Christmas Wishes (9 page)

“L
et me get
this straight. You’re all coming here, to my house for Thanksgiving? You’re going to sit around my table for a holiday family gathering, knowing I’m the only one of your children who didn’t learn to cook?”

As much as Mitch loved his mother, at the moment he wanted to reach through the phone and throttle her.

“It’s your turn to host it, Mitch. Everyone else has had a turn. Several turns. You’re the only one who’s never hosted it. When you lived in Chicago, it was understandable. But now that you’re in Zutphen, in Eric’s house, you can take your turn hosting a holiday. What better time to have a housewarming? Besides, you won’t have to worry about cooking. I’ll bring the turkey and your sister and brothers will each bring something to go with it. All you have to do is supply the house.”

“
You do realize that I’m a single father, and that this house barely looks lived in, right? I have absolutely no talent for decorating, and no desire to learn.”

“
Not a problem. I’ve got the whole week off from my job, so I’ll come over and help you get your house all spiffed up.”

“
Mom, that’s not necessary.”

“
Really? Do you have a girlfriend who’s doing it for you? I heard you’ve been seeing someone.”

“
I’m not dating anyone, Mom.”

“
Eric and Laurie’s former neighbor told them you had pizza with a pretty girl and her son in the Pizza Barn a week or so ago.”

“
He’s not her son and it wasn’t a date. We just shared a booth because the place was crowded and they would have had to wait.”

“
Did you invite her to join us for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“
Of course not.” Mitch rolled his eyes. Rita Carson was an unstoppable force at times. Too bad the local grapevine had reached her ears.

“
You should invite her. I hear she’s taken Angie under her wings.”

“
The former neighbor again?”

“
No, your cousin Tess. She lives in the next town over but she still shops at Zylstra’s Grocery.”

Mitch closed his eyes and massaged his forehead.
“Sophie is directing the Sunday School Christmas pageant, so she sees Angie twice every week.”

“
And a few times in between, I’ve heard. Well, if she’s not redecorating your house, then I’ll be there next Monday morning. See you!” She disconnected before Mitch could get another word in.

He stood at the kitchen counter, staring at his phone.
What just happened here?

“
Is Grandma Carson coming over?” Angie called to him from her seat on the couch where she’d been watching Saturday morning cartoons.

“
Looks like it, sweetness. She wants to decorate the house and have everybody come over here for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“
Goodie!” The little girl hopped down and skipped toward him. “Can I help her? When is she coming?”

“
I bet she’ll be happy for your help. She’ll be here on Monday.”

“
Oh. How many more days is that?”

“
Two more.”

“
Is she going to decorate my room, too?”

“
If you ask her to, I bet she will. She might not have time this week, but she’d be happy to help you.”

Angie wrinkled her nose.
“Can I ask Miss Sophie to help me decorate my room instead?”

“
Sophie? Why? Don’t you like the way Grandma’s house looks?”

“
It’s okay. And I think she’ll make our living room and kitchen look nice. But I want Sophie to help me with my room because… because… I don’t know. I like her. She always looks so pretty, and I think she’d make my room look pretty, too. And she said purple was her favorite color, too. Please? Will you call her? If Miss Sophie helps me decorate my room before Grandma gets here, then I won’t have to tell Grandma she doesn’t need to do it for me. And then she won’t be sad that I don’t want her to do it.”

Mitch had no argument for that. Besides, after the news he
’d received the day before, he needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. He looked up Sophie’s number and dialed. If she truly needed more work, maybe she’d be willing to put in a few hours as an interior decorator.

~~~~

“What do you
mean, you’re in jail?” Melinda Billingsworth cleared her throat and straightened her spine, resuming the polished, cultured image she’d worked so hard to achieve.

“
You wanted proof the guy was a lousy father, and I tailed him. I almost froze to death sittin’ in my car and watching him. He had a few hot kisses with a local girl, but he wasn’t doin’ nothin’ you could use against him. I stood in the bushes while he took his daughter out for pizza. The police caught me there and warned me to mind my own business. I figured the only way the guy would look like a neglectful dad was if the girl got herself kidnapped, so I tried. How was I supposed to know that the school had a list of names they could release each kid to? The secretary went to check, and I left. But she got my license number and they tracked me down. I’ll need to add my bail to your expenses.”

“
You’ll do nothing of the kind. I hired you to get evidence that Mitchell Carson is not fit to raise my granddaughter. I expected you to have more sense than to walk into a public building and take her.”

“
I would have just nabbed her, but the kid is never alone. The dad is always with her when she’s outside. He takes her to school and picks her up. If he goes to the store, she goes with him. I tell you, the guy watches his kid like a hawk. So I figured I’d go up to the school and tell them her dad was in an accident and I was sent to take her there to see him. It didn’t work.”

“
I will pay you for your expenses up to this point and nothing more. You can consider yourself dismissed from this job.” She disconnected before Duncan could argue.

Melinda knew she would probably end up paying the fool
’s bail. But it was clear she would have to do her own dirty work. The holidays were coming up, and that bohemian her daughter had married was probably busy shooting photographs for people. If she played her cards right, she could probably gather some evidence of neglect.

And if she couldn
’t find any evidence, she’d just have to create some.

She went to her walk-in closet and pulled out an old photo album. The pages had already started to yellow, and she wondered if she should have her secretary find someone to put the photos in one of those new photo-safe albums. But right now she found comfort in looking at the images of her precious daughter. Her baby girl. The daughter who should have been her ticket to the international jet-set.

Sarah had been her pride and joy. She’d been educated in the finest schools, and thanks to Geoffrey’s connections, she had met and charmed Chicago’s elite. Melinda gently touched the photos and mementos of her daughter’s life: report cards from school, programs from piano recitals, and certificates of appreciation from charities she’d worked with. She’d been on her way to becoming a true lady — a member of the American nobility.

Sarah
’s position as a news anchor on the evening news had made her a household name. At one time she’d dated the son of a state senator, and Melinda had held her breath, waiting for news of an engagement. But Mitch Carson had swept Sarah off her feet and they’d married within the year. Melinda had been furious and had told her daughter she would neither attend the wedding nor pay for any of it. But her husband had overridden her. The fool had actually approved of Mitch as a son-in-law.
“Nothing wrong with a man who works hard,”
he’d said when she’d voiced her objections. Mitch came from a hard-working, honest family, and as far as Geoffrey was concerned, that was more important than having money or fame. What mattered was that he loved Sarah and would be loyal to her.

Melinda sniffed as she skimmed over the pages with Sarah
’s engagement announcements and wedding invitation. The only good thing to come from that marriage was Angela. She looked so much like Sarah it made her heart ache. And Sarah had taught her well, too. She had looked like a little lady at Sarah’s memorial service. That father of hers, on the other hand, had embarrassed her with his choice of apparel. He’d worn a suit, but it hadn’t fit him well and was at least two years old. She wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he’d borrowed it from someone. He hadn’t bothered to shave off his beard, either. He’d looked like a wild mountain man. There was no way the unsophisticated boor should be allowed to raise a lovely flower like her granddaughter.

“
Melinda, where are you?”

She put the album back in its box and replaced it in the closet. Geoffrey had never understood her
plans for Sarah. Best to keep him in the dark. She’d make her travel arrangements and keep them to herself.

S
ophie dragged the
last of the grocery bags into the kitchen and set her hands on the counter, leaning against it until she caught her breath. Cooking for the four of them was no problem, but gathering enough food for the entire Gardner clan was a bigger challenge. Since their parents had retired and moved to a small condo near Lake Michigan, Joanie had taken over hosting the family holidays. But due to little Abbie’s arrival, it was up to Sophie to plan and prepare most of the food for Thanksgiving. Mom Gardner would bring desserts, and their brother and his wife usually brought snacks, but Sophie would cook the main course and several side dishes.

Joanie and Dave had left for the morning with the kids to visit Dave
’s parents. With everyone out of the house, Sophie had decided it was the perfect time to get the shopping done. Unfortunately it seemed the rest of Zutphen had had the same idea. Shopping had taken twice as long as it should have.

Before she left for the store, she
’d cleared out a large space in the refrigerator. She’d found all sorts of half-eaten leftovers that she’d thrown away to make room for the twenty-pound turkey. Now she just had to wrestle the monstrous bird into the space she’d created.

She
’d propped open the refrigerator door and reached for the turkey when her phone rang. Sighing, she closed the door and checked her phone. The display showed an unfamiliar number. Was it a telemarketer? She debated a moment then decided to answer. If it was a poll or something she didn’t want to participate in, she could always hang up.

“
Hi, Sophie.”
Mitch. Why does my tummy do somersaults whenever I hear his voice?

“
Hi, Mitch. What’s up?”
Did my voice just squeak? I probably sound like a teenager.

“
I’m really sorry to bug you about this, but Angie was adamant she needed you.”

“
Angie? Is she all right? What happened?” Something in Mitch’s voice raised the hairs on her neck, and she gripped the phone tightly.

“
She’s fine. She just wants your help decorating her room. My mother is coming down from Muskegon on Monday to get the house ready for our family Thanksgiving, but for her own room, Angie would rather have your help. She says your taste is more like hers. If you can’t, I understand. I know you’ve got the pageant and everything…”

Is this just an excuse to get me there? Maybe he can’t tell me what’s really wrong because he doesn’t want to talk about it in front of Angie.
“I’d love to help. Does she want to have her room done before Thanksgiving?”

“
Well, only if you’ve got time. I told her you’ve got work and writing to do.”

“
I don’t have to work at the rink until this evening. And I can do the writing any time. Is Angie available today? I can come over and make some plans with her and maybe we can get some shopping done this afternoon.”

“
Aw, Sophie, you’re a lifesaver. When will you be here?”

“
I’ve got to put groceries away and then I’ll be right over.”
Yep, something is up. He sounds way too relieved about me coming.

They disconnected and Sophie returned to taking care of the food. For some reason the huge turkey didn
’t seem as heavy as it had a few minutes earlier. She made quick work of putting away the groceries. Mitch and Angie needed her, and she had no intention of letting them down.

~~~~

Mitch met Sophie
at the door. He pulled her into the mudroom and leaned toward her. Sophie’s heart began to race, but then she noted his bloodshot eyes and the disheveled state of his hair and clothes. He spoke in a low voice, and she listened intently.

“
Listen, Sophie, I want you to know something before you talk to Angie. I got a call from the school secretary yesterday. Some strange man came and tried to take Angie out of school.”

Sophie
’s hand went to her mouth and she stifled her gasp. “Oh, no. Who would do something like that?”

“
Some lowlife who’s working for someone else. Fortunately the school has a policy that they won’t release a child to anyone unless the parents have signed permission for that person to take them. The secretary didn’t recognize the man so she asked him for his name and said she’d have to check Angie’s permission forms. When she went to look them up, he left. But she saw his car pulling out of the parking lot and reported his license number to the police. Then she called me.”

Sophie
’s mind spun. If anything happened to Angie, she didn’t think she could bear it. “Kathy Sikkema is a sharp lady. She’s Pastor Sikkema’s wife. Thank goodness she prevented him from taking her! Have they found the man yet?”

“
They have, since Kathy got a good look at the car and got the license number. But he hasn’t said anything yet about why he tried to take her or who he’s working for. Whoever paid him might try again. I’m going to keep a close eye on her until we find out. I’d like to keep her home from school, but that would only scare her. The principal has assigned an extra teacher’s aide to her classroom and she and the teacher will keep a close eye on her at all times.”

“
Maybe it would be better if I don’t take her shopping,” Sophie suggested.

“
I’d feel better if you both stayed here, but she’s getting pretty antsy. I haven’t let her out of my sight since yesterday. I even had a campout with her in my office last night just so I’d have an excuse to keep her with me all night.” He sighed. “I don’t want Angie to know what’s going on, but I think she’s starting to suspect something’s wrong. If you go anywhere, could you stick to the local shops instead of going to the mall?”

Not for the first time, Sophie
’s heart warmed at Mitch’s obvious love for his daughter. “Of course. And I can text you every once in awhile to let you know where we are and that everything’s okay.”

“Thanks. And maybe—”

“Miss Sophie! I’m so glad you can help me. Daddy said you might be too busy, but I knew you’d come. Look what I found.” Angie stood at the entrance of the mudroom. Sophie and Mitch glanced at each other, wondering how much the girl had heard, but her sunny chatter continued as she turned and raced to her room. Sophie removed her boots and followed the unusually animated little girl. She remembered being that excited about company when she was younger.

“
Daddy had all these pictures in a box, and he said I could have them. I thought you could help me hang them up. Do you think they’ll look nice on my walls?”

Sophie looked at the piles of photos fanned out on the white bedspread. There were several pictures of Angie with her father, and some of Angie with an older couple she assumed to be her grandparents. They were in a canoe, Grandma in the front, Grandpa in the back, and Angie, wearing a bright orange life vest. The rugged man in the picture reminded her of Mitch.

Angie confirmed her suspicions. “That’s me with Grandma and Grandpa Carson. They took me camping last summer.” She gestured to the next pile, which had formal studio portraits. In one, Angie sat in a tailored dress with a well-dressed couple. “This is me with Grandma and Grandpa — I mean Nana and Poppy.” A third pile contained publicity shots of Sarah Lester, the television personality. Why would Angie have so many pictures of a television news anchor?

The answer hit her like a punch to the gut.
Sarah Lester was Angie’s mother.

The resemblance was there, now that she thought about it. Sarah definitely resembled the woman in the studio portrait. And Angie had the same blonde hair and blue eyes shining with intelligence.
Mitch was married to a television news anchor. What on earth would he see in a plain country girl like me? Good thing I’ve got plans to leave.
But somehow, those plans didn’t seem so exciting right now.

“
These are great pictures, sweetie. We should get some frames for them so we can hang them on your walls.”

“
Can we get white frames so they match my room?”

“
Sure, we can do that. What else would you like? Sophie looked around the girl’s room and spotted her dolls sitting on the floor in a neat row against the wall. “Maybe we could get a special shelf for some of your dolls? And a little rocking chair?” When Angie nodded in agreement she pulled her notebook out of her pocket and started scribbling down their ideas.

She didn
’t notice the voices in the next room until one rose to a screech.

“
You can’t be serious about raising my granddaughter in this — this hovel!”

Sophie looked up to see Angie
’s excitement had disappeared, replaced by a look of wariness.

“
Nana’s here. And she’s mad at Daddy again.”

Sophie wasn
’t sure what to do. Angie certainly didn’t sound happy at the prospect of seeing the person. Should she leave? Or should she and Angie hide in the bedroom and hope the woman went away?

“
Nana? Is that your grandma?” Angie nodded. Not one ounce of pleasure lit the girl’s face. “Were you expecting her to come?”

“
I don’t think so. Daddy woulda told me. And I woulda dressed up, ‘cause Nana doesn’t like me to wear jeans. She says girls should always dress like girls.”

Mitch
’s voice responded at a much lower volume. She had to give him credit — if someone had come into her house unexpectedly and begun screaming insults, she probably wouldn’t have remained so calm.

“
Do you want to change now? I’ll help you.”

“
I guess so.” Angie tightened her lips and slid off the bed. She chose a navy wool dress with a white collar that reminded Sophie of a school uniform. Together, they got Angie into the dress and completed the outfit with tights and patent leather shoes. Sophie arranged Angie’s hair in a French plait with a pretty bow she’d found in a drawer. The little girl took a deep breath before stepping out into the kitchen. Sophie followed, keeping her hand on Angie’s shoulder in a show of support.

The two people in the kitchen were silent, but the animosity between them burned like a furnace. Sophie tightened her hold on Angie
’s shoulder. The woman Sophie had seen in the studio portrait in Angie’s room stood near the back door, dressed and coiffed as if she was about to head to a board meeting. Mitch leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed. Whatever their argument had been about, neither opponent looked ready to give an inch.

The woman broke eye contact first, and her gaze went to Angie.
“Good afternoon, Angela. You’re looking lovely today.”

Sophie thought she caught an attempt at a smile, but the shape of the perfectly painted lips looked more like a grimace.

“Good afternoon, Nana,” Angie answered politely.

“
I trust you are doing well,” the woman continued.

“
Yes, Nana.”

Sophie couldn
’t believe her eyes. Nana never made a move to hug or kiss Angie. She tried to imagine her own mother having that kind of stilted conversation with Joey or her brother’s children. No, Joyce Gardner never left any doubt about her feelings for any of her grandchildren.

“
Your father and I are discussing plans for the holidays. He has informed me your plans don’t include a visit to our home.”

Angie glanced at her dad, but she remained silent.

“I’ve decided since you can’t be bothered to come to Chicago, we’ll just have to come and spend the holiday with you. Geoffrey and I will stay in Grand Rapids. I’m assuming that’s the closest place with decent hotels. I shall be back.” She swept out the door without another word.

Sophie, Mitch, and Angie stood frozen for several moments until Angie broke the silence.
“Daddy, does that mean Nana and Poppy are coming while Grandma and Grandpa are here?”

Mitch held his head in his hands.
“Dear Lord, help me,” he murmured.