Page 29 of The Christmas Keepsake
“I’m covering for one of the other nurses so she can attend some family stuff for the holidays. The extra shifts help with Nan’s care.”
Hollis nodded. “Nursing. Visiting Nan. Putting on a play. Don’t burn the candle at both ends. You’ll burn yourself out.”
She breathed a laugh. “I may have been close to doing just that, but tonight was good for me. It was fun.”
“Laughter is good medicine,” Hollis said. “Just let me know when you need more. I’m at the ready if it means keeping you from burning out.”
The air between them felt charged—at least to him. Even knowing that tonight wasn’t supposed to have any romantic implications,he found himself leaning in, drawn by some invisible force—a string that had always pulled him toward Mallory. As he leaned, however, Mallory blinked, breaking the spell.
“Thank you, Hollis,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Then she gathered her bag, avoiding looking at him directly. “Good night.”
He watched as she slipped out of the truck and walked up her driveway to her front porch. Then he expelled a long breath as she disappeared inside the home. “Night, Mal.”
Driving home, Hollis wondered if it was his imagination or if something had shifted between them tonight. It might not have been a date, but it felt like more than friendship.
The Rustic Nail Ornament
You’ll find the Rustic Nail Ornament in a bright red velvet box labeled with the number 4. Open the lid and prepare to be… well, underwhelmed. The rusted and bent nail looks as if it’s seen better days, and it has. This nail came from the Old Bloom Mill House. During its transformation, as I walked the property, I nearly stepped on this nail, which might have altered the whole story I’m about to tell. Instead, I spotted the nail, like a copper penny on the ground, picked it up, and slid it in my pocket like a good luck charm. How desperate I must have been to think a rusty, old nail would serve such a purpose… This rusted nail should be hung fourth down on your tree. I’ve tied a gold ribbon around its head.
Here’s the story behind it.
The day I drove home from New York on my way back to Bloom, it rained the entire trip. Looking back, I can’t decide if it was actually raining or if it was just my tears blurring my vision that gray afternoon because the windshield wipers couldn’t seem to make anything more clear. Truthfully, I’m shocked I made it back to the house where I grew up. But I did.
I was home. That’s how I felt when I passed theWELCOME TO BLOOMsign. Some part of me also felt like I was returning with my tail between my legs and a secret baby in my belly.
I didn’t want anyone to know about the pregnancy at first. Least of all Ralph. I’d left him with no good-bye, just like he told me to. And I was terrified he might not take me back. I wouldn’t if I were in his shoes. My worst fear was that he wouldn’t want our baby.
It was ours, of course. I’d never been with any man before Ralph. He was my one and my only.
All I knew as I drove those miles back to North Carolina was that I did want the baby. Whether it was a him or a her. Or one of each. Twins run in the family, you know. I hadn’t even been to a doctor yet to confirm the pregnancy, but I didn’t need to. A woman knows these things even if she’s never experienced them before.
My first stop when I returned to Bloom was my parents’ house. I parked inside their garage, went inside the house, and closed myself off in my childhood bedroom. I didn’t show my face for three days. On the third day, my mother knocked on my bedroom door and came in without waiting for me to respond.
“How far along are you?” she asked with a knowing look.
The tears exploded out of me. Uncontrollable sobs. Holding in a secret is so lonely, but I didn’t know how to tell them. I knew they’d be so disappointed in me and, after a lifetime of trying to be the good girl, the one my parents could brag about to their friends, I felt like a failure. I couldn’t face her. Instead, I turned my gaze out the window that overlooked my mother’s beautiful flower garden in the backyard. “I-I don’t know.” My voice was barely more than a whisper, and my body was trembling. My cheeks were wet with the tears streaming down.
My mother stepped over and kneeled at my bedside. She laid a gentle hand on my forearm. “Does Ralph know?”
I shook my head quickly, nearly choking on my sobs. “I haven’t spoken to him since I left town. I made him promise that we wouldn’t… he couldn’t…” I could barelyget the words out, and I didn’t want to explain. Explaining made me feel like a bad person. There were all these ideas in my head about how things were supposed to look and feel and be. Having a baby was supposed to feel joyful, and that wasn’t at all how I felt. I was scared. Lonely. Heartbroken. I’d even heard that Ralph had been seen around town with an old classmate of mine. “Does Daddy know?”
When my mother didn’t answer, I finally looked in her direction.
What I saw was so unexpected. There was no disappointment in my mother’s eyes. Instead, I saw warmth. “Mom?” I asked again.
She squeezed my forearm, a tiny hug and show of support. “Men aren’t as intuitive when it comes to these things. And your father is more clueless than most.” She laughed quietly. Then her expression grew serious. “Is this something you can live with? Leaving your dreams of Broadway behind to raise a child? It isn’t easy. In fact, motherhood is the hardest thing you’ll ever do.”
I’d been asking myself the same question since the moment I knew. “Broadway wasn’t what I thought it’d be.” I took a steadying breath. In Bloom, I had been the best. I don’t say that in an egotistical way. A person knows when they’re good at something, and I knew I was good. Every time I stepped onstage, my entire body had this electric feeling, buzzing from my head to my toes. That’s how I felt onstage in Bloom, at least. But in New York, there were hundreds of young women just like me, all competing for the same role. It was a wake-up call. I was no longer buzzing. No longer happy. After dozens of auditions, I got the smallest of roles—smaller thananything I’d ever played before. “I’ve always thought theater was like playing dress-up, but that’s not how it felt when I was there,” I told her.
My mother looked at me as if she were reading me like a book. I’m not sure how long that moment lasted, but when she was finished, she took a quick breath and expelled it quietly. “Nannie, this is what we’re going to do.” She was in full mom-mode, even though she’d been great about giving me my independence once I was eighteen. “I’ve saved quite a bit of money. When I married your father, my mama told me to put away a couple of dollars here and a couple there. In case a time ever came when I needed to get out of a situation.”
“With Daddy?” I asked, surprised.
She waved her hand as if to erase whatever thoughts were rushing into my mind. “I realized long ago that wouldn’t be an issue. Your father isn’t perfect, but he tries. And he loves me. I’ve never for a moment questioned that.”
It struck me that Mama didn’t say she loved him too.
“The mill is for sale,” she finally said decisively. “We’re going to buy it.”
