Page 130 of The Blessings of Christmas
“That's what she tells me too.” Spencer gave Victoria’s mother a cringe-worthy wink. “Some of the guys from school are going over to Ibiza. Sounds like a party I can’t miss.”
Mama’s shock was evident. Her plan might be derailed. The poor girls in Ibiza. “And miss Palm Beach? You would have lots of chances to party there––cocktail parties, marvelous food, music––all the traditions we love.”
“Same old, same old.” By now Spencer was squirming in his chair. “I have a different kind of holiday planned, Mrs. Pomeroy.” His own mother’s face had turned pale. Did she know of his plans?
Leaning back, he grinned. “I'm looking forward to watching football with the guys and making some bets at the tables. Stuff like that.”
Augusta’s eyebrows lifted. If there was one thing that she did not like, it was gambling. The air had gone out of the room. Victoria almost felt sorry for Mama. Not long after that, Spencer excused himself and left. His mother turned down coffee, saying she’d had a long day. Mr. Hutchinson gave an equally unconvincing excuse and they were soon gone.
Folding her napkin neatly at her plate, Mama walked out to the kitchen to talk to Maribelle. Victoria was thrilled to haveDaddy all to herself. “So tell me about this clinic, sweetheart,” he said. “You say this young man's doing good work there?”
“He is, Daddy.” Since her father seemed genuinely interested, she went into stories about the people she saw in the clinic. The mother with her asthmatic child, who couldn’t pay her last ER bill. The homeless man who needed his diabetic feet checked. The number of children coming for immunizations.
“And what kind of volunteer work do you do?”
“Believe it or not, I began by washing dishes.” When Daddy burst into a shocked roar, Victoria joined in. But then he settled down to business. “Can you get me some numbers? You know, expense figures. What it takes to run the clinic––that kind of thing. But then I suppose this young man's father may already have taken this on.”
How amazing that Daddy would assume that people her age would immediately turn to their parents. Not that help wasn’t welcome. “Derek seems pretty proud. I think he’s in this on his own. But he’s enlisting help from other doctors.”
“Sounds like he’s a hard-working young man.” Daddy smiled with understanding. “How well I recall starting out. I imagine he has a family to support.”
“Oh, Dr. Darling’s not married.” Moving right along. “Can you do me a favor, Daddy?”
“Maybe. Depends.” But his smile told her that was a yes.
“I’ve written an article about the clinic, interviewing Dr. Darling so that people would know about his work.”
Although she didn’t think it was possible, she’d surprised her father. “You wrote an article?”
“Yes, I did.” Basically she had a very rough draft but no need to go into detail. “Any ideas about who I should contact at theSweetwater Gazetteabout running it?”
“No problem. I’ll give Reginald a call in the morning. You’ve met Reginald Osborne, the editor. He’d probably be glad to have your article.”
“Oh, thank you, Daddy.” Although she liked to be independent, there was definitely a benefit in having a father with connections.
Before her mother returned from the kitchen, Victoria escaped. Sure, she felt guilty about the gowns covering her bed upstairs. But she didn’t want to think about Christmas at Palm Beach, although she’d have to straighten things out soon with Mama.
Holiday lights brightened the houses, making Sweetwater Creek look like one of those holiday villages. When she reached the square, crowds had gathered at the Advent wreath. She rolled down her window to catch the Christmas carols floating on the crisp night air. Parking her car in back of her shop, she hurried across the street. Making her way through the crowd, she finally found Emily, Bryn and Josie. While they sang “O, Little Town of Bethlehem,” she felt peace settle over her. This Christmas was turning out to be very different than any other. But it might just be the best.
Had the whole world changed.
Or had she?
CHAPTER 10
When Victoria was a little girl, her mama had signed her up for swimming lessons at the club. Victoria hated it. She never took to it like her brother Randall, who must have been born with gills. Jumping into the water was downright scary. How well she recalled standing at the side of the pool, shivering in the chilly morning air. But then she’d take a breath, pinch her nose and jump. Kicking up from the bottom of the pool, she’d flail her arms about until she was swimming. The lessons were one thing. But she had to do it to believe that she could actually succeed.
That’s just how she felt getting ready to call Reginald Osborne. She’d practiced what she wanted to say at least five times the night before. This whole idea of writing an article for the newspaper was stupid. Why had she started this? Sure, she’d written papers in college, but she never even considered having her stuff published.
Still, she picked up her phone and dialed the number Daddy had sent her. When Mr. Osborne picked up the phone, Victoria rattled off her pitch. Breathless by the time she finished, she waited for the inevitable rejection.
“Sounds good. Send it over,” he said in a rough, gravelly voice. “I’ll take a look.”
“Today?” Her voice squeaked with surprise. She hadn’t expected such a positive response.
“Thought you said you had it ready?”
“Oh, I do.” While her mind whirled, he gave her his email address.
