Hope For The Holidays Read online

  Two

  Bright and early Saturday morning, Hope finished shoveling the heavily packed snow the plow left at the end of the driveway. She wished she knew a tactful way to give her new neighbor permission to use his snow blower on her half. Fear of rejection stilled her tongue. How embarrassing if Joshua refused, and though she regretted how rude she was on their first meeting, she couldn’t apologize at this late date. She barely entered the house before the phone rang. “It’s Joshua.” “How did you get my number? It’s unlisted.” He cleared his throat, as in an unspoken, ‘I’ll never tell’. “Listen, I have a new case, and my sister just went into labor. Any chance you could sit with Kimmie for an hour or two?” She had planned to hit the mall this morning before it got too crowded, then dust and vacuum this afternoon. With Christmas only three weeks away, stores were already marking items down and Hope hoped to take advantage of the sales to supplement her wardrobe. If Joshua returned within an hour of two, she could still meet her schedule and accomplish her tasks for the day. “I... suppose.” “You’re a life saver. You want my place or yours?” No way did she want the girl in her home, questioning her every possession and leaving memories behind. “She’ll probably be more settled in your place, if you don’t mind my being there.” “Of course I don’t mind, or I wouldn’t have asked you. How soon can you come over? No hurry, though.” “Ten minutes?” “Perfect. See you then.” Hope changed from soggy sweats into comfortable jeans and a soft sweater and gathered a stack of reports from work she’d planned to wade through this weekend. She’d have plenty of time to study them while Kimmie watched TV. Well within the ten-minute limit, Hope rang the doorbell at the Michaels front door. She heard Kimmie’s excited reaction immediately. “Daddy, she’s here! Come open the door!” Poor little tyke probably couldn’t reach the deadbolt, or had strict rules never to open the door to anyone. Joshua never said what part of town his fabulous house had been located. She suspected it was somewhere on the lake, or in one the prestigious subdivisions on a golf course. Some of the higher end properties were gated communities, and residents were always security conscious. She’d been the same when she lived in Chicago, but that was a whole different lifestyle than the one she presently lived. Joshua looked her up and down once he hung her parka in the foyer closet. “You look nice.” “It’s just jeans.” “You still look good. You’re glowing.” She blushed. How long had it been since she’d received a compliment? “Must be from shoveling.” “I meant to tell you, I’ll take care of that for you. Only takes a couple minutes with the blower. Just in case you feel compelled to refuse my offer, consider it an even exchange for helping me out with watching Kimmie.” She nodded, but would have refused if he hadn’t included the disclaimer. “Come see Kimmie. She’s got all sorts of fun things planned.” She’d half-hoped she’d be glued to Saturday morning cartoons on TV. “I saw the snowman out front.” As they talked he led her past the stairway and into the great room. She didn’t have time to absorb all the impressions, plush brown leather sectional, bookcases framing the fireplace. Dramatic paintings already adorned the walls, though they’d moved in only two days ago. “I haven’t unpacked the books and the clutter yet.” She chuckled at his description. “I expected your place to be the mirror image of mine, but the way it’s furnished, it looks like a whole different floor plan.” It looked so warm, Hope’s décor seemed sterile in comparison. “Nothing wrong with that.” “Where’s your daughter?” “Umm... I don’t know. She was on the floor watching TV when you got here.” “Shy?” She hadn’t seemed so when she tried to introduce herself the other day. “Not usually.” Joshua strode across the room, into the dining room and around the corner into the kitchen. A sinking feeling hit her stomach. The day they’d met, she’d scared the girl with her grumpy attitude. She heard Joshua pound up the stairway, calling his daughter. Minutes later, he was back. “She has to be inside. I’ll check the basement.” Joshua made good his intentions. “Kimberly Megan Michaels! This is not funny anymore. I need to get to work.” A soft, rustling sound alerted Hope to a presence. She crept across the carpeting, knelt on the sofa and peered over the back. There in the corner, huddled the child. Hope eased back off the leather sofa and headed across the room to the foyer. “No sense in my sticking around if I’m not needed.” Was that a giggle she heard? She opened the door and shut it again, then tiptoed to the staircase and sat down on one of the steps halfway up, close to the wall. “Hey, wait! Don’t go!” She came into the foyer the same time Joshua slammed the door from the basement and strode in. “Where the devil is that child?” “I didn’t mean for her to leave!” the girl cried. “I was just playing a joke.” “Not funny, Sunshine. I have to get into work. Now where’s Hope?” Father and daughter noticed her at the same time. “What are you doing up there?” “Playing a waiting game. It worked.” She rose and walked back down the stairs. “I have absolutely no idea what’s going on, and I don’t have time to figure it out. Missy, we’ll talk when I get back. Behave yourself for Miss Hope. You hear?” Kimmie marched back into the great room and sat down on the sofa. She mumbled something incoherent. “I said, do you hear?” “I hear!” Joshua surprised Hope by walking over to his daughter and kissing her on the forehead. “If we get some boxes unpacked this afternoon, and if you’re good, we’ll go Christmas shopping later.” Kimmie shrugged. Joshua shook his head and turned to leave. “Sorry about that.” He opened the closet and drew on the black leather jacket. Hope longed to touch the rich leather. She sighed, wishing for something...elusive... Once Joshua left, she heaved a big sigh and joined the child in the living room. “Well, Kimmie, what would you like to do this morning?” “Nothing.” “Okay by me. I brought paperwork along.” She retrieved the briefcase she’d propped on the stairs, and joined her on the sofa. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl sneak glances at her from time to time. “Something wrong?” She glared at her. “You got me in trouble.” “I didn’t hide from your father. That was all your doing.” She sounded cruel, even to her own mind. “Your dad seems like a reasonable man to me. I doubt he carries a grudge over a cry for— I mean, a little joke. He was just in a hurry to get to work.” “You think?” “I don’t know him very well, but I’m pretty sure. I don’t think he’ll ground you, or anything.” “Whew.” She suppressed a smile and went back to her report. For several minutes they concentrated on their own interests. She narrowed her brow at a particularly confusing passage, going over the point again, and then a third time. She was just on the verge of understanding when Kimmie cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to call you.” She looked down on him, striving not to be annoyed for the interruption. “Ma’am is proper, or Ms. Hardcastle.” She stared at her as if she were alien. “You’re right. That’s a mouthful for a four-year-old. How ‘bout Miss Hope, like your dad called me?” “That might work.” She nodded and returned her attention to the TV. Hope went back to the previous paragraph, only to find it just as confusing as before. Something wasn’t right. She concentrated hard, seeking to understand the point of this memo. According to this report, the instructions for identifying borderline risk seemed to err toward the company. This was counter to the Procedure Manual, where there was a definite line between good and bad credit. “Miss Hope?” She shook her head, begging without words for more time to digest the information. “Just a minute, Kimmie.” “Never mind.” “No, it’s all right. I’m done. What would you like to do?” “Can you cook?” “Some. I don’t cook much anymore. Nothing fancy anyway.” “Are cookies fancy?” “Seems to me, your dad already baked Christmas cookies. He brought a tray over to me the other day.” “Oh, that’s where they all went. He took this huge tray to Tiny Tykes, too, and another to Aunt Julie, and another to his work.” How sweet of Joshua to make the gesture. “All the good ones are gone already.” Kimmie complained. “You know, chocolate chip and peanut butter and sugar cookies...” “All that sugar will rot your teeth, you know.” “Not if I brush real good. So, can you?” “Can I make more cookies? It depends
on whether your dad has enough ingredients left. Let’s go see what’s in the cabinet. Any special kind you want?” “Every kind you can make. But only the good kinds.” She chuckled, suddenly nostalgic. She remembered icy cold days in Chicago, cooking and baking early in her marriage, only to have Mark chide her for tempting him with sweets. And meaning it. And dumping the sweets in the garbage because she’d put on a couple of pounds. Even after Casey was born—No, she couldn’t think of that. Taking a deep breath, she opened the top cabinet, found flour and sugar, salt, baking soda and powder and everything else required to make cookies. “So, which is your favorite? Chocolate chip or peanut butter?” She scrunched one eye closed, thinking hard. “Both,” she decided. “We’ll see how far we get before your dad comes home.” “Can’t Daddy help after he gets home?” “Sure, he can take over.” “What about you?” “We’ll see how long he’s gone. I planned to go to the mall today.” “That’s where we’re going! You can come with us!” “I don’t think so.” “Why not?” She tipped her head and frowned. “Don’t you like us?” How could she say she dare not like her? She’d end up losing her, like everyone else she’d ever loved. “Of course I like you. It’s just a busy time of year and I have a lot to do this weekend.” “Us, too.” As much as Hope wanted to keep her distance, she couldn’t ignore Kimmie’s enthusiasm, the simple pleasure of a child’s enjoyment with life. It hurt to witness it, to remember the good times with her daughter, although she’d only had her daughter for two years. Unshed tears burned her eyes, and she bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up utensils as they were used, wiping counters while she allowed the girl to mix the dough and drop spoonfuls onto cookie sheets. Memories haunted her. “Miss Hope?” she asked. “These are all ready.” Hope resisted the urge to adjust the size of the mounds. Some were as big as the girl’s fist, others more like marbles. They wouldn’t cook evenly, but she helped her slide the pans into the oven anyway. She’d watch them and pull whatever cooked first—or save some of the bigger cookies for cookie dough with ice cream. “This is fun,” she said. “I like cooking with you.” “I’m glad.” She didn’t declare that she liked cooking with her, too. It would have been half a lie, only because it brought back painful memories. “You know, at first I thought your name fits,” she said. “You know—hard like in Hardcastle? I thought you were hard. And castle, like you have a do-not-touch-anything sign around you, like a moat around a castle... like Dad said. But he said maybe you’re afraid to like people and want to make them go away.” How perceptive for a four-year-old, even with her father’s help. “Apparently something changed your mind.” “Well, yeah! You bake good cookies.” “The way to a girl’s heart,” Joshua said, startling Hope and his daughter. Hope blushed, wondering if he’d heard Kimmie sharing her dad’s comments about her name. “You haven’t tried my cookies yet.” She hid the warm feeling his presence caused. “They might be hard as a rock.” “I’ll take my chances. What do you say, Kimmie? Should we clean up the kitchen while the cookies are baking?” “Good idea,” Hope agreed. “I’ll help, but then I need to tackle my chores for the day.” “You have chores?” the little girl asked. “Doesn’t everyone? Do you like to wash or wipe?” “Wash!” She should have known. Standing on a stool in front of the sink, she played in the water. Hope rinsed and dried the few utensils and bowls they’d used while Joshua wiped the counters. He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned around her to reach one sticky spot, and she stiffened and closed her eyes at the longing that washed over her. Her temperature must have risen twenty degrees in mere seconds. Joshua didn’t seem to notice, but even when he moved away, the heat of his hand on her back scorched her skin. The timer rang, and she shook off Joshua’s spell. “Do you want to take a look, Kimmie?” “Sure!” With an oven mitt, she slid the tray out of the oven and set it on a cooling rack. Kimmie pushed her stool to the center island, and donning oven mitts, she picked out the baked goodies, probably half the tray. Hope put the rest back into the oven to finish. “Nice job.” Joshua commented. “How did she bribe you into kitchen duty?” “I always enjoyed making cookies with my—” Appalled with the words coming out of her mouth, she turned away, busying herself with putting away the bowls and utensils they’d just washed. “Excuse me? With whom?” She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. She sensed his curiosity, but he was sensitive enough to let the subject drop. That surprised her. She expected the lawyer in him to possess the tenacity of a bulldog. “So Kimmie, what’s on the docket for today?” he asked. “We need to buy a tree,” Kimmie complained. “We need to unpack first,” Joshua said. “I’ll never find the ornaments.” “We need to visit Santa.” “I need to shop,” Joshua said. “We need to decorate the tree.” “We don’t have one yet to decorate. We need to wrap presents, if I ever get around to shopping. We need to plan the open house. And get groceries. We need more than twenty-one days to get everything done.” “Enjoying the season, are you?” Hope cut in. “Any wonder that I skip the whole guilt trip and do nothing?” “Not even a tree?” Kimmie asked. For a four-year-old, she was quick to catch on. “You’re not serious!” Apparently, dad and daughter thought alike, unlike Hope. “I’m going to the mall. Don’t forget to take the rest of the cookies out of the oven.”

  Three

  Hope tightened both electrodes for the battery and lowered the hood. She slid into the driver’s seat, hit the garage door opener, checked that she’d left her purse on the passenger’s seat, inserted the key and turned it. Instead of the steady hum of the car starting, there was silence. “What the devil?” She switched the key again, and again nothing happened. Maybe she had the poles reversed. She popped the hood release and slipped out of the car. Everything looked right. She detached and reattached both sides, cursing when the car failed to start once again. Joshua appeared at the car door. “Problems?” “It won’t start,” she complained. “Do you have a battery charger?” “I meant to buy one...” “I have jumper cables—packed somewhere. Where do you need to go?” “Nowhere, really. I was just headed to the mall to check out the sales.” “In that case, come with us. That’s where we’re headed.” “It’s nothing I have to do today. I just meant to look for bargains. I can catch the bus.” “Let me see if I can find my battery charger, and we can charge it for you while we’re at the mall.” He gave her no choice and before knowing quite why or how, she was in the front seat beside Joshua, his daughter strapped into the car seat in the back. Parking was challenging, even mid-morning, so Joshua dropped Hope and Kimmie at the mall entrance, then grabbed a close spot when someone pulled out. “Lucky you,” she said. “You‘re good luck.” He tapped her nose with a finger. She blinked several times in surprise. Nobody ever tapped her nose. “Hey,” Kimmie protested. “I thought I was good luck.” “You sure are, Sunshine. It’s nice to have double good luck for a change. Now, we need Nanna and Grandpa Cappie and Aunt Julie and Uncle Paul and Paul, Junior and Christopher, and the new baby who isn’t born yet, and your teachers at Tiny Tykes and who else?” “Kelly from Tiny Tykes and what about Grandma and Granddad?” “Of course,” Joshua said, but his look was pained, as if he’d forgotten someone important. “They’re on my list.” Hope assumed it was his in-laws. They walked through the food court on the way to the mall area, where Kimmie could meet Santa. “Are they local, your in-laws?” “Northern Wisconsin—about four hours away.” “So they don’t see much of Kimmie. Are they okay, I mean... dealing with their grief?” “They blame me.” He shook his head, lowering his voice, probably so little ears didn’t overhear. “They need to blame someone, and I have wide shoulders.” “Sorry. You have enough problems. You don’t need a guilt trip on top of it all.” “Like I said... Here we go, honey. You wanted a picture with Santa. Only one hour wait. I’ll give you five bucks if you postpone seeing Santa until the Tiny Tykes program next Sunday night.” She shook her head. “I have to see Santa before he gets too busy. He might forget me.” Joshua screwed up his face. “Going... going...” “Deal! Where’s my five dollars?” “Can I owe yo
u?” She giggled. “No!” Joshua slipped his wallet from his back pocket and peeled off a fiver. The girl grinned. “Easiest five dollars I ever made.” Hope slid her a side glance. “You’re too young to be so deceptive.” “I don’t know what that word means, so I must be innocent,” she said, looking just like her dad. “Yeah, like I believe you.” She wanted to chide Joshua for being too generous, pointing out that Kimmie would never value money when she earned it dishonestly, but the words wouldn’t come. Both needed a break from responsibilities and burdens and hard knocks. Maybe both needed a hiatus from reality. She shook her head. “Should we split up? Meet you here at noon?” “If you want. We can just wander around together, too. There’s plenty of time for shopping before Christmas. It’s what—three weeks away?” “Like you said, twenty-one days.” All the time he talked, he steered her toward the nearby department store entrance. “Hey, Sunshine, what kind of perfume should we buy the grandmothers?” “Ask Miss Hope.” “Good idea. What’s ‘in’ this year, Miss Hope?” When was the last time someone had given her perfume? Three years? Four? She shook her head, determined to belay any sad thoughts. “I don’t pay attention to what’s popular. You’d best ask a clerk.” “Why don’t they have one counter for all the perfumes instead of a separate area for every different kind?” Kimmie wanted to know. “They do. It’s called a drugstore,” she suggested. “Let’s not get smart,” Joshua said, steering her to a classic designer. “I’m trying to school her in the finer things in life.” Hope wandered away from the counter while Joshua and Kimmie consulted with the specialist. She stopped at a round table displaying a special; sparkling bracelets in a variety of stones, marked down to $19.99. She wished she could buy one for each of her clerks. They deserved something nice. The last few years she’d ordered pocket planners for everyone, and they seemed to appreciate the thought. They all used them, but it was getting to be a standing joke because her regional supervisor authorized Hope to spend $9.99 per person. Even if her supervisor had authorized am extra penny, it wouldn’t have seemed so cheap. They’d had a good year though. Maybe Hope could justify spending twice the cost. The staff deserved some recognition for their hard work. There would be more sales before Christmas, though, and she’d need authorization before she could spend the money. She wished she could afford to take it out of her own pocket. Joshua was still in deep discussion with the consultant behind the perfume counter, and she couldn’t put it off forever. “I’ll be at the jewelry counter.” It probably wasn’t intentional, but he scanned her hands and neck, devoid of jewelry. He didn’t miss much. He obviously wondered why she’d be interested in jewelry. It was none of his business. She knew exactly what she wanted and where to find it. She went directly to the display of gold charms, pointing to the gold ballet slippers and drawing the bracelet from her purse to have the charm mounted. She’d started the charm bracelet when her daughter was born, and though her daughter would never see it, Hope added a charm every birthday and Christmas. She chose something appropriate for whatever interest she imagined her daughter would be into at that age. Surely at age five, she’d be flexible enough to begin ballet. Every time Hope added a charm, she packaged the red velvet jewelry case in pretty paper and ribbon, and sent it in the mail. It always came back a week or two later, and she put it away in her top drawer with her own meager collection of jewelry. “What’d you get?” Kimmie’s question startled her. She hadn’t noticed Joshua and his daughter approaching as the clerk handed over the case. “Can I see?” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter and drew the case out of the bag. Kimmie oh-ed and awed over the shiny bracelet. “Who’s it for?” Hope drew in a deep breath. “A little girl I once knew.” “What’s her name? Where does she live? Who is she?” Hope cringed under the girl’s bombardment and Joshua seemed to sense it was a delicate subject. “Hey, Sunshine, take it easy on Miss Hope. What do you have in mind for your teacher at Tiny Tykes?” “A diamond bracelet. She’s very nice to me.” Hope hid a smile. “I saw some boxed bracelets down the aisle. They aren’t diamonds, but they look like a good buy.” She caught Joshua’s eye. “Teaching her the finer things in life, are ya?” They shared a chuckle. “How ‘bout Kelly?” Joshua asked Hope. Kimmie jumped in. “Barbie’s Dreamhouse. Or accessories.” “Good idea. So the mall isn’t necessarily the best place to tackle Kelly’s gift. We can hit ToysRUs tomorrow.” “Or Walmart,” she suggested. “I don’t suppose...” “No. I can’t stay with Kimmie. I have plans.” “Hey, you can go to church with us tomorrow!” Kimmie said. “Thanks, but no. I don’t go to church.” “How do you get away with that?” She noticed Joshua raise his eyebrows, probably a signal to Kimmie to back off. She offered no explanation, nor did she feel she owed them one. “I’ll spring for lunch at the food court,” Joshua offered. “What does everyone want?”