Christmas memory, p.4
Christmas Memory, page 4
The door chimed and a local couple she knew from church came in. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Howard. How are you?”
Memory went about helping Mrs. Howard find a gift for her niece, trying not to let her father’s news about the new B and B keep her from enjoying the holiday spirit. Christmas really was the most wonderful time of the year, even if this one felt a little off without Grandma Helen. She put a smile on her face and got to work, glad to stay busy to keep her mind off of what she’d lost.
Chapter 5
Appearing out of thin air was a sensation that was going to take a little getting used to. Luckily for Helen, no one was around when she suddenly came to find herself standing around the corner from the town square. She looked down at the bright red coat she was wearing, along with black slacks and very practical, yet stylish, black boots with faux fur trim around the top and thought Stella had done a nice job. With a large, but not gaudy, gold and black handbag slung over her arm, Helen took a deep breath and headed for the shop.
She’d only gone a few steps when she caught her own reflection in the window of the empty store next to her destination. “Oh, my!” she gasped, looking herself over. She certainly looked different! Her hair was short and curly—and a fiery red! She ran her hand along the bottom of each side, giving it a little poof. Several inches taller than she was used to being, even without the boots, Helen dared to say she was even lithe and graceful. Her face was pretty, with blue eyes the same shade they’d been before—when she was herself. Memory had blue eyes the same color. Hopefully, Helen’s eyes wouldn’t give her away. With the rest of the disguise, she didn’t think so. Satisfied that she looked pretty darn good, Helen approached The Memory Box.
A few customers bustled around, checking out the different wares. Helen hesitated, looking through the window. She didn’t see Memory at first, but then, her granddaughter stepped out from behind one of the Christmas trees that displayed some of the ornaments they had on offer. Helen gasped. She was lovely, as always, but there was a sadness about her eyes Helen had never noticed before. Placing a hand to her heart, she did her best to keep her emotions in check. It pained her to think she had caused the spark of life she was used to seeing in her granddaughter’s blue eyes fade even a bit.
“Stella, are you there?” Helen thought, hoping this prayer thing really did work two ways since she’d really only ever experienced it one-way, as far as she knew.
“Yes, I’m here.” Stella sounded nervous, or maybe annoyed, Helen wasn’t sure.
“Great. I’m going in. Can you clear the store out in a few minutes so I can talk to Memory alone?”
It took a moment for Stella to answer, and at first, Helen thought maybe she wasn’t going to respond, or maybe she had and Helen hadn’t heard—like the many times she had prayed about something and felt God had not answered her, when maybe He had, and she just didn’t hear it. “Fine, but I do have other work to attend to, you know.”
“Hey, do you want to keep that job or not?” Helen snapped. “If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need your help.”
Stella grumbled something Helen didn’t quite understand, and then, with another deep breath, Helen entered the shop.
The bell above the door dinged, a familiar sound to Helen, one she hadn’t heard in a while, and the scent of the old wood of the shop itself, mingling with the cedar and cinnamon scents of the season, settled around her. Helen instantly felt back at home.
“Merry Christmas!” Memory called, giving her a little wave. Still busy with a family of four, with two little girls who seemed to want to touch everything, she didn’t come right over. Helen smiled and took a moment to look around, hoping Stella would do as she’d asked and get the rest of the customers to leave so that she could speak to Memory alone. What she was going to say, she wasn’t sure, but she prayed it would come to her.
“Why don’t we go get a donut and come back on our way to the car?” the dad suggested, picking up one of the little girls.
“It will only take me a minute to ring you up,” Memory said, her smile a little forced, her voice a little desperate.
“This one really wants a pink donut before they run out,” the mom explained. “We’ll be back.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her to the door.
“See you soon,” Memory called after them, the desperation still there. Helen felt bad for driving a customer away. The other couple who’d been shopping left as well, and Memory’s face fell.
“Hello, dear,” Helen said, addressing her granddaughter for the first time in a long time. “How are you today?”
“I’m good,” Memory applied, turning to the only remaining customer and giving her a bright smile. “How are you?”
Helen almost said the same thing she would’ve said when she was alive but caught herself. “I’m fair,” she said—not fair to middlin’—don’t say that. “This is a lovely shop you have here.”
“Oh, thank you. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“No, no. I just love the holidays. I’m in town for a few weeks, until Christmas, and thought I’d stop by and see what sort of décor I might add to my room at the inn, that’s all.” It sounded rehearsed because she’d been practicing it while she waited. She took another gulp of air, hoping Memory didn’t seem to think she was acting odd. If she did, Helen couldn’t tell.
“Where are you staying?”
“At the Candy Cane Lane Inn,” Helen replied with a smile, looking over the ornaments hanging on a small tree atop a table. After some prodding, she’d gotten Stella to see where Dakota was staying so she’d know where to find him. Stella had protested, saying she was getting too much help, but Helen needed to make sure she had the opportunity to bump into him, too.
“Oh, I love the Candy Cane Lane Inn,” Memory said, straightening some of the ornaments. “It’s the only family owned bed and breakfast in Christmas Falls.”
“You don’t say?” Helen replied, running her hands across a music box she’s picked out herself the year before. She remembered thinking the intricate wood carving was a real eye-catcher. “This is lovely.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Memory said, stepping over beside her. “My grandmother found that at a craft fair. It’s hand carved.”
“She had good taste—has good taste, I mean. That is....” Helen cleared her throat. “It’s lovely.”
Memory gave her a small smile that looked slightly pained. “’Had’ was right. She passed away in January.”
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Helen placed her hand on Memory’s arm. “You must’ve been close.”
Tears formed in the corners of Memory’s eyes. “She was my best friend. We ran the shop together. We even lived together. I know it might seem silly for a young person like me to say her grandma was her best friend, but my mom passed away when I was born, and Grandma and I were just always so close. It doesn’t quite seem like Christmas without her here.”
“Honey,” Helen began, patting Memory’s arm, “I’m bet it must be difficult for you to celebrate your first Christmas without her, but I’m sure your grandmother wouldn’t want you to be sad. It sounds like she lived a happy life. She would want you to do the same—find someone who makes you happy and live your life in the same spirit of joy and love that she did.”
Memory looked into Helen’s eyes for a moment, and her forehead crinkled. Then, she shook her head slightly and said, “You’re right, of course.” She dabbed at her eyes with her knuckle. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just.... You’re just very easy to talk to.”
Helen laughed, letting go of Memory’s arm. “That’s what I hear. I hope it helped, dear. You seem like a lovely young lady. I’m sure your grandma is very proud of you, Memory.”
“Thank you. I’m sure she is, too. It’s just too bad I can’t talk to her anymore, or hear her answer anyway.” She smiled and turned around, still wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, but then she turned back “Wait... did you.... How did you know my name?”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory just curious, and Helen realized she’d slipped up already. “You, uh... I mean....” She looked around. Memory wasn’t wearing a name-tag, so that was out. “Oh, Leon. At the inn. When he mentioned the shop to me, he said that the woman who owns it is named Memory. That’s your—right. Memory Wilson?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Memory nodded, looking at the ceiling, and Helen let out a sigh of relief that she’d dodged a bullet. “That Leon is a wonderful man. He was good friends with my grandma. His wife, Betty, died when I was in high school. She used to make the best pecan pie. I hear he still tries to make it for the guests on Christmas Day, but it doesn’t always turn out right.”
“Is that so?” Helen asked, knowing all of that firsthand. “Well, maybe I’ll give him a hand. I’m a pretty good baker.” That should throw her off—Helen wasn’t a good baker at all. In fact, she’d once ruined the Thanksgiving turkey by adding sugar to the broth instead of salt.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Memory said, back to straightening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”
“What’s that dear?” Helen asked, not listening carefully. She noticed a beautiful candy cane ornament hanging on the tree in front of her and was admiring it.
“Your name?”
“Oh, Hel—eh—uh, Ellen—ore,” she stammered. Memory’s eyebrows knit together, and then her eyes widened as she tried to keep track of the gibberish coming out of the woman’s mouth.
“Ellie. You can call me Ellie,” Helen finally blurted.
“Ellie. It’s nice to meet you.” Memory offered her hand, and Helen shook it, waiting for her to turn around before she made a face. She’d intended to come up with an elaborate name, or at least one far different from her own—something like Scarlet Truscott-Wortham, or Ruby Jane Trustingham. Now she was stuck with a name that sounded too much like her own.
“Ellie Snow—that’s me.” May as well keep it simple now that she’d already ruined her one chance at having a fancy name.
“That’s pretty. I love the last name Snow. It’s like having a bit of Christmas with you all year round. Sort of like living in Christmas Falls.”
“I agree. That’s why my late husband and I started a Christmas shop, similar to this one. We ran it together for many years until he passed away—five years ago. From... a stroke. It was a terrible day, the day I lost... Chris. So, I decided to sell the shop, and now I travel around visiting quaint little towns at Christmas, like this one, spreading Christmas cheer.” It had all sounded so much better when she’d been rehearsing it in her mind before she opened her mouth. Her husband was going to be Roger, not Chris. Helen shook her head, thinking Memory must be planning to call the authorities to have her returned to whatever home she’d apparently escaped from.
If she thought the speech sounded odd, she didn’t let on. “That sounds fun. Did you and Chris have any children?”
“No, we never did. We wanted to, but... it just wasn’t in God’s plan.”
“I don’t think it’s in God’s plan for you to tell so many lies either!” Stella’s voice sounded in Helen’s head, surprising her, and she went from a wide-eyed stare to pretending to get emotional, covering her face with her hand so Memory wouldn’t think her expression odd.
“I’m trying to create an elaborate back story that sounds convincing,” Helen said to Stella, wishing she’d butt out if she wasn’t going to be helpful.
“The more lies you tell, the harder it will be to keep track of!”
“I’m sorry to hear about your husband. It sounds like he was a wonderful man. With a name like Chris Snow, I’m sure he loved Christmas.”
“He did. He really did. I miss him, especially this time of year, but I know he’s in a better place now.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Memory said, though her face took on another melancholy look.
A few more customers came in, and Memory greeted them. “I’ll be right with you.”
“Oh, go ahead. I’m still looking,” Helen said with a chuckle.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Memory’s smile was genuine as she stepped away to help the two ladies who’d come in looking for wreaths.
Helen took the opportunity to go back over everything she’d told her granddaughter so far. Stella was right—she’d done quite a bit of elaborating--and it might be difficult to remember all of the details. She realized Memory hadn’t asked her where she was visiting from, so she decided to tell her St. Charles, Illinois, if she asked since it also had a reputation as a town where the people loved Christmas, and she’d mentioned owning a Christmas shop. Helen thought she had everything sorted out so that by the time the customers left, she was ready to launch phase two of her plan—if she could call introducing herself and blundering through a conversation phase one. So far, she hadn’t done anything to help Memory have a meet-cute with Dakota. In fact, Helen hadn’t even met Dakota yet. She’d have to be patient.
“You know, dear, I’ve noticed you don’t have much of a staff,” Helen said, looking around the shop. “Or any staff.”
“Nope, it’s just me,” Memory said with a shrug. “I handle everything now that.... Now.”
“That must be so difficult for you,” Helen said, shaking her head. “How do you take a lunch break—or even go to the bathroom?”
Memory’s eyes bulged, and she began to giggle. Helen realized she’d probably crossed a boundary there, if she had been speaking to someone she just met, but Memory replied, “Quickly.”
“Well, you know, honey, I’m going to be in town until Christmas. I’m guessing that is your busy season. I’ve got plenty of experience running a shop just like this one. I’d be happy to help you out a few hours a day. Give you a chance to eat your lunch and run some errands.”
Memory stared at her for a few moments, as if she were searching for a response. “Oh, Ellie, that’s so nice. Really. Thank you, but I’m afraid I can’t afford to bring on any help right now. I wish I could.”
“Oh, who said anything about paying me?” Helen countered. “It’ll give me a chance to be useful again, and give you a chance to do all the things you never get to.”
“I don’t know....”
Helen could tell Memory was considering it, but she didn’t want to impose. To Stella, she said, “Now would be a great time to bring that family back in.”
“A little warning would’ve been helpful!”
Despite her comment, the family of four came through the door, the girls even more energetic now that they had some sugar in them, their sticky fingers reaching for everything. Memory excused herself again, and Helen got to work. If she could show Memory how useful she could be, how could she say no to letting her stay on?
While Memory was distracted, Helen hurried to the back, flew through the stock room door, and looked at the inventory. “Any idea what she was going to display next?” she asked Stella.
“Uh... those Santas there. She was going to hang them on the tree where the candy cane ornaments are just about all sold out. She’s shipping the rest of the candy canes, so don’t open those.”
“Perfect,” Helen muttered. She put her handbag down on the floor and lifted a box of the ornaments onto the dolly without actually picking it up at all. “This floating inanimate objects business is pretty snazzy.”
“Just be careful not to get caught.”
Helen wrinkled her nose and then took the ornaments out, glad that Memory was busy trying to help the family pick out a tree topper while she also kept the little girls from breaking the snow globes. With the few waves of Helen’s finger, all of the ornaments were placed perfectly on the tree, and no one was the wiser to her corner cutting.
While Memory was still engrossed, Helen straightened another display that was out of order, alphabetized the ornaments that had names on them, color coded the plush animals on a shelf in the back, and made sure all of the mugs had their handles to the left—in the span of about five minutes. Then, she took the dolly and the empty box to the back. Not quite sure what Memory was planning to work on next, she decided not to touch anything else. “You can make them go now,” she said to Stella. “Oh, but make sure they buy something.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of free will?” Stella muttered, but when Helen came back out front, the family had several items up at the cash register, and Memory was ringing them out.
“That will be $256.22,” she said, and Helen recognized the look on her granddaughter’s face—she was trying not to smile. Helen caught her eye and gave her a wink, glad to see she’d gotten a big sale, even if it might’ve been slightly coerced.
“Maybe you can make them find a $100 bill in the parking lot,” she suggested to Stella.
“Money doesn’t grow on trees, Helen.”
“Bye now, thanks again. Merry Christmas!” Memory waved at the family as they made their way back outside, a gust of cold wind blowing in with the opening of the door that left Helen shivering, despite the fact that she’d never taken off her coat. She should’ve been sweating—if she’d actually exerted herself at all doing all of the work she’d just completed.
“Well, that was a nice sale,” Memory said with a smile. “I’m sorry—did you find what you were looking for?”
“You know, I think I did,” Helen said, grinning at her granddaughter. “What do you say? Can I spend some time working in your shop?”
Memory’s eyes went past her, to the shelves behind where Helen was standing and the tree with the new ornaments hung. “How did you.... Did you.... You hung all of these ornaments while I was helping them? And straightened the mugs? The plushes—the ornaments with the names? Ellie—how did you do that so quickly?”
Shrugging, Helen said, “I told you, I have a lot of experience.”
“But... I never brought that box out of the stock room,” Memory said, pointing her finger at the Santa tree.
