It Really IS a Wonderful Life: The Snowflake Falls but Hearts in Love Keep a Home Warm All Year Long (3 page)

Publicity?
“How did you find that out?”

“I asked if he planned to cast you. I like to see new people get involved. Seems like we have the same players in every production.” He rocked on his feet as if wanting to say more.

She opened the car door and slid behind the wheel, then lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. Mom’s wisdom could always be counted on. Why be angry with someone who wasn’t even aware they’d done anything offensive?

“Until next week?”

Jamey tipped his cap like a backwoods Sir Galahad. “Unless a greater Power than Midville theater group throws us together before then.”

Chapter Three

You drink too much of this stuff
. Dorie dumped her coffee into the sink, then switched the landline to her other ear. “It’s only a small part, Mom. Even Meryl Streep had to start somewhere. I’m sure it will lead to better things.” Mom could make a workhorse feel like a prized thoroughbred.

“Of course, the children can stay with me while you’re at practices.”

“I think it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“Goodness knows you’ve not let yourself have any for too long.”

“Rehearsals begin Monday night. I’ll have to go only a few times for my part, but I’m going to help with props and publicity too … ouch!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Josh just hit me in the ankle with his bike. Hold on a minute. He knows better than to ride his bike in the house.”

Dorie put the phone down and brought Josh and his bike to a halt. “Bikes are for outside, young man.”

“It’s raining. I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you color?”

“I don’t want to.” The bike crashed to the floor, narrowly missing her feet as Josh stormed out of the kitchen.

Should she go after him? Make him apologize? Why did he edge her into corners, make everything a challenge? Perhaps she should be more lenient. He’d lost his father, after all. Devon would’ve known how to handle Josh’s outburst. When he used to ask the kids to mind their mother, their behavior improved like magic—at least for a few days. She
should
send Josh to his room. Instead, she let his tantrum ride and resumed her conversation with Mom. “Sorry for the interruption. Josh has been miserable today.”

“At six, boys are tougher to manage. When your children are teenagers, you’ll be glad you have only one girl.”

“I don’t want to think about the kids getting older.” Dorie gazed at the drizzling rain, her heart as droopy as the chrysanthemums in her window box. “Why does it always rain on Saturday?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“I suppose so. Can I call you back later? The kids are probably hungry.”

When Dorie put the receiver back on the cradle, inspiration hit her. She grabbed Boomer by the collar and wrestled him into the cellar. “Sorry, Boomer, an evil necessity. We won’t be away long. Emma! Josh! Go get your coats. We’re going out for pizza.”

Josh dashed for the closet.

Clutching her oversized stuffed toy, Emma scrambled off the recliner. “Can I bring Mr. Bear?”

Dorie smiled at Emma’s faithful companion. “If he promises to behave himself.”

Emma leaned her ear against his black-buttoned mouth. “He says he’ll be good.”

Dorie took pleasure in Emma’s three-year old antics as she rummaged through the closet, examining each article from the bottom, the apex of her reach. Then she pulled down her favorite yellow raincoat. She held Mr. Bear with one hand and eased the other into the opposite sleeve. Her impatience blared like an out-of-tune trumpet. “I’m hurrying, Mommy, but my coat’s all stuck.”

“Come here, honey.” Dorie kissed Emma on the head and drank in the lingering strawberry scent left in her blonde ringlets after her morning bath. “Are we all set? Last one to get into the car has to sing Smelly Pants.”

Emma sprinted out the door while Josh leaned on the wall by the closet, his jacket half on. “There’s no such song Mommy. Billy Townsend told me so. You made that up so we wouldn’t lollygag.”

“Maybe so, Josh. But I’d still appreciate it if you’d hurry up.”

“Yeppers.”

“The word is ‘yes,’ Josh.”

“Yes, Josh.”

Patience, Dorie.

Once Emma was safely buckled in, Dorie circled to the other side to help Josh with his booster seat. “I got it already.”

“Good for you.”
Stop growing so fast, Josh.

By the time Dorie pulled into the Pizza Barn, the drizzle had calmed to a mere mist. She parked in the first available space. Before Dorie could stop him, Josh burst from the car and rushed toward the entrance. She shouted toward his scurrying form, “You wait for us by the door.”

She reached into the car to help Emma out.

“Hello, Dorie!”

When she turned toward the slightly familiar male voice, she knocked her head against the door. Not hard, thankfully, embarrassment the only pain. Jamey Sullivan leaned against a gray Nissan next to her Cavalier. He pulled his Yankees cap over his face, probably to hide his laughter.

“I’m glad we came along for your amusement.”

“I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. The pizza’s on me.”

Now how was this supposed to work? They eat separately and she sends him the bill?

Seemed a little ungrateful. She’d decided to forgive Jamey for not hiring her, but did she want to share a meal with him?

Get over it, Dorie
. It’s just a pizza, not a date. “I’ll take you up on that offer, but only if you join us.”

Emma tugged at her mother’s sweater. “Mr. Bear is super hungry. Can we go in now?”

Josh yelled from the curb. “Come on, Mom.”

“Jamey, you don’t know what you’re in for.”

With a broad smile he squatted, meeting Emma’s gaze. “Does Mr. Bear like pizza?”

She tunneled underneath her mother’s trench coat, Mr. Bear’s buttons peeking out aside Emma’s blue eyes.

“Emma, this is Mr. Sullivan. Can you say hello?”

“Please. Just Jamey. Mr. Sullivan reminds me of my tenth-grade maths teacher, and we didn’t get along very well.”

“Okay. Just Jamey. Over there, trying to look like a twenty-something know-it-all, is my son Josh.”

Jamey waved toward the bench where a fidgety Josh squirmed with impatience. He harpooned them both with a scowl as if Devon condemned her through his son’s eyes. She shrugged off the guilt.

You’re being irrational, Dorie
.

Jamey had been polite, nothing more. Kind too. Not put off by sulking preschoolers and judgmental sons.

Dorie inched Emma from her hiding place. She scrunched behind her mother’s back. “Emma’s a little shy. She’ll warm up.”

“That’s okay. I’m used to kids. They need their space when it comes to strangers.”

Jamey motioned to a waiter, who then led the group to a large booth. As they approached, Jamey answered the question dangling in Dorie’s mind - how he was used to kids but here alone. “I’m a Boy Scout leader, Sunday School teacher, and a Little League coach.”

Dorie tugged off Emma’s jacket. Emboldened with uncharacteristic courage, she shot Jamey her double-dare-you-to-scare-me glare, a Fitzgerald trademark. Meeting her challenge, he squatted again. “Where should Mr. Bear sit? Would he like to be by the window?”

In spite of her best efforts to avoid him, Dorie warmed toward this odd man willing to humble himself before a stuffed animal to bring a child comfort. She saw him not as the man who wouldn’t hire her but as someone she’d like to know better.

Unexpectedly, Josh threw his wet outer clothes onto the bench and sat on top of the heap. “I want the window too! Emma has room on the other side.”

Josh could be obnoxious sometimes, but he’d never been this rude. “That’s not polite, Josh.”

Jamey stood up again. “Mind if I join you then, Josh? This can be the men’s side.”

Josh nodded approval. Jamey sat, then jumped back up. He rubbed the seat of his jeans. “Only water. It’ll dry.”

Emma plunked Mr. Bear by the window and scrambled up next to her constant companion. She glanced at the bear for a moment then, slid him across the table to Jamey. “Mr. Bear wants to sit with the men too.”

Jamey secured Emma’s treasure between the humans. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Bear.”

A teenager chuckled as he approached with the place settings. “Should I get an extra plate for the bear?”

“No more bad comic routines, Lance—if you want a tip. We’ll need a few minutes to decide on our order.”

“Just so you know, my shift ends in an hour.”

An odd exchange, even by North Country standards. “How do you know Lance?”

“He’s one of my older scouts.” Jamey glanced toward a teen mimicking a Popish wave. “Lance recently earned a merit badge for community service. I should take it back for insubordination.”

Dorie’s laugh harmonized with Jamey’s. As he described his scouts and their projects, her cheeks warmed with his attention. Did her eyes shimmer like his? Was this flirting? She hadn’t danced with a man’s intentions since Devon’s last deployment. Right or wrong, the tingle enticed her to keep in step with Jamey’s lead.

That is until clunks and wobbles ended the tango.

Josh leaned across the table wildly thrusting his fork into his plate.

“Joshua Devon Fitzgerald. We don’t lie across a table. And silverware is for eating, not playing. Now sit down and behave.

“Watch, Mom. I can make the spoon an airplane!” He dropped his fork, picked up his spoon, and threw it across the booth, the tip hitting Emma on the head. The erupting scream provoked stares from all directions.

“Joshua!”

She quickly assessed Emma’s injury … only a slight red mark.

Devon, why aren’t you here to take charge?

Josh could be obstinate and creatively annoying at times, but these stunts were over the top, even for him. Devon would have said to remove the erring child from the environment.

“I’m sorry, Jamey. I appreciate your kindness, but I can’t let Josh get away with this kind of public display. I need to take him home.”

She turned to Josh. “Put on your coat. Your behavior is not acceptable, and you know it. We’re leaving.” She stood for emphasis, then helped Emma wriggle into her rain gear. “Again, I’m so sorry, Jamey.”
More sorry than you can imagine.
“I hope you understand. Another time?”

Josh grabbed his coat and crawled over Jamey’s lap.

“Joshua, you’re supposed to say excuse me. Now apologize to Jamey.”

Josh threw his coat on the floor.

“No!”

This is not my son.

Dorie pulled Josh to her side and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “I told you to apologize.”

Josh scowled, his face sullen with resistance. “Fine. But I won’t mean it.” He looked at Jamey, his tone flat. “I’m sorry, Jamey.”

“Maybe you didn’t mean it, but I’ll accept it anyway.”

What must Jamey think of her now? He might have been attracted to her before, but no man in his right mind would want to date a woman with bratty kids. Only, Josh and Emma weren’t brats to her. They were kids. Kids without a father. She was doing the best she could to raise them alone.

Jamey stood, his head cocked to the side. “Can I call you?”

She prodded Emma with her free hand, then headed toward the exit, shouting back over her shoulder, “Yeah, sure.”

As if he would. Not after this debacle.

***

Jamey scrunched his lips to one side. What just happened? Things had seemed to be going well. Not that he wrote the book on flirting, but there was definite interest in those blue eyes. Then swish … she was out the door without even giving him her phone number.

It was for the best. He had nothing against the kids. He liked kids, although Dorie’s seemed a handful and a half. It wouldn’t be fair to her or the kids to get involved now. At tryouts he’d noticed she didn’t wear a wedding band, but these kids had to have a father someplace. Jamey’s presence in their lives might be too much for them to sort through. Besides, he’d sworn off women until he returned to New York City. It would be best for everyone if he didn’t call her.

Jamey reached to zip his coat when a blob of brown fur caught his attention. Dorie had forgotten Emma’s Mr. Bear. He picked it up. He could return it at read-through. But Emma seemed as attached to the toy as she was to her mother. What if she went into a meltdown when she discovered Mr. Bear was missing? What if Dorie dragged the kids back here only to find the bear was gone?

Jamey pulled out his Android. “Danny, could you pull out Dorie Fitzgerald’s audition sheet? I need her address.”

Danny laughed. “Any ulterior motive there, Romeo?”

“It’s not what you think. I found something that belongs to her. I’d like to return it, that’s all.”

Chapter Four

Dorie directed Josh to the couch. “Park it there, buddy. I’m taking Emma upstairs to finish her nap. Then you and I are going to talk.”

He moaned, threw himself on his knees, and laid his head on the tweed upholstery.

When she came downstairs she let Boomer out of the cellar, then peeked into the living room. Josh was sprawled on the couch, still wearing his wet rain gear and soaked sneakers. Pulling him upright, she sat next to him. “Your shoes wouldn’t be so wet if you hadn’t stomped in that patio puddle. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I feel all mad inside.”

Dorie put the back of her hand against his flushed cheek. “You’re a little warm. Do you hurt anywhere?”

With no warning, he bent over and spewed vomit across the room, most of it landing on Dorie’s skirt. “Oh, sweetie. You’re sick. Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t feel well?”

“I wanted pizza.”

“Come with me. We’ll put on your pajamas. I want you to go to bed for a little while, but first I’ll need to check your temperature.” She helped Josh upstairs. “Rest on your bed a minute while I get out of this skirt.” She hurried to change into a pair of jeans, then to Josh’s temperature.

A hundred and one degrees. “Looks like you have a fever. A nap might help you feel better.”

His eyelids drooped. “Mommy, do you like Jamey?”

“He seems nice. You weren’t very nice to him, though.”

“I felt mad.”