had a firm grasp on tradition. A local could guess the date by the activities and events going on. Each holiday throughout the year was clearly defined. No overlap. No siree. Halloween wouldn’t overlap Thanksgiving, and nary a speck of red and green would appear until those leftovers were pretty well gone on the first of December.

  Only once did anyone break that tradition. A new merchant. Two years ago. The locals had quickly schooled him, though. In a nice way, of course, helping him take down the decorations, but also helping him put them up again in December.

  Old-fashioned? Maybe. But the traditions were what made Crystal Falls special. There’d never been a doubt in Ben’s mind that he’d live and raise his family here in this town someday.

  Chapter Three

  Joy tossed the tickets to Margie’s children’s Christmas pageant on her desk. Two hundred was a small price to pay if it helped her land her dream job. Margie notwithstanding, MacDonald-Webber was a great place to work, and Joy loved being responsible for the data that allowed her to follow and forecast marketplace and sales trends.

  A tingle of excitement coursed through her as she pulled her things together. She couldn’t wait to give that update at Wetherton’s this afternoon. It was true those corporate bigwigs couldn’t care less about the R-value and other statistics, but, boy, did they love it when she broke down what all that meant into simple English. And that put a smile on her face.

  With her attitude readjusted, she focused on her customer. Wetherton’s deserved her best, and it would get her best.

  With the latest stats from its project plan tucked inside her leather tote along with her laptop, she was ready to leave when Renee poked her head in Joy’s cube.

  “I see the coast is clear,” Renee said.

  “No thanks to you,” Joy said with a playful glare.

  “Ready for that early lunch?” Renee hugged her purse to her side.

  “Change of plans.”

  Renee slumped.

  “Just a detour, though. First stop, Wetherton’s, to cover a meeting for Margie.”

  Renee’s face lit up. “That’s great!”

  “I know.” Joy patted her briefcase. This kind of last-minute opportunity was exactly why she was so crazy about making sure all the data and analyses were always in ready-to-report shape. “Plus, the alterations are finished on my dress for the gala. I can pick it up while I’m there. The timing really couldn’t have been more perfect.”

  Renee straightened to her full five-seven in flats. “You bought a dress at Wetherton’s and didn’t tell me?”

  Joy almost regretted mentioning it. “I hope the Christmas bonus covers the splurge. It’s my present to myself. The meeting shouldn’t take long. Then we can do lunch like we’d planned.”

  “Please tell me we have time to try on dresses while we’re there.”

  Joy stood, always feeling short next to Renee, even in her high heels. “You will have plenty of time while I’m in the meeting.”

  “Perfect. If only I could afford something from there. Even window-shopping is a treat at Wetherton’s. I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” Renee said.

  “Let’s go, then,” Joy said. “When I’m done with the executives, I’ll meet you on the fourth floor.”

  * * *

  Joy pulled her red Prius right up to the curb to drop Renee off in front of the grand entrance of Wetherton’s. The stately limestone architecture of the eight-story building had taken up the high-traffic corner since the 1940s, and it was still stunning in contrast with the modern buildings in the surrounding area. “I’ll meet you as soon as I’m done.”

  “Seriously, take a
ll the time you want. I’ll be in heaven.” Renee stepped out of the car and headed inside.

  Joy pulled away from the curb and drove around to the east side of the building. Using her temporary parking pass, she swiped it at the gate and then parked near the private elevator to the administrative floors of the building. There were no longer many stand-alone stores of this size, but then Wetherton’s wasn’t just any store. It advertised and delivered a high-end shopping experience. From the doorman to the elevator assistants and the high-fashion salespeople who greeted every customer by name if they’d ever shopped there before, Wetherton’s delivered a one-of-a-kind experience.

  Joy took the elevator up, then stepped through the ornate wooden double doors onto the executive floor. The opulent surroundings of Wetherton’s flagship store always gave her goose bumps. It was like stepping into another time, and today was beyond important.

  Carols filled the air, and a decked-out tree, complete with an angel on top, filled an entire corner of the waiting area. Wetherton’s proudly displayed decorations throughout all its stores. No amount of outside pressure had changed its Christmas traditions. Poppy Wetherton’s touch for sure. Under her leadership, the upscale retailer had become known as the elite place to shop soon after Poppy had taken the reins from her father, the business’s founder. She didn’t care if she offended anyone with her Christian beliefs or traditions. And somehow her making no apologies seemed to make it more acceptable. Joy admired the fearless businesswoman for her tremendous accomplishments.

  Joy rubbed her hands together, trying to expend some nervous energy. She’d made presentations like this hundreds of times, but now she was among the best of the best at Wetherton’s. Customer-facing opportunities like this were her chance to shine. She’d worked hard to ensure this project was perfect. Her heart raced just thinking about the possibility of presenting to Poppy Wetherton.