Robyn Neeley - Christmas Dinner

“Let me see it.” Brenda took the rock, examining its shape and texture. “You know, I think we could etch maybe a couple of words. You’ve come to the right woman. Your dad has some tools in his office I could use. What would you like it to say? ‘#1’ or maybe ‘Hot Anchor’?” she teased.

“Not quite. Maybe ‘Just Believe.’” She looked at the rock again. “That’s probably too cheesy, huh?”

“I can definitely inscribe whatever you like, but do you think he’d want his lucky stone etched? Once I do it, we can’t take it off.”

“I’m not sure, but he gave it to me, so I guess I can do whatever I want with it. You really think you could do this?”

“Sure can. It shouldn’t take me too long to do it.”

“Awesome!” She hugged Brenda. “And I have the perfect box. Follow me.”

Back in the kitchen, Amanda grabbed her purse off the kitchen island. She reached into it and pulled out the small robin egg blue box that George had given her earlier.

“Oooh. One of your mom’s?”

“No. No, this lovely box was given to me at the hospital today.” Amanda held it up.

“Really? By who?”

“Some nice old man that struck up a conversation with me while I waited for Tate. He left it on the bench and told me I’d know exactly what to put into it.”

“Weird.”

“I know, right?”

“Well, it is pretty.” Brenda took the box from Amanda, opening the lid and inspecting its plush blue fabric inside.

“Isn’t it? It’s strange. George said he put his pills in it, but it doesn’t look like it’s ever been used. Anyway, this is the perfect gift for Tate.”

“If you say so.”

Amanda could tell Brenda wasn’t entirely convinced. “Thanks for helping me. Without you, he would be getting a case of Upstate New York wine.”

Brenda motioned one hand up and one hand down like a scale. “Hmmm . . . case of wine or a rock? I don’t know. Very tough decision indeed.” She chuckled. “I’ll have it ready for you when you get back tonight—” She paused. “And if you change your mind on the inscription, call me by six thirty. I won’t start until I hear from you.”

“Perfect! I’ll give it a little more thought and call you. Thank you! You are the abolute best. Alex doesn’t deserve you.”

She grabbed her jacket and purse from the hallway. “Oh, and can you wake Tate up at seven?” She smiled to herself and walked out the door. Her pseudo boyfriend would not be leaving the house at six but getting the rest he would need to join her in one long late night make out session that would prove once and for all Melanie had nothing on her in the kissing department.

Amanda turned on the Jeep’s windshield wipers, adjusting them to the lowest setting. She watched them move back and forth as they cleared off a dusting of tiny white flakes. Thankfully the snow was light, although judging from her ability to see her breath, the temperature had dropped quite a bit. She didn’t think Tate would mind her borrowing his car again.

The roads could be icy later. It had been years since she’d driven on black ice. She turned out of the driveway and waved to the cars that had pulled over to view her family’s lawn. A steady stream of residents would, no doubt, be paying a visit to her parents’ house throughout the evening. It was nice to be home.

It took her less than five minutes to drive the two miles to the trailer park Kristen Bailey lived in with her two daughters.

“That’s funny. I wonder where Dad is?” She didn’t see her father’s truck anywhere. It was six o’clock on the nose. “Did I miss him?” She parked the Jeep, walked up the rickety steps, and knocked on the trailer’s front porch door.

“Can I help you?” Kristen flung the door wide open. She was wearing a shimmering red sweater and black jeans. Her dark brown hair was pulled off her face. Tiny red and green ornament balls dangled from her earlobes.

“Hi, Kristen. It’s Amanda Turner. I was supposed to meet my dad here at six. Did he already stop by?”

“Amanda! Oh, my goodness. Of course. I didn’t recognize you. Come in, come in. Let’s get out of the cold.” She grabbed Amanda’s arm and ushered her into the trailer. “It’s so nice to see you. You look so different all grown up. So glamorous.”

“Thanks. It’s good to see you, too. Was my father already here?” She scanned the trailer, resting her eyes on the kitchen table in front of her. The table was set for four. No sign of her dad.

“He came here this morning.” Kristen pointed to the tree in the living room. “He delivered our tree with that handsome boyfriend of yours. What was his name again?”

“Tate.” Amanda glanced over at the fully decorated Douglas Fir. That was weird—not only had her dad already been there, so had the volunteers with the ornaments. Maybe they’d just forgotten the cookies. That must be why he asked her to stop by.

“That’s right. Tate. He made quite the impression on my little ones, especially Chloe. Look, she’s even set a place for him next to her.” Kristen motioned to the extra setting at the table.

“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. I’ve interrupted your dinner,” Amanda said. “I should go.” She looked again at the empty plate. “Wait. Did Tate say he’d have dinner with you tonight?”

“Yes. I mean no . . . not really. Chloe invited him. I told her he probably wouldn’t be able to come back, but she insisted that we set a plate for him just in case.” She put her hand up toward her face, covering her mouth slightly. “I think she’s just a little star struck finding out he’s on TV and all.”

Amanda laughed, taking her hands out of her jacket pocket and loosening her scarf. The trailer was warm and smelled of spaghetti sauce and garlic bread. “He’s quite the celebrity, no doubt.” She glanced again at the tree. “Your Christmas tree looks beautiful.”

“That space in there would be empty if it weren’t for your family,” she replied.

A little girl darted into the kitchen. “Mommy, mommy. Is Tate here?” She was wearing a pretty red and green plaid dress. Her hair in a high ponytail with red velvet ribbons falling down each side. Upon seeing Amanda, she hid behind her mother, tugging on her sweater.

“No, no.” Kristen reached behind and gently coaxed her daughter from behind her back. “Tate can’t join us tonight, but this is his girlfriend, Amanda. Amanda is Mr. Turner’s daughter.”

Chloe let go of her mother and looked up at Amanda. “Hi,” she said softly.

Kristen winked. “She did this shy act with your sweetheart earlier, for about two seconds. “Chloe, why don’t you show Amanda the decorations you and Tate made for the tree?”

Chloe let go of her mother and ran into the living room. Amanda followed the little girl and knelt down next to the tree. She watched as Chloe reached out and touched a snowflake hanging at the very bottom. “He made this one for me. I wish he was here,” she said sadly, looking down at the carpet.

Amanda’s heart melted. She was certain that Tate had promised this little girl he’d have dinner with her. She reached over and touched the glittering piece of white construction paper. “What a beautiful snowflake. Tate made this?”

Chloe nodded. He said he’d bring me and my sister extra cookies for Santa Claus. Santa might stop by tonight and bring us gifts if he doesn’t run out of time like he always does.”

Amanda looked up at Kristen. She understood what Chloe meant.

“Chloe, go get your sister. Dinner is almost ready.” Kristen motioned her daughter to the front room. “Things were especially rough last year,” she explained.

Amanda nodded and returned to the kitchen. “May I join you in Tate’s place?” She pointed to the table.

Kristen nodded with excitement. “Absolutely! We’d love for you to stay for dinner. Do you like spaghetti?”

“I love it! Plus, a night where I don’t have to watch my carbs will do me some good.” She took off her coat, placed it behind her chair, and sat down. Chloe and Danielle dashed into the kitchen, taking their seats across from her.

“Miss Amanda, is joining us.” Kristen set a plate full of garlic bread on the table.

“Girls, I know I’m not Tate, but he sent me here to have dinner with you both and your mother. Would that be okay?”

Chloe stared at Amanda with big eyes. “Do you wanna say grace?”

“I would love to.” She turned to Kristen. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Of course.” She set a huge plate of spaghetti in front of Amanda. “It’s not every day that we dine with a celebrity.”

Amanda laughed. “I’m hardly famous. Oh, you know what I forgot? Dad—I mean Tate, asked me to bring some extra cookies for Santa. I’ll just go get them out of the car so they don’t get hard in the cold. I’ll be right back.”

“Yay!” Chloe screamed out loud from her chair. “I told you he would bring more cookies for Santa, Mommy.”

Amanda headed out the door with her jacket. She wrapped her arms around her body to shield her from the cold.

Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. Why didn’t Tate tell her this was where he was going tonight? He certainly had made an impression on those little girls inside, especially Chloe. Something must have happened this morning that touched his heart.

She had an idea. Pulling out her phone from her pocket, she dialed her parents’ number.

“Brenda, hi! Is Tate still asleep?”

“I think so. He hasn’t been down.”

“Good. Just let him sleep. Listen, I know the message I’d like inscribed on the rock. ‘Christmas dinner.’”

“Christmas dinner?”

“Correct.”

“Can I spell it with an ‘X’?”

“That’s fine.”

“No problem then. I’ll start working on it right now.”

“Thanks, Brenda! I’ll be home soon.”

She clicked her phone off and walked back to the trailer. She thought about calling her father, but hesitated. She suspected he’d known what he was doing by sending her here, and she was exactly where she was supposed to be this evening.

* * *

Tate stared out the guest room window at the lights on the lawn and bit into a cookie. He was a little groggy from his nap, and his ankle still hurt. He watched the strangers below who had gathered to see the Turners’ holiday display.

Where was Amanda? He moved from the window and lay back down on the bed. She’d asked him if she was a better kisser than Melanie. He thought back to that freezing night twenty years ago and his first kiss . . .

* * *

Tate brushed his cold hand over his face. It was instantly wet, as a fresh coating of tears stained his cheeks. He didn’t understand why his mother was making him leave town in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop crying.

He jammed his hands into his coat pocket and leaned up against the old station wagon, watching his mother pump gas into it from the other side. Where were they going? His mother was in a conversation with a man behind her who was also pumping gas for his truck. He locked eyes with a young girl who was sitting inside. She was staring at him.

He looked away. The last three months had been one long nightmare. However, it didn’t start out that way. Last spring had been one of the best of his young life—making the junior varsity baseball team at his new school and getting straight B’s, an academic first, making his parents proud. Then he’d spent last summer at camp where he learned to water ski and fish on the Finger Lakes. His mom promised she’d send him to camp again next year. He was going to hold her to that promise.

Fall had not been kind to his family. In late September, his dad suddenly dropped to the ground at work and was rushed to the emergency room where he passed away of a heart attack shortly after being admitted. He was only thirty-nine. Now Tate and his mom were all alone, still new in the area, and without family for support.

“Tate. Tate, dear . . .” his mom called out, snapping him out of his trance. “Here.” She walked over and handed him a ten-dollar bill. “Why don’t you go get us a couple of sodas and some snacks for the trip?”

He took the money. “Whatever.” He was angry with his mother for making him leave the only place he’d ever considered home. She never let him drink soda. It was an attempt to make things right, but he wasn’t ready to call a truce. He’d liked living here. He’d made good grades and had friends. Didn’t that account for anything?

As he walked into the adjoining convenience store, he could hear the faint sound of Christmas music. He headed to the back refrigerator and selected two cans of Coke. From out of nowhere, the girl from the truck appeared. She had straight blond hair tied back in a ponytail and big green eyes.