The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (26 page)

“
Yes. I believe one was a
request to watch her grandchildren so their mother could do the
grocery shopping.”

“
Oh.” Jonathan’s ears
turned pink, and he stared at his plate.

“
I know she’d planned to
take her car to the shop right after lunch, because she’d asked me
for a ride back to her house. But when that phone call came, she
decided to change her plans. And another call came from someone who
needed her to fill in for her somewhere — I think it was a
mother-daughter banquet.”

“
That was Nancy,” Paul
admitted. “She had a conflict.”

“
And before we’d finished
lunch, she got a call from someone who needed her to pick up a sick
child from school because neither parent could get there. By the
time the lunch meeting was over, we all agreed that Helen needed to
clone herself to be able to keep up with all the requests for help
she got — in addition to the things she does.”

“
What else does she
do?”

“
I haven’t known her that
long, but it seems that the Christmas program is something she
enjoys doing. From what I hear, she does a great job at it, but she
wants to give it up because she doesn’t feel she has time for it
anymore. And she enjoys meeting with her knitting group at church.
Outside of church, I’d say from the comments from her friends that
she enjoys baking. My sister-in-law told me Helen’s
banket
is famous. I hear
she’s always bringing knitted gifts or sweets to people she visits.
She enjoys doing things for her family, too. But if she’s not able
to take care of her personal details, maybe it’s because she has
too much on her plate.”

Mike could see his words
bothered the boys.
Good
. They should be helping their mother out, not complaining
about the things she didn’t get done. But why wouldn’t she stand up
to them? She seemed like an intelligent woman. Did she let everyone
treat her this way?

He rose and picked up his
plate. “It was very nice to meet both of you. Helen speaks very
highly of her children. She’s quite proud of your accomplishments.
And she is very, very happy that you are nearby so that she can see
her grandchildren often. Have a nice evening.” He left before he
could say anything more. Something like,
“Why don’t you get off your mother’s back?”

He went down the hall toward the adult
catechism classes, but instead of going in, he kept going out to
the parking lot. His interaction with Helen’s sons bothered him.
Had he overstepped his bounds? He thought back to what he’d
said.

At least they were concerned enough about
their mother that they discussed her. He supposed that was better
than adult children who completely ignored their parents.

Like me.

He loved his mom, but he hadn’t been here in
years. He called her on her birthday and Christmas and sent flowers
on her birthday but hadn’t made it to this tiny town until his
brother had urged him to come. Maybe if he’d made more of an effort
he could have had a clue as to what had made her so
anti-social.

Paul and Jonathan’s attitude toward their
mother rankled, but he had no business criticizing them. So why did
he feel the urge to protect her? When he’d seen her along the side
of the road, she’d looked so lost and afraid. He’d wanted to hold
her until the tears went away, and the strength of that feeling had
puzzled and frightened him. Could romantic feelings develop so
quickly? Once he’d thought he’d been in love. A long, long time
ago. He’d been an earnest college boy, and she’d been in a class
with him. He thought they’d been in love, but when he’d professed
his feelings to her, she’d been horrified. She’d thought they were
just good friends, and she didn’t want a permanent relationship.
Never had wanted one. She was going to work on her career and
didn’t want any bothersome man holding her back.

He’d stepped away, hurt, but determined not
to beg. A few years ago he’d heard she had not only married but was
a stay-at-home mom. She’d never gone after that career she’d
wanted. What had happened? How was it that he hadn’t been enough
for her?

Would he ever measure up as a man or as a
son?

On the day
of the garage sale, Helen awoke early, excited and
nervous. A crisp breeze put a slight chill in the air, but the sun
shone. She’d need a sweater under her light jacket.

The previous day, she and her
daughters-in-law had spent several hours setting the garage up,
sorting clothing by sizes, and arranging the household goods in
another part of the garage. Each item had been labeled with the
seller and the price. While they worked, neighbors came to look. A
few asked if they could bring some of their things over to sell.
Norine Price had offered to bring coffee and food in exchange for
her things in the sale. “I just don’t get the traffic on my
street,” she’d whined. Nancy and Bonnie accepted everyone’s items
and made room on the tables borrowed from the school. A clothing
rack, borrowed from Brides and More, was set up along the back wall
of the garage. After everything was set up, Paul and Nancy’s
children put signs all around the neighborhood advertising the
Multi-Family Sale at the DeGroot home.

Everyone agreed that anything left over from
the sale would be taken to charity, so even if nothing sold, she’d
have a lot more room in her house, less clutter.

And then maybe she could think about moving.
Maybe.

She punched the remote to open the garage
door. Her jaw went slack when she saw the crowd already gathered to
shop. A dozen women entered before the door had reached the top.
Where on earth were her helpers? She stood, frozen, until Nancy
arrived.

“
Hi, Mom. Sorry I’m late.
Where’s the money box?”

“
Money box? Oh, right. It’s
on the kitchen table.”

“
I’ll get it. Has Norine
come with the coffee yet? I need a mug — a big one.”

“
How much do you want for
this ceramic angel?” Elsie Potter, Helen’s neighbor, held the
figurine up. Her strident voice carried over the buzz of shoppers
crowded in the garage.

The angel had been collecting dust in her
corner hutch, and Helen didn’t even remember where it came from.
Still, she wasn’t going to let it go for nothing. She walked over
to examine the angel. Elsie had a habit of squeezing every dime
until it howled in pain. She gave herself a mental shake to clear
her head and scowled at her old friend.

“
How much do you think it’s
worth?”

“
Hmm. The paint is a little
chipped over here. How about a dime?”

Helen frowned and stared until the woman
squirmed. “Okay, maybe a quarter.”

Helen shook her head. “I don’t think
so.”

“
Fifty cents,
then.”

Helen crossed her arms and glared. “Did you
see the name printed on the bottom?”

Elsie tipped the figurine over. “I don’t
recognize this. Is it supposed to be something famous?”

“
You’ve never heard of this
store? It’s in the mall. Very exclusive.”

“
Oh, all right.
Seventy-five cents. That’s my final offer.”

“
Make it a dollar and we
have a deal.”

The elderly woman pouted, but she pulled a
twenty dollar bill out of her wallet. “Do you have change?”

The morning had been quite busy. Oddly,
Helen hadn’t experienced any of the sadness she’d expected at
letting go of her things. Instead, she’d felt energized and
empowered. Her closets and drawers looked neater now that they
weren’t stuffed with things she never wore. When she’d finished
with the bedroom she’d found furniture and other things she didn’t
need or want any more. End tables, lamps, pictures, an extra
artificial Christmas tree — it was amazing how much she’d
accumulated. It had been difficult boxing up Joe’s books on
horticulture and some of his mysteries, but she’d never read them.
Best for them to go to someone who wanted them.

“
It’s not really about
making money,” Bonnie told her. “It’s about clearing out our stuff
so we have room to breathe. And it’s kind of a social thing, too,
because everyone comes over to check out your things, and maybe go
home with one or two. In the meantime, hopefully we’ll have enough
extra cash for a little treat.”

The way things were going today, they’d all
be able to afford a nice treat. Neighbors had been coming and going
all day long. Some came just to browse, but many left with items.
Nancy kept a detailed list of everything that sold and who the
money went to. They’d color-coded the price tags to make the job
easier. Helen’s items were labeled with a yellow sticker, Nancy’s
with green, and Bonnie’s with red.

Sophie Gardner arrived. “Good morning,
Helen,” she called.

“
Good morning, Sophie. Do
you have the weekend off?”

“
I do. We start rehearsing
for the new show next week.”

A tiny blonde peeked out from behind Sophie.
“Hi, Mrs. DeGroot.”

“
Well, hello there. Are you
Sophie’s helper today?” Helen cast a smile at Angie Carson, who
remained close to Sophie’s side. Angie’s father Mitch and Sophie
had been dating for about a year, and Helen was among those who
guessed they would soon make an announcement.

“
Angie and I are spending
the day together,” Sophie answered. “Her father is busy with
Christmas photos. He’s running a Christmas card
special.”

“
I’m glad he’s keeping
busy. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a photographer in
town.”

“
We thought we’d see if you
had anything I could use for props in the show we’re doing next
month.”

“
I hope so. What are you
looking for?”

Sophie pulled a notebook out of her purse
and flipped to the page she needed. “I need a rocking chair, a
lamp, and a couple of thick books.”

“
I think I can help you
with all three.”

Ten minutes later, Sophie had the items she
needed. “It’s a good thing I brought Mitch’s SUV with me instead of
my little car,” she said as she paid for them.

“
Let me help you take them
out to the car,” Helen offered.

“
No, let me help.” Mike
appeared suddenly and picked up the rocker. He helped load
everything into the SUV.

“
Looks like you have a
great crowd,” Mike observed when he came back into the garage. “You
picked a great day to have your sale.”

Helen fought to avoid staring with puppy dog
eyes. She felt like a teenager every time she looked at him.
Hopefully she didn’t act like one.

“
Yes, it’s been busy all
day. I hope we’re not making too much noise for you. I know you
have to get your writing done.”

“
Not at all. I thought I’d
go for a walk and saw all the people shopping in here. I just
stopped to see if you need any help.”

“
I don’t think
so—”

“
Mr. Sikkema? Could I ask
you to help me carry this bed and end table to Mrs. Crawley’s van?”
Bonnie waved him over. Another of Helen’s neighbors beamed,
apparently the proud new owner of the furniture from Helen’s guest
room. Helen wanted to hug the woman — now she’d be able to have a
nice sewing room. Until she had to move, that is. Her excitement
suddenly deflated.

“
Of course.” Mike obliged,
and Helen hoped her gaze at the man’s backside wasn’t noticed. He’d
certainly kept himself fit. How did he do that if he worked in an
office?

Nancy stared at her, her lips curved in a
knowing smirk. She gave an enthusiastic thumbs up before helping
the next customer. Helen’s face burned. Good grief, she must look
like an adolescent. Pining away after a man — a younger man, no
less.

She took a deep breath then busied herself
straightening the items remaining on the tables.

~~~~

Mike had come
outside intending to go for a walk, but the sheer
number of people coming to shop in Helen’s garage made him stop and
offer to help. He recognized Bonnie from when he had come to look
at the apartment. The other lady handling the cash box must be the
older son’s wife. She seemed to have that under control.

For the next few hours, he helped people
take things to their cars, held dogs and even babies while their
moms shopped, and chatted with the general public. The people of
Zutphen Community Church had been quite welcoming when he’d first
arrived, and they were equally as friendly in this setting.
Everyone knew everyone else, and conversations sprang up in all
corners of the garage, as well as up and down the driveway and
along the street. Now and then a neighbor would haul in something
they wanted to get rid of, and Nancy would accommodate them by
labeling it with the seller’s name and asking price. By the time
the ladies decided to call it a day, it seemed there was as much as
when they had started, but the full cash box and five pages of
notes told of a successful day. They would begin again the next
morning.

He’d always wondered why people bothered
having these sales. His friends who lived in suburban Chicago would
sometimes hold them. It seemed like a lot of work for the few
dollars they might bring in. But here in Zutphen it was more like a
community event. People didn’t come merely to shop — they came to
socialize. Some possibly came to find out what Helen and her
daughters-in-law were getting rid of or to get a bargain. But most
came with genuine smiles and chatted as they browsed. It was a good
feeling.