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Authors: Patricia Kiyono

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BOOK: Christmas Wishes
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Okay, I’m going to speak quietly,” he said through his teeth. “I’ve got my notes app open on my phone and whenever you’re done laughing, I’m ready to write down the names of those potential babysitters and their phone numbers, if you have them.”

Sophie set her cup down. Her twinkling eyes were all that remained of her laughing fit.
“Right. There’s Brenda Lou Hodges, who lives around the corner from you…”

Mitch typed as quickly as he could. Before he knew it
, he had a half dozen names of junior and senior high girls Sophie knew and trusted. The younger ones lived close enough to walk over if necessary.


And if none of them work, there’s always me. Until Christmas, anyway.”

The phone dropped to the table.
“Until Christmas? What happens then?”


Hopefully I’ll be moving to Los Angeles.”


Wh— oh, do you have a job lined up there?”

She faltered.
“Not yet.”


You have family there? Friends? A boyfriend?” Hopefully she hadn’t caught the crack in his voice at the last word.


None of the above,” she answered. “Well, an ex-boyfriend, but that doesn’t count.”


So, uh, what are your plans?” He gave himself another mental slap. Why did he always sound like his father when he was with her?


I’m getting my portfolio ready, and I’ll be contacting agents soon. Hopefully I’ll be able to work on a show and write scripts. And eventually I’d like to write screenplays.”


Oh, that’s — great,” Mitch finished. His stomach churned, and he placed his hand on it.
Must be the omelet I ate this morning. Maybe I didn’t cook those eggs long enough. There’s no way I could be so worked up about her leaving.
“Well, good luck with that.”


Thanks. Well, thanks for the coffee. I’ve got to get this stuff home to Joanie.” She got up and started to push her cart toward the checkout lanes then turned back. “I’m serious about watching Angie. She’s a doll, and it would be no burden at all to take care of her. She pointed to his phone. “Take my number down, too.”

He complied, and then watched her hurry away.

It’s a good thing I hadn’t started investing any feelings in her
, he thought.
She’s leaving.

But deep down, he knew it was probably too late.

 

~
~~~

 

A few tables
away, a scruffy-looking man hunched over his coffee, the brim of his hat covering his eyes. He pretended to read the newspaper in front of him, but his ears were tuned to the conversation between the photographer and the pretty young girl. So he was looking for babysitters. That might be worth reporting. If he needed childcare, that meant either business was picking up for him — or he was starting to have a social life. Either one could be news for his client.

This two-bit town was starting to bug him. There was nothing to do
there for fun. The little mom-and-pop hotel in the next town was clean, but that’s about all he could say about it. Hopefully he’d be able to get whatever his pain-in-the-neck client wanted soon so he could go back to Chicago where he belonged. Why anyone would want to live on the outskirts of civilization was beyond him.

 

Chapter Six

 

S
ophie sat at
attention on the edge of the dainty sofa in Agnes VanMeter’s spotless living room. The china teacup perched on the saucer in her lap, and she held on with both hands, terrified of spilling. She’d never used a real teacup before. Her parents and sister used mugs. Grandma had used china cups on very special occasions, but only with “grownups” and she’d never managed to attain that status in Grandma’s eyes. Come to think of it, her sister hadn’t either, even though Joanie had been in her mid-twenties when Grandma died. This place even smelled like Grandma’s house, although it was a fairly new building. Mrs. VanMeter lived in a retirement complex in Holland, a twenty minute drive from Zutphen.

She focused on the tiny woman seated across from her. Strange, but Mrs. VanMeter hadn
’t seemed so tiny when she’d been her fourth grade teacher. Back then she’d been terrified of the woman, and so had the rest of the class. There hadn’t been any such thing as discipline problems. Nobody dared misbehave.
Maybe that’s why this place is so clean,
Sophie mused. Dust wouldn’t dare settle on any of her furniture.


I was so pleased to hear from you, Sophie. I understand you’ve graduated from Grand Valley State.”


Yes, Mrs. VanMeter.”


And Joanie tells me you’re helping her out with the family, as well as the church Sunday School Christmas Program.”


Yes, ma’am. In fact—”


And how are your parents doing?”


They’re fine. Living in a condo not far from here.”


Excellent. Now that we’ve dispensed with the niceties, why don’t you tell me what I can do for you?”

Gulp. Show time.
“Mrs. VanMeter, I need your advice on handling the kids in the Sunday School program. Most of them are angels, but some of the boys — well, two specifically—”


The Longton twins?”

Sophie blinked then closed her gaping mouth. The teacup rattled in her hands and she held it tighter.
“Yes, ma’am.”

The elder woman sighed.
“Poor Peggy DeSmit. I knew Lyle Longton was trouble the minute he came into my class. But once he turned his attention on Peggy, she was lost. And even now that Lyle is gone, those two boys of his are like having him in stereo.”


Yes, ma’am. They come into the church running and yelling, and they never stop. At the first rehearsal last Wednesday, they knocked over chairs with kids in them. Then when I told them to sit down, they ran headfirst into each other. Doc VanEss was there and checked them out, but when he sent them back to practice, they ran through the sanctuary and tore down the draperies behind the pulpit. Sam had to chase them out of the broom closet twice, and they raced each other all through the pews before four members of the consistory managed to corral them.”


Goodness, they’re worse than I thought! Who brings them to practice?”


Their Grandmother Longton. I’m told she takes care of them three days a week while Peggy works. On Sunday mornings their mother brings them, and they don’t seem to be quite as bad. That’s because all the Sunday School teachers are there with me. On Wednesday nights I’m on my own until Mabel Groendyk, the pianist, comes, but that won’t be until December.”


Martha Longton brings them to practice? Hmm. I think I have an idea. Martha is a prize-winning baker, and she loves those boys. I have a feeling she spoils them and fills them full of sugar before they come.”


What can I do? I can’t control what they eat before they come.”


No, you can’t, but you can give them some incentives to behave. I watched part of your first practice with them last week. I was coming out of the Ladies’ Aid Society meeting and heard you in the choir room. You had those kids engaged because you had a plan, and you didn’t have any down time. The kids were moving — which is what kids that age need to do. Build more things like that into your rehearsals, and they’ll behave. Especially when you tell them that if they don’t behave, you’ll take the fun things out of the show.”


That makes sense. I’ll have to work on ways to keep the chorus involved in the entire show.” She frowned. “And I’ll talk to the boys’ grandmother.”


No, you leave Martha to me. Martha isn’t going to listen to a young girl like you. She might not listen to me, either, but I have an idea. Just plan your practice and I’ll be at the church before your rehearsal starts.”

 

~~~~

 

By the following
Wednesday, Sophie had found ways to incorporate the entire group in more of the show, thanks to suggestions from Joey’s music teacher. She couldn’t wait to see what Mrs. VanMeter had planned.

At exactly five fifty-seven, the twins entered the building. If their double stomping footsteps hadn
’t signaled her, the high-pitched screeches would have. She heard their grandmother admonishing them to be quiet and hang their coats up. Sophie had seen the way they hung their coats — on the floor beneath the pegs.

At five fifty-nine, the stampede entered the choir room. She heard a pinging noise just before the candle arrangement on top of the piano toppled to the floor. Another ping sounded, followed by a crack as a tiny miss
ile hit the music stand, sending several sheets of music to the floor.

Sophie took a deep breath, preparing for another confrontation with the twin tornadoes. But before she could say a thing, a stern voice rang out.

“Joshua Longton, come here this instant!”

She turned. Martha Longton
stood in the doorway. Sophie spotted Agnes VanMeter behind her. The twins’ grandmother had her hands at her hips and a no-nonsense expression. Josh actually froze. And then the child started walking to his grandma. Slowly. Sniffling. He knew he was in trouble. His brother, who had started running up the side aisle with his own slingshot, watched his twin with a mixture of fear and relief that it wasn’t him walking the plank toward his judge and jury. Sophie noticed he slowly, carefully slid his slingshot into his back pants pocket before walking to his seat in the chorus. But he didn’t quite reach his place.


Jordan! Bring your slingshot over here. You’ll get it back when I see you can behave yourself.”

With a groan, Jordan
returned to the doorway. Grandma took both slingshots and put them in her purse. Then she and Agnes sat in the back of the room.

Sophie couldn
’t believe her eyes. Grandma Longton
and
Mrs. VanMeter were staying? She began the rehearsal, thankful for the extra sets of eyes and ears. Even if they only stayed for part of the rehearsal, she could get something done. The kids sang, adding the motions Sophie had taught them at the previous rehearsal. But when they got to the speaking parts, things fell apart. The narrator forgot to bring her script and couldn’t remember what she was going to say. Sophie tried coaching her, but a scream from the front row stopped everything.


Jordan poked me!” a little redhead cried.

The towhead turned wide, innocent eyes toward Sophie.
“I didn’t do nothin’.”


Yes, you did. You poked me.”


I saw it. He did poke her,” added an older girl from behind them.


Nu-uh. I didn’t do it.”


You’re the only one on that side of me. It must’a been you,” the redhead insisted.


Nope. It was my finger.”

Before she could say or do anything, Jordan was lifted off his seat and dragged away.

“Jordan Michael Longton, I’m ashamed of you,” Martha Longton exclaimed as she ushered her grandson toward the door. “Poking girls and then lying about it. Everyone could see you were doing it. You don’t deserve to be here with the rest of the children.”


But it wasn’t me, it was my finger!” Jordan’s voice had a little less confidence behind it than it had earlier.


Don’t give me that nonsense. Your father used the same excuse when he was your age. Did he teach you that?” Martha’s scolding continued as she took her grandson out into the hallway and shut the door.

Sophie breathed a sigh of relief. Bringing Martha had been a great idea.
Thanks, Mrs. VanMeter
.
She wondered about Jordan’s brother. But a glance at him told her he wouldn’t be a problem. At least not anytime soon. Josh sat quietly in his spot, staring straight ahead. Apparently he wanted to avoid his brother’s fate.

She wondered what it would take to get Martha Longton to attend all the rehearsals.

 

~
~~~

 

Mitch leaned over
his computer keyboard and checked the copy on his advertisement for the local paper. Satisfied with his wording, he clicked to submit it. After having coffee with Sophie the previous week, he’d done some research on mini-sessions and had decided to give it a try. His first ad had appeared in Monday’s paper, and he’d already fielded at least half dozen calls about it. Four had resulted in bookings, enough to make it worth running a second ad. He could devote two evenings a week to doing mini-sessions from now through November and make a healthy profit. But he needed to stay away from Wednesday evenings. There was no way he’d chance showing up late to pick up Angie again. He double-checked his phone to make sure his reminder alarm was set. If his mother-in-law wanted to accuse him of being an unfit parent, he had no intention of giving her any ammunition.

It had taken almost three
months, but he was finally starting to feel comfortable in Zutphen. When he took Angie to the church, the people there had greeted him with welcoming smiles, especially those who’d had contact with his daughter. And it seemed each time he went into Zylstra’s, someone would recognize and greet him. Coming to rural west Michigan, his thought had been to escape the pain of his previous life. But now it seemed he’d found a home. A safe haven for him and his daughter.

The thought made him smile. He
’d never been one for homespun sentiments, but maybe it was time for him to embrace them.

 

BOOK: Christmas Wishes
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