in town, which gives us a certain responsibility,” Maddie continued. “We need to be community leaders, so to speak.”
Jeanette nodded.
“Which means one of us needs to be involved in town activities and events.” She regarded Jeanette earnestly. “We can’t get away with just writing a check or participating. We need to take a leadership position, serve on committees, that kind of thing.”
Jeanette’s eyes widened as understanding finally dawned. “Oh, no,” she said, the knot tightening. “You’re not about to suggest what I think you are, are you?”
Maddie regarded her innocently. “I have no idea. What are you thinking?”
“Christmas,” Jeanette said, barely able to utter the word without a shudder.
Like all holidays, Christmas in Serenity was a very big deal—decorations to rival anything ever seen in a staging of The Nutcracker, the arrival of Santa, musical performances by local choirs, candy canes and small token gifts for every child in town. The whole town sparkled with lights, and lawn displays ranged from tasteful to garish. The residents of Serenity loved it all. They embraced the season with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a five-year-old.
Not so Jeanette. Christmas in her life was something to be endured, a holiday season to survive, not a time for rejoicing or celebrating or mingling with neighbors. It had been that way for years now. In fact, most years she tried timing her vacation to the holiday season and spending it holed up with DVDs of all the movies she’d missed the previous year.
“No way,” she told Maddie now. “Not a chance. I am not getting involved with the Christmas festival.”
“Come on, Jeanette, please,” Maddie begged. “It’s a few meetings, making sure that lights are strung up, trees are lit, the church choirs invited to sing. You’ve been here long enough to know the drill. And you’re one of the most organized people I know.”
“And the least likely human being on the planet to want to do this,” Jeanette said just as earnestly. “Really, Maddie, you do not want me anywhere near the town’s holiday plans. I give new meaning to bah-humbug. If it were up to me, we’d cancel Christmas.”
Maddie looked genuinely shaken. “Why? How can you not love Christmas?”
“I just don’t, okay?” Jeanette said tightly. “I can’t do this for you, Maddie. I can’t. Anything else, but not this. I’ll watch your kids, take on extra duties around here, whatever you need, but I won’t be involved with the festival.”
“But—”
“I won’t do it, Maddie, and that’s final.”
And for the first time in her three years at The Corner Spa, Jeanette stood up and walked out on her boss, leaving Maddie openmouthed with shock.
Tom McDonald had been town manager of Serenity for one hour and fifteen minutes when Mayor Howard Lewis walked into his office, plopped his pudgy body into a chair and announced, “Let’s talk about Christmas.”
Tom leveled a withering gaze at him that was intended to nip that idea right in the bud. “Don’t you think we should be focusing on the budget, Howard? That comes up for a vote at the next council meeting and I need to be up to speed on what the priorities are around Serenity.”
“I’ll tell you what the top priority is,” Howard replied with single-minded determination. “Christmas. We do it up big here in Serenity. Needs to be done right, so you need to call a meeting now. Get those chamber of commerce people and a few business leaders involved. I’ll give you some names.”
While Tom tried to figure out the best way to say no, Howard’s expression turned thoughtful.
“Look,” Howard said, “we could use some new decorations for the square, now that there are a few new businesses downtown. Maybe some of those big lighted snowflakes. I’m thinking downtown is where this year’s celebration ought to be, just like the old days. The park’s great, but there’s something about a town square that just goes with an old-fashioned Christmas, don’t you think?”
Tom ignored the question. “Are new decorations in the current budget?” he asked, trying to be practical and to avoid the quagmire of admitting his own distaste for the holidays.
“I doubt it,” Howard replied with a shrug. “But there’re always a few dollars here and there that can be used for emergencies. Discretionary funds, isn’t that what you call them?”
“Snowflakes hardly qualify as an emergency purchase,” Tom told him, wondering if he was going to have many discussions like this during his tenure in Serenity. If so, it was going to be a frustrating experience.
Howard waved off his objections. “You’ll find a way, I’m sure. The point is to get started on this now.”
“It’s September, Howard,” Tom reminded him, his dread growing in direct proportion to Howard’s unwavering determination.
Howard waved off the reminder. “And it takes time to get things organized, especially when you have to rely on volunteers. Surely you know that. Your résumé cited all that organizational experience you have. Use it.”
“It seems to me that since you have so much enthusiasm for this project, you should be the one in charge,” Tom said, unable to keep the desperate note out of his voice. Another minute of even thinking about pulling together a Christmas celebration and he’d be sweating openly.
He’d grown up in a household that began holiday preparations not much later than this, complete with decorators who made every downstairs room in his family’s Charleston household a designer’s Christmas showcase before the round of social occasions began right after Thanksgiving. Heaven forbid that he or his sisters actually try to unwrap one of the packages on display under any of the lavishly decorated trees. Most were nothing more than empty boxes. Like a lot of things that went on in the McDonald home, it was all about show, not substance.
He was aware that Howard was studying him with a narrowed gaze. “You got something against Christmas?” the mayor inquired.
“In the religious context, absolutely nothing,” Tom said quickly. “I’m just saying that organizing a bunch of decorations and such is not an effective use of my time. Then there’s the whole issue of religious displays on public property, separation of church and state and all that. We need to be careful. The courts are ruling against a lot of these displays.”
“Nonsense,” Howard said. “This is Serenity. Nobody here objects to Christmas.” He stood up. “I’ll want to see a report on your progress with this before next Thursday’s council meeting. Understood?”
Tom barely resisted a desire to close his eyes and pray for patience. “Understood,” he said, tight-lipped.
Putting him in charge of the celebration, he thought sourly, was a little bit like turning it over to Scrooge.
If Jeanette had been a drinker, her conversation with Maddie would have sent her straight to a bar. Instead, it sent her fleeing to Sullivan’s for a double serving of Dana Sue’s famous apple bread pudding topped with cinnamon ice cream. The order—or a report on her sour mood from the waitress—immediately drew Dana Sue out of the kitchen.
The owner of Serenity’s
