Home For Christmas

He walked out to the front porch to check the mail he’d forgotten earlier. He shuffled through the utility bills, then pulled out an envelope with a familiar return address. It was the company that bought his wind turbine invention. His smile was broad. “Thank goodness for royalty checks.”

Back inside, he went to his computer and pulled up his email.

Adam worked freelance for Jacobson Corporation out of Indianapolis. The pay was satisfactory, but it was his private, solely-owned creative patents that he hoped would one day boost his income. The best part was that he only had bimonthly trips to Indianapolis, and his weekly meetings with think-tank managers and engineering interns were via Skype and phone conferences. Adam had made it clear that Titus was his priority. Adam was an asset to any firm and Jacobson knew it. Adam worked at night on the computer and held conferences in the early morning with his team.

Scanning the emails, he replied to his team and then saw the one he’d been waiting for. “Halstead.”

Halstead Industries had finally replied to the proposal and project renderings he’d presented to them in California in October. Adam’s engineering genius had flourished at Purdue. He’d made good money over the years, and his works-in-progress would bring even more. His future was financially stable. Titus’s college fund was solid. Sometimes, it seemed as if his high school days had happened to someone else.

“In more ways than one…”

He didn’t share his successes with others. He didn’t like to brag, and creative ideas were easily stolen. Not until his patents were secure, the contracts signed and executed, would Adam talk even to Frank or Mrs. Beabots about his work.

It’s better that way, he thought. Keeping distance was his operative.

He opened the email as he heard Angel walking down the hall—his sign that Titus was sound asleep. Next to his desk was a new red-and-black-plaid doggy bed, which she curled up on.

“Look at that, Angel. I finally sold my wind turbine. Wait till my patent comes through on the geothermal unit. Not to mention a few other propulsion irons I have in the fire.” The latter ideas for antigravity drapes and futuristic propulsion had been pipe dreams decades ago, but now he was being taken seriously.

Angel yawned.

“You’ll see. It’ll be thrilling.”

Angel closed her eyes.

“Okay. Not so thrilling for you. But for a guy who never had much, this is a victory. I should celebrate.”

Angel didn’t stir as Adam went to the kitchen and took out a bottle of beer from the Sub-Zero.

“Now, where did I put that opener?” He opened the utility drawer where he kept spatulas and spoons, then went back to the desk in the living room. He dug around a few drawers, moving papers and old birthday cards. “Where is it?”

In frustration, he started pulling papers out of the far-left drawer. In the bottom, he found an old photo album, one he hadn’t seen since he’d moved back from Cincinnati. “Aw, jeez.”

The first photo had been taken well over ten years ago in the greenhouse. It was Christmas. He and Joy were surrounded by red poinsettias. Joy’s head was on his shoulder, his arm around her waist. What captured his attention was the look of love and contentment on both their faces.

So long ago.

He glanced at the album photos of Amie. They’d been happy and thrilled about Titus. But the truth was that, initially, Amie had kept her illness from Adam and he’d never quite forgiven her. His feelings for Amie were different from the love he’d once had for Joy. Back then, Joy had lived up to her name. She’d lit up the world for him. And when he’d kissed her, he’d felt as if he were connected to the moon, the stars, the entire universe.

He raked a hand through his hair. He’d been hard on her today. He realized now that she was mirroring all the confusion and pain he’d felt when Amie had finally told him the truth about her leukemia. He’d felt lost. And betrayed.

Adam loved Frank. The old man had been his friend and mentor. But there had been times when he’d counseled Frank to tell Joy the truth, and Frank wouldn’t do it, because of his pride.

It was a wasteful thing. It kept people from doing the one thing they should do. Love.

Adam opened the middle drawer and put the old photo album on top of the sheaf of papers. As he withdrew his hand he felt the bottle opener.

He opened the bottle and tipped it toward the photo album. “You were such a nerd, Adam. With no guts.”

He took a deep swig. “And no glory.”

Angel lifted her head and gave a low snuffle.

“Oh, you think so, too, huh?”

She snuffled again.

“Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He sat in the desk chair and stared at the photo. “But that was then. What do I do about now?”

He closed the album and eased the drawer shut.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JOY LOOKED UP at the old rooster-shaped clock that hung against the kitchen wallpaper that had been put up before her birth. Her father often joked that he’d hated the wallpaper when his mother had chosen it. Joy didn’t think it was all that bad with its depictions of antique coffee grinders and coffee cups and saucers. It was homey. It was Grandpa’s house, where her father had grown up. Because Frank had purchased a large section of land after the war, there was enough acreage for Bruce and Jill to build their own house on shortly after their wedding. As a child, Joy always felt she lived in both houses.

The light wood cabinets were just as old, and they needed to be replaced as much as the wallpaper and vinyl flooring. The Formica-topped kitchen table set should have been tossed years ago, but Joy knew that her grandfather put his money into the greenhouses. Not into personal comforts.

Her cell rang, breaking her thoughts. “Hi, Chuck.”

“So, how goes it?”

“What part?” she asked, as she opened the cabinet over the old electric stove and pulled down a box of crackers. Then she went to the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen and opened it. It was as it had always been. Peanut butter. New jar of grape jelly. Sack of potato chips. And a brand-new bag of chocolate candies.

Some things never changed. Blessedly.

“All of it. I tried to call you earlier, but I guess you were busy.”

“I have been. I spent the afternoon on the phone planning the funeral and the luncheon at the house here afterward. It’s tomorrow, so that was fast work.”

“All funerals are… At least my mother’s was.”

“I’m sorry, Chuck. All this probably brings back sad times for you, too.”

“It does, but don’t worry about me. What did the attorney say?” He sounded rushed. “You’re going to sell the greenhouses and the house, right?”

Joy was about to respond when she heard his office phone ringing. “You’re still at the office?”

“Yeah. Dad and I are working late. Listen, I gotta take this. I’ll call you tomorrow. Can’t wait till you get back and we can have Thanksgiving together. Love ya.”

Thinking back to this afternoon and the heat of Adam’s anger, she realized she might be doing Chuck an injustice. Sure, he wasn’t all that romantic, but he was there for her. He’d called to check on her. He would call tomorrow after the funeral. She could count on him.

She picked up the peanut butter jar and noticed it was organic, low sugar. She found a knife and sat at the table to eat crackers and peanut butter. It wasn’t cracked crab or medallions of beef like she’d have with Chuck. The clock ticked loudly. She got up and went to the thirty-year-old side-by-side harvest-gold refrigerator and found a carton of milk.

“Organic.”

She glanced at the table, at the chair where her grandfather always sat. She half expected to hear him say, “I love you, pumpkin. Don’t ever forget it.”

JOY GUESSED THAT as far as funerals went, her grandfather’s was well attended. Father Michael’s eulogy revealed his deep friendship with her grandfather. Joy had written a short piece, but when she got to the pulpit to read it, she spoke from her heart instead, admitting her fault in not returning to Indian Lake to see Frank, remembering how their Thanksgivings in New York were her happiest moments. It was difficult not to tear up, not to lose her words in her chaos of emotions, but she made it through and thanked everyone for being present for Frank. As she walked back to the front pew, she saw many compassionate, familiar faces. Faces she’d forgotten.

Afterward, on her behalf, Father Michael had invited everyone to Frank’s house for a luncheon.

Now they all stood three deep, around the dining room table, admiring the bounty. Joy had covered the table with her mother’s Irish linen cloth. Olivia and Julia Melton had set up the buffet while Joy and the rest of her friends had been at Saint Mark’s. Huge crystal bowls held seafood salad, chicken salad with red grapes and walnuts, a pasta salad and a green salad. A large hammered pewter tray held two large planks of grilled salmon topped with capers and lemon slices. A honey-baked spiral ham and candied yams filled the end of the table. On the sideboard were plates, napkins and silverware.

A second, round table, skirted in white linen, was set up with hot and cold drinks.

Sarah hugged Joy before introducing her husband.

Joy shook his hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Luke. Sarah was such a good friend to me in high school.”

“Then you two should pick up where you left off,” he said, putting his arm around Sarah and kissing her cheek. “Best is the word to describe her.”

Joy watched as Sarah smiled up at Luke. He touched her cheek and kissed her lips. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

Joy got the distinct feeling she was intruding, but as she moved to the drink table for iced tea, she saw Maddie Strong, who had been another close friend in high school. “Maddie? How wonderful to see you!”

Maddie hugged Joy. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances, but I’ve missed you, Joy,” she said, not letting go of Joy’s hand. “So much has happened since you left, but you look like not a day has passed.”

Just then, Dr. Nate Barzonni walked up and slipped his arm around Maddie. “Joy, it’s good to see you,” he said, smiling. “I’m sorry it took this…to bring you back. I have to say, New York looks like it’s working for you.”

“She looks fabulous,” Maddie agreed.

“So do you,” Nate whispered in Maddie’s ear, but it was loud enough for Joy to hear.

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Gabe Barzonni said as he walked up with his wife, Liz, and their three-and-a-half-year-old son, Zeke.

“Look who’s talking.” Maddie chuckled. “You said you were bringing Joy some wine. Where is it? I brought cupcakes for everyone.”

Gabe grinned mischievously and shot his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s in the kitchen. Olivia is uncorking a couple bottles.”

Joy glanced from Nate to Gabe. “So, Gabe, you’re not running the family farm anymore?”

“Nope. I gave it up when I fell hopelessly in love.” He kissed Liz soundly on the mouth.

Liz shook her head and placed her hand on his broad chest. “The truth is, Gabe always wanted to be a vintner. He fell for me and my grapes.”

“Not a chance,” Nate said, butting in. “That’d be like me saying Maddie plied me with cupcakes.”

“Hey!” Maddie retorted. “I did.”

Nate put both his arms around her. “Did not.”

“Did, too.” Maddie laughed and kissed Nate.

Joy excused herself and continued around the table, receiving condolences from Nate and Gabe’s mother, Gina Barzonni. Joy had always liked her when she was in high school. Joy was stunned to discover that Gina had recently married Liz’s grandfather, Sam Crenshaw. She shook hands with Rafe Barzonni, congratulating him on his marriage to Olivia Melton. “She’s amazing, Rafe. She put all this together in one day.”

“And wait till she shows you the photographs. She took photos of your table and the flowers. With your permission, maybe—and she’d do this as a friend. She thinks the world of you, by the way. If you’d want some candid shots of the guests, she’d snap a few. Nothing intrusive. Memories, you know? It’s up to you.”

“Really?”

“She’s gone pro. And been published in a few magazines. I’m really proud of her,” he said, looking from Joy into the kitchen, where pretty Olivia was walking out with a silver tray filled with Maddie’s delicious cupcakes.

“I owe her a great deal for all her help.”

“She was happy to do it for her friend, Joy.”

“Yes, Grandpa was an amazing man.”

He leaned a bit closer and said, “I meant you.”

“Oh.”

As Rafe walked over to his wife, Mrs. Beabots walked in with Adam, who was holding the hand of a little boy.

Mrs. Beabots walked straight up to Joy and hugged her tightly. “Joy, I’m so happy to see you. Though losing Frank is hard for all of us.”

“He was a good friend to you. I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you at the church.”

“I was in the back. I don’t drive anymore, so I must rely on others to cart me around. Though when the weather’s nice, I walk everywhere.”

Mrs. Beabots had always been part of her life in Indian Lake, especially when she was in high school. It was Joy who filled orders for Mrs. Beabots’s fall bulb list. Her Christmas poinsettias and amaryllis. Joy had loved delivering flowers to Mrs. Beabots, who always invited her in for tea or pastries. Or if she got lucky, a piece of sugar pie. Since Sarah lived next door to Mrs. Beabots, she and Maddie would often meet at Sarah’s house and then the three of them would barge into Mrs. Beabots’s kitchen, help her with dishes or put away groceries and be rewarded with something special right out of the oven.

The clutch at Joy’s chest came from too many memories she’d shoved away and tried, successfully for years, to replace with exciting New York.

“Now, Joy. Tomorrow you must come to my house for dinner.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”

“Too bad. You have a great deal to do here,” Mrs. Beabots said.

“How do you know that?”

“You forget my reputation for knowing what’s happening in this town?”

“I did. So, who told?”

“Why, Adam, of course.”

“Figures.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be your attorney. That would be immoral. Or something.” She waved her hand.

Joy couldn’t help but chuckle. “I bet you kept Grandpa on his toes.”

“Frank was a sucker for my peach cobbler. So were you.”

“I was.”

Mrs. Beabots touched Joy’s arm. “I need to check on something in the kitchen. You probably need to see to the rest of your guests.” She winked and looked over at Adam, who was standing near the kitchen doorway.

Just as Mrs. Beabots turned, Joy asked, “Wait, is that—Adam’s son?”

“It is…” Mrs. Beabots walked to the kitchen.

The shocks kept coming. So, Adam was married? Where was his wife? Had they both been at the church? The funeral was already a blur to her. She barely remembered anything.

A pretty woman about Joy’s age with striking aqua eyes came up. “Joy. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Cate Davis. Kyle Evans told me to give you a call, but since I knew Frank so well, I thought this might be better.”

“Cate? The Realtor?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you.”

“Kyle said you were anxious to list the greenhouses.”

“Yeah. I have to get back to New York by Thanksgiving.”

“That’s…only six days away.”

“I know. Is there a lot to do?” Joy asked.

“We’re fine. Tell you what. I’ll meet you there tomorrow morning at, say, nine o’clock? I’ll take some photos, work up some comps. I’ll do my best to get back to you by the end of the day or Sunday afternoon.”

“Gee, I hate to take up your weekend.”

“I’m a Realtor. We’re used to it. And we do have some work to do, this being a commercial property. What about the house here?”

“That, too,” Joy said, feeling a sharp pang through her middle. Now that she’d said it out loud, she suddenly wanted to hang on to the house. But she lived in New York. Her life was in New York. Wasn’t it?

Joy saw Adam now standing at the fireplace in the living room. His son was still by his side. The boy had picked up the fireplace poker. She excused herself from Cate and walked toward Adam, overhearing their conversation.

“What’s this, Dad?”

“Titus, put that down. It’s dangerous.”

“But what’s it for?”

“To move the logs around so air gets to the fire.”

“We don’t have one.”

“We have gas logs. They’re safer.”

“Oh,” Titus said and looked up as Joy smiled at him. “Hello.”

“Hello.” She stretched out her hand. “I’m Joy. What’s your name?”

“Titus Masterson. This is my dad. But I know that you already know him. From high school,” Titus said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiling broadly.

“Titus…” Adam used that same warning tone he’d used with Joy.

“Thank you for coming, Adam,” Joy said. “I’m sure Frank would appreciate it.”

“I’m sure he would.”

Titus rocked back on his heels and tugged on his blue blazer. “We were good friends with Mr. Boston. He let me eat peanut butter and crackers in the kitchen.”

“He did?” Adam and Joy chorused.

“Uh-huh. And grape jelly.”

“I suppose the milk was for you, too?” Joy asked.

“Yep. Organic.”

Joy smiled. “I can see why my grandpa liked you, Titus. You’re quite the charmer.”

“Thanks.” Titus grinned.

Joy looked back to the kitchen. “Is your mother coming to the luncheon?” she asked.

“No,” Adam replied sharply.

“She died. She’s in heaven with Mr. Boston,” Titus said matter-of-factly. “When I die I get to see them both.”

Adam put his hand on Titus’s shoulder. “That’s right.”

Joy knew she was blushing with shame. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Adam said, not to Joy but to Titus, who was looking up at him. “It’s been three years since Amie died. Titus and I are doing better.”

“That’s right, Dad. We are.” Titus looked at Joy. “So, is it okay if I have a cupcake?”

“You can have anything you want, Titus. Please. Enjoy.”

“All right!” Titus nearly sprinted away.

“Titus! Slow down! You might trip on that throw rug,” Adam warned.

Joy watched Adam as he stared after Titus. “He’s wonderful.”

“He’s like his mother.”

“He’s like you,” she said, feeling a long-remembered warmth flood her. “He looks just like you.”

“He does. Poor kid.”

“Adam, you are incredibly handsome. I always thought that.”

“I was a nerd.”

“I like nerds,” she countered. “Though you aren’t one.”

His blue gaze bored into her face, and for a moment, she was back there with him, in the potting shed where no one could see them and he was about to kiss her.

He jerked away and turned to the photos on the mantel. He picked one up. She looked at the picture.

“That’s us at prom. I forgot we had this one.”

“I remember. It was the night I proposed. You forget that, too?”

“No.”

“You said ‘yes.’”

“Adam. We agreed. We’d wait till after college… You had a scholarship to Purdue. I had a scholarship to Columbia. We grew up.”

“We drifted apart.”

This time when his eyes met hers, she saw sadness and regret. Not the sadness of mourning, but the kind she’d seen when she looked in the mirror after their breakup. She’d lost her parents. Adam. Her town. It had taken every ounce of courage to go to her classes and keep her grades up so that she didn’t lose her scholarship. But she’d done it. And she’d done it alone.

“We did.”

“Can I have this?” he asked.

She thought it an odd request. He had a son. A life and recent past she knew nothing about. But he wanted their prom picture. “Sure. Uh, Frank would want you to have something.”

“Frank—” Adam started to say something but Joy’s cell phone rang.

“It’s New York. I have to take this.”

“I better go. I’m truly sorry about Frank.”

“Thank you, Adam. I know you are.”

Adam walked to the dining room. She noticed that all the Barzonni brothers came up to him and slapped him on the back. Sarah hugged him. Maddie and Liz did, as well. They were all friends and they carried their affection for each other well.

Her cell phone rang again. She answered it. “Chuck. Sorry. I was just saying goodbye to a guest.”

“I didn’t know the luncheon would still be going on. I lost track of time myself. So, did you get the flowers?”

“I did. They were huge. Thank you very much.”

“Dad thought it was a good idea. They’re from both of us.”

“Please thank him for me.”

“I will. I tried to order them from your grandfather’s greenhouse, but the line was disconnected. You closed it down fast.”

Joy worried her lip. “Uh, actually, Chuck, it’s been down awhile now.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. My grandpa and I always used our cells and texts. I never called the greenhouse, where he’d be too busy to talk. Personally, I think he was expert at intrigue. Probably, all those old mystery movies he watched, because he kept his secret well. Even his deteriorating health was a secret. No one knew. Not even in town. Bottom line for us is that I’m meeting with the Realtor first thing in the morning.”

“Great. Thanksgiving is less than a week away.”

“Miss me that much, huh?”

“I’ll say. The work has stacked up like crazy since you left.”

“The work…”

“Yeah. Oh, and Dad said to say hi.”

“I gotta run. My guests, you know.”

“Oh sure. Absolutely. Kisses.”

“Kisses,” she echoed, as Chuck hung up.

Joy stared at her cell. “Work.”

Olivia walked up and put her arm around Joy’s waist. “You okay? Could use a hug, I bet.”

“Yeah.”

“This has been a shock for you,” Olivia said. “We’ve all been missing the greenhouses since Frank closed them up. But knowing that someone else will be buying them. It’s so…final, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Frank was the best guy. It’s a shame he had to close down. Christmas isn’t the same without his poinsettias all over my deli. I miss that magic…”

“Do you know why he closed?”

“Not really. I thought he might’ve had health issues.”

“He never told anyone why?”

Olivia’s expression was thoughtful. “He was a private man. But if anyone would know, it would be Adam.”

“Really?”

Olivia nodded. “Adam was like a son to him. When he moved back and his wife was ill, Frank was there for him. They’ve been inseparable since Amie died.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Really? Frank didn’t talk with you about Adam?”

“No.”

“That’s odd. But like I said, Frank was a private man.”

One by one, Joy’s guests came up to give her last hugs. They all begged her to call them for whatever help she would need. But all Joy needed was to put the greenhouses on the market, sign the papers, fly back to New York and let Cate take care of the rest.

It was a good plan.

Her life would go on. She’d be out of Indian Lake and out of their minds. Once again.

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