Page 1 of The Blessings of Christmas
CHRISTMAS DREAMS AND SANTA SCHEMES
BY BARBARA LOHR
CHAPTER 1
The smell of fresh bread welcomed them when Sarah ushered Nathan and Justin into the back room of The Full Cup. Her cheeks and lips felt chapped, and she closed the door on the cold December day. “We finally made it.” She got busy unwinding the scarves that covered her little boys’ faces.
“I hate winter.” Yanking off his mittens, Nathan threw them on the floor.
“Nathan,” Sarah said, raising her voice over the rock music. She’d tackle that in a minute. “Please put those on the sink to dry.” With the heat in this room, it wouldn’t take long. Grumbling, her five year-old did as he was told while she tended to Justin.
Her three year-old stared up at her, eyes solemn and blonde hair upended when she whisked off his cap. “Thank you, Mommy.” He was way too serious for a boy his age.
She tousled his hair. “You’re welcome, handsome boy. Hang your jacket up, please. You too, Nathan.” Her voice rose. Her hands stayed on her hips until Nathan did as he was told.
Christmas was bearing down on them. The fragrance of pumpkin pies had barely faded from The Full Cup whenChristmas ads began to blare from the TV, glittering with holiday cheer.
Not for her. Not this Christmas.
But what about her boys? The war in a country far across the ocean meant nothing to them. But it had taken their daddy. Jamie would want Nathan and Justin to have a good Christmas. Whatever it took, they would get what they wanted. Sarah hitched up the jeans that wouldn’t button any more.
Emotional eating. She was all about it.
Now, the music. Ryan’s loud music throbbed in her ears, not exactly the fluffy stuff that would raise your sprits. Jamie’s younger brother would be deaf by the time he was thirty. “Turn the radio down!” she called out, slipping off her coat and hanging it on one of the hooks. Her day of babysitting for seven small children had gone well but left her exhausted. She’d formed the group with her friend Lindsay and other young mothers in Gull Harbor.
The oven clanged shut behind her. “The music, Ryan. Please.”
“Okay, boss lady.”
The teasing smile in Ryan’s voice wore on her like summer sand in her sandals. Sarah hated his nickname for her––a sure sign of his immaturity. She helped the boys off with their boots and snowpants. The music changed to a Christmas favorite about having “holly jolly” Christmas. Good luck with that but at least the volume had dropped. “Thank you, Ryan. Nathan and Justin, set your boots on the rug next to the door.”
The warmth of the room seeped into her bones. Usually her mother worked back here but the heavy trays had become too much. Mom had suggested that Ryan might help out if he had time. But they couldn’t afford to pay her brother-in-law, so it felt like begging. “All the cookies you can eat,” she’d joked when she brought it up.
“No problem,” Ryan had said, shifting his stance the way he did when his old injury bothered him. “Do you mind if I split the shift? Cookies in the morning and bread dough at night?”
“Of course not.” After all, he worked full time at Branson’s Motors. “I appreciate your help.”
He’d given her a lopsided grin. “This will be my Christmas present. Not the Porsche I had my eye on for you.”
Always kidding. “A Porsche,” she’d sputtered.
So far, Ryan had been reliable. Every morning he was here when she arrived and he closed up at night, driving up Red Arrow highway in between shifts to work at the garage. Jamie would be proud of him.
She’d just have to live with this for a few weeks. If it weren’t for the Christmas baking, she could handle the back work room alone. But her taxes were way overdue. She needed to keep the display cases full and the cash register ringing.
Staring at herself in the mirror above the coat hooks, Sarah wondered who this woman was. Her hair was a rats’ nest and dark circles smudged her eyes. Who had time for makeup? Fluffing her tangled curls, she caught sight of the image reflected in the mirror. “Oh, my.”
Muscles flexed under the gray T-shirt of the man hoisting trays from the oven. A mop of curly hair hid his face. Just for a moment her heart stopped.Jamie.How many times had she seen her husband like this, shuffling the trays like cards in his poker game with the guys? Her throat closed and a tear squeezed from her eye.
The man turned. Ryan.
Of course. Only Ryan.
“What is it?” He swept the damp hair from his forehead.
“Nothing.” She hoped he didn’t notice her damp eyes.
“I didn’t expect you back today. Usually you go straight home after picking up the boys.”
