Under the Christmas Star Read online

  “Praying, huh?” Normally, comments like that just begged for a sassy retort, but a warm feeling blossoming in Joy’s chest caught her off guard. Her conversation with Kyle replayed in her head, as it had a hundred times since yesterday. Instead of whatever snide remark she’d been about to spew, she uttered softly, “Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

  Victoria stopped what she was doing and stared at her. “Are you for real?”

  “Hm?”

  “Usually when I mention prayer, you call me ‘Billy Graham’ or ‘Mother Teresa.’ Next thing I know, you’ll be saying you want to go to church with me.”

  Following Victoria into the next aisle, Joy considered. Victoria had invited her to at least one service, Bible study, craft day, or women’s conference at her church every week since her own conversion, and Joy had always given her a polite reminder that church just wasn’t her thing. But now…

  She drew in a deep breath before blurting out, “Actually, I was thinking it might be good for the kids if we started going on Sundays.”

  Victoria almost dropped a clear glass vase filled with silver and gold Christmas balls. “Are you being serious? Sometimes I can’t tell.”

  “It’s just that…” Joy fumbled for an explanation that didn’t include the hot guy—whom she wasn’t at all interested in—who had gotten her thinking about the power of prayer. “Since Mike ripped all of our Christmas traditions to shreds, it would be good for us to start fresh. Maybe find some new meaning in the season.”

  Victoria studied her for a moment, then her mouth moved but no sound came out. It was rare for her to be at a loss for words. Then her eyes started to glisten.

  Joy held up a hand to stop her from gushing all over her in the middle of this busy store. “Please don’t make a big deal out of it, okay? I just think it might help to distract us from the bad memories.”

  Victoria nodded. “You’re right.”

  Joy turned her attention to the bounty of Christmas décor and the lovely rendition of “We Three Kings” playing softly in the background. An unexpected wave of holiday cheer lifted her spirits. “So, centerpieces.”

  “Yes.” Victoria sniffled a little, then started looking around again. “They have to be tasteful. I want it to look like a wedding, not an office Christmas party.”

  Just then, a gust of wind drew their attention to the door from outside, which stood wide open. Just inside the door, a short, roundish woman in a bright yellow rain poncho wrestled with an inside-out umbrella that refused to come in after her.

  The large carpet bag she had slung over her shoulder made her look like Mary Poppins, but not on a good day.

  Several heads swiveled, out of either interest or irritation, and one of the clerks manning the counter started toward the woman, presumably to give her a hand. Just as she arrived to help, the yellow-poncho woman succeeded in freeing the umbrella and stumbled backward, right into a display rack of handmade candy canes.

  Several shoppers repositioned themselves for a better view as she attempted to catch herself, swinging the mangled umbrella. The clerk let out a little shriek and ducked just in time to avoid getting a metal rib jabbed in her eye.

  The light instrumental version of “Silent Night” playing over the store’s speakers provided an ironic contrast as the rack hit the floor with a loud clunk and the pitiful crackle of breaking candy.

  The woman turned, regarded the wreckage of her unfortunate entrance, then looked up and scanned the store. Seeming oblivious to the attention she’d garnered, she spotted Victoria and waved with the arm that wasn’t still clutching the lethal hunk of metal and acrylic-coated nylon.

  Joy took a step closer to Victoria and muttered, “Wendy’s here.”

  As Wendy said her mea culpa to the clerk—who righted herself and made a series of gestures that seemed to indicate that this kind of thing happened all the time—the other shoppers spoke softly to each other and returned to what they’d been doing.

  Victoria took in a long breath and went over to greet her wedding planner.

  Smiling courteously, the clerk held out a hand to relieve Wendy of her umbrella-of-mass-destruction. Quickly switching gears, Wendy gave Victoria an air kiss and shooed her back toward the table where Joy had safely remained.

  “I am so sorry I’m late.” Wendy gave Joy a look of apology along with a finger wave. “I caught the wrong bus.”

  “It’s fine, Wendy,” Victoria said gently.

  “Well, I’m here now. Let’s get started.” Giving a look that swiftly eliminated every centerpiece component in their immediate vicinity, Wendy breezed toward the back of the store.

  Joy caught Victoria by the arm before she could follow. “Your wedding planner takes the bus?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Victoria spat out impatiently. “Lots of people do.”

  She did a quickstep to catch up with Wendy, leaving Joy shaking her head as the distinctive scent of peppermint wafted through the shop, a sad reminder of Wendy’s dramatic arrival.

  Taking the last sweet sip from her coffee cup, Joy looked around, her enthusiasm for helping to find the perfect Christmassy-but-not-too-Christmassy centerpiece waning. In an attempt to recapture her brief moment of merriment, she moved closer to the large tree in the center of the store.

  For years, she had made a practice of buying one new ornament every December. Each year as Mike’s income grew, so did their tree and Joy’s ability to fill the house with Christmas cheer.

  But ever since Mike’s abrupt departure, Joy had been on a budget with no room for non-essentials. Now, as she perused this collection of handcrafted ornaments and let herself get swept up in the emotional melody of “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” she smiled. Maybe there could be more to this holiday season than just “getting through it” after all.

  Circling the tree, she noticed that each section had a different theme. Several branches had been dedicated to cooking-related ornaments, and others to travel. She stopped at the area filled with all kinds of animals, from jungle to farm to pets. A whimsical mouse wearing a Santa hat made her smile, as did a cow with a wreath around its neck. If she weren’t on such a tight budget, she might be tempted to do a little shopping for the kids.

  Suddenly, she stopped. She reached up and unhooked a tiny dog crafted out of felted wool and studied it in disbelief, then ran a finger across that distinctive ridge of fur in the center of his back. What were the odds of her finding a likeness of a burnished-red Rhodesian Ridgeback with a brown nose the very day after meeting Henry?

  She smiled. Kyle would love this.

  She flipped over the price tag and flinched. That was definitely more than she could justify paying, especially for someone she barely knew. Correction…someone she didn’t know at all. Still, the irony of it made it seem like a sign of some sort.

  Don’t be silly, Joy. It was just a coincidence, that was all. There were lots of breeds represented in this display. But as she put the Henry lookalike back on its branch, she saw the standard popular breeds—German Shephard, collie, beagle. None of the other ornaments were of unique or unusual breeds.

  “Joy, look what we found!”

  Blinking, Joy forced herself out of her ridiculous fantasy world and back to the reality of why she was there. As she turned to face her sister, she shook off all crazy thoughts of signs and dogs and handsome dog owners.

  Joy scanned the expanse of garlands, lights, and candles that they’d spread out on every available surface of Victoria’s cozy bungalow living room. Her sister had spent the last half hour walking her through the plan for decorating the wedding and reception spaces with the meticulousness of a drill sergeant.

  “We’re not going to have a lot of time in the actual space, so we need to have things as organized as possible.”

  “Don’t worry.” Joy tore off a label she’d just printed and stuck it to one of several large bins they’d bought for transporting all of this to the venue on the wedding-day morning. “We’ve got it under cont
rol.”

  “I really appreciate your help.” Victoria skimmed through the already-labeled bins then pulled one from the stack. “I have a dress fitting today, and I promised Brian I’d go to the airport with him to meet his parents. Plus, I need to finish making the gifts I’m giving to you and the other girls.” Her normally smooth brow crinkled with apprehension. “I’m starting to feel crunched for time.”

  “Don’t stress. We’ll get it all done.”

  “I know. But I realized this morning that once people start arriving from out of town, that’s going to eat into my time. I’m really going to need your help.”

  “Well, I’ll do as much as I can this week. Then I’m all yours in the evenings for the entire week before the wedding.” She made a face. “As long as you don’t mind if I bring the kids along.”

  Victoria gave her a smile that looked slightly forced. “In that case, we should get the centerpieces done today. Not that I don’t trust the kiddos, but these are really fragile.” She held up one of the treasures she had discovered at Made to Inspire that afternoon. “Aren’t they just perfect?”

  “They’re really pretty, Vic.” Joy peeked into one of the boxes that held twelve blown-glass mini churches. No two were exactly the same, but they each represented an old-fashioned steepled church with some sort of Christmas décor on it, like a wreath on the front door, or garland adorning the eaves. “What are you planning to do with them?”

  “See those mason jars?” Victoria crossed to her dining table, which could currently pass as the set for The Martha Stewart Show. “We’re putting cotton in the bottom, then one of the little churches and some of these tiny pine trees. Then we add the little strand of LED lights that will look like stars. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “I love it. It’s unique, that’s for sure.” Joy pulled up one of the dining chairs and sat, ready to get to work.

  “Then after the wedding, I want to give them to people to use as Christmas decorations.” She placed the tiny church back in its cardboard compartment. “Since we’re getting married at the yacht club, I love the idea of bringing the church into the décor. It’s meaningful.”

  “That store has some really beautiful things.” Joy took the lid off one of the jars, then grabbed a hunk of cotton stuffing. “I saw this dog ornament—”

  “If you’re thinking you can get Ty and Charlie a dog ornament instead of the real thing, I don’t think they’ll be fooled that easily.” Victoria plugged in a glue gun, then sat down at the head of the table.

  “No, I wasn’t thinking about getting it. It was just funny because we have a client who owns one of these dogs in the same color and he and I were just talking about how unique he is. Then to see this ornament the very next day—”

  “Hang on. Did you say ‘he’?”

  Joy let out a defensive huff. “I did, but—”

  “Aaaah…” Victoria practically dropped her glue gun and leaned her elbows on the table. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” Joy should have known better than to mention this to her formerly-man-obsessed sister. She added snow to a second jar. “It’s just that this client brought his dog in yesterday for emergency surgery. We had a conversation about how unusual it is to find a dog his breed and color. Then today I saw the ornament that looked exactly like him. I thought it was a funny coincidence. That’s all.”

  “There are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. And besides…” Victoria raised an eyebrow. “…you’re blushing.”

  “I’m blushing because you’re giving me a bad time.”

  “So now you want to buy this guy a present.” Carefully, she removed the first church from the box. “That’s so sweet.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to buy it for him. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be sweet. It would just be a gesture.”

  “So tell me about him.” Victoria swirled a little glue on the bottom of the church, then planted it in one of the jars Joy had prepped.

  “His name”—Joy flicked her a sideways glance—“is Henry. He’s a Rhodesian Ridgeback with red fur and a—”

  “Not the dog, you goof. I want to hear about his owner. What’s his name?”

  “Kyle.” She picked up a tiny pine tree. “His name is Kyle.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Is he handsome? Single? What does he do?”

  “Oh my goodness. Vic, he’s a client, not a contestant on The Dating Game.”

  “Aha.” Victoria aimed the glue gun at her. “So you don’t deny that he’s handsome and single. I think you like him.”

  “Well, I don’t dislike him. But that’s not what this is about.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “It’s about the dog. And the coincidence.”

  “Well, I think it’s a good idea.”

  “What is?”

  “Giving him the ornament. What guy wouldn’t love receiving a thoughtful gift like that from a hot babe like you?”

  Joy sunk into her shoulders, recalling how “hot” she’d looked in her teal scrub jacket that she wore to protect herself from getting coated in fur, her hair swept up in a careless loose bun, and her face essentially free of makeup except for a swipe of mascara. “Even if I was considering getting it for him, which I’m not.” She accented the word with a firm glare. “I wouldn’t because it would be totally misleading.”

  Focusing on her gluing, Victoria made a show of sounding coy. “It wouldn’t be misleading if you’re actually interested.”

  “I’m not.”

  Victoria gave her the kind of yeah, right look that only a sister can get away with.

  “I’m not.” She said even more firmly. “Why don’t you believe me?”

  “Because this is the first conversation you and I have had about a handsome single guy since I became happily unavailable.”

  “Well, newsflash, the world is full of handsome single guys. That doesn’t change the fact that I’ve sworn off dating until the kids are out of the house.”

  “Sworn off dating but not sworn off flirting, by the sound of it.”

  “Victoria.”

  “I’m serious. If you, a perfectly lovely, one hundred percent available woman goes out of her way to buy a personal gift for this guy, he’s going to see it as a sign of interest.”

  “Maybe that would be true of all the men you dated in the past, but Kyle seems more down-to-earth than that.”

  “Does he, now?” Victoria shot her a gotcha look. “Sounds like you know him pretty well.”

  “We’ve only had one conversation. But I could tell from that what kind of person he is.” Joy frowned. “Not that I’m any kind of expert at reading men. I did marry Mike, after all.”

  Victoria gave her a look that was both pitying and condemning. “No comment.”

  “I know, you’ve never been a fan.” Joy let out a tsking sound. “When I think about all the times I made excuses for him. I’d see little clues that he was unfaithful and instead of trusting my gut, I’d make up some excuse for him. Or when I would work up the nerve to confront him and he’d come up with some explanation, a little too quickly, I’d just believe him. Even when I knew those explanations didn’t make any sense. I’ve been so blind.”

  “You’ve been hopeful.” Victoria’s look softened as she continued her gluing. “You wanted to believe the best about him.”

  “Yeah. But ignoring the truth doesn’t make it any less true.” Joy’s chest squeezed a little at her admission. “He’s a liar and a cheater.”

  “It’s what Dad used to do too, you know.” Victoria peered at her without lifting her head.

  “That was different.”

  “How was it different? You used to always take his side too.”

  “You’re right.” The realization that she had been less than fair in her assessment of her parents’ divorce hit extra hard now that she’d been through one of her own. “No wonder Mom used to get so frustrated with me.”
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  “Mom would have stayed with him too if he hadn’t walked out on us.”

  “I know. Just like I would have stayed with Mike. Happily ignoring what I didn’t know for sure.”

  “Except that you did know for sure, and you weren’t happy. You were miserable. In fact, as hard as this last year has been for you, I haven’t seen you this content in a really long time.”

  “You call this content? I’m a mess.”

  “But you’re living authentically. Facing your denial about Mike was a very healthy move.”

  “Right. I should have listened to you sooner. You are the expert.”

  “I know how men think, and when it comes to this guy, Kyle, I think you should…”

  Looking up to see why Victoria had left her unsolicited advice hanging there unfinished, Joy saw her frowning into the second box of tiny churches. “Is something wrong?”

  Victoria spoke carefully. “I’m sure I told Wendy we needed twenty of the churches. She knows we’re having twenty tables at the reception.”

  “I heard you tell her twenty. Why?” She leaned over to get a look into the box. “How many do we have?”

  “Twelve in this box and…” She did a quick count. “Six in this one. We’re two short.” Victoria looked like she might cry. “I’ll have to go back there, but what if they don’t have enough?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll call the store.” Joy snagged her phone out of her purse and quickly looked up the number. “I heard the clerk say that the artist had sent twenty-five and they had only sold two before today. That means they should have five still there.”

  “But what if they don’t? I want all my centerpieces to match.”

  “They don’t answer.” Joy ended the call. “Not even a voicemail.”

  “I’ll have to go back.” Standing, Victoria looked at the clock on her sideboard. “But I can’t be late for my fitting. And—”