Home For the Holidays by Lisa Plumley

Author:Lisa Plumley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2008-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Stepping over the snowy concrete steps into the Kismet Elks Club was like stepping back in time. Housed in a clapboard building a few blocks from the riverfront, the place still smelled like cigars (now outlawed indoors by a civic code), pancake breakfasts (with local maple syrup), and men wearing pants pulled up to their armpits (eau de Old Spice). There was even an I LIKE IKE campaign pin on the chalkboard near the door.

Also written on the chalkboard were an array of Christmas parade-related assignments. In the center of the room amid the volunteers were bits and pieces of two floats being repaired, along with the flotsam and jetsam of costumes, giant balloons, and tinsel. A heap of old lights lay abandoned in the corner (a sight that would have broken Reno’s heart). Plates of Christmas cookies stood on a table near two popular coffee urns.

Regulars milled around, busily working to prepare for the Christmas parade and the unveiling of the town Christmas tree.

A man and a woman presided over the whole affair—working, it appeared, from two distinctly separate bases of operation. The woman, a fiftyish brunette wearing a pantsuit and a smile, manned a table full of paperwork, duct tape, and electrical cords. The man, about the same age but dressed in sweatpants, a Detroit Lions jersey, and a weight lifter’s belt, supervised the float rebuilding with a coffee-stained clipboard in hand.

They spotted Rachel and her mother simultaneously. Both leaders abandoned what they were doing and veered toward them.

The woman arrived first. “Christine, hi! It’s so good to see you. We can really use a talent like yours on the committee for the town Christmas tree. Are you still scrapbooking?”

Rachel’s mother nodded, immediately launching into genial chitchat with her old friend. Before Rachel could get much further than reading the name JUDY WRIGHT on the cheerful woman’s handwritten name tag, the male leader reached her.

“Hello!” he boomed, enveloping her hand in a fast and certain handshake that left her wobbly. “Tom Wright here. You must be wanting to volunteer. Excellent! What’s your name, hon?”

Startled by his take-charge demeanor, Rachel didn’t reply at first. He seemed familiar somehow, and charming in a rough kind of way, but she couldn’t quite place him. Big smile, green eyes, salt-and-pepper hair, firm grip on his clipboard…

“Don’t pester her, Tom.” Judy Wright rolled her eyes. “That’s Rachel Porter. Don’t you remember her? The Porters only lived down the street from us for thirty years.”

“I know, Judy. I’m not blind.” He straightened his weight belt self-consciously. “I can see a pretty girl just fine.”

“Humph. I’ll just bet you can.”

“Some people know how to appreciate a good thing when it’s standing right in front of them.” He puffed out his chest.

“Well, some other people know how to be thoughtful. Like me.” With a sniff and a lift of her chin, Judy took Rachel and her mother by the elbows. “Come on, ladies. I’ll bet you’re starving! We’ve got cookies and coffee right over here.”

While

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