Christmas Trinkets Read online

  She repositioned the pillows against the back of the couch, and nestled as close to Kameron as she dared. “Unless you’re tired, may I share how Jesus reached down and caught my attention?”

  “I’m always open to a good story. Maybe I could use it for one of my characters.”

  “The youth you write for need Jesus’s love as much as the rest of the world. OK.” She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer for the right words. “At some point in elementary school, Mom told me she hadn’t grown up going to church, but visited with friends in high school. In such a small town as Edgewood, almost everyone goes, especially with a church only blocks away. I think it started out as a denomination, but anyone I know calls Edgewood nondenominational.”

  She paused while Kameron settled back, more relaxed in the shoulder, but his jaw clenched. Lord, please make him listen.

  “Blythe and I were the only girls in town the same age so it was natural to do church stuff together. We went to camp and youth group and I listened every time I heard the sinner’s prayer. I figured since I hadn’t done anything really bad, I was a Christian. The Bible never made sense, and I had a hard time looking the teachers in the eye, just in case they could see right into my heart.”

  Kameron bridged his knees and leaned over to rest his chin on his folded arms. “That’s my mantra when it came to Gregg.”

  “By high school I knew Jesus wasn’t personal to me. I asked to talk to the youth leader’s wife. She was young and chic and asked me point blank if what I knew in my head was in my heart. ‘If Jesus is in your heart and you want to know Him, you crave getting to know Him through the Bible.’” Hayley gulped water from the glass on the coffee table. “I looked deep in my own soul for the first time. I pictured Jesus on the cross, bleeding and dying as He dealt with my sin. He paid it all. I now crave my time alone with no one but the Lord.”

  “I’m glad it all worked out for you. My soul is so dark and wicked, God doesn’t want me any more than my mother did.” Kameron jumped to his feet.

  “I get it, I’ll try to back off. You’re staying in a pastor’s house. Pick up one of the Bibles and read Ephesians 3:18-19. I read, accepted, and try to submit to the truths that the Bible teaches. God transformed my life. I find my worth in Jesus. I read and study the Bible as much as I can. That book is worth more to me than all the antiquities in the shop.” Hayley stood and slid her arms around Kameron. “My heart belongs to Jesus. He’s made His home within me. He wants you to come to Him. It’s natural to wonder why God gave you to an unknown woman who dropped you at Pastor Gregg’s. You are God’s son, He adopted you before you were born.”

  She pulled back, kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll pray for you, and try not to make you feel pressured. I want only the best for you. See you in the morning.”

  

  Kameron had chosen to live his life alone. Even with the dogs, the place seemed dead since Hayley left. He could have held her all night long. He’d never let a woman close, never spent one-on-one time, as odd as that sounded for a grown man. His arms had encircled her as though they had a mind of their own.

  He closed his eyes and still smelled her above the aroma of burning wood and slumbering dogs. Citrus, other underlying fruits, and what must be her own feminine scent. Dwelling on her sure wasn’t getting any writing done.

  He opened his laptop, logged on, and clicked his file. Should he consider a character longing for or being close to God? Which one? Index fingers tapping on the F and J keys, he raised his eyes and scanned a bookshelf. Bibles and concordances all in a neat row. His fingers stilled.

  What verse had Hayley mentioned? Following the compulsion, he set aside the laptop and nabbed a Bible. Kameron’s gaze found verse seventeen, and he read through nineteen. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have the power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

  That was all well and good for Hayley and other believers. Pastor Gregg. Teresa and her family. If this dark soul was to be measured by God, He’d find it empty.

  ****

  Sunshine roused the dogs early the next morning. They all walked the trail. Kameron let them run thirty minutes longer than usual. As soon as they finished lapping water, they plopped and fell asleep.

  The quiet encouraged him to write rather than trek over for Hayley’s coffee. He’d noted four new cars parked out front of the garage. The closer Christmas loomed, the more customers would arrive at Auntie’s Antiquities to keep Hayley busy.

  Time for him to get cracking while the dogs slept. The girl he’d introduced in his story was a foundling. She’d foraged for food and warmth her whole life and had only survived thanks to a kind officer’s wife who’d signaled when it was safe for the girl to enter the village. She wandered too close to their cave in the forest, and met the lost boys, the first kids she’d ever seen.

  He poured himself into how the fictitious girl felt, and he had to stop calling her girl as he typed. He christened her Muir. She hated her life, questioned why she was even alive. The only friend she had was the woman, but she was married to the children’s enemy. Muir’s heart quickened at running into the boys’ home.

  Much like his own did in Hayley’s presence.

  The prospect of no longer being alone frightened Muir at first, but she grudgingly admitted she needed the boys’ friendship.

  As he’d come to need Hayley.

  Winter barreled across the wood floor and laid his head across Kameron’s lap. If he were a laughing man he would have let her rip, the way the dog jerked Kameron’s head from where he’d been. In the zone, according to Hayley. Another author might feel euphoric over the way the words had flown. He noted the time. Two hours had passed and he’d added nine pages. Yep. With flying fingers like that, he’d make his agent’s deadline.

  “All right then, bow-wows, I’ll let you out back.” He saved his file and stood to stretch. The dogs bustled to the door. He dare not say “treat” out loud, or Winter would circle around, trip Kameron, and flatten Summer in the process.

  His mind still in the scene he was writing, he opened the back door. If this was Gregg’s permanent home, a doggy door would be a perfect Christmas gift. Kameron reached for the bag of joint supplements at the same time Summer yipped to come back inside. Even with a red Christmas coat around her small body, she quivered in the cold. Winter entered reluctantly.

  Kameron shook the bag. He counted out four bite-sized nuggets for the husky and one for the rat terrier. “Sit.”

  He closed the cupboard door at the same time the garage door rolled up. “What the?”

  The dogs exploded into barking and raced to the door.

  Gregg entered with an extra twinkle in his light blue eyes. “Hi, guys. And girl.”

  Kameron leaned against the counter, arms and ankles crossed, and waited.

  Frenzied greeting complete, Gregg’s gaze met Kameron’s. “Hello, son.”

  “Are you home early, or did I get my dates messed up?”

  “Sad to say, Amos came down with the flu virus. He insisted I leave in the hopes I wouldn’t become ill. We had some good days together. Georgia’s coastal area is nice, but I’ll always be a Nebraska boy at heart. So how have you been? Did you taste Hayley’s homemade fudge?”

  “Oh, yeah. Her never-ending coffee, too.”

  “Well, that’s good. Good. I’m ready for a cup now. Airport offerings are beyond my budget.”

  “I’ll carry your bag into your room and join you. Good timing for a break.”

  They soon sat across from one another at the small kitchen table. Seated, Gregg Kohl didn’t look his five-feet, six-inch height. He’d always been stocky, a lumberjack kind of guy, if they came short. His gray hair was whiter now, barely there. He turned his tender gaze on Kameron.

  “Uh, oh. I know that look.”

&n
bsp; Gregg chuckled, toasted the air with his coffee mug. “I thought of you the whole plane ride. Figure it was good for you to meet Hayley. If any woman can get a guy’s eyes off himself and his hard luck story, she can. Did she get close enough to let you know you need the Lord in your life?”

  “You taught her well. We’ve become friends. Even had dinner, I mean supper, according to Bette Jean and Ross, with them.”

  “Good. I never wanted you to go through the rest of your life alone. Teresa and I tried to provide security and point you in the direction of the only security that truly matters. But you’ve rejected the message of the love of Jesus as much as you’ve not invested in a friendship for the fear of being rejected.”

  Kameron had heard it all before. “Sure you didn’t have a course in psychology on your visit with Amos?”

  “As I said, I thought about you, and prayed. You are valued, Kameron. Worth something priceless to many of us.”

  “Don’t know if I’m ready to accept all that yet, much as I appreciate what you and Mom did for me. I can’t help it I grew up feeling unwanted and mistakenly born.”

  “No one is born by mistake.” Gregg settled a weighty hand on Kameron’s shoulder. “We all need to know which of two places we’re headed once we leave this earth. I want to see you in heaven with me some day, boy.”

  “What are you talking about? You won’t be going to heaven for quite some time.”

  “Just need to make you understand, to know in your heart that God loves each of us. He made us, and He makes no mistakes.”

  “Can we table it? I’d like to stay over, if that’s all right. Stop in for Hayley’s coffee before I leave.” Kameron pictured his corner of the four-plex on Plum Street in Lincoln. Cold, compared to Gregg’s house and Hayley’s digs. His apartment wasn’t personalized except for his books.

  Gregg laughed. Every line in his face added to his smile and the love in his eyes, which added to Kameron’s wretchedness.

  “Go ahead. It’s not like you live out of state. Your apartment is what, ten, twelve miles from here?” Gregg squeezed and let go of Kameron’s shoulder. “What you ought to do, is take her on a date.”

  He didn’t want to make Hayley a habit, let alone ask her out. His goal was to forget her. Could he forget? It was no big deal if she came into his head. He’d draw on that connection for his female characters. The woman already dwelled in his heart. A place he’d never opened for anyone, let alone God or Jesus.

  8

  The words weren’t flowing. Kameron stared at a cursor that had gone to sleep. He’d been home in his apartment two days. Home. It was just a place to sleep and work. Home was a place like Hayley’s where her sunny touch brightened her surroundings. Home was a place like Gregg’s where, needy and noisy as they were, dogs provided company.

  He gnawed his knuckle. The few words at the top of a blank computer page had been the same few words for longer than he knew. Instead of a conflict between characters related to his plot, memories of Hayley interrupted. Her joyful, energetic, gorgeous countenance kept rising to cloud the forefront of his mind.

  She cared for the people who inhabited her village, and the strangers who entered her shop to sift through her trinkets. Trinkets. Their matching jewelry trinkets should matter to both of them. God must have had a hand in the two of them meeting. The most important thing that mattered to her involved God’s message of salvation. She clung to Bible verses and cared enough for him, same as Gregg, to try to convince him that he, Kameron Kohl, needed Jesus in his life.

  He bit down so hard on his finger that he yelped.

  Maybe he’d get things to mesh if he ate. Nine thirty at night and he had no idea when he’d last eaten something. Food might feed the muse. He set aside the laptop and stood so fast his head swam. Collecting himself, he moved to flip on the counter light in the kitchenette and grabbed frozen lasagna from the freezer. To be civilized, he set the table. Plate instead of serving container. Glass for apple juice. Cup on the counter for coffee after he’d eaten.

  Once he’d finished, he still felt alone.

  I will never leave you nor forsake you.

  Kameron dropped his chin onto his chest. “Oh, God. I know You keep your promises. Touch my heart so my soul knows it.”

  

  The third morning since Kameron hadn’t come in. Hayley rearranged a Christmas display that offered goods from tiny slipper ornaments to Old St. Nick and Victorian postcards. She traced an angel figurine’s white hair, looked into the painted eyes. “Lord, I think I’m lonely for the first time ever. Please show me the way. I miss Kameron and don’t want to pressure him with what the Bible says. He’s lost and needs you, but I need to be his friend.”

  The day they’d first met, his forehead rippled at her interruption. She’d ignored it because on some level, she’d recognized his hurt. Although he wore that grim look and was clearly not open to small talk, she’d offered him friendship. What was he doing this very moment? Could he be missing her?

  Auntie’s Antiquities had always been her comfort zone. If she got bored with watching cartoons or later with homework while Mom worked downstairs, Hayley joined her. She got hooked into the collecting and selling thing and never wanted to move on to a big career. She’d never considered this a lonely life. Her life was normal, exactly where God wanted her.

  Until now, missing Kameron. As he entered her head for the hundredth time, she turned on her computer, ever searching pictures for chains or a double locket to match the one at her throat. How did jewelry get fishing names? Sailor, fish hook, lobster clasp, lanyard.

  The door opened. “Hey, old friend, I’m home.”

  “Blythe. Oh, my goodness. I’m so glad to see you.” Hayley bumped her knee against the edge of the breakfront, ignored the pain, and raced to her best friend’s open arms.

  They embraced and squeezed one another for a long time.

  Hayley stepped back to look into Blythe’s bright sea-green eyes. “God created a good thing in a hug.”

  “I’ve missed you, but I’m getting plenty of hugs.”

  “You have a boyfriend?”

  “I do. First I want a piece of fudge and cup of coffee. Your coffee is brewtiful. I’ve missed it almost as much as I’ve missed you.”

  “If there’s a man in your life, you haven’t been missing me much. You’re probably so busy you haven’t had time to remember me.”

  “Are you kidding? I have the special gifts you’ve given me over the years situated around my apartment. Do you have any small Christmas angels?”

  “Later. You’re changing the subject.” Hayley set out a fudge sampler and filled poinsettia decorated cups with aromatic spicy blend.

  Blythe inhaled. “His name is Trace. He’s on fire for the Lord. One of his favorite sayings is ‘If God is your co-pilot, you’d better switch seats.’”

  “Oh, I like that.” Hayley leaned closer as a noisy group of customers entered. “I can’t wait to tell you about the writer who watched over Pastor Gregg’s house. He came here because the dogs annoy him. I really like Kameron, but he’s been hurt in life. Though he knows what the Bible says, the Lord isn’t real to him.”

  “Got it.” Blythe savored a tiny bite of hazelnut fudge. “A writer. I can see the caption. ‘Lonely author comes to dog-sit for the pastor and melts the antiquities seller’s heart.’”

  “Silly girl.” Hayley punched the air between them, and finished her coffee. She left the counter to welcome a family.

  “Let me know if you have questions about anything.” To the three children, she pointed out the bank vault. “Inside that heavy door is all kinds of candy you’re welcome to check out if it’s OK with your parents.”

  A black-haired boy about six hesitated next to her.

  “Hi. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  “A kid.”

  Blythe pretended to cough. “Didn’t expect that answer, did you? Wouldn’t it be great to grow up with a child’s heart? Mom would
say Dad’s still a kid ‘cuz she watches out for him.”

  “I’ll sack up fudge for your mom.” Hayley answered a question about where to find a couple peacock goodies, glanced at the kids exclaiming over the penny candy in the vault, and returned to Blythe.

  “I’ll tell you all about Trace when you come over to eat. Mom said to ask if tomorrow night works.”

  “It works.”

  “So, tell me about this Kameron.” Blythe sipped coffee and waited.

  Hayley kept one eye on her customers, but glanced at the marble-topped antique table and pictured Kameron sitting there. “When he showed up he was so serious, unhappy. I barged in on his writing process by offering coffee. My heart went right out to him. Pastor Gregg’s sister adopted Kameron and took care of Pastor’s house and cooked meals. That means Kam grew up in the church. He admits Jesus isn’t in his heart. I’ve never seen him smile, but how does a person deal with being abandoned as an infant?”

  “Wow.” Blythe stood taller. “I believe your guy just walked in.”

  Hayley swiveled around. Sure enough, Kameron stood on the threshold. She rushed to meet him and encircled his arm. “Kam, hi. Come meet my best friend, Blythe Travis.”

  He nodded. “I’ve heard about you. Your mom’s a terrific cook.”

  “Don’t I know it. Writing is a mystery to me. Is it hard?”

  “I suppose it can be sometimes. It’s just what I do to keep myself busy.”

  “On that note, I need to hoof it across the street and keep Mom company or she’ll wonder why I came home.” Blythe grabbed her mom’s fudge.

  Hayley walked Blythe to the door.

  She kissed Hayley on the cheek and whispered, “He does look sad. And something besides lonely. He has a heavy heart.”

  Hayley filled a large mug and took it to Kameron, who was still wearing his coat. “It’s busy and bound to be noisy. Why don’t you go upstairs to write? Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll see you later?”

  His whole body released tension as though telling her thanks. Her handsome writer took to the hall and climbed the stars.