Call Me Mrs Miracle. Debbie Macomber
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bookkeeper was quick to defend Holly. “Yes, but she’s looking after her nephew while her brother’s in Afghanistan. This hasn’t been easy for her, you know.”
Lindy Lee whirled around and Holly moved from her line of vision in the nick of time. She flattened herself against the wall and continued to listen.
“Yes, yes, I met the boy this weekend. She brought him on Saturday when she came in to decorate.”
“On her own time,” Marsha said pointedly.
“True, but if she managed her time better, Holly could’ve done it earlier. As it is, the decorations are up much later than in previous years. If I was giving out bleeding-heart awards this Christmas, I’d make sure Holly got one. No, I won’t change my mind,” she snapped as Marsha began to protest. “A bonus is a bonus, and as far as I’m concerned Holly doesn’t deserve one. It’s about merit, you know, and going the extra mile, and she hasn’t done that.”
Holly gasped.
“But—”
“I’ve made my decision.”
Marsha didn’t argue further.
Holly didn’t blame her. The bookkeeper had tried. Holly felt tears well up but blinked them away. She was a good employee; she worked hard. While Lindy Lee was correct—these days she did leave the office on time—there’d been many a night earlier in the year when she’d stayed late without being asked. She’d often gone that extra mile for her employer. Yet all Lindy seemed to remember was the past three months.
She felt sick to her stomach. So there’d be no bonus for her. Although the amount of money wasn’t substantial—maybe five hundred dollars—it would’ve made all the difference. But somehow, she promised herself, she’d find a way to buy Gabe his special Christmas toy.
* * *
Even though she was distracted by her financial worries, Holly managed to enjoy dinner with Jake and Gabe that evening. Jake brought chopsticks along with their take-out Chinese—an order large enough to feed a family of eight. Several of the dishes were new to Holly. He’d chosen moo shu pork and shrimp in lobster sauce, plus barbecue pork, egg rolls, fried rice and almond fried chicken.
Gabe loved every minute of their time with Jake. As he so eloquently said, “It’s nice being around a guy.”
“I don’t know,” Jake commented as he slipped his arm around Holly’s waist. “Women aren’t so bad.”
Gabe considered his comment carefully. “Aunt Holly’s okay, I guess.”
“You guess,” she sputtered. Using her chopsticks she removed the last bit of almond fried chicken from her nephew’s plate.
“Hey, that was mine,” Gabe cried.
“That’s what you get for criticizing women,” Holly told him, and then, to prove her point, she reached for his fried dumpling, too. In retaliation, Gabe reached across for her egg roll, dropping it on the table.
Jake immediately retrieved it and stuck one end in his mouth. “Five-second rule,” he said just before he bit down.
When they’d finished, they cleared the table and settled down in front of the television.
As Jake flipped through the channels, Gabe asked, “When are we gonna put up the Christmas tree?”
“This week,” Holly told him. She’d need to budget carefully now that she wasn’t going to get her bonus. The tree—she’d hoped to buy a real one—was an added expense she’d planned to cover with the extra money. This year she’d have to resort to the small artificial tree she’d stuck in the back of her coat closet.
The news that she wouldn’t be receiving the bonus was devastating. Holly’s first instinct had been to strike back. If everyone else was getting a bonus, it didn’t seem fair that she wasn’t. Still, Lindy Lee had a point. Holly hadn’t been as dedicated to her job since Gabe came into her life. She had other responsibilities now.
That afternoon she’d toyed with the idea of looking for a new job. She could walk out—that would show Lindy Lee. Reason quickly asserted itself. She couldn’t leave her job and survive financially. It could take her months to find a new one. And although this was an entry-level position, the chance to advance in the fashion world was an inducement she simply couldn’t reject that easily. She’d made friends at the office, too. Friends like Marsha, who’d willingly defended her to their employer.
Besides, if she left her job, there’d be dozens who’d leap at the opportunity to take her place. No, Holly would swallow her disappointment and ride this out until Mickey returned. Next Christmas would be different.
“Can Jake help decorate the Christmas tree?” Gabe asked.
Jake was sitting next to her and Holly felt him tense. His face was pale, his expression shocked.
“Jake.” Holly said his name softly and laid her hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Sorry, no decorating trees for me this year,” he said in an offhand way.
“Why not?” Gabe pressed. “It’s really fun. Aunt Holly said she’d make popcorn and we’d have cider. She has some ornaments from when she and my dad were kids. She won’t let me see them until we put up the tree. It’ll be lots of fun.” His young face pleaded with Jake to reconsider.
Holly gently placed her hand on her nephew’s shoulder. “Jake said another time,” she reminded him. Jake hadn’t participated in any of the usual Christmas traditions or activities in more than twenty years, ever since he’d lost his mother and sister.
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