The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love (29 page)

Maria laughed. “Sage. The dressing’s no good without it.”

“Well, come inside and get it.” He waved her into the store. “I thought I’d hang around down here for a while this morning in case anyone needed anything.” He tilted his head and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Besides, I’m just in the way up there.”

Maria knew that Mrs. Vanderpool and her daughters-in-law would be hard at work on their own meal upstairs. She could smell mincemeat pie baking.

“I won’t be a minute.” She dashed down the appropriate aisle and snagged a tiny jar of sage. As she headed back to the register, she heard the door open and someone else enter the store.

“Morning, young man.” Mr. Vanderpool seemed pleased rather than perturbed to have customers this morning.

“Good morning, sir.”

Maria would have known that voice anywhere. Her first instinct was to hide behind the shelves of cake mix, frosting, and flour, and she followed it. James Delevan. What was he doing back in Sweetgum?

Daphne had been hurt that Evan never called or contacted her after their night at the movie theater. Maria wasn’t completely surprised. Evan seemed attracted to her sister, but he was old-money Memphis. He probably had women lining up outside his door. A sweet, gentle soul like Daphne wouldn’t stand a chance against a cosmopolitan woman who ordered dirty martinis and shopped at designer boutiques.

“Maria? Are you okay back there?” Mr. Vanderpool’s voice
floated over the top of the shelves. From her crouched position, Maria cringed. Quickly, she scanned the shelf in front of her and grabbed a bag of mini marshmallows that rested at eye level. She lurched to her feet.

“Just grabbing some marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole,” she said with a bright, forced smile. Like an idiot, she waved the bag in the air. “Wouldn’t be the same without these.” She paused, then acted surprised, as if she’d just noticed James Delevan. “Oh, hello.”

Mr. Vanderpool gave her a funny look. Maria ignored it.

She darted for the end of the aisle and the cash register by the door. “I think that’s all I need.” She reached into her jacket pocket and grabbed her wallet, trying her best to ignore James Delevan. She could almost feel his gaze fixed on the right side of her face. If his look grew any more intense, he might laser her ear off.

“That’ll be six dollars and forty-eight cents,” Mr. Vanderpool said.

Maria grabbed a bill from her wallet and fished around for the correct change in the zippered pocket. All the while, James Delevan just stood there. Didn’t the man have some emergency ingredient he needed to look for? No doubt Evan’s sister was whipping up a gourmet meal right out
of Food & Wine
, although she was out of luck in Sweetgum if she needed something fancy like truffle oil or endive.

At last, purchase completed, she was forced to face him.

“Hello, Maria.” He looked so grave that she wondered if someone had died. Mr. Vanderpool wandered off, leaving the two of them alone.

“Merry Christmas.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yes. Merry Christmas.”

“So you’re back in Sweetgum.” The brilliance of her conversation was second to none. What was it about this man that reduced her to bumbling idiot status?

“Yes.”

“Spending the holiday with Evan?”

To her surprise, James shook his head. “I’m on my own.”

If he wasn’t staying with Evan, why would he come back? “Where are you staying?”

“Sugar Hill.”

Again, Maria was surprised. “I thought the Parsons closed it for the holiday so they could go to their daughter’s house in Louisville.”

“They have. Gone to their daughter’s, I mean. But they were kind enough to allow me the run of the place.”

“But…” She didn’t know what to add after that
but.
“You’re celebrating Christmas alone?”

“I don’t think
celebrate
is the right word. Let’s just say I’m riding it out solo.”

She noticed a funny look in his eyes, haunted almost.
Riding it out solo.
Maria thought she’d never heard anything sadder in her life. Her own family was thoroughly dysfunctional—her
mother drove her crazy, she despaired of Daphne ever being fully appreciated by a worthy man, and Stephanie couldn’t be depended upon for anything other than converting oxygen to carbon dioxide—but at least they were together. At least they were a family, even if a rather warped one.

“You can’t do that.”

He lifted that eyebrow again, the one that went a mile high. He was almost as good at it as her mother. “I can’t?”

“I mean, you shouldn’t have to. No one wants to be alone on Christmas. Surely, someone asked you—” She stopped herself What if she was wrong? What if no one had invited him to be a part of their holiday meal? She couldn’t conceive how that might possibly happen to a man like James Delevan, but then again…

“My half sister’s my only family,” he said, looking grim. “She’s skiing in Aspen with friends from boarding school.”

“Boarding school?” Aspen? He really was rich.

“She’s a junior. Seventeen.” He smiled sadly, and Maria could tell he was fond of his sister, half or not, which made her feel even sorrier for him.

“And your parents?”

“They passed away a number of years ago.”

“Oh.”

A hollow silence fell. Maria swallowed and took a deep breath, knowing she had to follow the dictates of her upbringing in that moment, even though every shred of common sense told her to keep her mouth closed.

“Since you’re on your own…”
Don’t do it, don’t do it
, a little voice chanted inside her head. “Since you’re on your own, why don’t you come have Christmas dinner with my family?”

His eyes widened, and for a moment he looked as if he’d been poleaxed. “With your family?”

“You’re right. That’s a stupid idea.” Maria shifted the small paper bag in her arms. “I’d better run.” She started to do just that, but his voice stopped her.

“I’d like that.”

“You’d like for me to run?”

He smiled then. Grinned, really. She’d never seen that expression on his face, and it transformed him. Instead of dour, he looked relaxed and approachable.

“No. Well, I don’t have an opinion on the running thing one way or the other, but if you meant it, I’d like to spend Christmas with you.”

“Oh.” She plastered a smile on her face that she hoped equaled his. “Okay. Follow me.”

They exited the grocery store and stepped across the street to her door. As they climbed the steep flight of stairs, she half wished they would open up and swallow her. Their living quarters were a mess, and there was no telling what kind of reception he would receive from her mother or Stephanie, if she was even awake yet. At least Daphne would make him feel like a welcome guest.

Maria opened the door at the top of the stairs and stepped
inside, James hard on her heels. “Mom, I’m back,” she called. “And I’ve brought company.”

Several hours later, when they sat down to eat, Maria couldn’t believe how well the morning had gone. She also had no idea where the James Delevan she’d known before had gone.

Without even being asked, he had worked beside her, helping prepare the meal. As it turned out, he was a fairly experienced cook. He took over the sweet potato casserole and the green beans almondine while Maria made the dressing and Daphne finished the pies. The rooms above Munden’s had once been leased by a caterer who’d eventually gone broke, but she’d left behind double ovens and an enormous range. With a little coordination and some good luck, they managed to have everything ready at the same time, the turkey browned and beautiful enough to be on the cover
of Martha Stewart Living.

Her mother had greeted James cordially, if a bit stiffly, and then retreated to the bedroom to watch television. Stephanie eventually appeared and, under duress, set the table for the meal. For the most part though, Maria, Daphne, and James had been left to their work.

Now, as Maria sat in the chair James had pulled out for her at their small dining table, she felt a little like Alice in Wonderland when she’d fallen down the rabbit hole.

The James Delevan who’d spent the morning by her side in the kitchen, elbow deep in sweet potatoes and beans, was not the
same stuffy stranger who’d first come to her store or attended that covered dish dinner at the church. And he certainly wasn’t the same man she’d taken to the dentist that night. For one thing, he smiled quite a bit since all of his teeth were intact. And for another, he’d actually laughed at some of the jokes she and Daphne made. Something about him was different. The set of his shoulders was more relaxed, as was the line of his jaw.

“Thank you,” Maria said as he helped her push her chair closer to the table. “You’ve certainly earned your share of the meal.” She intended it to be humorous, but the words came out more seriously than she intended. “We don’t usually turn our guests into indentured servants,” she added, trying to lighten her tone.

“I enjoyed it,” was all he said.

He’d already seen her mother to her seat, and now he turned his attentions to Daphne and Stephanie. His chivalry clearly pleased Daphne, and Stephanie looked over the moon. Maria could almost see her trying to calculate James’s net worth in her head. Since Stephanie had never progressed much past long division, that was no doubt a feat beyond her abilities.

“Mama, would you like to say the blessing?” Maria asked.

Althea’s head popped up. “The blessing?”

Maria felt the flush that rose to her cheeks throughout her body. She didn’t want James Delevan to think they were total heathens. Not that they prayed before every meal, but her father had always done the honors on special occasions like this.

Daphne looked worriedly at Maria. “Maybe you should—”

“Dad always said the blessing,” Stephanie blurted with her usual lack of tact or sensitivity. “A man should say the blessing.”

Maria didn’t agree with that statement for several reasons, not the least of which was that James again looked like he’d been poleaxed.

“I can—,” she began.

“I’d be glad to,” he interrupted, but then turned an apologetic look on her. “Sorry. Of course you’d rather do it. Your family. Your house.”

Maria looked into his eyes, saw that haunted quality, and wondered again why he’d agreed to spend Christmas with them. He must have been really desperate or lonely. Or something equally awful.

“No. I mean, if you don’t mind…” She cleared her throat. “It would be great if you said the blessing.”

She wasn’t expecting much, a few formal, ritualized words like her father had always said. It had never been about the content of the prayer, of course. The ritual itself provided the meaning, the acknowledgment of the occasion.

James did more than that. He invited them to bow their heads, and then he prayed. Not stiffly or formally, but not like some of the long-winded, self-important preachers Maria had heard either. His prayer was well-thought-out, reminded them of the bounty of their blessings, and asked for guidance and strength to live lives of gratitude.

When he was done, everyone sat silently for a moment, even
Stephanie and her mother, until Stephanie said, “Who’s going to carve the turkey?”

Her question made Maria’s chest ache. Yet another of her fathers responsibilities, yet another hole in their lives. But once again James stepped into the void.

“If you need me to, I can do it.”

Maria looked at her mother, whose eyes were moist. The older woman nodded. “Please.”

And that simply, that quickly, James Delevan found a place in the Munden family circle. It was the last place in the world Maria would have expected him to seem at home, but he did. He wielded the carving knife with experienced precision, and in another few moments all of the dishes had been handed around, the turkey had been distributed, and they were laughing and eating and squabbling as they had every other Christmas dinner of their lives.