The Christmas Wish, page 19
Wade collapsed laughing, and when Bridgette came stomping up the hall and saw him doubled over, she whacked him on the shoulder.
“You are so bad!”
“I couldn’t help it,” Wade said.
“To quote you, Wade Montgomery…I call bullshit. You could help it. You just didn’t want to.”
Wade was still laughing when he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from whacking him again and held on until Bridgette was laughing, too.
“Okay. This is all entertaining, but what the heck is going on?” Roger asked.
“It’s just a rubber mouse,” Joe said as he picked it up.
“Come on, guys… Let us in on the joke,” Donny said.
“Let me go,” Bridgette said.
“Are you gonna hit me again?” Wade asked.
“No. Once was sufficient,” she said, and then walked over to Joe and held out her hand. “May I have my mouse back, please?”
Joe dropped it in her hands, and then they all stood watching her, waiting.
“It’s no big deal,” Bridgette said. “Wade had to come over to my apartment last night to dispatch a mouse.”
“How do you dispatch a mouse? Was it in a trap or running loose?”
“Oh, it wasn’t going anywhere,” Wade said, grinning.
Bridgette led with her chin. “It was running. I sprayed it with bug spray, okay?”
Wade gently brushed a curl away from her forehead. “But it wasn’t really bug spray, was it, honey?”
Bridgette sniffed. “And here I thought you loved me.”
He frowned. “And here I thought rescuing the mouse you glued to the floor is the ultimate proof of my love.”
All three men turned and stared at Bridgette in disbelief.
“Damn, Birdie. Why would you want to glue a mouse to the floor?”
She sighed. “I did not mean to do it. I thought I was using bug spray, but it turned out to be upholstery adhesive. I’m redoing a chair. The mouse jumped out of it…and oh well…it’s a long story. I wanted it dead, and then it was so teeny…and stuck…and I freaked and didn’t want it dead anymore. And Wade got it loose and took it to a new home. I don’t want to know where. I am going back to work now. Thank you for my mouse, Wade. I am going to name it Peanut Butter.”
She turned on one heel, strode back down the hall with the rubber mouse, and went into her office.
Wade had his hands in his pockets, watching her go. He was grinning.
“I am so going to pay for that,” he said.
They nodded solemnly, eyeing him with new respect.
Roger frowned. “Uh…Wade?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you unstick a mouse glued to the floor?” he asked.
“Without killing it,” Joe added.
“Peanut butter. Google it. It works.”
***
Ruby opened the Curl Up and Dye, and then as soon as the girls showed up, she headed to Savannah. She didn’t have an appointment until afternoon, and she was on a mission. There were still families in the Bottoms who were struggling, and she and Peanut had decided that instead of getting each other expensive Christmas gifts, they wanted to get something for someone else. He’d left the choice of the gift and the recipients to her.
It was rare that she went anywhere alone these days, and even more unusual to leave town, because she was always at work. But not this morning.
The sky was full of white, puffy clouds, but the sun was shining, Christmas music was on her favorite radio station, and she was making good time.
Within an hour, she reached the outskirts of Savannah and turned on her GPS to get her to her destination. She’d been looking online for days. Her problem had quickly become obvious early on, that the only place within reason that carried what she wanted was in Atlanta, which was hours and hours away. But then last night she’d spotted a possibility on an online site in Savannah. She’d made a phone call, then asked for an address and an appointment time to view, and now she was here.
She pulled up into the parking lot of a Methodist church and called the man she was meeting to let him know she was here. Then she got out and slung her purse over her shoulder, waiting for him to emerge from the church.
Within a couple of minutes, a short, stocky man wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants came out to meet her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Butterman. I’m Sean Patrick, the pastor here.”
“Good morning to you, too, and please call me Ruby.”
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. So you’re interested in the shuttle van we have for sale?”
“Yes.”
“Then follow me,” he said, talking as they walked around to the parking lot at the back of the church. “We bought the van new in 2010, so it’s going on eleven years old. It has over a hundred and fifty thousand miles on it. It’s never been wrecked. And we’ve taken good care of it. There it is, parked next to our new van. Our church has actually outgrown it, which is good, but keeping it tagged and insured when we can’t transport the number of children we need to anymore isn’t, budget-wise. So the board opted to sell it. It runs great. It just doesn’t serve our purpose anymore.”
Ruby’s heart was pounding as she eyed the shuttle van.
“How many does it seat?” she asked.
“Twenty-five, and it has seat belts. The heat and air work, and we put new tires on it less than eight months ago.”
“What are you asking for it?” she said.
He paused, eyeing the intent expression on her face.
“If I may ask out of curiosity, what are you going to do with it? I mean…is it going to another church or—”
“No, not a church. I live in Blessings. It’s a little town about an hour out of Savannah. It’s a very special place to all of us who live there. We have troubles and sometimes bad things happen, but we always manage to find a way to pull together and make things right. Last year, a woman who came into a large sum of money went to the poorest section of our town. It’s called the Bottoms. And she proceeded, with her own money, to buy the property from an absentee landlord and fix up every shack and shanty there. She remodeled them, replaced appliances, put in heat and air they didn’t have, and even bought new furniture. It put us all to shame that we’d seen their need for many years but hadn’t made it our business to do what should have been done.
“They still have needs. A lot of them don’t have vehicles, or they only have the one, and that leaves families at home, unable to go get groceries or get to a doctor when the need arises. Which brings me to the reason I’m here. My husband and I want to gift the Bottoms with their own little shuttle bus. Their own Uber, so to speak. Families will have a way to go to the store and the pharmacy and get their hair done if they want to or take their kids to the park to play. This would be our Christmas gift to them. We’ll have donations to pay for the insurance for it. But I need to know the asking price. It wasn’t in the ad, and I don’t want to drive it, fall in love with it, and then realize we can’t afford it.”
The pastor was touched by the story and her purpose. It was such a loving, giving thing to do.
“The price is negotiable,” he said. “Let’s go for a ride. You drive. If you’re nervous, just drive around the parking lot for a bit. It’s nice and empty right now. But if you’re good to go, let’s hit some city traffic.”
“I’m good,” Ruby said.
He unlocked the door, got in, sat in the driver’s seat, and started the van up so he could show her how to open and close the door and where all of the instruments were that she’d need to use. Then he got up and gave her the seat.
Ruby buckled up, put the van in gear, and drove out of the parking lot and onto the street, then took off with the pastor in the seat behind her, giving her places to turn, instructions on how to watch both of the exterior side-view mirrors, and how much space she needed to make turns.
By the time they headed back to the church, Ruby was sold on it, but she still didn’t know if she could buy it. She pulled back up into the parking lot and drove the van back around behind the church, then stopped and turned off the key.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked.
“It’s perfect for what they need, but how much?”
“The board has given me discretion to sell it at a reasonable price. What were you planning to spend?”
“Ten thousand dollars is my cutoff point.”
Sean Patrick smiled. “How about eight, and I’ll throw in a tank of gas to get you home.”
Ruby gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, ma’am. And one day, I’d love to come to Blessings and see your little shuttle service at work.”
“Oh, thank you!” Ruby cried. “You’d be most welcome anytime. I can write you a check for it this minute, only I don’t have a way to get it back to Blessings today. I can arrange to have it picked up tomorrow, though. There are always willing volunteers in Blessings.”
“Then come into my office. I have the title in my desk. I can sign it and my secretary can notarize my signature and yours, and then you can file the title in your name when you get home.”
“Could I have some kind of bill of sale, too?” Ruby asked. “Since this is a charitable donation?”
“Absolutely. Follow me. Just give my phone number to whomever you send to pick it up, and I’ll come out to show them where it’s at.”
“Yes, yes, I will,” Ruby said. She paused to take a couple of pictures of the shuttle and then followed him inside.
About a half hour later, she left Savannah with two sets of car keys, the title, and a bill of sale. Now all she had to do was tell Peanut what she’d done. He probably wasn’t expecting this, but he had left it up to her, and she knew her man well enough to know that he was going to be as excited about this as she was.
Now all she had to do was get home and get through the rest of the day without spilling the beans. It was hard for Ruby to keep a secret and the good Lord knew it.
***
While Ruby was on her way back to Blessings, Ant Roland was walking into Blessings Elementary to take pictures. He entered the principal’s office and paused at the secretary’s desk.
“I’m Ant Roland, the photographer for the newspaper. I think Principal Winston is expecting me.”
Reneta Cole, the school secretary, looked up, blinked, and then picked up the phone and buzzed her boss. “Mrs. Winston, the photographer is here,” she said, and hung up. “She’ll be right out.”
“Cool,” Ant said.
Moments later, Arlene Winston came out of her office, smiling.
“Mr. Roland. Thank you for coming. The children have just gone into the lunch room, so there will be kids standing in line and some already sitting. I think you should be able to get some good shots for the school page of the paper.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ant said. “Lead the way.”
Arlene stopped to speak to Reneta. “I’ll be back later. You know where to find me if you need me,” she told her, and they walked out the door and then down the hall. “The kids are going to be excited to see you. Some will act like monkeys, and some will hide their faces, but that’s how kids are, you know. Do you have children?”
“Never been married, and none to my knowledge,” Ant said. “But I like kids. I’m gonna have to look into that one of these days. I think I’d be good at it. I didn’t have a father around when I was growing up, so I already know what not to do, right?”
He grinned, and Arlene Winston with the stiff upper lip had the strangest urge to hug him.
“Yes, I would say you do, Ant.”
“Umm, I already smell lunch. What are they having?” he asked.
“It’s hot dog day. Chips or fries, and put on your own toppings. Chocolate chip cookies and fruit. After you’ve taken all the pictures you need, if you can stomach lunch-room cafeteria food, we would love for you to be our guest.”
He beamed. “Oh wow! Yes, ma’am. I’m not picky and I like to eat.”
Arlene hadn’t eaten in the cafeteria more than once a year since she became principal, but she was going to do it today because Mavis Webb was right. This man had a sweet spirit, and she needed a little spirit lift herself.
And then they entered the cafeteria.
“Go ahead and get your candid shots before they all realize you’re here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He pulled his camera out of the bag on his shoulder, adjusted a few settings, and began snapping shots, moving around the room as he did, catching two little girls in snowman pajamas who had already deconstructed their hot dogs and were dunking their french fries in their milk.
He caught one little boy in red and white pajamas and red fuzzy house shoes wadding the hot dog into his mouth in huge bites, and another one dressed in blue pjs who was eating a lunch he’d brought from home with all of the social grace the other little boy was missing.
He got photos of two teachers, both in fuzzy slippers and pajamas, opening milk cartons for some of the little ones and riding herd on the older ones with nothing more than a sharp look.
And then he snapped pics of the cooks, and more kids, and called it done and put his camera back in his bag.
It wasn’t until he and the principal walked up to the line to get a tray that the raucous chatter in the room suddenly stopped.
“They’ve just seen you,” Arlene muttered under her breath.
“Is it okay if I turn around and wave?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she said.
Ant turned around. “Hi, kids. My name is Ant. I’m a photographer. Is it okay if I eat lunch with you today?”
He got almost two hundred nods and maybe three quiet little voices who said yes.
“Awesome,” he said, then got his tray and followed Arlene to the end of a table that was empty.
They sat. And Ant ate and talked to Arlene as if he’d known her for years, while every kid in the room chose to walk behind their table, carrying their trays back to the kitchen on their way outside.
One little boy stepped out of line and walked straight up to Ant.
“Hi. I’m Melvin Lee. Can I touch your hair?”
“If it’s okay with Mrs. Winston,” he said.
She nodded, waiting to see the reaction.
Melvin Lee touched the flat of his hand to the spikes, then pulled back his hand as if he’d been stung.
“Does that hurt?” Melvin Lee asked.
“Doesn’t hurt me. Did it hurt you?” Ant asked.
Melvin Lee shook his head and followed up with another question. “Is that scorpion real?”
“Nope. It’s made of metal, like your lunch box.”
Arlene frowned. “That’s enough, Melvin Lee. Go play.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Melvin Lee said, and took off running.
“Cool kid,” Ant said.
“You have no idea how cool he really is,” Arlene said. “Would you like another hot dog?”
“I’d take one to go, if that is okay?”
“It’s okay,” Arlene said. She got up and went back to the lunch line and came back a couple of minutes later with his hot dog. “It has mustard, but you can go add whatever else you want, and then I’ll walk you out,” she said.
“Oh, I’ll take it just like this,” he said. He wrapped it up in the napkin beneath it and followed her back up the hall, and then paused outside her door. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Winston, and thank you for lunch. It was good.”
“It has been a pleasure meeting you as well, Ant, and please call me Arlene. I’ll look forward to seeing the pictures in the paper.”
“Yes, ma’am…I mean Arlene. Have a nice day.”
“You, too,” she said. She watched him go out the door, then headed back to her office.
“Did you eat in the lunch room?” her secretary asked.
“Yes, why?”
“You have a bit of mustard on your blouse. You might want to get that off with some cold water before it sets.”
Chapter 15
It was almost six o’clock when Ruby locked up the salon and headed home. Peanut’s car was in the drive. She pulled up beside it and got out. She was excited, and anxious, because she wanted him to be as thrilled as she was.
She had already started up the steps when the front door opened.
“Hi, sugar!” Peanut said. “I heard you drive up.”
“Yes, it’s been a day,” Ruby said. “And I can’t wait to tell you what I did.”
He grinned. “Should I be worried?” he asked as he shut the door behind her.
“No, because you told me to make the decision about this, and whatever I chose, you’d be fine with, remember?”
“Oh! Right. The Christmas thing. So what did we do?” he asked.
“Let’s sit down. I’ve been on my feet all afternoon, and I want something cold to drink and the weight off my feet,” she said.
“Then sit, honey. What do you want, pop or tea?”
“Maybe a Coke, if we have any?”
“Done,” he said, and hustled off to the kitchen.
Ruby plopped down on the sofa, and then took the title and the bill of sale out of her purse and held them in her lap.
God, please don’t let him freak out over the money.
He came back, handed her the glass, watching as she took a good drink and then she set it aside.
“A couple of months ago, you said something that got me to thinking,” Ruby said.
Peanut sighed. “Lord. Should I already be kicking myself for talking?”
She frowned. “No. And don’t you dare be negative about this, because it’s for the people who live in the Bottoms.”
“Okay. I’m all about making their lives easier. So what did we do?”
“I’m getting to that,” she said. “I’ve been looking online for weeks and weeks, and finally saw something like what I had in mind. I drove to Savannah this morning to check it out.”
