Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Melody

I was unnerved after getting coffee and a muffin with Charles. I took my time putting on my makeup, cringing as I realized he had seen me without it. Not that it mattered. I had made it very clear that I didn’t want to see him again. But I was self-conscious, and there was always the chance I’d run into him again.

I stared at myself in the mirror and tugged at my face, smoothing the lines around my eyes. I should’ve gotten some surgery done before I got divorced. I had never really cared about surgery or anything like that. I’d felt like I looked pretty good. Now I felt vulnerable.

I finished applying my makeup and then started on my hair. It was long and straight, but today I curled it. I felt like I needed a little lift and holiday spirit. Gretchen would get it. I put on some nice black slacks and a tighter Christmassy red top. At least I was slender, I reminded myself. I didn’t have to work at that. All the running and the lack of appetite showed.

Charles had asked me to dinner tomorrow night. He probably would’ve taken me somewhere nice. The thought filled me with shame. Why couldn’t I say yes to dinner with a friend?

My heart raced. I knew why: because he wasn’t just a friend. He would always be the man who’d gotten away. Strike that—the man I’d shoved away.

At exactly ten am, I unlocked the front door. My phone buzzed, and I looked at who was calling me. Peter.

I answered. “Do you have the 401(k) money lined up for me?”

“Always a money grubber.”

Anger surged inside me. “What do you want, Peter?”

He sighed. “I might be able to get that money to you sooner if you can help me out with some things.”

I tried to breathe slower and calm myself. “Like what?”

“Have you talked to Will?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It’s just a polite question. He won’t talk to me.”

I wanted to laugh, but there were many times Will wouldn’t talk to me, so I didn’t want to make it a thing. “I have to go, Peter.”

“Wait. Do you know where the Christmas villages are?”

This rocked me. “What?”

“Your decorations.”

This time I did laugh. “They’re with me. They’re mine.” I hung up on him.

I took the time to get the little vacuum and make sure the carpet was nice and clean. It was, even though we had more foot traffic than normal. I tried to put Peter out of my mind, but I kept coming back to what he’d told me. Will wasn’t talking to him. Good. And the Christmas villages? Pfft. Those were mine. He’d never put any of them up. In fact, he’d complained about them every year.

I made myself focus. To keep busy, I straightened shelves and dolls, looking for any that were out and going to the back to replace them. Some sections were emptier than I’d expected. Probably because the girl who worked here, Mandy, had pulled them and never taken the time to replace them. Ah, teenagers.

That made me think of my son. He was almost twenty, not a teenager anymore. I missed those days. We had always been close. There had been countless nights when he’d brought his whole lacrosse team home, and I’d baked for them and sat around teasing them. My son had always included me, which I’d loved. It was only since the divorce that he had been different. Maybe he blamed me somehow. He wouldn’t stay on the phone long enough to have a conversation about it.

After getting everything squared away, I went to the computer to look up the receipts and pull up the accounts. I analyzed everything for the month and saw we were ahead of our target. Which was good, because we would still barely make ends meet. Or rather, I would barely make ends meet.

Anger surged within me, and I picked up the phone and pressed my ex-husband’s number, ready for a fight now. It went straight to voicemail, so I left a message. “Peter, I need the 401(k) money. You know this. I’m supposed to have it by the end of the year. Call me back.”

I hung up and felt gross, like I needed a shower. I hated demanding money from him. One of my girlfriends back in Colorado, Sharon, had called a couple days ago and told me he was no longer dating Tonya, the one he had been dating when he ended our twenty-year marriage. Now he was dating some other girl that we’d both known from our book club. She’d only been divorced a little over a year.

I cringed and tried to focus on things I could control. That was the best thing. Right?

But I couldn’t help feeling depressed that my son would not be here this week for Christmas. I’d truly thought he would celebrate the holiday with me. He had asked to stay in my mother’s home for New Year’s, and that troubled me. I didn’t want to go in there, but I would do it for him, if that was where he wanted to be. Maybe tomorrow afternoon I would clean it up.

The door opened, and I smiled as my friend Gretchen hurried in. She looked out of breath.

“Hey, I just got a call from the school,” she said. “Max got in trouble. I’m going to put up a sign next door and tell them to come to you if they need anything. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” I moved to her side and took her hand. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “Truly, no. He’s been getting in trouble so much. I can’t tell if he’s starting these fights or someone else is. I’ll talk later.” She rushed out the door, and I watched her go.

It wasn’t like the shop would get so busy that I couldn’t cover for her, but Mandy wouldn’t be here until three. So hopefully it all didn’t take too long. Not that you could ever count on school stuff to wrap up when it was supposed to.

I didn’t have time to worry about it too much, because the door opened and a mother and daughter walked in. They were clearly here on vacation: they were wearing beach clothes and looked highly unprepared for the fifty-degree weather with humidity.

The woman smiled at me, and I couldn’t help noticing she’d put on too much makeup. “I heard this was the best doll shop. My daughter and I are looking for some dolls for Christmas.”

The daughter seemed to be eight or nine years old. She was interested, which was nice. Sometimes mothers brought in daughters who were not interested at all.

“You’ve come to the right place. Most of my Christmas dolls are right up front, here in this display.” I motioned to the display that had the little Christmas village with all the dolls in different positions. “Look around the store, because I have a few scattered. Don’t be afraid to take some hot cocoa. I’m going to make some right now.” I’d read online about different successful brick-and-mortar stores. One thing they mentioned was that the store always gave something small away. It was a psychological trick that made the customer feel more obligated to buy something.

I went to the little kitchen in the back and quickly put together some hot chocolate. When I brought it out, I was delighted to see that the girl was holding two of the dolls. The mother was looking at a shelf of sleeping dolls, which were much better than the crying dolls. The crying dolls honestly freaked me out a little.

I situated the hot chocolate and then smiled at the daughter. “I see you’ve chosen Christmas Mistletoe and Little Miss Snowflake. Great choices.” I motioned to the table. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

The mom shook her head, still fascinated by the sleeping dolls. “No, but she can have some.”

Quickly, I put the hot chocolate together and handed it to the daughter, exchanging the cup for the dolls. I put the dolls on the counter. “We will keep them here to keep them safe. But go ahead and look if you want.”

I walked over to the mom, who was now holding a sleeping doll named Rose. “Rose is special,” I began, and I was startled to realize I sounded just like my mother. She used to say things like that about dolls for so many years as I’d grown up living and working in the store.

The door dinged, and Charles walked in. Why was he here? I wouldn’t reward him showing up by giving him any attention. I didn’t want him here. Did I? Adrenaline spiked through me.

I locked eyes with him. “Just a second. I’ll be right with you.”

Charles nodded. “No problem. I’ll just be looking around.”

I turned back to the mother, who seemed to be getting emotional as she pulled the doll into her arms. “I had this doll when I was growing up. One day, I came home from school, and she was gone. I didn’t know how someone had taken her. I looked for her for months, years. I loved this doll.”

“We do get attached to our dolls,” I said, feeling compassion for her. “It’s the magic of childhood. Are you going to get that one for yourself?”

The woman hesitated and then shook her head. “I don’t know.”

The little girl spoke up. “Mom, I’ll get it for you.”

“Sweetheart, let’s just get yours.”

She couldn’t afford both. Shoot.

“No, Mom, let’s just get this one for you,” the daughter objected.

Emotion filled the back of my throat, and I thought about my own mother and the way she’d always put me first. She’d sacrificed so much to pay for anything I needed. I blinked rapidly and moved to the checkout, knowing what I needed to do.

“No, sweetie, I want to get one for you. Pick which one.”

The little girl frowned and put down the doll she wanted. She pointed to Little Miss Mistletoe. “But I want you to get yours, Mommy.”

The mother blinked rapidly. Oh no. If she cried, I would start crying too.

“Let’s check the price,” I said quickly. “Maybe it’s on a discount.”

The mom hesitated and then handed over the doll.

I turned Rose over in my hands. “Yep, this one is definitely on sale today for half price.”

“It’s okay.” She clearly didn’t believe it. “I’ll have to get it next time.”

“No, Mom, I’ll pay. Take my money.” The little girl handed her mother a twenty-dollar bill and a quarter. “Buy it.”

The mother blinked hard. “Sweetheart, we are just getting you a Christmas doll today.” She reached into her purse to pull out a tissue and accidentally pulled her hair.

Her wig slipped off.

I was shocked.

The mother was too. She gasped and pulled it back onto her head.

“Mommy,” the little girl said. “Are you okay?”

Instantly, I realized too much makeup and the wig on this woman pointed to signs of … cancer.

“I’m fine,” the woman said. She turned to me. “We will just get the Mistletoe doll, please.”

I looked at the register. “Gosh, you know what? I totally forgot today is our ‘buy one doll, get one free’ sale.”

“Yay!” The daughter clapped her hands together as I rang up one of the dolls.

The mother had tears on her blushing cheeks. “Are you sure?”

I bagged both dolls for them. “Of course. I forgot about the sale today.”

The mother wiped her face and held out her card. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I nodded and finished the transaction. When I handed over the bag with two boxes, the mother took them.

“Bless you, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” I smiled as I watched them go. Had I made any money on that transaction? No. But I felt good inside.

They walked out, and I remembered that someone else was in the shop. I spotted Charles by the Christmas display; he was smiling at me.

“What?” I asked him.

“Nothing. I see you’re spreading Christmas cheer.”

I waved him off and turned to a shelf next to the register. “Are you buying any dolls today?”

“Nope. Just here to ask you out again.”

Flabbergasted and somewhat excited, I turned to face him. “Charles, no.”

He shrugged. “If you won’t go out with me tonight, then you should go to the church’s date auction. I mean, it is their way of earning money for the cancer wing.” His family usually donated enough money to supplement whatever fundraising happened at the Christmas gala.

“Are you going to auction off a date?” I challenged; then I realized that might sound overeager. “Not that I want you to, but I’m just …” I trailed off, feeling out of sorts. “I mean, you should if you’re encouraging me to.”

He shrugged. “I will if you will.”

Annoyed and slightly flustered, I shook my head. “No.”

A man put his head through the door. “The sign says that you can help me at the bookstore?”

I nodded. “You bet. Coming.” I took my long coat off the hook next to the desk and followed him out of the store.

Charles followed me. “What are you doing?”

“Gretchen had to run to the school because her son got into some trouble. I told her I’d let people into her store.”

A couple holding a baby waited to walk into the shop. “Are you open?” the man asked.

I hesitated. “Uh, yeah. Just a second.”

Another mother and daughter paused to look at my display window. Oh gosh, I didn’t want to lose out on this business.

Charles said, “Do you want me to go watch the bookstore for Gretchen and Kent while you take care of your store?”

I only hesitated for a moment. It had been years, but I absolutely trusted Charles. He wouldn’t steal anything or do anything weird. “That would be great.”