Christmas memory, p.1
Christmas Memory, page 1
Christmas Memory
ID Johnson
Copyright © 2019 by ID Johnson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Sparrow Book Cover Designs
Created with Vellum
For Dan for inspiring me never to give up.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
Also by ID Johnson
Chapter 1
December, 2009
Christmas music blared from the speakers strategically placed around the ice skating rink. No matter where one was skating--or in Memory Wilson’s case—falling, the festive sounds serenaded the perfect pirouette—or wipe out, as the case may be. Though her friends had been patient and tried to teach her, Memory was sure she’d just never get the hang of it. She’d come to the mall to buy a few last minute presents, not bust her behind on the ice, so she decided to watch from a nearby bench as Kathryn Rodgers and Rebekkah Stephens had fun whizzing past like naturals. Despite the ache in her hip, Memory laughed as they twirled each other around like ballerinas. Twisting her fingers through her long blonde hair, she decided watching wasn’t so bad, and it was a lot less painful.
Mariah Carey’s voice filled the rink, with many an aspiring singer joining in. Memory knew all the words to “All I Want for Christmas Is You” but didn’t sing along. Her voice was better left in her head where only she could hear it. She finished taking off the cumbersome ice skates and slipped her sneakers back on as Rebekkah and Kathryn bumped into the half-wall in front of her. “You sure you’re done?” Rebekkah asked. “It’s not as much fun without you.”
Smiling at her friend’s sweet comment, Memory nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. As it is, I’m going to have bruises. You two go, have fun.”
“We should get some cocoa at that new place by the Chinese restaurant at the food court,” Kathryn suggested.
“Good idea,” Rebekkah agreed, tossing her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “I’ve heard their mint chocolate is the best.”
Kathryn took Rebekkah’s hand, and the two skated toward the exit, still talking about the cocoa shop. Memory couldn’t help but smile. Rebekkah and Kathryn were her very best friends—except for Grandma Helen. No one could be a better friend than her. The two girls sat down on the bench next to Memory’s and went about changing out of their skates, and her mind drifted.
She’d found the perfect gift for her grandmother. It was a journal with a cardinal on the front cover. Grandma Helen said whenever she saw a cardinal, it was the spirit of someone she loved coming back from heaven to say hello. Memory had no idea how that could be true, but she liked the thought of it. Sometimes, when she was at her grandmother’s large Victorian home, they’d sit by the picture window and stare out at the front yard, watching the birds flutter around the birdbath, flying from tree to tree. It was a magical place, with lots of beautiful plants and flowers. Grandma Helen spent hours telling Memory about each one, how her late husband, Memory’s Grandpa Joe, had planted them, and how Memory’s mother, Ann, had helped. Speaking about Ann seemed to make Grandma happy, so she let her grandma go on whenever she wanted to even though Memory had only met her mother through pictures and stories. She loved hearing about her, though. Whenever a cardinal landed nearby, Grandma Helen often insisted it was either Ann or Joe stopping to say hello, depending upon the color. Memory would smile, wishing it were true that angels could take the form of birds, but she was pretty sure it was just a feathered-friend enjoying her grandmother’s many bird feeders.
A group of boys skated by, their laughter jarring Memory out of her thoughts. Several of them slammed into each other trying to get through the exit at the same time, and she watched with a smile, finding it a little comical that five of them thought they could get out at once. The one at the back who waited on his friends to go first heard her giggle and looked her way. Memory felt her face turn red as his dark eyes landed on her face. He smiled at her, but she looked away. If she had to guess, he was probably about her age, maybe a little older. Since she wasn’t in her hometown of Christmas Falls she had never seen him before. Flirting really wasn’t her thing, even though she did think he was cute with his sprinkle of freckles and long eyelashes. The idea that a boy that attractive might be interested in her seemed comical, despite everyone always telling her how pretty she was.
The boys took up a couple of benches behind Memory and her friends who were still chatting even though they had their shoes on now. “I’ll run the skates back,” Rebekkah said, gathering them up. “Give me yours, Memory.”
“I don’t think you can carry them all,” Memory protested, picking them up herself to take them back.
“Of course I can,” Rebekkah insisted, making a muscle with one arm to show how strong she was. “Don’t underestimate me.”
Laughing, Memory handed them over and watched Rebekkah stroll past the boys with a little more swagger in her walk than normal as Kathryn sat down on the bench next to her. “She’s so silly,” Kathryn said, running her hand through her short brown hair. “I wonder what school those boys go to.”
“They’re probably locals,” Memory said with a shrug. “Carmel High would be my guess. Why don’t you go ask them?” She pushed on Kathryn’s knee, giggling, knowing her friend was just as shy as she was and not likely to say a word to any of them.
“Ha! Go for it!” Kathryn chided, shaking her head. “You know they’d think you’re pretty. Everyone at CFH does.”
“Please!” Melody insisted, shaking her head. “That’s not true, and besides, there’s not a guy at Christmas Falls High that I’d wanna date anyway.”
“I know, I know. You’re going to find the man of your dreams while you’re studying business at Harvard.”
“Not Harvard,” Memory insisted, making her blue eyes wide for emphasis. “But somewhere. I’ll come back, though. I love Christmas Falls. I just don’t like any of the boys in our class. It’s not like we have many to choose from.”
“True. Too bad those guys don’t go to our school.”
Memory stole a glance over her shoulder to see the boy she’d noticed before looking her way. Feeling the heat in her cheeks again, she looked away as Rebekkah “accidentally” bumped into the guy on the end and started chatting. “Great. We’ll be here all day.”
Kathryn pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Not if I can help it.” She sent a quick text, waited a second, and then held up her phone as it dinged. “Bek, come on! My mom is waiting for us at the cocoa shop!”
Memory looked at her friend and not the boys, watching as Rebekkah rolled her eyes. “Fine!” she shouted and then turned back to say something to the boy. Kathryn grabbed her coat and handed Memory hers, holding up Rebekkah’s for her. Their flirtatious friend sauntered over and took it from her outstretched hand. “Couldn’t give me five minutes, huh?” she said, shaking her head.
“Hey, we didn’t come here to flirt with boys,” Kathryn reminded her. “This is our girls’ weekend getaway, remember?”
“Every weekend is a girls’ weekend getaway when you have no boyfriend,” Rebekkah said, pitifully.
Kathryn stood and put her arm around her friend’s shoulders to console her, heading toward the exit. Ever since Rebekkah’s boyfriend had broken up with her a few weeks ago, she’d been a bag of emotions—flirty and fun one minute, desperately sad the next. Memory had no idea what it would be like to be dumped by a guy, so she couldn’t empathize, but she did feel bad for her friend. Her mind was on Rebekkah when she stood and followed behind her friends, hoping the cocoa would cheer her up since Kathryn hadn’t let her flirt with the boys.
Memory had only taken a few steps when she felt a tap on her shoulder and stopped, “Excuse me, I think this is yours.”
Turning her head, her eyes met wide brown ones, a sprinkle of freckles, and a shy smile. “What’s that?” she managed, her heart beating out of her chest.
“This package—is it yours?”
He was holding her shopping bag, the one with her grandmother’s present in it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’s mine. Thanks.” She took it, her fingertips brushing slightly against his, and a tingle climbed her arm. A rush of red crept up her neck to her cheeks, and Memory took a step back, not able to pull her eyes off of his yet.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his grin widening as his face also turned a light pink.
“Cody, come on!” one of the other boys yelled. “Ask her out later!”
The rest of the boys laughed loudly, and Cody’s face turned an even brighter shade of crimson. Memory wasn’t sure what to do or say, so she muttered, “Thanks,” again and hurried off to join her friends. If he said anything else to her, she didn’t hear.
When she caught up to her friends, who’d stopped a few feet away to wait for her, Memory’s heart was thundering in her chest louder than the drums in the song that was playing—which happened to be “Little Drummer Boy.”
“He’s cute!” Rebekkah said, a smile brightening her face. “What did he say?”
“Nothing. He just handed me my bag,” Memory insisted, walking briskly toward the exit.
“Girl, slow down,” Rebekkah called after her. “Did you get his name? His number?”
“No! I just got my bag.”
“For someone named Memory, you sure leave things behind a lot,” Kathryn mumbled. Memory turned and looked at her sharply. “Sorry, sorry. He was cute, though. If he lives here in Carmel, that’s not too far from Christmas Falls. You should go find out.”
Memory shook her head. There was no way she was approaching the rowdy group of boys that were making their way toward the exit on the other side of the rink. “Nope. Come on. Let’s go to the food court before Mrs. Rodgers thinks we’re lost.”
“Okay. Your loss,” Rebekkah muttered, and the three of them headed toward the exit closest to the food court, away from the one Cody was likely walking out of.
Memory didn’t dare look though. If it was meant to be, she’d see him again someday. She tried to put him out of her head and let the mall’s Christmas music fill her mind with happy thoughts. Kathryn was right—she didn’t always have a very good memory, despite her name. But she was pretty sure she’d never forget Cody.
Chapter 2
January 31, 2019
“Be careful on that ladder,” Memory said, staring up at her older sister Kirsten as she took another step higher toward the top of the Christmas tree.
“You mean like this?” Kirsten asked, leaning backward at a precarious angle and waving one arm around, though the other still gripped a rung.
“That’s not funny!” Memory glared up at her, holding firm to the ladder to steady it.
“Relax, sis. No one’s going to the hospital today.” Kirsten reached the top of the tree and carefully pulled the angel tree topper off, handing it down to Memory, who let go with one hand to take it.
Memory studied the angel for a moment. This was her grandmother’s favorite piece. Every year, when the girls’ dad, Bryce, placed it on top of the tree, Grandma Helen would tell the story of how Grandpa Joe had brought it home from a business trip to London when they’d first gotten married, back in the late 1960s. It was one of Memory’s favorite stories because Grandpa Joe had searched high and low for the perfect gift for his bride. The auburn-haired angel, dressed in a white gown with golden trim, had a beautiful porcelain face and held a candle. The angel bathed the entire tree in a glow that warmed the room and Memory’s heart.
She carefully handed the item over to her dad who waited with bubble wrap in hand to package it up. The angel had been the inspiration for her grandmother to open her own little shop on the square downtown, years later, when she decided everyone deserved special Christmas pieces in their lives. Memory had worked there with her in high school, and now that she’d finished her bachelor’s in business, her plan was to take The Memory Box to the next level. She was already working hard to make the shop an online presence. Grandma Helen didn’t care about any of that—she just loved sitting behind the cash register visiting with all of the folks as they came in to look around.
“Are you all right, Grandma?” Memory asked, glancing over at Helen who was overseeing operations from a chair by the window.
Helen smiled, though her eyes were only half-open. “I’m fine, dear. Just a bit of indigestion. I’ll be all right.” She chuckled, but something seemed off. Grandma was never happy on the day they packed up all the Christmas decorations, but today, she seemed unwell.
“Can I get you anything?” Bryce asked, carefully placing the angel in its own plastic bin.
“I’m fine,” Helen insisted. “Just need to rest my eyes.”
Memory took a few steps closer to her grandmother, noticing her coloring didn’t look quite right. Grandma Helen had just turned 72 last month, and while she had some health problems, she was still able to get around well, working at the shop almost every day and never missing a Sunday at church. “Grandma... do you want some water?”
“No, dear. Please, don’t worry over me. We need to get this tree put away. We can’t have a Christmas tree up in February. Not outside of the shop anyway. “ She laughed again, but it sounded forced.
“Maison will be over soon with the kids,” Kirsten said, handing the ornaments from the top of the tree down to their dad now that Memory had stepped away. Remembering she was supposed to hold the ladder, she went back, thinking the last thing they needed was for Kirsten to fall. She had a newborn son to take care of and a three-year-old daughter.
“Good, good,” Grandma Helen said, her voice sounding as if she were about to fall asleep. “I just love that little Lorelei. Reminds me of my Ann. And that baby Anson is precious.” Her voice trailed off, and Memory assumed she’d fallen asleep.
Kirsten came down from the ladder. “I don’t like this, Dad. I don’t think she’s well.”
A lump formed in Memory’s throat as she braced the ladder for her sister, her eyes turning back to her grandmother. Grandma Helen had been Memory’s best friend for as long as she could remember. Not only did they work together at the shop, Memory had moved into Grandma Helen’s house when she’d returned from college. When Memory was away at school, she’d called her grandma every night, and they’d decided it would be a big help to Grandma Helen if Memory lived with her and helped run the shop. Memory enjoyed living in the historic home, and she loved spending so much time with her grandmother.
Memory swallowed hard as her dad put the ornaments down on top of a bin and slowly walked over to Grandma Helen’s chair. “Helen?” he called, quietly. “Are you all right?”
Memory watched as her father reached out to his mother-in-law, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Helen? Helen!” Her hands flew to her mouth—she’d known something wasn’t right. “Kirsten—call nine-one-one,” Bryce insisted, shaking Grandma Helen, gently at first and then more vigorously. Tears streamed down Memory’s face as she heard her sister speaking to the emergency dispatcher. Grandma Helen wasn’t opening her eyes....
In the window behind her, three cardinals landed on the branch of an evergreen tree—one bright red and two brown. They flittered around together, calling a happy tune, as if they had just been reunited. Sirens blared in the distance, but they didn’t leave their branch, and seeing them, Memory remembered what her grandmother always said about cardinals. Another tear slipped down her cheek, rolling off, landing on the container that held the Christmas angel.
Chapter 3
December 2, 2019
Helen Graham rushed down the hall, sliding her feet along the polished white marble like she was a kid, even though she was far from it if she counted by earthly years. After almost eleven months in this place, she was beginning to get used to the Big Guy’s affinity for all things pure and gleaming, though in her own home on the other side of the park from the administrative office she was visiting, she preferred to have as many colors as possible—bold reds, vibrant blues, and a color she hadn’t even known existed until she’d come here—blueple. Joe preferred more muted tones, but he could have all the browns and dark greens he wanted in his man-cave, so long as he didn’t interfere with Helen’s bright living room and kitchen.
Glancing down at her watch, she saw that she had two minutes. Punctuality had never been her strength in life, and it was something she was working on now as well. Not that the scatter-brained AA she was rushing to meet would likely be ready for her anyway. In their monthly meetings before, Stella hadn’t proven herself to be on top of things, and Helen often wondered how she got to be an Angel Assistant in the first place. She figured Stella must’ve known someone who knew someone who knew the Big Guy well. Either that or she’d just been around so long, she’d managed to get the job that way. With one minute to spare, Helen slid to a stop in front of the large white door, took a deep breath, and went in.
