Once Upon a Christmas

He hadn’t been asked that question in almost fifteen years, not since high school. “I read the Bible.”

“Oh.”

She visibly recoiled, her withdrawal so tangible it made him stop thinking about where to put his feet and how much he’d paid for the stupid cups of coffee.

“When I have time,” he added, hoping to get her to relax, “I read the newspaper.”

“Online or paper?”

“A little bit of both.”

Instead of looking at Maggie and trying to figure out why his reading the Bible could put such a look of vulnerability—or fear?—on her face, Jared took a drink of his coffee. Bitter stuff, downright nasty. Good thing the cup wasn’t that big.

He decided to get right to the point. “Beth has pretty much insisted that I come talk to you.”

“And here I thought you just stopped by because you knew I needed help with breakfast.”

When she smiled, it about made him want to forget the real reason he had stopped by. But, only for a moment. “She thinks you can give me some ideas on how to help my son Caleb. He’s having trouble at school.”

Maggie was already nodding. “I told Beth she could send anyone my way. When Cassidy started having trouble in school, I felt so alone. My husband wasn’t around and when he was, he didn’t really understand. For months my only friends were the specialists and the books and articles I was reading practically every night on how to deal with Attention Deficit.”

He looked at her empty ring finger and desperately tried to remember what Joel had said about why a Mr. Tate wasn’t around.

“I’m not sure that anything is wrong with Caleb,” Jared said finally. “I think I just need to be stricter and—”

He knew the moment he lost her. Her smile flattened. Her stare was suddenly focused on something other than his face. His late wife, Mandy, used to get the same look on her face, usually when he was saying something about why the living room wasn’t picked up or why they were having hamburger for the third night in the row. It was only when Mandy got sick and couldn’t do anything that he realized just how much she’d been doing.

And how clueless he’d been.

“Look,” he backtracked, “Caleb is just five. He lost his mother when he was not yet two, and he pretty much lost me for almost a year. That he can focus at all is a miracle. I want to be a good dad. Beth says you have more parenting tips than Dr. Spock.”

He was trying to be nonchalant, but he was out of his comfort zone. He was used to women who wore comfortable shirts tucked into jeans. She wore enough pink to be a flamingo. She didn’t look old enough to be a parent, let alone one who gave advice when the going got tough.

“The most important thing I can tell you is don’t be afraid to ask for help, take all the advice that is offered and also be willing to sacrifice to get it.”

“Sacrifice?”

She nodded. “Time mostly.”

Something Jared didn’t have in abundance.

“You asked me for advice,” Maggie reminded him. “Funny, but it all goes back to something we talked about the first time in Beth’s classroom. Here’s the truth. When dealing with Caleb, patience isn’t a virtue, it’s your only barrier between sanity and chaos.”

Great, Jared thought, because if he remembered correctly, she had told him, upon that first meeting, that patience was seldom found in a woman and never in a man.

“I was really hoping,” he said, “that you’d give me some concrete advice. You know, an earlier bedtime, maybe he needs to eat more fruit.” Jared was grasping at straws and trying to remember everything he’d looked for on the internet.

She shook her head. He had an idea that whatever concrete advice she gave would be hard, harder than he could do.

“An earlier bedtime is always good. What kind of advice do you really want? I mean, is Caleb having trouble finishing homework? Sleeping? Does he worry a lot?”

Unfortunately, the only thing that didn’t ring true was worry. Caleb didn’t have a care in the world, especially when it came to homework.

“He gets stomachaches more than my other two and spends more time in the bathroom. Other than that, he’s a normal kid.” Thankfully the cell phone he’d never wanted and now couldn’t live without saved him from having to say anything else. He wasn’t prepared for her questions, and he knew her advice would be near impossible to follow.

“This is Jared,” he answered. It only took a moment to hear about the latest catastrophe facing those in charge of the church party.

“Absolutely,” Jared promised. “I’ll head home now and get some more.” Never before had he been glad to hear that he hadn’t brought enough hay for a maze. By now, he should be an expert on mazes.

He couldn’t help it. After he disconnected the call, he checked his watch again.

This meeting was over.

And Maggie Tate was looking at him as if he’d disappointed her.

For some reason, it bothered him.

* * *

“Mom, Mom, Mom.” Cassidy rarely said Mom only once. She usually said it three or more times just because she could.

“I’m getting dressed.”

“But I’m ready. Did you know that this outfit would look much better with red boots?” Cassidy didn’t expect an answer. She just looked at the two presents under the tree: one really small, the other really big. Neither looked the size of cowboy boots.

Maggie was no dummy. She’d wrapped the cowboy boots in a box five times their size.

“For now, your regular shoes will have to do. And, Cassidy, if you keep interrupting me, we’ll be late.”

Cassidy had put on her good clothes the moment she had gotten home and had been chanting “I’m ready” for almost three hours.

Maggie applied a layer of red lipstick that matched the red of her Norma Jean wool-blend winter dress. The weatherman predicted snow, and although it hadn’t arrived yet, cold temperatures had. Maggie wanted to be prepared for the worst and a fully lined frock would do the trick.

At least on the outside.

The inside, her insides, had a completely different need—one that pretty clothes couldn’t mask. She’d not stepped foot in a church for a year, not since Dan died.

It’s not a church service, Beth had insisted. It’s just a party. No Bible study and we’ll be singing Christmas songs.

It wasn’t Beth’s invitation that was getting Maggie to church. It was Cassidy’s, “But, Mom, all my friends will be there.”

It’s not a church service, Maggie told herself. And even if it turns into one, I can just take a bathroom break.

Maggie’s biggest fear was letting God get close.

Because that would stir up a memory Maggie was trying desperately to bury, one that involved Dan and injustice.

“Cool,” Cassidy approved when Maggie finally made it to the living room. “I’m ready.”

“I feel cool,” Maggie agreed. Only, really, she didn’t. Ever since Jared had taken her out for coffee this morning, broached the subject of Caleb needing help—of Jared needing help—and then chauffeured her home, she’d felt a bit off.

As if she’d left something undone.

It was usually mothers who’d come to Maggie to ask quietly if meeting with a developmental specialist had made a difference. They’d often thrown out tidbits of how their own children were behaving as if hoping Maggie would say something like, “Oh, that’s just typical kid behavior. I doubt you need to do all I’m doing.”

But Maggie wasn’t a specialist and wouldn’t offer any advice as to what someone else’s child needed. Early on, she had discovered that sometimes the mothers hoped she’d give them ideas on ways to “fix” their children.

Their children weren’t broken. Cassidy wasn’t broken. There was no fix. All Maggie could do is share what had worked and what hadn’t worked for them.

Patience worked, but it took time. Losing her patience didn’t work and took even more time.

“Mom, Mom, Mom.”

“What?”

“Can I have some hot chocolate?”

“No, they’re serving a meal at the party. I’ve already paid the five dollars, and I want you to eat real food.”

“Hot chocolate is real.”

“Real sugary,” Maggie agreed.

“But—”

“Get your heavy coat, plus mittens. Then grab your backpack. I think there will be prizes and candy. Let’s go.”

She’d diverted Cassidy. Taken the child’s mind off the hot chocolate and on to something else, something Cassidy wanted. End of problem.

It worked, this time.

Something else that worked for Cassidy was walking—well, Maggie walked, Cassidy skipped—to the church, waving at people who passed by.

As they turned onto Calver Street, Maggie could see the Main Street Church ahead. The parking lot was already fairly full. A few stragglers were exiting their cars. In the back, she could see the hay bale maze Jared and his crew had been working on. A campfire was already burning. Plus, she could also see a horse pulling a wagon full of kids.

Good thing the storm was holding off and the weather was cold but not freezing.

Near the wagon ride was Jared’s big black truck, tailgate down, and even though the festival was starting, a group of men were still unloading bales of hay.

All day long she’d been thinking about the man, how his presence had filled her kitchen, how wonderful all the noise had been, and—

“Caleb told me about this maze. His uncle, Joel, designed it. They started it yesterday, but something happened and they had to fix it. I think Matt’s daddy didn’t bring enough hay the first time. He had to go back for more.”

Aah, that’s why coffee and conversation was cut short.

They reached the parking lot and hurried toward the entrance.

The horse neighed, a distant sound that echoed in the early-evening chill and beckoned Cassidy. “Mom, Mom, Mom. That’s what I want to do first!” She sped up, her hand automatically reaching back for her mother and dragging Maggie along.

That’s when Jared McCreedy exited the front door of the church, Caleb’s small hand in his. Caleb was dragging his feet, practically falling in an effort to halt his father’s progress. A constant stream of “No, No, No” came from his mouth. Heading to the side of the building, away from the crowd of people, Jared bent down and starting talking.

Maggie couldn’t hear the words, but she knew by Caleb’s bowed head that somehow the little boy had gotten in trouble. And Jared McCreedy was doing what good fathers across the world do. He was shepherding. He was offering wisdom. He was trying to teach right from wrong.

As Maggie entered the church, she could imagine Caleb arguing with his dad. It didn’t take any imagination at all to picture Jared. He wouldn’t be open to an argument, especially coming from his youngest son.

“Welcome, we’re glad you could join us!”

Maggie shelved her musings about Jared for a moment and smiled at the woman greeting them. Upswept hair, perfect makeup and wearing an outfit that could have come right out of Maggie’s store.

“Is that Lilli Ann?” Maggie asked.

The woman turned. “Where?”

“I mean the designer of your vintage suit.”

The woman checked her outfit. “Oh, this is just something I threw on. My sister sent it from Des Moines a few years ago. She said it just looked like something I’d wear.”

Too bad. So far in Roanoke there’d not been a true fashionista who could talk Crepe Fox Fur or gold-tone pearl buttons.

Safe topics for in a church foyer when you really didn’t want to be there.

“Let me take your coats,” the woman offered.

It’s not a church service, Beth had insisted. It’s just a party. No Bible study and we’ll be singing Christmas songs.

“No,” Maggie insisted. “We’re fine. I’ll hang them up.” If she hung up her cocoa leather and shearling coat, she’d know right where to get it if she needed a quick getaway.

Not that her coat could get lost amid the heavy leather jackets and box-store offerings hanging on the rack. None of tonight’s attendees seemed to be into double-breasted fronts and huge collars.

“Have you been here before?”

Maggie knew what was coming next: an invitation to services.

“Excuse me.” Maggie pulled Cassidy in front of her. “We need the restroom.”

“Right over there.”

After a thorough washing of her hands—not because they were dirty but because Maggie needed to get her bearings—and several deep breaths, all while Cassidy urged “Come on, Mom, Mom, Mom, pleeeeeease,” Maggie headed for the foyer again. The woman who’d greeted her was already at the door with some other victim.

“There’s a horse,” Cassidy reminded.

“Perfect.” The horse was outside. To Maggie’s way of thinking, being outside a church was much better than inside a church.

As they made their way to the line for the horse and wagon rides, first picking up plastic cups of hot chocolate, Maggie noticed that Jared and Caleb were still standing at the side of the church.

Cassidy, though, was all about Cassidy. In a nanosecond, Maggie was holding both their drinks while Cassidy charged full speed ahead. She would have made it, too, if a toddler hadn’t suddenly veered in her way.

Cassidy recalculated, turned left, stumbled, went down, seemed momentarily stunned, but then hopped up and without so much as a backward glance at the toddler who had deterred her, got in line.

It was that magical seven-year-old energy.

Nope, Maggie thought for the second time, she wouldn’t change a thing about Cassidy. Every nuance was part of the precious package that Maggie loved, unconditionally.

Looking behind her, she watched Jared with his son. At one time, Maggie had been a prayer warrior. If that were still true, she’d be praying that Jared McCreedy was the kind of father who would soon figure out the same thing about his youngest son.

But Maggie no longer prayed. She’d seen firsthand the power of answered prayers and it terrified her.

Chapter Four

The Main Street Church certainly drew a crowd. Maggie recognized customers, parents of Cassidy’s classmates and even Henry Throxmorton, the owner of the antiques store from across the street who never seemed to smile. He wasn’t smiling now, but he was sitting at a table across from two other men—both knew how to smile—and looking as comfortable as she’d ever seen him. His wife, looking frail but content, sat next to him.

Only six months in Roanoke and already she knew a few faces. For the first time since entering the church doors, Maggie relaxed. She could do this.

Maggie quickly purchased a few tickets and followed the path Cassidy had already taken—sans the toddler. How Cassidy knew her way around, Maggie didn’t know. In a matter of minutes, they were both in line for the horse and wagon. Never mind the cold! There were a handful of adults and a crush of kids under ten, most of whom Maggie did not know, but Cassidy did.

With mittens on and hats down over their ears, Cassidy and Maggie rode in the wagon bed, singing Christmas songs at the top of their lungs along with anyone else foolhardy enough to be outside in the freezing weather.

Joel McCreedy, Jared’s brother, added a deep bass from his position at the reins. He listened to the kids’ suggestions for songs, told jokes and even paid attention as little ones shouted their lists for Santa Claus.

Joel was easygoing, not like his older brother. With a devil-may-care glint in his eyes and I-can-do-anything attitude, the younger McCreedy brother had quickly won over both Maggie and Cassidy this past summer while he worked on remodeling the store that became Hand Me Ups.

Still, it was the older brother that Maggie couldn’t seem to forget.

After three go-rounds, the cold soon drove the Tate women inside to the crowded fellowship hall where the food smelled as inviting as the people were. It only took a moment before Cassidy claimed she was warm again and stood at one of the large windows staring longingly at the horse toting around yet another group of revelers.

Not a chance. Maggie was so cold her teeth hurt.

“Joel said that when the crowd dies down, I can sit up front with him. Then it would be fair.” Cassidy stood so close to the window that her breath frosted the glass.

Maggie was no dummy. “Which means we’ll be here until cleanup.”

“Yes,” Cassidy said brightly.

Just as Maggie was ready to open her mouth, squash that idea—

“We can always use help with cleanup.”

Trust Beth Armstrong to walk by at just the right moment. Her arms were full of paper plates, cups and napkins. Matt McCreedy followed her with a stack of plastic forks. He tripped over his untied shoelaces and the forks hit the ground. Maggie and Cassidy gathered them up and followed Beth and Matt to the kitchen.

“I’m not quite sure where Jared’s gotten off to.” Beth joined the workers in the kitchen. “He’s supposed to be helping with serving. He never shirks his duty.”

“Dad’s busy,” Matt volunteered.

“Doing what?”

Matt gave the typical kid reply. “I don’t know.”

Maggie bit her lower lip. She knew how busy Jared was. She also believed Beth’s words about Jared and responsibility. Her husband had been like that, putting duty first. Could be Jared had lost all track of time and didn’t realize how cold it was. If Jared and Caleb were outside, then maybe now was the perfect time to start interfering.

Helping.

She wasn’t interfering.

“Watch Cassidy for just a moment, will you?”

In response, Beth set Cassidy to putting plastic dining ware into separate containers.

Stepping outside the kitchen and once again into the fellowship hall, Maggie quickly looked around. No Jared. She headed for the foyer, still full of people in varying stages of taking off coats, putting them back on. Most laughing. No Jared.

She really hadn’t been expecting to find him in either place.

Then, exiting the church, she rounded the corner and found both Jared and Caleb leaning against the building, both of them looking half-frozen.

“We’ll go in when you calm down,” Jared was saying.

“Noooooooo.”

Maggie had to give Jared credit, he didn’t lose his temper at Caleb’s belligerent whine nor did he give in. His voice, however, was sharp when he said, “I’m sure getting cold.”

“Nooooooo.” If anything, the whine got louder. Jared winced and stood his ground.

“I’ll bet you’re getting hungry, too,” Maggie announced as she rounded the corner, hoping she was doing the right thing, slightly nervous at intervening.

Helping, she was helping.

She wished someone had been around when she was first going through this.

“Cassidy’s been looking for you, Caleb.” Maggie looked at Jared, trying to gauge whether he wanted her help or wanted her to back off. His expression was unfathomable. But, judging by the way he gritted his teeth, he did need help—whether he wanted it or not.

“Seems your Uncle Joel has promised a hayride with a couple of kids sitting up front,” Maggie continued. “She thought you’d like to go with her.”

Happiness for a moment, back to anger and then doubt all flickered across Caleb’s face.

“That would be fine with me,” Jared encouraged. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his tan coat. A black knit cap was pulled over his head, low enough so Maggie couldn’t see his eyes, but not so low that it did a good job of protecting his face.

Caleb pushed himself away from the church, a little clumsily since he had on a heavy coat—just like his father’s but definitely a size too big—and boots that were also a little too big for his feet. It looked like hand-me-downs were alive and well at the McCreedy house. Without a backward glance, Caleb trotted toward the horse and wagon.

Maggie turned. She needed to get Cassidy pronto.

“Wait!” Jared said.

“Just let me get Cassidy out there to meet him. It’s important that I keep my word.” She hurried inside, fetched Cassidy, and rushed toward the horse and wagon.

A moment later, she promised Joel that she’d have the children’s tickets after he made the round. Caleb, used to both the wagon and Joel, hopped right up on the front seat. Cassidy scrambled alongside him. Both children shouted Giddy up!

Maggie headed to the side of the church, albeit hesitantly. Thanks to his winter hat, she’d not been able to read his expression and wasn’t one hundred percent sure he’d appreciated her interference.

Her help.

But Jared—sensible man—had already gone inside and was taking his place carrying hot dog buns to the serving area. No way did Maggie want to talk to him amid all these people.

There was a short line at the table where two women sold tickets. A jar with money inside had a photo of a family and in black marker were the words: all proceeds to go to needy families.

Nostalgia, unwelcomed and unwanted, hit Maggie like a surprise kick to the back of the knees. Three years ago, she’d been the church woman sitting at the table collecting the money. Sixteen years ago, she’d been a member of the “needy family” club.

Maggie took a deep breath. Tonight she was close to being the needy family again and as far away from the church woman as she could possibly be.

It’s not a church service. It’s just a party. We’ll be singing Christmas songs.

But Maggie could never forget, no matter how she tried to place her memories of Christmas on a back burner for Cassidy’s sake.

Christmas was not the best time to venture inside a church, and not because they collected for needy families and not because Maggie no longer prayed.

It was because it had been a December day that she’d received word that her husband had been killed in the line of duty. It had also been a December day that Maggie’s mother had walked out on her daughter and husband.

I’m strong. I can do this. I will do this.

Maggie managed to buy the tickets with minimal words and—her legs still feeling weak—backed away from the table and just stood in the middle of the crowd looking at the walls.

I’m strong. I can do this. I will do this.

The walls behind the ticket sellers were awash with Christmas drawings made by the kids. Santas of varying sizes, some even skinny, tumbled across the walls. Snowmen chased them. Snowflakes, some resembling pumpkins, came in amazing colors.

Cassidy didn’t have an offering on the wall as Maggie didn’t let her attend church.

Maggie left the fellowship hall. She needed something to chase away the memories of the past. She needed away from all the “Merry Christmases.” It was somewhat calmer in the hallway. The Bible classroom doors were shut, but the area teemed with people and, yes, their minds were on Christmas.

Tables were set up, and a craft business seemed to be thriving. Joel could wait a little longer for the tickets. And, she knew if she wasn’t there when he finished the round, he’d just take the kids again.

Low on funds, Maggie bypassed the spiral-bound cookbooks that were for sale next to a display of beaded jewelry and went straight to some knitters and crocheters who might consider selling their goods on consignment in her shop. What she really wanted was crocheted soda can hats, but she’d make the request after seeing which of the crafters wanted to work with her.

While the ticket takers on the inside were collecting money for needy families, the crafters were all about collecting money for the church camp. They were thrilled at having another avenue to make money.

There was also a husband and wife team selling photo identification badges for kids. He was flanked by an artist and a clockmaker. If she’d had some spare cash, she’d buy a few presents.

Maybe next year they’d let her set up an area and sell vintage clothes. She could do a great business in the kids department.

That did it. Just a few thoughts about work and next year. Some of Maggie’s anxiety ebbed. Enough so that when Cassidy came barreling around the corner shouting, “I couldn’t find you!” Maggie was able to pick up her daughter and swing her saying, “I’ll never wander far. You’ll always be able to find me.”