Page 39 of The Christmas Keepsake
“You okay here by yourself?” He flicked his gaze around the room and then at the ceiling. “You’re not scared of the theater’s ghost?”
Mallory let out an unexpected laugh. “I don’t believe in ghosts. I do believe in the living though. To include you.”
“And I believe in Mallory Blue. In fact, the girl I remember used to love this theater. She’s half the reason I came here every day after school.”
“Really?” Mallory asked.
Hollis shook his head. “No.”
The moment of silence was just long enough to make Mallory feel foolish for thinking he was being real.
“She’s the entire reason I spent every afternoon here.” He stepped out and closed the door before Mallory could respond. She wasn’t sure she could say anything anyway. She was speechless.
Then, as if maybe there was a ghost in the theater after all, her bag beside her fell over and Nan’s journal slid out. Instead of packing as planned, Mallory sat in the dark and opened the book to where she’d left off. Her focus was fragmented though, split between the journal’s pages, her mixed emotions about Hollis, and the possibility that there might be a ghost in the attic.
The Wooden Heart Ornament
The Wooden Heart ornament is in a small pine box with brass hinges. This ornament is to be hung sixth from the top of your tree.
Here’s the story behind it.
It wasn’t until after my mother used most of her savings to her name to purchase the old mill to be my theater that we realized it was a hazard. Even standing on the porch of the building meant risking your life because the place was all one breath from crumbling. My mother cried and so did I. Here I was, pregnant and single. Unemployed and the reason that my mother’s life savings was gone. When I thought things were finally looking up, they got worse by a landslide.
I’m not sure who told Ralph about the theater, but there are no secrets in Bloom—not for long at least. Ralph was still being weird around me, not that I could blame him.
“I’ll rebuild the entire building myself,” he told my mother. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
“I can’t pay…” she said.
“I wouldn’t let you anyway.” He didn’t hesitate. Somewhere between the time I’d been gone, he’d grown from an almost-man to a full-blown man. A good one too. Someone else’s man. “I’ll do it free of charge.”
“You’re trying to win my daughter back?” my mother asked, suspicious as ever.
“There are no conditions to me helping you and Nan. Nan and I may be over, but I still care about her. Let me help.”
My mother agreed, and she made sure I knew I didn’t owe Ralph anything. I didn’t even owe it to him to tellhim he was the father of my baby. I didn’t want him to feel stuck with me. I knew that if he found out I was carrying our child, he would come back to me. I also knew that I had hurt him. It was a mess of my own making. A wrecking ball of my own choosing.
The following week, Ralph and a few of his friends showed up at the old mill and tore it down. They made a party of it, a bunch of young men taking out their worries and stress by pulling a place apart bit by bit. But then they built something new. Something greater. It took three months of them all working after hours when they weren’t at their paying jobs. They worked hard and for free until my very own theater was complete. The Bloom Community Theater. By the time it was done, I was wearing baggy clothing. I’m sure people were talking.
As I looked out on the building that had grown along with my belly, my eye caught a smooth wood piece. Smooth as stone. Perfectly carved. My mind immediately went to earlier that day, around noon, when Ralph had sat on the bottom step, whittling a piece of scrap wood. He always had a pocketknife handy. It wasn’t easy to bend over, not these days, but I lowered myself to sit on that same step, and I reached for the wood piece in the shape of a heart. Before I knew it, I was smiling, my thumb running over the trinket that Ralph had left in the dirt. It felt like a treasure.
Picking it up, I studied it. The size. The weight.
“Looks like you found it.”
I looked up, surprised to find Ralph standing there, watching me. “Oh. Yeah.” Without thinking, I lifted the wooden heart carving toward him.
He pushed it back in my direction. “You keep it.”
This is a moment I’ve often looked back on.
“Thank you for this.” Tears flooded my eyes, and the flood of emotion brought with it a wave of nausea. I covered my mouth with one hand. I probably looked green because the next thing I knew, Ralph was holding out a mint.
“Want one?” he asked.
“No. No, no, no.” I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away, feeling the bitter taste of bile in my mouth. You would have thought he’d dangled something vile in front of me.
When I opened my eyes, I saw his concern.
