Call Me Mrs Miracle

The woman standing behind him frowned impatiently at Holly. “If I’m going to get to work on time, he does.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Not waiting for her to agree, the stranger stepped forward and paid for both her latte and his coffee.

“Thank you,” she said in a low, strangled voice.

“I’ll consider it my good deed for the day.”

“I’ll pay for your coffee the next time I see you.”

He grinned. “You’ve got a deal.” He moved down to the end of the counter, where she went to wait for her latte. “I’m Jake Finley.”

“Holly Larson.” She extended her hand.

“Holly,” he repeated.

“People assume I was born around Christmas but I wasn’t. Actually, I was born in June and named after my mother’s favorite aunt,” she said. She didn’t know why she’d blurted out such ridiculous information. Perhaps because she still felt embarrassed and was trying to disguise her chagrin with conversation. “I do love Christmas, though, don’t you?”

“Not particularly.” Frowning, he glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Oh, sure. Thank you again.” He’d been thoughtful and generous.

“See you soon,” Jake said as he turned toward the door.

“I owe you,” she said. “I won’t forget.”

He smiled at her. “I hope I’ll run into you again.”

“That would be great.” She meant it, and next time she’d make sure she had enough cash to treat him. She felt a glow of pleasure as Jake left Starbucks.

Holly stopped to calculate—it’d been more than three months since her last date. That was pitiful! Three months. Nuns had a more active social life than she did.

Her last relationship had been with Bill Carter. For a while it had seemed promising. As a divorced father, Bill was protective and caring toward his young son. Holly had only met Billy once. Unfortunately, the trip to the Central Park Zoo hadn’t gone well. Billy had been whiny and overtired, and Bill had seemed to want her to deal with the boy. She’d tried but Billy didn’t know her and she didn’t know him, and the entire outing had been strained and uncomfortable. Holly had tried—unsuccessfully—to make the trip as much fun as possible. Shortly thereafter, Bill called to tell her their relationship wasn’t “working” for him. He’d made a point of letting her know he was interested in finding someone more “suitable” for his son because he didn’t feel she’d make a good mother. His words had stung.

Holly hadn’t argued. Really, how could she? Her one experience with Billy had been a disaster. Then, just a month after Bill’s heartless comment, Gabe had entered her life. These days she was more inclined to agree with Bill’s assessment of her parenting skills. She didn’t seem to have what it took to raise a child, which deeply concerned her.

Things were getting easier with Gabe, but progress had been slow, and it didn’t help that her nephew seemed to sense her unease. She had a lot to learn about being an effective and nurturing parent.

Dating Bill had been enjoyable enough, but there’d never been much chemistry between them, so not seeing him wasn’t a huge loss. She categorized it as more of a disappointment. A letdown. His parting words, however, had left her with doubts and regrets.

Carrying her latte, Holly walked the three blocks to the office. She actually arrived a minute early. Working as an assistant to a fashion designer sounded glamorous but it wasn’t. She didn’t get to take home designer purses for a fraction of their retail price—except for the knockoff versions she could buy on the street—or acquire fashion-model hand-me-downs.

She was paid a pittance and had become the go-to person for practically everyone on staff, and that added up to at least forty people. Her boss, Lindy Lee, was often unreasonable. Unfortunately, most of the time it was Holly’s job to make sure that whatever Lindy wanted actually happened. Lindy wasn’t much older than Holly, but she was well connected in the fashion world and had quickly risen to the top. Because her work as a designer of upscale women’s sportswear was in high demand, Lindy Lee frequently worked under impossible deadlines. One thing was certain; she had no tolerance for the fact that Holly now had to stick to her official nine-to-five schedule, which meant her job as Lindy Lee’s assistant might be in jeopardy. She’d explained the situation with Gabe, but her boss didn’t care about Holly’s problems at home.

Rushing to her desk, Holly set the latte down, shrugged off her coat and readied herself for the day. She was responsible for decorating the office for Christmas, and so far, there just hadn’t been time. On Saturday she’d bring Gabe into the office and the two of them would get it done. That meant her own apartment would have to wait, but...oh, well.

Despite her boss’s complaints about one thing or another, Holly’s smile stayed in place all morning. A kind deed by a virtual stranger buffered her from four hours of commands, criticism and complaints.

Jack...no, Jake. He’d said his name was Jake, and he was cute, too. Maybe handsome was a more accurate description. Classically handsome, like those 1940s movie stars in the old films she loved. Tall, nicely trimmed dark hair, broad shoulders, expressive eyes and...probably married. She’d been too shocked by his generosity to see whether he had a wedding band. Yeah, he was probably taken. Par for the course, she thought a little glumly. Holly was thirty, but being single at that age wasn’t uncommon among her friends. Her parents seemed more worried about it than she was.

Most of her girlfriends didn’t even think about settling down until after they turned thirty. Holly knew she wanted a husband and eventually a family. What she hadn’t expected was becoming a sole parent to Gabe. This time with her nephew was like a dress rehearsal for being a mother, her friends told her. Unfortunately, there weren’t any lines to memorize and the script changed almost every day.

At lunch she heated her Cup-a-Soup in the microwave and logged on to the internet to check for messages from Mickey. Her brother kept in touch with Gabe every day and sent her a quick note whenever he could. Sure enough, there was an email waiting for her.

From: “Lieutenant Mickey Larson” <larsonmichael@goarmy.com>

To: “Holly Larson”<hollylarson@msm.com>

Sent: December 10

Subject: Gabe’s email

Hi, sis,

Gabe’s last note to me was hilarious. What’s this about you making him put down the toilet seat? He thinks girls should do it themselves. This is what happens when men live together. The seat’s perpetually up.

Has he told you what he wants for Christmas yet? He generally mentions a toy before now, but he’s been suspiciously quiet about it this year. Let me know when he drops his hints.

I wish I could be with you both, but that’s out of the question. Next year for sure.

I know it’s been rough on you having to fit Gabe into your apartment and your life, but I have no idea what I would’ve done without you.

By the way, I heard from Mom and Dad. The dental clinic Dad set up is going well. Who’d have guessed our parents would be doing volunteer work after retirement? They send their love...but now that I think about it, you got the same email as me, didn’t you? They both sound happy but really busy. Mom was concerned about you taking Gabe, but she seems reassured now.

Well, I better get some shut-eye. Not to worry—I reminded Gabe that when he’s staying at a house with a woman living in it, the correct thing to do is put down the toilet seat.

Check in with you later.

Thank you again for everything.

Love,

Mickey

Holly read the message twice, then sent him a note. She’d always been close to her brother and admired him for picking up the pieces of his life after Sally died of a rare blood disease. Gabe hadn’t even been a year old. Holly had a lot more respect for the demands of parenthood—and especially single parenthood—now that Gabe lived with her.

At five o’clock, she was out the door. Lindy Lee threw her an evil look, which Holly pretended not to see. She caught the subway and had to stand, holding tight to one of the poles, for the whole rush-hour ride into Brooklyn.

As she was lurched and jolted on the train, her mind wandered back to Mickey’s email. Gabe hadn’t said anything about Christmas to her, either. And yet he had to know that the holidays were almost upon them; all the decorations in the neighborhood and the ads on TV made it hard to miss. For the first time in his life, Gabe wouldn’t be spending Christmas with his father and grandparents. This year, there’d be just the two of them. Maybe he’d rather not celebrate until his father came home, she thought. That didn’t seem right, though. Holly was determined to make this the best Christmas possible.

Not once had Gabe told her what he wanted. She wondered whether she should ask him, maybe encourage him to write Santa a letter—did he still believe in Santa?—or try to guess what he might like. Her other question was what she could buy on a limited income. A toy? She knew next to nothing about toys, especially the kind that would intrigue an eight-year-old boy. She felt besieged by even more insecurities.

She stepped off the subway, climbed the stairs to the street and hurried to Gabe’s school, which housed the after-hours activity program set up for working parents. At least it wasn’t snowing anymore. Which was a good thing, since she’d forgotten to make Gabe wear his boots that morning.

What happened the first day she’d gone to collect Gabe still made her cringe. She’d been thirty-two minutes late. The financial penalty was steep and cut into her carefully planned budget, but that didn’t bother her nearly as much as the look on Gabe’s face.

He must have assumed she’d abandoned him. His haunted expression brought her to the edge of tears every time she thought about it. That was the same night she’d prepared her favorite dinner for him—another disaster. Now she knew better and kept an unending supply of hot dogs—God help them both—plus boxes of macaroni and cheese. He’d deign to eat carrot sticks and bananas, but those were his only concessions, no matter how much she talked about balanced nutrition. He found it hilarious to claim that the relish he slathered on his hot dogs was a “vegetable.”