The Christmas Joy Ride (3 page)

Miranda looked out at the perfectly normal-looking highway
and tried to imagine people from the thirties in their loaded-up cars and trucks. The only image she could come up with looked like a scene from
The Grapes of Wrath
, but that worked. The Joad Family would've used Route 66 to get to the West Coast. Although it was probably just a two-lane highway back then.

After about an hour, Miranda felt considerably calmer. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. At least they were still on the road, and the sky was still clear, and Joy seemed to be in her element behind the wheel. And sitting up high in the passenger seat looking out over everything was rather nice. “So tell me, Joy, who are we going to visit and why?”

“We have six stops to make,” Joy began, “to see people I selected from a contest I held on my website.”

“When did you do that?”

“Mid-November. About the same time you went to assist your sister with her children and the new baby.”

“I can't believe you set that up all by yourself with no techie help from me,” Miranda said. Joy usually depended on Miranda for new additions to the website. But Miranda had been trying to show Joy how easy it was to do some things herself.

“I just followed the directions you'd written out for me,” Joy explained. “It took me a lot longer than it would take you, but I eventually got it up.”

“Good for you!”

“The contest wasn't anything fancy,” Joy continued. “I didn't know how to put up any of the fancy extras you're so good at. And no photos. I simply announced that I had a lot of great Christmas goodies that I wanted to give away. I called it the My Route 66 contest, and I invited any deserving folks who lived along that route to contact me with their story.”

“And you got a lot of responses?”

“A couple dozen altogether, but only six that qualified.”

“Well, six sounds like plenty.”

“Yes, six is more than plenty. I have it all scheduled in my book there.” She pointed to the red and green notebook on the dashboard. “I had originally planned to leave a few days sooner than this. But there was so much preparation to be done. I can hardly believe it's already mid-December. So we'll need to stick to the schedule and keep this road trip moving whippity-snap in order to accomplish everything before Christmas.”

“You said the people were deserving,” Miranda said, pressing for more info. “How so?”

“Well, they're all different. Kind of like apples and oranges and bananas and pears. I guess you'll just have to see them for yourself and decide. But mostly they sound like regular folks who've fallen onto hard times . . . for various reasons. Just everyday people who are not feeling too cheerful about Christmas this year.”

“Kind of like me.” Miranda folded her arms in front of her.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Joy's voice lilted. “Which is exactly why you are perfect for this trip, my dear.”

“How's that?”

“You know how it feels to suffer, Miranda. You have developed great empathy.”

Miranda wasn't too sure about this, but at least it sounded good. She leaned back into the comfy seat and attempted to relax. Maybe she'd been wrong to be so concerned about taking a trip like this. Maybe it was just what she needed. Well, that and a good cup of coffee and some chocolate. Because if she allowed herself to focus on the sorry state of her life, she would probably slip into a total meltdown.

A
fter about three hours of driving with only one short rest stop, Joy didn't want to admit that she was feeling a bit weary. She glanced over at Miranda and was pleased to see that she appeared to be snoozing comfortably. Apparently she was over her earlier panic attack. Well, it wasn't exactly a panic attack, but Miranda had definitely been on edge. Joy was tempted to pull over and take a short nap too, but with less than an hour to their first stop, she was reluctant to waste any precious time. Especially since her plan had been to arrive in early afternoon, spend a couple hours on her Christmas Joy project, then get to the RV park before dark. She hoped the queen-sized bed in back was still as comfortable as it used to be.

“Wow, I can't believe I actually fell asleep.” Miranda sat up straight in the seat and stretched her arms.

“I'm sure you needed it.”

“You doing okay?” Miranda asked. “Getting tired yet?”

“I'm okay.” Joy nodded firmly. “And based on the last sign I saw, we should be in Springfield in about forty minutes. I thought we could grab a bite to eat somewhere near the place we're stopping.”

“Do you know which exit to take? Or where to go once you're in Springfield?”

“The address is in that.” Joy pointed to the red and green notebook on the dashboard. “Look under Mansfield Manor.”

“Mansfield Manor?” Miranda reached for the notebook. “Sounds kinda swanky.”

“According to LaShanda—the gal who entered the contest—it's in need of some help.”

“What is it anyway?”

“A nursing home.”

“Oh . . . Well, I've got it in my GPS now. Looks like it's not too far off the highway.” Miranda set her device into a special holder that she had positioned on the dashboard. “So who's LaShanda?”

“She's a nurse's aide who works there. She wrote that everyone in the nursing home gets pretty depressed during the holidays. Apparently they don't get many visitors. But we're going to see if we can change that . . . just a little.”

“Just by putting up some Christmas decorations?”

“Decorating is the first step. But there's a little more to my plan.” As she drove, Joy explained how LaShanda had an eleven-year-old son who was in a scout troop. “Willy and his friends will come to a party in the nursing home. It's scheduled for Saturday afternoon. And I'm providing all the refreshments. LaShanda has it all arranged with a caterer friend. Also, I've wrapped up a bunch of small gifts, just little inconsequential
items, but the scouts will play Santa as they present them to the residents. And then they'll sing some Christmas songs.” She sighed. “I suppose it's not much, but it's more than these folks would have otherwise.”

“I think it sounds lovely. I'm sure they'll appreciate it.”

“LaShanda was very appreciative.”

“She sounds like a very thoughtful person.”

Before long they were coming into the city limits and Miranda—along with her GPS, which had the voice of a slightly bossy woman—found a McDonald's with enough room to park the RV. Miranda went in to get their lunch, which they ate in the RV. By 1:30, they were pulling up to a boring one-story brick building painted in a muddy shade of brown. Joy pulled into the parking area in back and turned off the engine. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, making a little grunt as she stood up straight.

“You
are
tired,” Miranda proclaimed. “I can tell.”

“Oh, well, I'm still getting into driving shape,” Joy told her.

Miranda looked unconvinced. “You look tired to me, Joy. And this is just our first day. Do you really think you're up for this?”

Joy frowned. “We'll just have to pace ourselves, get plenty of rest, and try not to overdo.”

Miranda pointed to the driver's seat. “Or else you'll have to let me drive.”

Joy was surprised. “Really? You'd
want
to drive?”

Miranda shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I'm a good driver. If you can do it, I'm sure I can too.”

“Well, then you shall get your chance, my dear. Count on it.” Joy reached for her boom box, something her grandson had left behind after a visit one summer because it was “outdated.” She slipped a Dean Martin Christmas cassette into it, then opened
the RV door and carefully made her way down the steps. “Why don't you unload the bins that I wrote ‘MM' on—for Mansfield Manor?” she called to Miranda. “I'll go ahead inside.”

“You got it.”

Joy found a very blasé-looking receptionist and explained why she was there. A couple of minutes later she was greeted by a large African-American woman and the biggest smile Joy could ever remember seeing. “LaShanda!” Joy exclaimed as they exchanged a big hug. “I'm so happy to meet you.”

“Bless your heart for coming to us,” LaShanda said as she led Joy to the “activity room,” which looked rather inactive just now. “Not a moment too soon either.” LaShanda explained how one of her favorite residents was feeling extra blue today. “It would've been Madge's seventieth anniversary this week, and they always celebrated with a Christmas party, with family and friends,” she said. “But her husband passed away a couple years ago.” She lowered her voice. “No one expected Madge to still be around this long, but she's turned out to be a real trouper.”

“Perhaps I can pay her a visit after I get my helper started on the decorating.” Joy looked around the stark activity room. “Mind if we work to music?”

“Not a bit.”

Joy set the boom box on a counter. “Did you get the tree like we planned? A big one?” Joy had sent checks and instructions ahead of time to some of the winners so they could have trees ready to decorate.

“I did. Thank you so much for sending the check for it. I gotta say, it was not cheap. It's out back. I'll ask the maintenance guy to bring it in.”

Joy pointed to a large blank wall. “I think we'll put the faux fireplace right there with the tree over to the left of it.”

“Sounds great.” LaShanda beamed at her. “Just tell me what to do. My boss said I can help you for an hour or so. Fortunately this is the quiet time of day.”

Joy spotted Miranda walking down the hallway with a couple of bins, waved her into the large room, and introduced her to LaShanda.

“I'll go get another load,” Miranda said as she set the bins on a coffee table. “Looks like there are seven bins with ‘MM' on them.”

“That's right. And then one of those cookie baskets inside the RV—the biggest one.” Joy turned back to LaShanda. “Now let's see what's in these bins.”

As Joy opened the first bin, she told LaShanda that the items she'd chosen for Mansfield Manor were the oldest Christmas decorations she had. “I thought that your residents might relate better to decorations from the 1940s and '50s. It might bring back some memories.” She extracted a set of colorful bubble lights. “These aren't really old,” she explained as she stretched them out on the table, “they just look like it.”

“It feels just like Christmas,” LaShanda exclaimed as they removed more and more items from the bins.

Joy laughed. “That's the point.”

With Joy directing, an old set of nearly life-sized Santa and reindeer went up on the wall behind the TV. LaShanda and several curious residents went to work on the tree that the maintenance man positioned next to the cardboard faux fireplace that Miranda was taping into place. Meanwhile, Joy, with the help of a resident named Thomas, arranged an old plaster of Paris nativity scene on top of a low bookshelf. As they carefully unwrapped the pieces from tissue paper, she told him how this nativity set was one of many that she'd collected over the years. “It was always important that we had the real meaning
of Christmas displayed prominently in our home,” she said as she unfurled a shepherd.

“My wife had a set similar to this one,” Thomas reminisced. “Don't know what became of it.”

“This set was always special because I used it when my boys were small,” she explained. “Some of the pieces are chipped now.” She paused to examine a lamb. “And a wise man is missing, but I think if we swirl some angel hair around, no one will notice.” She handed the bag of fluffy strands to Thomas, watching as he carefully arranged it.

“That looks lovely,” she told him.

“It sure does.” He nodded with a reverent smile.

The two of them stood there, admiring their work. Joy hoped that the nativity would be a blessing to the other residents as well. She wanted to remind them that Christmas was more than just glitter and garlands—but that color and sparkle were a wonderful way to celebrate the real Joy of Christmas. And before she walked away, she lifted the baby Jesus and gave it a little kiss—just like she'd always done—and laid it in the manger.

“That's nice,” Thomas told her with misty eyes. “Real nice.”

“Thank you for helping,” she said.

By 3:30 the activity room and boring reception area were glowing with color and light. Lured by the music, more residents began to trickle in, curiously examining the decorations and commenting in wonder. Joy happily greeted each person, almost as she would have welcomed a guest into her own home in years past. She wished each one a merry Christmas, then directed them to where Miranda was handing out Christmas cookies and punch. Meanwhile the Dean Martin Christmas music continued to play merrily.

“It feels like a party already,” LaShanda commented as she helped a wheelchair-bound woman get some treats.

“As it should.” Joy beamed at the room. Such a transformation! She hadn't expected to be this pleased, but she was. All their hard work was well worth it. She looked around the room that was slowly getting crowded. “Where is the woman you mentioned?” she asked LaShanda. “Madge, was it?”

LaShanda peered around, then shook her head. “She's not here.”

“How about if I go get her?” Joy asked.

“Good idea.” LaShanda gave her the room number and Joy went off in search of her.

Joy knocked quietly on the partly open door. “Madge?” she called. “May I come in?”

A white-haired woman sat slumped in an easy chair next to the window, gazing out with a blank expression.

Joy pulled a straight-backed chair next to Madge and sat down. “I'm Joy,” she said quietly. “I know we haven't met, but I suspect we have some things in common.”

Madge turned to peer curiously at Joy. “Who are you? Do you work here?”

Joy smiled and shook her head. “I'm just visiting.” Now Joy explained about her
Christmas
Joy
website. “I suppose some people think I'm a bit silly, starting up something like that at my age. But after my George died, well, I just felt so lost . . . I needed something to occupy my time. And since I'd always loved Christmas and had been giving people suggestions for holiday activities and recipes and decorating tips, well, it just made sense to share it in a bigger way. My neighbor Miranda knows all about computers and she helped me set up a website.” Joy laughed. “Oh, listen to me—just rambling away. And I really came here to get to know you. I heard that you would've been celebrating seventy years of marriage this week.” Joy reached over and squeezed Madge's hand. “Congratulations on your anniversary!”

Madge frowned. “But Ralph's not here. How can I celebrate?”

“Oh, he's not here physically,” Joy said, “but I suspect he's right here.” Joy tapped her chest. “My George is still here for me.”

Madge nodded. “Yes, that's true.”

“And the purpose of an anniversary is to honor the day you and Ralph were wed, right?”

“Yes . . . that's right.”

“So why not celebrate? Just because Ralph isn't physically with you now shouldn't erase any of the magic you experienced seventy years ago, should it?”

Madge's lips curved into a smile. “That's true.”

“Now, tell me about that day,” Joy insisted.

Joy listened intently as Madge described a small family wedding that took place just as World War II was winding down. Ralph had been on leave from the navy during the two weeks prior to Christmas. “I wore a dress of creamy white satin that my mother and aunt sewed up for me in just a couple of days.” She described how the bodice and sleeves were fitted and sleek. “And the skirt had such a nice swirl to it.” She sighed.

After about thirty minutes of reminiscing, Joy invited Madge to come see the Christmas decorations and Madge gladly agreed. As they got closer, Madge could hear the music drifting down the hallway. “Is that Dean Martin?” she asked.

“It is.” Joy linked her arm in Madge's.

Madge made a happy sigh. “Now that takes me back.”

Joy led Madge around, showing her the various decorations and explaining some of the meanings behind them. “I wish I could stay longer,” she said wistfully. “But we need to get settled before it gets dark.” She pointed to the window. “So we'll have to move on.”