Page 131 of The Blessings of Christmas
Her fingers felt numb and her breath was coming in short gasps by the time they ended the call. This all felt surreal, kind of like the first time she washed dishes at the clinic but a lot better.
Although she’d intended to go to the clinic that morning, she had to get this piece to the newspaper. And it had to be good so she sat down at her desk in her apartment office. Going over her notes, she chuckled over that impromptu interview. Actually, she felt proud of herself.
And she’d pitched the clinic to her father. Dinner last night hadn’t been a total loss. Daddy had seemed interested. Now all she had to do was get some numbers from Derek. But she didn’t know what her father was going to do with that information and didn’t want to get Derek’s hopes up.
Taking a crack at her rough draft, she was surprised when it flowed easily. She understood the clinic now. The photos she’d taken that day were there on her computer. The one of Dr. D and Big Mac was now her screen saver. Their smiles greeted her every morning when she turned it on.
Was this how journalists worked? Tapping out pieces and sending them off? Reading over her words, she smoothed out some areas. Changed a few things and did one more spell check. At the bottom she indicated which shots she had available. Then she put her name and the word count at the top, attached it to a quick email and pressed Send.
By the time she finished, it was almost ten. She could feel the trucks rumbling into the alley below her office window. Feeling positively twitchy after sending in the article, she jumped up, grabbed her tote and ran downstairs. Maisy was standing at the back door, directing traffic. “No clinic today?” she asked as Victoria dodged around her and headed down the hall.
“Nope. Had other things to do.” No way would she mention the piece on the clinic. That way, when Mr. Osborne turned it down, no one would know. Part of her felt this was a lost cause. How many times had adults smiled and agreed to something, from buying Girl Scout Cookies or raffle tickets, just because of her father? And she’d never suspected it. How naive she’d been, thinking they were really interested in her latest project.
Dropping off her tote and teal green jacket, she charged out to the front. The tree lights cast a cheery glow in the room. Coming through with a tray full of gingerbread men, Maisy breezed around her.
“Everything looks great, Maisy. Nice job arranging the mugs and other gifts.”
Victoria’s Pantry was doing well. Last year at this time, Victoria would never have thought this could ever happen. Following college graduation, she’d come home with no clue about what to do with her liberal arts degree. Daddy suggested working at his office, but there was really no work to do. He had Marion, his assistant, and she kept his work life in order. Victoria ended up playing solitaire on the computer he’d assigned to her.
But when Minerva vacated her space on the square where Minerva’s Collections had stood for years, Daddy quickly made plans. “This town could use a coffee shop,” he’d said, bringing Jackson Hart into the picture for renovations. “If we don’t do it, one of the national chains will move in.”
And so Victoria’s Pantry was born. Victoria suggested the name. At the time, she had no idea that the name implied she would herself cook many of the products sold there. Emily had been a huge help, figuring out the menu. Today the shop smelled like cinnamon, cardamom and pine. She loved it. “I think this might be the best Christmas ever,” she told Maisy.
“Are you looking forward to Palm Beach?” Maisy slid a tray of gingerbread men into the case.
She shook her head. “Not this year.” The dinner with Spencer Hutchinson and his parents had been the deciding factor. “Hanging out with the folks and their friends doesn’t excite me this year. I’d rather be here.”
“But the shop won’t be open on Christmas, right?” Maisy looked horrified.
“Oh, no. Don’t worry. I don’t know where I’ll be that day.” But she was beginning to think that the clinic might need her help. And she wanted to see the patients open their gifts. Doing a quick check, she saw that some of the Christmas Wish trees had disappeared. Her momentary flush of happiness took a quick dive. Where were the presents? The red tree skirt was noticeably bare.
“I’ll be right back. Time to check my emails.” But first she poured herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Her eyes scanned the high-end appliances––all stuff the clinic would love to have. Would Daddy decide to help the clinic? How would Derek feel about that? Anytime she’d mentioned Daddy’s name, she’d gotten this weird vibe from Derek. But maybe she was imagining things.
She’d just placed her Christmas coffee mug on a coaster when her email pinged. Glancing up she saw the name Reginald Osborne as the sender. Her buoyant mood deflated.
Was anything worse than beginning the week with a polite rejection? Trying to calm her jittery stomach, she clicked.
Your piece on the Open Hearth Clinic is scheduled to run this Sunday or next. Please forward any photos you have for the article. Thank you for submitting.
Reginald Osborne.
The air whooshed from her lungs. Staring at the words, Victoria rocked back in her chair. She couldn't remember another time when she’d felt this excited. Well, besides the moment she met Derek Darling.
Thumbing through her phone, she found the photos she’d taken that day. Attaching them to a brief email, she hit reply and sent them to her editor.
Her editor.She liked the sound of that.
Victoria felt twitchy with excitement. Grabbing her mug, she dashed back to the front. Activity hummed in the main room with Maisy and Darla scooping and packaging as fast as they could. Her shop. She loved it.
Eyes circling the tea room, she noticed a lot of unfamiliar faces. Mothers with small children. A group of young women had their laptops out. Were they having a meeting? Two tables were filled with older women who seemed very interested in the tree. The weather was still mild outside. She made a mental note to talk to Maisy about ordering three additional tables and chairs for an outside area, along with some planters.
One of the older women approached her. “Hello, I’m Mavis. Charlotte told me about your wonderful tree with Christmas wishes.”
She glanced over. Only three Christmas wishes hung on the tree. Where had the rest gone? She hoped that Maisy and Darla hadn’t allowed children to take them off and color on them. People were counting on those gifts. Maybe she should have kept a record of the wishes and who took them.
“Those are people’s Christmas wishes,” she said softly. “If you bring the gifts in, I’ll make sure the people get them.”
“That sounds wonderful.” With a pleased smile, the woman approached the tree, beckoning to her friends. The holiday season always brought the best out in people. If you just gave them a chance, they would come through. She was counting on them.
