Page 93 of The Blessings of Christmas
Coming closer, Maisy took a whiff. “Okay, let’s buy one of those things you plug in. One that smells like spruce or pine.”
“Wouldn’t that just be more fake stuff?”
“Welcome to the modern world.” Maisy was becoming exasperated with her.
“Maybe the gingerbread men cookies that are coming tomorrow will help.” Maisy glanced at the list next to their old-fashioned register. “Cinnamon bread too. That should perk up the place.”
Going to the window with Victoria’s Pantry scrolled in white script, Victoria glanced at the square with disgust. “Last night the crews strung white lights in the trees. When it gets dark, it’s a bloody fairyland out there. Every decorating service is probably booked. And my mother will never share her own.” Fighting panic, she twirled a length of hair around her fingers.
Maisy gasped. “Why not? After all, she's your mama.”
“You've met my mother, right? Franz is sorely needed. She entertains endlessly over the holiday season. Well, until we head for Palm Beach.”
“When will you be leaving?”
“Probably the week before Christmas.” Victoria could tell from Maisy’s expression that her employee wasn’t thrilled. ThePalm Spring Christmas was one more thing she hadn’t thought through. Could Maisy and Darla handle the shop alone?
Granted, it wouldn't be too hard for the two to fill the cases. But Emily, who had been supplying the delicious, healthy salads was slacking off. Victoria wasn’t much of a cook herself. Usually her friend could be counted on to help. But since she married Jackson Hart, she was MIA. The pantry pipeline rumored that she was pregnant. Emily had left her recipe cards. That would have to do. Could Maisy and Darla whip up quinoa salads with red tomatoes for color and orzo with green broccoli?
Circling back to the pathetic fake tree, Victoria whisked her fingers over the dry, artificial branch and sniffed. “Smells like polyester.”
Biting her bottom lip, Maisy turned to the clock on the wall. “Okay, I’m going to be late for the movie. Can we make some decisions?”
Grabbing the bag from the Five and Dime, Victoria rummaged around until she dug out a gold garland that dripped from her fingers in a glittery trail. “This will have to do.”
Grabbing one end, Maisy flashed a smile. “Perfect. Very Victorian.” Fifteen minutes later, gold gleamed from the tree and Maisy left.
The song “All I Want for Christmas is You” came on. Her momentary satisfaction hit a wall. Where was her own “someone”? She didn’t have time to date. The shop kept her busy. Besides, the supply of men in Sweetwater Creek was limited. Sometimes she wondered if coming back home after college had been a good move.
Going back to the window, she glanced out at the square. Her shop was one of many that boxed in the large grassy expanse that had been there since the 1800s. In the center stood a three-tiered fountain with a white gazebo to one side.Beautifully landscaped, the square was a place to wander and relax.
Dusk fell so early in December. As she watched, tiny lights blazed to life, transforming the square into a winter wonderland. Under the trees and around the bushes, the maintenance department had arranged white wire deer, outlined with lights. The South wasn’t graced with a white Christmas, but they sure had the holiday lights, draped from tall trees to bushes.
Reinvigorated, Victoria turned back to her pathetic Christmas tree. Maybe she should stop at one of the lots on the edge of town. Buy a real tree and chop it up somehow. But the idea of jamming a tree into her tango red Audi convertible turned her stomach. What if she scratched the paint job? The car had been a graduation present from her parents. Daddy would go ballistic.
Then an idea struck her. Was she brilliant or what? Dashing around the shop, she turned out all the lights except the ones in the window. Back in her office, she grabbed her tote, locked up and zipped upstairs to her apartment.
At first she’d considered her new home as sheer good luck. But the place sure needed a lot of work. The four-room apartment was 1980s vintage, when harvest gold appliances had reigned. Her mother had almost fainted when she came for an initial walk-through. But Daddy assured her that Coastal Homes, one of Jackson’s companies, would make it all right.
After three months of work, the whole place was totally transformed. Modern light fixtures were suspended over Carrera marble counters. Stainless steel appliances were set off by tasteful gray cupboards. The walls were Naugatuck gray––a seasonal sensation, or so the decorator had said. Victoria left the black and white tile floor for a vintage touch.
Rummaging under the kitchen sink, she found the toolbox that Emily, Josie and Bryn had given her as a housewarming gift. Inside were the basic screw drivers, super glue, duct tape and a compact red saw with a flip-out blade. All three girls swore by this handy little device. Victoria never thought she’d use it. But tonight? This little saw could be just the ticket.
Popping the saw into her tote, she checked the front window. Since it was dinnertime, there weren’t many people in the square. Victoria’s skin prickled. What would she do if she were caught in the act? Creeping down the stairs as if someone could see her, she snuck out her back door, the tote bumping against her leg.
When she came around the corner of her building, she glanced both ways. Nope. No one around to see her desecration. Creeping across the street, she kept on the tiptoes of her red boots. But how ridiculous. No one was around to hear her. A chilly December wind swept across the square and she zipped up her red leather jacket.
The breeze sent dried leaves spinning from the liveoaks, and she jumped at the scratchy sound when they hit the walkways made of white oyster shells. The Sweetwater Creek Rotary had set up the traditional crèche set near the gazebo. The life-size figurines had been holiday decorations ever since Victoria could remember. Members of the church stepped into the display as live Mary and Joseph the weekend before Christmas, along with real animals. When she was little, her mother would never let her touch the live donkeys or sheep. But when she wasn’t looking, Victoria would work her tiny fingers through the low fence to feel their rough coats.
The rich scent of pine lured her onto a path leading to the back. Under towering magnolia trees sat plump evergreens.This is more like it. She snapped open her saw.
One of her I-am-woman-hear me-roar moments flooded Victoria’s veins with power. Smiling, she could picture Maisy’s surprise when she opened the shop tomorrow and was hit with this intoxicating smell. Should she take off her jacket? No time. Her pulse raced and her high-heeled boots sank into the pine straw as she braced herself.
Was her manicure going to hold up? Flexing her fingers, Victoria wished she’d worn gloves. The bush felt sticky when she grabbed it. But she didn’t have time to run back to her apartment. People often strolled through the square after dinner. She had to be quick.
Casting a furtive glance left and right, she gripped a branch and made her first cut.Hmm. Not bad at all. The outer bark gave easily. A thrill spiraled through her as the branch fell free. Go, Victoria!
Tossing the limb behind her, she moved to another bush. If she spread the love around, no one would notice. Or if they did, they might assume the Park Department had been trimming. The heap of fragrant branches grew behind her as she worked. Before long, sap coated her fingers. Sticky, but it smelled so good. That’s when she became distracted.
