Page 63 of The Christmas Keepsake
Mallory realized then that she hadn’t thought out her life path clearly. She just knew she loved acting and everything theater. But no way was she going to abandon her sister. Or Nan. It was true that Nan had struggled financially after Grandpa Mickey had died. The meager earnings of the bimonthly plays barely covered expenses. Looking at her mother that day, she realized too that she didn’t want to be like Daisy.
Daisy who had left her daughters to chase her own dreams.
Mallory didn’t want to struggle financially either. She wanted to repay Nan by making her life easier. Mallory’s grades had always been good, and there were scholarships available to her because of her hours of volunteer work and the fact that she was adopted, even if her adoption was by blood relatives.
After that visit from Daisy, nursing was her future. Acting was her past.
Mallory pulled off the gray wig of Mrs. Claus with a sigh of relief, still reflecting on her youth and the theater. On Daisy and Nan. Now that Mallory was reading Nan’s story, she understood the woman behind her grandmother so much more. She wished she’d known earlier all the things Nan had been through, so she could’ve spoken to Nan about them. She wished she could’ve asked questions, because there was so much more she wanted to know. Details that only Nan could fill in and maybe never would.
“So, how’s it feel to play Mrs. Claus?” Savannah stepped into the dressing room. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.
Mallory looked at Savannah through the mirror. “Amazing.”
Savannah waggled her brows. “Is it playing Mrs. Claus that’s amazing or playing the other half to Hollis Franklin?”
If Mallory were honest, it was both. Okay, maybe one was more fun than the other, but she was still nervous about ever allowing herself to fully fall for Hollis.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t tell me. I’m only your best friend who you’re supposed to share every detail of your life with.” Her expression turned serious. “The fact that you’re holding your feelings closer to your chest tells me everything I need to know.”
Mallory began to pull off the heavy red velvet dress, transforming herself back into herself. A single, almost thirty-year-old woman who was well on her way to becoming a burnt-out nurse.
“I like him,” she told Savannah, turning to face her friend.
“Well, duh,” Savannah said with a small laugh. “Is that all the tea you’re going to spill?” She lifted her brows high on her forehead.
Mallory had been keeping the kiss she’d shared with Hollis to herself. She was savoring it and protecting the moment from outside opinion. Looking at Savannah now, though, she suddenly wanted to talk about it. “We’ve only kissed once,” she finally said.
Savannah squealed softly. “Now we’re talking!” She pointed a finger in Mallory’s direction. “And, for the record, he doesn’t kiss and tell because Evan knows nothing.” Her friend rubbed her hands together. “Is he a good kisser?” Savannah asked.
Mallory pretended to zip her lips, but heat burned her cheeks. “I don’t kiss and tell either,” she said, hesitating before saying more. “But yes, he is.”
The Friendship Ornament
The Friendship Ornament is in the box labeled number 10. It’ll be a tiny red box. Inside, you’ll find a safety pin with sparkling, eye-catching beads threaded through the pin. It was probably made as a friendship item. I remember when that was a popular trend. When I found the beaded safety pin on the ground outside my doctor’s office, I needed a friend more than anything. I picked it up and put it in my pocket, drawing comfort from it somehow as I walked inside the building. Now, the lost and found item is part of this Memory Tree. A crucial part.
Here’s the story behind it.
The cast ofSanta, Babyhad been rehearsing three times a week for over a month, and everything to that point had been running so smoothly. The actors were fantastic, the set was coming together beautifully, and Mickey… oh, Mickey. He was the perfect Santa to my Mrs. Claus. After Michael’s stillbirth a couple of months earlier, I had worried it might create a distance between us. But if anything, we were more in love than ever.
Then one morning, I woke with a start, my stomach lurching. I barely made it to the toilet before the contents of my stomach came rushing up. Was this the flu? No, no, nooooo.
I headed down the stairs, but the smell of coffee only made my nausea worse. Mickey was at the kitchen table with a newspaper laid out in front of him. When he looked up, I remember how his ready smile dropped.
“Nan? You okay, sweetheart? You look a little green.”
I didn’t want to worry him. “I’m fine, just a little queasy. Probably something I ate.”
He immediately got up and poured me a glass of water, leading me to the chair that he had been sitting in.
“I can’t be sick. I can’t direct this play if I’m laid up in bed. And I certainly can’t play Mrs. Claus if I feel…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I sprung up out of the chair and raced down the hall toward the bathroom.
I was sick. Oh no. “What if I’ve infected the entire cast?” I cried to Mickey with my head over the toilet. It wasn’t like me to cry in front of him. “If we all come down with the flu, the play will be ruined.”
“It’s okay, Nannie. If you’re sick, it’s probably just a twenty-four-hour thing. The play is a week away. It’ll work out… But to be safe, I think you should see Dr. Webber today.” Mickey placed a hand on my back. “I’ll call and see if they can fit you in this morning.”
An hour later, I parked in the lot in front of my doctor’s office and walked across the pavement as a light sprinkle began to fall. Something caught my eye just before stepping under the awning. A little safety pin strung with colorful beads that made a lovely rainbow design. I don’t know why I picked it up, but I put it in my pocket and continued into the office. It wasn’t until I was sitting on the exam table in Dr. Webber’s office, my legs swinging nervously, that I pulled it out again, admiring it. All my senses were heightened in the moment. The paper crinkled beneath me as I shifted my weight, waiting for the doctor to return and tell me it was nothing. I was fine.
“Well, Nan,” he said, finally walking in, “I know what’s going on with you. You’re not sick.” Dr. Webber cleared his throat. “You’re pregnant.”
