| A Christmas Story |
Chapter 1 |
"Look, I told you—these cranberries are not fresh. I want my money back."
"And I told YOU—I’ll be happy to give you your money back, but I need to see your receipt. It’s store policy. Otherwise, how do we know you didn’t buy those last year and suddenly decide to cash them in for some fresher ones? Hmm? I mean, we sell only fresh cranberries. Those you brought in are positively rancid." The young clerk stared a hole through the obnoxious customer whose face was now blotchy from their rather testy encounter.
He wiped his brow with a dirty handkerchief then jammed it back into his coat pocket. "Miss, I demand to speak to your supervisor. Right now!"
"Fine," she said, slapping the bag of mushy berries back into his sweaty palm. "I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to talk with you when he gets back."
"And when will that be?"
"Next year. He’s on vacation. Look him up in the new millennium," she answered sarcastically while wiping down the glass over the scanner beside her register.
"Well, I never!"
A well-dressed lady stood patiently behind the man as he looked around, hoping to engage an audience. She raised her eyebrows, looking over the top of her glasses at the little man in front of her. "For heaven’s sake, it’s Christmas Eve. Is a two dollar bag of cranberries really worth all this fuss?"
He blew out an exasperated harumph. "Mind your own business, woman!"
At this, the woman straightened her back, shot a quick glance at the clerk, then cocked her head to one side. "This IS my business. You’re taking my time and you’re irritating me. So take your silly cranberries and hit the road, buster!"
The man dropped his stubbled chin, clutched his berries to his chest, turned on his heel and stomped out the door.
The refined customer and the surprised clerk made eye contact then burst into laughter. The tall girl behind the register kept laughing as she absently pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail. She shook her head when she finally stopped laughing. "Honestly, could you believe him? Must be a full moon out there tonight."
The lady, her beautiful blond hair woven into an elegant French braid, nodded her head in agreement. "Wasn’t he a trip? But I thought you handled him beautifully . . . Hannah," she said, noting the engraved nametag on the clerk’s dark green smock.
"You were completely polite until he got unreasonable. So don’t you give him a second thought. People like him live their whole lives just trying to aggravate the rest of us."
"I guess. What a scrooge! And just what I needed after such a long day. Does everyone wait to do their holiday grocery shopping on Christmas Eve? This place has been a zoo and I’m exhausted."
She scanned the lady’s purchase and bagged it. "Now you strike me as someone who’s had her shopping done for weeks. This," she said, holding up the bag, "must be a stocking stuffer for someone really special. Am I right?"
"You nailed it. My son is coming home tonight and I completely forgot his favorite candy. I know it’s silly—he’s 25. Not exactly a little boy any more. But it’s one of those little traditions and I couldn’t help myself. I hardly get to see him at all anymore. Got to spoil him when I can, right?"
Her smile faded as she noticed huge tears pooling in Hannah’s eyes. Instinctively, she reached across for the girl’s hand and patted it maternally. "Why, whatever is wrong? Was it something I said, dear?"
Hannah wiped her eyes with the back of her other hand.
"Oh no, really—it’s me. I’ve been so depressed all day. I mean . . . well it’s Christmas Eve and I’m stuck here for the holidays. I’m the assistant manager—this is just a part-time job while I’m in school. But Jim, my boss, he’s not exactly on vacation . . . he had an unexpected death in his family. He had no choice but to ask me to work through the holiday weekend. My whole family is away in Colorado on a skiing trip. I was supposed to go, but I just couldn’t do that to Jim. So here I am."
She took a deep breath and let it out. "Just being a wimp, I suppose."
"No, you’re not. There’s nothing worse than being separated from your family during Christmas. But surely you don’t have to work tomorrow, do you?" The woman’s eyes were filled with compassion and looked deeply into the younger eyes across from her.
"No, the store is closed for the day. Thank goodness! I don’t think I could have stood that."
The lady looked around, pleased that the store was empty. "I have a wonderful idea!" she said suddenly. Like an excited child, she asked, "What time do you get off?"
Hannah looked at the clock on the wall. "Actually, we’re closed now. I didn’t realize it was so late."
"Perfect! How would you like to join me for a Christmas Eve service at my church? It starts in about an hour. Then we always have a quiet dinner at home after the service. I would love for you to join us!"
Hannah shook her head emphatically. "Oh no. I mean, that’s really nice and all, but I just couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to impose on your family like that."
"Nonsense. I told you my son is coming home. He’d be thrilled to have someone his own age around. Especially someone as pretty as you!" she added with a wink.
Hannah could feel the warmth in her cheeks and knew she must be blushing. "I know you mean well, but I’m not really comfortable with matchmaking, if you know what I mean."
"Matchmaking? Who said anything about matchmaking! Although you are certainly a refreshing change from some of the bimbos he’s brought home from time to time."
A quick scenario played out in Hannah’s mind. "Mom, I’m home!" shouts the handsome son as he throws open the front door. "I want you to meet someone! Bambi, this is my mother. Mom, this is Bambi." His eyes turn to Hannah, seated on the sofa next to his mother. "And who is this? Picking up strays again, Mom?"
A chill ran down her back. "Oh, no, I just don’t think it’s a good idea."
"I simply won’t take no for an answer! I’ll go wait in my car out front. You close up, do whatever you have to do, then come on out when you’re ready. We have lots of time. We can even stop by your place if you’d like to change or freshen up." She rounded the end of the counter and gently looped her arm through Hannah’s. Her eyes were warm and inviting. "Please say you’ll come."
Suddenly the fatigue and stress overwhelmed Hannah. The thought of going home to her lonely apartment for Christmas Eve repulsed her. In a moment of sheer impulse, she answered, "Yes, yes I’d love to come. It’s really kind of you to invite me."
"Wonderful! Now just take your time and I’ll go on and pull my car right up by the front door. Oh, this is going to be wonderful!"
Hannah couldn’t help smiling at her enthusiasm. As she pulled out her keys to lock up, she had a thought. "Wait! I don’t even know your name! Who are you?
"Just call me Jackie. We’ll make all the introductions later. Now go!"
* * * * * * *
The church engulfed Hannah in a wave of sentiment that was overpowering. Soft candlelight danced across garlands of pine and ribbons of deep red. An endless sea of poinsettias covered the stairs leading up to the platform at the front of the small sanctuary, a brilliant contrast to the cream robes of the choir members now entering the loft. The crowded auditorium fell silent as the choir softly sang.
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel
Shall come to Thee, O Israel
Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel
Shall come to Thee, O Israel
Hannah closed her eyes, breathing in the peacefulness with unexpected joy. She felt a slight nudge on her arm, interrupting her thoughts. Sneaking a sidewise peek at her new friend, she looked into what must surely be the kindest face on earth. Tiny wrinkles gathered beside Jackie’s dancing eyes, her brows raised high in anticipation of the celebration surrounding them.
"I’m so glad you came, Hannah," she whispered. "We’re going to have such a good time!"
"Shhhh!" Jackie’s husband, Harold, scolded them trying hard to act stern. He had joined them at the church only moments before. He winked and looked back toward the front of the church. The rest of the service melted into an unforgettable memory. Hannah memorized it in detail. It ended all too soon as candles were passed to everyone while the entire congregation and choir sang Silent Night acapella.
"Where is that son of ours?" Harold asked, as he escorted Jackie and Hannah back to the car. "I was hoping he’d show up in time for at least part of the service."
"He’ll be here. He’s probably already home and digging into our dinner as we speak."
Hannah felt her heart flutter, still apprehensive about spending the evening in the home of these strangers . . . no, they weren’t strangers. They were far too nice for that. Still, it was Christmas Eve. And she wasn’t at all sure about meeting their son.
"Hannah, you’ll just love our boy. But I have to warn you—he can be a heart breaker . . ."
Hannah felt the flutter in her stomach wrap into a strangling knot. "Uh . . . did you say heart breaker?"
"Oh you know what I mean—he’s got his Daddy’s charm—"
"—and his mother’s smile," Harold finished. "But I’ll keep an eye on him for you, Hannah. Don’t worry. One wrong move and I’ll—"
"Oh right," Jackie chided. "You never laid a hand on him his entire life! He never got a whoopin’ unless I gave it to him, thank you very much. But of course, that’s why he worships the ground I walk on . . . "
Harold stepped between them as they walked across the parking lot. He draped his arms around their shoulders pulling them into a tight group hug. "That he does, I must admit. But stop boring Hannah with all that hype. Hannah? You just come on home with us and relax, all right?"
Her face mirrored the uncertainty she felt, despite the lopsided grin she managed to fake. The accompanying laugh was pretty lame too. What in the world have I gotten myself into? Oh dear . . .
* * * * * * *
Part 2