It Really IS a Wonderful Life: The Snowflake Falls but Hearts in Love Keep a Home Warm All Year Long (13 page)

“I like you, Gabe. I don’t agree with the way you discipline them at times, but they like you. If we continued dating, I’d eventually fall in love with you. And yes, we probably would get married. And we might even make it work.”

“Then why are you breaking up with me?”

“I don’t think this is God’s plan for either of us.”

Gabe dropped the necklace into his shirt pocket. “It’s because I acted like a jerk yesterday. Can’t you forgive me?”

“Yes, you were a jerk. And yes, I’ve forgiven you. That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is it?”

“You and I are meant to travel different roads. It won’t work, no matter how much we force it. Does anything I’m telling you make sense?”

“No. I don’t understand and I never will. But I can tell I won’t be able to change your mind. So I guess I’d better leave.” His knees creaked as he slowly rose, his walk across the carpet to the door like a slow-motion replay. She didn’t dare go to him. If he tried to kiss her, she would convince herself she should take back the necklace and all it implied.

When the door thudded shut, her heart bled. Gabe’s attentions had resuscitated feelings she thought had died with Devon. Now she was alone again—a different kind of loneliness. Clouds covered her future. Would the sun ever shine again?

As always, whenever storms frightened her, she sought strength from her children, living lessons of resiliency and hope. She headed upstairs and peeked in on Emma who was sound asleep. Dorie fell to her knees beside her daughter’s bed and listened to her breathe. With each soft sigh, Dorie vowed to be the best mother possible—even if she sailed solo.

Will you be there with me, God
?

Every step of the way, child
.
And even when you’re standing still.

A confidence filled her, a conviction that goodness she could barely imagine waited around the corner. As she pondered her new possibilities, Boomer scratched at the back door.
Lord, subdue Boomer for a few minutes. I want to stay in this holy place a little longer.

The scratching subsided and Dorie stretched out next to Emma, praying until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

She woke to slobbering licks on her arms and legs. As her eyes focused, Boomer lifted her hand with his nose. She rubbed him behind his ears. “How did you get in?”

“I let him in.” Josh leaned against the doorframe.

Emma jumped into bed with Dorie. “Are you all slept out, Mommy?”

“I think so. What have you guys been up to?”

Emma giggled as she patted Dorie’s hair. “Mr. Bear and I helped Josh build a fort with his new Legos. And I didn’t throw up this time.”

Inspiration kicked her senses. “Anyone up for a marathon of Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders?”

“Yeppers—I mean, yes.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon traversing through imaginary swamps and sugary landscapes, sliding, climbing, and scooting around game boards.

Dorie had the best time of her life.

Chapter Eighteen

Monday … a new set of challenges. She’d planned every detail of the morning to assure that dog and kids would be fed, everyone dressed, and beds made. Then she’d drop Emma off at her mother’s and take Josh to school.

She hit the alarm at 5:45. But the bed felt so warm, she lingered a few extra minutes. She took two deep breaths and pushed herself toward the day, taking a brief moment to look out the window. A thick blanket from last night’s snowfall covered the ground. She opened the door for Boomer, who scooted back inside, the frigid air biting like a hundred mosquitos.

She nudged Josh awake and felt the warm, wet sheets. She hadn’t factored an extra wash load into the equation of a hectic morning. She scurried to put the linen in the washing machine, then rushed to wake up Emma, who stood in front of her mirror dressed in Dorie’s skirt, makeup smeared across her face. Nor had she counted on Emma’s impromptu theatrics.

“Emma, these are not the clothes you were supposed to put on. Remember? You’re going to go see your school today?”

Dorie ushered Emma into the bathroom for a quick repair and handed her the pink pant suit Dorie had selected the night before. While Emma dressed, Dorie checked on Josh, who crawled on all fours.

“Mom, I can’t find my sneakers.”

Boomer’s bark at the kitchen door bellowed throughout the house.

Now what?

When Dorie let him out, he pawed through a snow drift and came back in the house with Josh’s sneakers dangling from his mouth. Dorie threw them in the dryer.

She corralled the children for breakfast, and while they ate, she prepared Josh’s backpack for his day. She pulled out a crumpled paper. Great! Josh was supposed to bring a treat for a school party today. Now she’d have to make a stop at the store. She’d be horribly late. On her first day too.

When finally in the car, proud that she remembered to put Boomer into the cellar, she buckled her seatbelt and turned the key. Nothing.

“Out of the car, kids. We have to come up with Plan B.”

Josh giggled. “That means you’re gonna call Grandpa.”

Too smart for his own good.

Back inside the house, she motioned for the children to sit on the couch while she called her parents.

“Good morning.” Normally, Dorie thrived on Mom’s cheerfulness. Not today.

“I’m not having a good morning. My car won’t start. Could you come and get us? I’ll get a new battery tonight. Would Daddy put it in for me?”

“As soon as the phone rang, your father put on his coat and walked out the door. He predicted you’d be in a fix.”

She was four years old again, having to run to Mommy and Daddy with the silliest of problems—one that could have been avoided if she’d listened to his advice in the first place. “Will you pick me up for Emma’s interview at daycare?”

“Of course.”

Daddy arrived and signaled the kids out the door. “Let’s go. Your mother’s running behind schedule.”

Like baby partridges, the kids and Dorie waddled behind Daddy to his car. He drove the first mile in silence.

Is this what I can expect every day, Lord?

The answer bloomed in her heart.

You planned your morning with great diligence but forgot the most important aspect. Me.

“Forgive me, please.”

“Already have,” Daddy said. She’d spoken to a different Father. Good to know she’d earned forgiveness from her earthly one as well. “I’ll jump the car and then take it in for a new battery and tune-up this morning. Probably have them put on new tires too. As soon as your play’s over, we’re going shopping for a four-wheel drive. If you want, you can keep Devon’s car in our garage until you’re ready to part with it. No more discussion on the matter.”

She wanted to rebel as she had done since she moved to Midville. Not today. Today she felt her love in his stubbornness. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

He scowled at the compliment. “Your mother will pick you up for Emma’s orientation. Okay?”

She couldn’t resist. “’Kay.”

Daddy pulled into the back parking lot of Bargains Galore two minutes before eight. Dorie handed him her car keys and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Reaching into the back, she hugged the children.

Now, if she could only survive the next four hours.

Chapter Nineteen

At the alarm’s blare, Jamey raced to the back of the store. Dorie panted while she inserted the key every which way but right. He stifled his laugh and let her in, then punched the security code to stop the alarm before it automatically rang at the police station. “Right on time.”

“I thought you might have car trouble in this cold spell. When I saw your dad at church yesterday, he said you still needed a new battery.”

“Daddy’s taking care of it this morning. He worries about me too much.”

Sherrie stepped out from behind a display of ribbons and wrapping paper. “We received a new shipment of Christmas supplies late yesterday. I thought I should get these into stock right away.”

“Great work, Chief.” Jamey offered his usual salute. Dorie’s face twitched, like Pop’s when Jamey rehearsed his lines aloud. “Don’t worry, Dorie. An inside joke. Sherrie was in the army before she came to work for Pop. Probably why she’s so efficient.”

Sherrie emptied a bag of artificial wreaths into a bin. “Don’t pay any attention, Dorie. He has a nickname for Elton too: ‘Frat Boy’.”

Jamey’s cheeks reached new levels of hot. He pointed to the stairwell. “Okay, Blondie, follow me.”

Dorie stopped in her tracks. “Robbie Dumont called me Blondie in the fourth grade—only once. I gave him a black eye.”

“Sorry. Poor choice.”

She offered a big smile.

Whew.

She hesitated at the bottom of the stairwell. “Tigger.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just now. You bounced like Tigger.”

“I don’t normally. I’m a little rushed today.”

“If you’re going to call me Blondie, I get to call you Tigger.”

“No need to insult me.”

“Not an insult at all. It’s kind of cute.”

“How about we just stick to Jamey and Dorie?”

“Fair enough.”

Jamey nodded toward the welcome banner. Dorie’s glance veered toward the vase of flowers he’d put on her desk. “Thank you. My! You and Sherrie went to a lot of trouble to make me feel at home. A chair, a sign, flowers …”

She shivered. He’d have to keep it warmer for her. “Sorry it’s so cold in here. These North Country winters take a little getting used to.” He turned up the thermostat. “The flowers came from the store. Feel free to grab a fresh supply anytime—and that goes for anything else you need. There’s a special code we use at the register.”

Jamey pulled an armful of ledgers from a bookshelf and put them on her desk. Every tax season our accountant hollers at us to upgrade. I told him you were coming to work for us, and he whooped for joy.”

“I’ll try not to let you down.”

As if that’s possible.
“Tech’ support will be here next week for training and implementation. In the meantime, you can read through these to get a handle on our company history. Coffee?”

“Yes, I barely managed a few sips this morning.”

“Black, right?”

“You remembered?”

“Useless talents, I suppose, but I have a heightened ability to memorize numbers, the kind of car a person drives, and the way people like their coffee.”

Especially beautiful blondes.

***

Dorie opened the volumes of dusty ledgers, including the company’s earliest journals. She found an entry dated February 1973, the day James Sullivan, Sr. purchased the century-old Midville General Market:
I pray that the Good Lord will keep me humble and true. May this enterprise He’s given me today be a light in this community.

Next she opened Sherrie’s ledgers dating back two decades—as meticulous in detail as they were in penmanship. Though the pages were frayed and yellowed, her numbers stood bold and certain, accounting every dime in and out. Dorie opened a file drawer to examine how the hard copies were stored. Equally as organized, these files were arranged alphabetically by vendor, each tab neatly labeled.

“Here’s your coffee.”

Startled, she tipped over the vase, making a split-second save before water and flowers could spew across the ledgers.

“Great catch. I should call you Johnny Bench instead of Blondie.” He set a filled coffee cup on her desk.

The front of the cup featured an orange-yellow sun breaking through a gray cloud above the inscription:
I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love (Psalm 59:16).

“Thank you. I like the verse.”

“Most of the employees are believers. That’s another reason Pop wanted me to hire you.”

How could she describe her shaken and reforming faith? Jamey gave her more credit in the religious department than she deserved. Shaken and transforming? Undefined? “I’m impressed with Sherrie’s bookwork. She should have my job.”

“But the only thing I know about computers is how to turn them on.”

Dorie turned toward the voice. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Sherrie smiled. “You couldn’t hear a lead-footed gorilla come up these stairs. Don’t worry. This is Midville. Nobody bothers anybody in this town. You’ll find the office very quiet, except when Mr. Sullivan’s here.”

“The Chief doesn’t like my taste in music.”

Sherrie leaned and whispered. “He plays Christian rock. I like the old hymns.”

An ear-splitting silence followed for a few uncomfortable seconds, as if they waited for Dorie’s response. “I like both. Having kids helps me funnel out irritating noises.”

Bad wording, Dorie.

Sherrie drummed the desk. “Well, we’ll try to keep the music down while you’re here.”

“No need. I like music when I work. Seriously, I like all kinds of music.” Dorie took a big gulp of coffee. No wonder silence is golden. If you never say anything, you never have to explain yourself.

Jamey took a long sip before continuing. “Later this morning, we’ll take a quick spin to the other stores so I can introduce you.” He went into his cubicle. Soon choral praise music filled the air. Dorie returned to Sherrie’s ledgers and lost herself in a tale of remittances and receipts.

“Ready to go?”

She jumped at Jamey’s voice. He stood in front of her desk as silently as if he’d beamed in and out of her cubicle. She glanced at her watch. Was it ten already? “Yeah, sure.”

Each store visit went like a play script, with Jamey introducing Dorie to the manager and spieling what her position would do for the company.

When her stomach growled, she checked the time on her cell. Noon already? How nice to be so absorbed in her work that she lost track of time. Daddy was right: a career should be like golf, pleasant and focused.

Thank you, God, for this job.

Dorie and Jamey returned to Bargains Galore as Mom pulled into the parking lot. The noon sun beamed a promise of warmer temperatures.

Jamey walked her toward Mom’s car. “See you tomorrow. No rehearsal tonight. Danny has to go to his kid’s piano recital. I’m on the Advisory Board for the Little Red Hen Preschool, and I already put in a good word for Emma.”