Chapter 9 #2
He was the type of young man she used to date. The realization hit Victoria with crushing force. Spencer was Lance. A guy who had everyone’s attention. But why? All he planned to do with his future was follow up on his father’s contacts and make a lot of money.
Not that there was anything wrong with Spencer’s career plans. They’d probably work out great for him. But Victoria saw things so differently now. And she was excited by that broader view that included people she didn’t even know existed months ago. She wanted to help.
“Health care needs. Appointments with a doctor, medicine, if needed. And a hot meal.” She smiled. If only they could see her in a hairnet. Her mother might faint into the mashed potatoes.
Daddy had stopped eating. “Is that the facility run by the doctor from the urgent care center, Victoria? The one you mentioned earlier?”
“Yes, Dr. Darling runs the clinic.”
“You’re kidding me, right? That’s really his name?” When Spencer snorted, Victoria wanted to rub potatoes in his hair.
“Yes, that really is his name. Derek Darling is happy taking care of people who can't afford to see a doctor. In the evenings he works in the urgent care center. Any free time is spent calling on other physicians and pharmaceutical companies asking for freebies.”
“Who’s ready for dessert?” Picking up the tiny gold bell next to her plate, Mama rang. The conversation had made her mother uncomfortable. Maybe her parents would always be out of touch with the real world.
Maribelle's son appeared and whisked away the dishes.
From what she could recall, Luther was in college now.
Soon Maribelle entered carrying an enormous coconut cake on a crystal pedestal.
Her mother knew how to do Christmas entertaining right.
Victoria wasn't hungry for dessert. “None for me, thank you. The roast filled me up.” How much longer would she have to sit here?
Maisy had mentioned the Advent tree lighting.
Hungry for Christmas spirit, she wanted to be there.
“I'll take some.” Spencer had decided to bury himself in food. His father and Daddy took enormous chunks. Mama and Mrs. Spencer picked at token slivers.
Looking at the glorious tree standing next to the fireplace in all its glistening beauty, Victoria couldn't help but think of the tree at the clinic––so simple with its cardboard cutouts and the hopeful Christmas wishes. And of course her tree at the shop wasn’t any more glamorous.
Her mother might call that a hodge podge but Victoria loved it.
“Feel free to stop by Victoria's Pantry and see our tree.” But she decided not to go into the decorations.
“Did you find the ornaments you wanted up in the attic, dear?” her mother asked, picking at her miniscule piece of cake. Poor Mama counted every calorie, although she was slim as a stick of peppermint.
“I found the green felt bell that I made in fifth grade.”
Her mother seemed to be searching her mind. But Daddy's face lit up. “Why, Bitsy, I remember that.”
Victoria caught the smirk on Spencer’s face at hearing Daddy’s pet name for her. How she wished Daddy could see that she wasn’t Bitsy anymore.
“Has it been lost in the attic all this time?” His eyes swung to Mama, who did not look up.
Poor Daddy. “I found the ornament tucked away in a big tub marked Old Decorations.”
By this time Mama had heard enough. Doubtlessly, she had an agenda for this dinner with the Hutchinsons. “So Spencer, your mother tells me you plan to be in Palm Beach this Christmas season?”
“That's what she tells me too.” Spencer gave Victoria’s mother a cringe-worthy wink. “Some of the guys from school are going over to Ibiza. Sounds like a party I can’t miss.”
Mama’s shock was evident. Her plan might be derailed. The poor girls in Ibiza. “And miss Palm Beach? You would have lots of chances to party there––cocktail parties, marvelous food, music––all the traditions we love.”
“Same old, same old.” By now Spencer was squirming in his chair. “I have a different kind of holiday planned, Mrs. Pomeroy.” His own mother’s face had turned pale. Did she know of his plans?
Leaning back, he grinned. “I'm looking forward to watching football with the guys and making some bets at the tables. Stuff like that.”
Augusta’s eyebrows lifted. If there was one thing that she did not like, it was gambling.
The air had gone out of the room. Victoria almost felt sorry for Mama.
Not long after that, Spencer excused himself and left.
His mother turned down coffee, saying she’d had a long day.
Mr. Hutchinson gave an equally unconvincing excuse and they were soon gone.
Folding her napkin neatly at her plate, Mama walked out to the kitchen to talk to Maribelle. Victoria was thrilled to have Daddy all to herself. “So tell me about this clinic, sweetheart,” he said. “You say this young man's doing good work there?”
“He is, Daddy.” Since her father seemed genuinely interested, she went into stories about the people she saw in the clinic. The mother with her asthmatic child, who couldn’t pay her last ER bill. The homeless man who needed his diabetic feet checked. The number of children coming for immunizations.
“And what kind of volunteer work do you do?”
“Believe it or not, I began by washing dishes.” When Daddy burst into a shocked roar, Victoria joined in.
But then he settled down to business. “Can you get me some numbers?
You know, expense figures. What it takes to run the clinic––that kind of thing.
But then I suppose this young man's father may already have taken this on.”
How amazing that Daddy would assume that people her age would immediately turn to their parents. Not that help wasn’t welcome. “Derek seems pretty proud. I think he’s in this on his own. But he’s enlisting help from other doctors.”
“Sounds like he’s a hard-working young man.” Daddy smiled with understanding. “How well I recall starting out. I imagine he has a family to support.”
“Oh, Dr. Darling’s not married.” Moving right along. “Can you do me a favor, Daddy?”
“Maybe. Depends.” But his smile told her that was a yes.
“I’ve written an article about the clinic, interviewing Dr. Darling so that people would know about his work.”
Although she didn’t think it was possible, she’d surprised her father. “You wrote an article?”
“Yes, I did.” Basically she had a very rough draft but no need to go into detail. “Any ideas about who I should contact at the Sweetwater Gazette about running it?”
“No problem. I’ll give Reginald a call in the morning. You’ve met Reginald Osborne, the editor. He’d probably be glad to have your article.”
“Oh, thank you, Daddy.” Although she liked to be independent, there was definitely a benefit in having a father with connections.
Before her mother returned from the kitchen, Victoria escaped. Sure, she felt guilty about the gowns covering her bed upstairs. But she didn’t want to think about Christmas at Palm Beach, although she’d have to straighten things out soon with Mama.
Holiday lights brightened the houses, making Sweetwater Creek look like one of those holiday villages.
When she reached the square, crowds had gathered at the Advent wreath.
She rolled down her window to catch the Christmas carols floating on the crisp night air.
Parking her car in back of her shop, she hurried across the street.
Making her way through the crowd, she finally found Emily, Bryn and Josie.
While they sang “O, Little Town of Bethlehem,” she felt peace settle over her.
This Christmas was turning out to be very different than any other. But it might just be the best.
Had the whole world changed.
Or had she?