Ruth Herne - Her Holiday Family

The pinch of common sense was nudged by a twinge of guilt. She did like to make her own path, chart her own course, a charge-ahead kind of woman in many ways. Sherrie had asked if she’d turned to prayer.

She hadn’t, not really. Was she too busy, too independent to trust God?

Beezer whined and pawed the door, ready to go. Tina drew a breath, switched off the lights, activated the alarm and went out the door with the big, gold dog ambling alongside her.

Wind tunneled down Main Street, tumbling the last of autumn’s leaves. They scurried along the street, pushed by the stiff breeze, gathering in curves and hollows.

Soon it would snow. And they’d continue to decorate the town in beautiful light, a beacon of Christmas hope and cheer. And once again she’d spend Christmas alone, no family, no beloved, no kids.

Beezer pushed his head up under her arm.

He wanted her to pet him. Talk to him. So she did just that on the drive to the Campbell house, happy that no one could see her talking with the big yellow dog, but more glad of his trusting company.

If nothing else crazy occurred in her life this year, she was determined to get herself a dog. Maybe.

Beezer yipped softly, as if telling her she didn’t need another dog, she could still share him. If she stayed.

And there was the crux of the problem. A big part of Tina didn’t want to stay and face past failures anymore.

Chapter Three

“Hey, Beeze.” Max swung down from the elevated boathouse as Tina rounded the corner of the Campbell house at half past six. He looked sports-channel-commercial-friendly in easy-cut jeans and a long-sleeved Pittsburgh Pirates sweatshirt.

“Did you keep an eye on things, old fella?” He stooped and ruffled the dog’s neck, rubbing Beeze’s favorite spot beneath the wide collar. “All good?” He looked up at her as he asked the question, and the sight of him, caring for the aging dog, looking all sweet and concerned and amazingly good-looking...

She took three seconds to put her heart back in normal sinus rhythm mode. “Everything went fine. Dozens of happy customers picking up their tools and buying fixer-upper stuff to get ready for the holidays.” She frowned as Beeze headed for the water, though she knew she had nothing to worry about. Beeze was a country dog and his daily swim was an old habit now. “He’ll smell like wet dog all night.”

“I’ll put him on the porch. Dad’s gotten sensitive to smells. The chemo, I guess. He says nothing smells right anymore.”

“Will it get better when he’s done?”

Max’s expression said he wasn’t sure anything would get better, ever. Seeing that, her heart softened more.

“Hope so.” Max headed for the house. “Come on in. Beeze will join us once he’s done with his swim.”

Tina knew that. She’d spent an increasing amount of time at the Campbell house over the past decade. Charlie and Jen were good at taking in strays, and when her family had fallen apart, they’d jumped right in. She’d spent holidays here, preserved food with Jenny during the summer, and when Seth Campbell spotted her café on fire a few weeks back from his house across the road, he’d called 9-1-1 and his parents.

They’d helped her then.

She’d help them now. And she’d have done it for no pay, but Charlie wouldn’t hear of it. A true fatherly type, he understood cash was finite in a week-to-week existence, and he insisted on paying her for her time. “You know, if you’re too tired, we can go over this stuff in the morning. I know you’ve had a long day.”

“Except we could really use the light guy’s take on all this.” Max’s nod toward the door said Charlie’s input was key.

“Is he up to it?”

“Let’s ask him.” Max swung the porch door wide and waited while she stepped in. The smell of roast chicken chased away any pale arguments she might have raised about staying for dinner. She used to grab quick food as she prepared orders at the café. She’d never worried about cooking or grocery shopping at home because she ate on the job. Now?

Truth to tell, she’d been barely eating at all. The realization smacked her upside the head as she crossed to Charlie’s big recliner. “Hey, there. We had a great day today, thanks to Max’s overnight efforts.”

“Yeah?” Charlie’s smile was a thin portrait of the one they knew so well. Tiredness dogged his eyes. “Max and Earl got all that stuff fixed?”

“We did. And how about we have you move into the living room, Dad, because when Beeze comes in from the lake, he’s going to smell pretty bad. I’ll leave him outside for a while, but then I’ll tuck him on the porch. If that’s all right.”

“I can towel him off when he’s done with his swim,” Tina added. “Then he can curl up by the heater. He and I are used to this routine.”

“Are you now?” Max lobbed an old towel her way from the stack they kept inside the back door. “You’re elected, then. Need a hand, Dad?”

“I wouldn’t mind one.” Charlie huffed as he pressed his hands against the wide arms of the chair. He pushed down hard, but paused midway to catch his breath.

Max didn’t fuss, he didn’t act the least bit concerned or surprised, which told her he was skilled at pretense, and that wasn’t something women put in the plus column. She’d had her share of guys who pretended to be happy. Never again. Still, his calm demeanor and strong arm beneath his father’s elbow allowed Charlie the extra support he needed, and Max’s matter-of-fact manner kept the moment drama-free. “Do you want to eat at the table or in the family room? There’s an eight-o’clock game on ESPN.”

“Who’d you say was playing?”

Tina sucked a breath. Charlie Campbell knew sports like no other. He loved catching games on TV, and he’d installed a TV in the hardware store so he could catch Pittsburgh throughout both seasons, baseball and football. He’d been celebrating their growing success all year. Before chemotherapy muddled his mind, Charlie would never forget what game was on, who’d scored the most points or who landed on the disabled list.

But he had.

He passed a hand across his forehead as he settled into the firm family-room chair. “They said I might forget stuff.”

“It appears they were right,” Max teased. “But Dad, that’s normal for chemo. And it all comes back later.”

Charlie stared at Max, stared right at him with a look that said too much, but then he shrugged, playing along. “That’ll be good.”

Tina’s heart sank. For just a moment, she read the realization in Max’s eyes, his face-off with the grim reality of a new timeline, but then he leaned in, hugged his father and backed off. “I’ll bring you a tray, okay?”

Charlie’s face paled further, and Tina hadn’t thought that was possible. She touched Max’s arm to draw his attention to “Plan B.” “Or Charlie and I could just sit and talk while you guys eat,” she offered brightly. “I’ll fill him in on store stuff and pick his brain about the festival of lights.”

“Since I want to be in on that conversation, I bet Mom won’t mind if we hold off supper for a few minutes while we figure this out. Great idea, Tina.”

His praise warmed her. His expression said he recognized her ploy and approved. It was clear that Charlie didn’t want food, and despite the great smells emanating from Jenny Campbell’s kitchen, Tina didn’t mind waiting. Not if it helped Charlie.

* * *

Max set a side chair alongside Tina’s in the family room and took a seat. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her purse. “Charlie, can you give us a quick overview of your normal festival timeline? Max has offered to help, but he hasn’t been here since this tradition started.”