Сьюзен Мэллери: Yours for Christmas

“I’m writing it down,” he told her as he typed the information into his calendar. “We’re delivering the decorated containers the Friday after Thanksgiving?”

“That’s the plan. Oh, are you around? I didn’t think to ask if you’d be traveling.”

“I’m not.”

There was a pause, as if she were thinking. “Okay. Great. Because I thought you might be with family. Or, you know, a girlfriend.”

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. A not very subtle attempt to extract information. “There’s no girlfriend. And I’m staying in town for the holiday.”

“Good,” she said. The single word was followed by a quick intake of air. As if she was concerned he would think the “good” referred to his single state.

“I, ah, meant I appreciate your help. With the bins and all. I don’t think I could have fit them in my car or carried them into the different stores. And with Sam and Jack both out of town, I’m not sure who I would have asked....” She paused again. “Kenny, all your friends are going to be gone. Where are you having Thanksgiving dinner?”

The previous topic had been a whole lot more interesting to him. Was it possible he made Bailey nervous? Better and better, he thought, before turning to her question.

“I don’t have any plans.”

“You can’t be alone,” she told him. “You’re welcome to join Chloe and me. We’re planning to go to the parade and then have a pretty traditional dinner. Nothing fancy.”

He wasn’t interested in fancy. It was highly overrated. He thought about the beautiful redhead and her adorable daughter and realized the invitation was something he could put on his list to be thankful for.

“I’d like that a lot,” he told her.

“Really? I mean good. The parade is at noon. We’ll be walking over about eleven-thirty, if you want to join us. Or after.”

He smiled. “I’ll be there at eleven-thirty. I’ll bring pie.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I’m looking forward to the day.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

THE FOOL’S GOLD convention center was an older building that lacked much in the way of architectural detail. But it served its purpose and right now that was way more important to Bailey than anything in the way of visual interest.

She had eight Sprouts, eight collection bins, plenty in the way of paint, markers, glitter and glue, and milling adults to corral.

The bins themselves were round, about four feet tall and wide enough to take a tricycle. The outsides were a stiff cardboard. Clean but not very holiday-like. That was going to change.

“Big crowd,” Kenny said as he walked up to her. “I thought we’d get a few parents, but that was it. There have to be at least thirty people here.”

“I put the word out,” she said, trying to appear both pleasant and casual without giving away how her body had gone into hyperalert. He was so tall, she thought dreamily. So handsome. So nice .

The latter was the most dangerous. Because while his physical appeal was exciting, that kind of a crush wouldn’t last. If he’d been a jerk or arrogant or the least bit annoying, she could have dismissed his blue eyes or easy smile. But the niceness was the real problem. The more she got to know Kenny, the more she liked him. He’d been incredibly helpful during the inspection and now he was here to help the Sprouts with their bins. If the man rescued a kitten from a tree, she was going to be a goner.

“People just showed up?” he asked.

“You sound surprised. You’re here.”

He gave her that slow smile of his. “I had no choice. Mayor Marsha terrifies me.”

“I doubt that.” She glanced at her watch. “Time to get serious. You want to take charge or should I?”

The smile widened. “I like a woman in charge. Go for it.”

Bailey told herself not to read too much into his teasing comment as she walked to the front of the large conference room she’d chosen for the decorating.

“Good morning,” she said loudly.

The conversation stilled as everyone turned toward her.

“Thanks so much for coming. Our goal this morning is to decorate our collection bins for the toy drive. There’s one bin for each Sprout. We’d like the bins to reflect the individual Sprout’s personality and family traditions for the holidays.”

She went on to explain about the supplies and then broke everyone into groups. There was a mad rush for paint, glue and glitter. Gideon, a local late night DJ, strolled in with a portable music system.

“Mind if I set up?” he asked.

“I’d love it,” she told him.

Kenny walked up to her. “So what am I supposed to do?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about decorating a collection bin.”

“It’s okay. We’re just here to supervise. Make sure no one goes wild with the glue sticks. Or you can help Chloe.”

She pointed to the small group around her daughter. Madeline, who worked at the town’s bridal boutique, had offered to be Chloe’s substitute mom for the day. Bailey had been concerned that if she was supposed to be running the event, she wouldn’t be able to help Chloe very much. She’d gratefully accepted the offer of help.

Kenny looked around the large open space, then nodded toward Chloe. “I’ll be over there.”

“Hiding out?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“You know it.”

She watched him go. He was a good guy, she thought wistfully. Before she could allow her thoughts to drift to more places they shouldn’t, music filled the room. Gideon had brought a collection of upbeat holiday carols that soon had everyone singing while they worked.

Bailey walked to each of the Sprouts. Allison and her family and friends had come prepared with beautiful printouts of Russian nesting dolls.

“We’re going to decorate the background, then glue on the pictures of the dolls,” Allison told her. “We’ll put clear varnish over the top.”

“I like it,” Bailey said.

She noticed Allison’s mom had on a pretty beaded bracelet. For a second she thought it was an adult version of the bracelets the Sprouts wore—one with beads they earned for various projects.

Allison’s mom saw her studying the piece and held out her wrist. “Isn’t it wonderful? The beads represent all the colors of cancer awareness.” She smiled at her husband. “It was a gift for my birthday.”

The man in question smiled back. “You’d been hinting you wanted it for weeks. Don’t give me too much credit.”

They laughed together.

Bailey nodded and moved to the next group. But before she got there, she glanced back at the couple who had paused for a quick hug.

Their intimacy, their obvious love for each other, gave her a funny feeling in her stomach. Longing, she decided. She wanted what they had. She wanted to fall in love and stay in love for the rest of her life.

If any of her friends knew that was what she secretly longed for, they would be surprised. After all, she’d been married. Happily—or so it had appeared on the outside. But not in her heart, she thought. Will had been a terrific guy...just not for her.

Theirs hadn’t been a bad marriage. Just not special. Maybe they’d married too young. Maybe they’d grown apart because of his frequent deployments. There could be a thousand reasons. Her only hope was that he’d never figured out that she wasn’t happy.

* * *

THANKSGIVING MORNING DAWNED clear and cold. Bailey was up early—in part to prepare the turkey and stuffing, but mostly because she couldn’t sleep.

She was going to spend the entire day with Kenny. The realization made her feel like she was sixteen again and had a mad crush on... She stopped applying her mascara so she could laugh without poking herself in the eye. Because the cliché that had come to mind was a mad crush on the football captain. And she would bet that Kenny had been just that. He was the kind of guy who would take charge of the team and lead them to the championship.