The Winter of Candy Canes (A Sweet Seasons Novel) Read online

  “You're so lucky that you get to spend time with her.”

  “I take it you don't get much time with your mom?”

  Sue shook her head and looked away.

  They worked fast and had the cart loaded up again in five minutes. “I think you're right,” Candace said as she closed up the van. “One more trip should do it.”

  “Told you,” Sue said.

  “So, how's college going?” Candace asked.

  Sue smiled. “Piece of cake.”

  “Isn't it hard to juggle work and school?”

  Sue shrugged. “It can be. The classes just haven't been that hard for me. I learned a lot of the stuff in high school, so most of it's really just a refresher.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Hey, at least I'm taking classes, and someday I'll get over to Cal State.”

  When they made it back to the booth, Candace was amazed at how much her mom had accomplished in such a short time. The antique-looking cash register sat proudly on a table next to two chairs. Merchandise was already sparkling on the green felt display areas. Her mom smiled at them as she hung an ornament from a hook on the roof of the booth.

  “Special delivery,” Sue called as they wheeled the cart to the back of the booth.

  “I just don't know what it could be,” Patricia said with an exaggerated smile.

  The two laughed as they unloaded boxes, and Candace noticed how happy Sue looked.

  After making a final run to the van, Patricia put Candace and Sue to work laying out merchandise on the counter and hanging wind chimes, ornaments, bird feeders, and art made of recycled material on the hooks.

  “How did you decide to have a booth here?” Sue asked.

  “The organization I work with chooses a venue each year to display holiday items and to attempt to raise awareness about environmental issues. This year we chose The Zone because of the excellent example it sets.”

  “How's that?” Sue asked.

  “They recycle over eighty percent of all the materials used in the park.”

  “Well, then that means they're definitely eco-friendly,” Candace said with a smile.

  “Exactly,” her mom said, giving her a quick hug.

  It had always seemed somewhat funny to Candace that while she could speak easily with both her parents about their professions, she had never felt any desire to follow in either of their footsteps. It wasn't that she didn't care about justice or clean drinking water, but she just didn't feel like she had a passion for those things like her parents did.

  Maybe someday she would find the thing that could make her talk for hours on a single subject to anyone who would listen. She hoped so. She envied them both their enthusiasm and dedication.

  She shook her head. She was being too hard on herself.

  More vendors arrived.

  “I think we've monopolized you long enough,” Patricia told Sue.

  “Yeah, I need to go help cart things for other people,” Sue said, sounding tired.

  “Good luck with that,” Candace said as the other girl took her cart and moved off.

  “She's nice,” Patricia said.

  Candace nodded.

  “She works janitorial, right?”

  “Yeah, and she goes to the same community college as Kurt.”

  They worked for another hour, and when they were done, they stood back to admire their handiwork.

  The booth looked inviting, and it blazed with color. It definitely outshone all the other booths that were finished. She gave her mom a quick hug.

  “It looks amazing, Mom.”

  “Thanks. Thank you for all your hard work. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. You're not going to be the only one working it, are you?”

  “No, there will be eight of us on rotation. I requested weekdays to work.”

  “Good for you. It's nice to have a choice,” Candace said with a sigh.

  “Not as much as I'd like. I'm working Friday.”

  “Looks like neither of us will be hitting the Black Friday sales,” Candace said.

  “Oh well, we'll just have to make up for it some other time.”

  Candace glanced at her watch. “What about now?” she asked.

  “I think we could arrange for a banzai run at the mall,” her mom said.

  The run turned out to be a one-hour literal run. By the time it was done, Candace was exhausted but had gotten gifts for more than half the people on her list. She was still coming up with a huge blank, though, next to the name Kurt. There was a little nagging voice in the back of her head that said if Thursday didn't go well, she might just be crossing his name off her list. She shook her head. It was only Thanksgiving dinner, what could go wrong?

  Wednesday evening Candace was a bundle of nerves when Tamara came to pick her up for Bible study. She wasn't sure which she was more stressed out about: leading Bible study or the possibility of something going wrong with Kurt and her family in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Are you sick?” Tamara asked suspiciously. “If you are, I'd appreciate you not giving it to me.”

  “I'm not sick, just stressed,” Candace told her. “Just drive before I chicken out.”

  They arrived at the youth building to find the parking lot empty. “Maybe no one will show up,” Candace said.

  “Don't count on it. We're ten minutes early.”

  They walked into the building, and for one second Candace was filled with hope, until she saw a small figure sitting on one of the floor pillows, knees tucked under her chin. She recognized Jen.

  “I'm so glad you're here!” Jen said. “I thought it was going to be just me.”

  “Candace was hoping it was just going to be her,” Tamara said.

  “Huh?” Jen asked.

  “Nothing,” Candace said, glaring at Tamara.

  Candace and Tamara grabbed their favorite couch in the room, and Candace carefully laid out everything she was going to need. Her stomach was still twisting in knots.

  Jen scooted closer. “I thought you were great in the maze at the Halloween thing at The Zone.”

  “Thanks,” Candace said.

  “It looked very exciting.”

  “A little too exciting,” Tamara piped up.

  Candace waved her hand. “Long story. Yes, I had fun, though. I'm glad you could come.”

  “Me too.”

  The other girls trickled in until they were all there. Everyone grabbed chairs and pillows and sprawled out in a rough circle. Finally, when everyone had settled in, they began.

  “Hello and welcome to Bible study,” Candace said.

  The next hour seemed to fly by. The initial meeting was less about studying and more about getting to know each other and hearing each other's stories. Both Candace and Tamara were “pew babies” who had been born and raised in the church. There were other pew babies in the group, as well as several who had found Christ on their own or through friends within the last couple years.

  It seemed like a good mix of girls, and Candace found herself relaxing as the time passed. Everyone there was eager to learn and discuss. That was going to make things a lot easier. She'd had nightmares where no one in the room talked except her.

  When the study was over, Candace and Tamara headed to Big D's for ice cream, only to find that three of the other girls had the same idea. They all ended up at the same table.

  “I can't believe tomorrow's Thanksgiving,” Eilene said.

  “I'm just so thankful for the four-day weekend. I'm totally exhausted,” Rachel said.

  “There's something we should talk about … what are we all thankful for?” Joy asked.

  It was a logical question, one they could have discussed at Bible study. Candace just wished she had been the one to think of it. What was she thankful for? There was a lot. Good friends, family, God, The Zone — all were right up there.

  “I'm thankful to live in a country where I'm free to say what I want and worship how I want,” Eilene said.

 
Eilene's family had originally been from Poland, and even though Eilene had been just two when they came to America, she still cherished her freedom. It was nice. Candace took so many things for granted because she had never known anything else.

  “I'm thankful that none of my teachers assigned homework for the break,” Rachel said.

  Candace smiled. Rachel could always be counted on to say something funny or lighthearted. She and Eilene were best friends. It seemed like such an odd combination, but they balanced each other out pretty well.

  “I'm thankful for having the best friend in the whole world,” Tamara said, smiling at Candace.

  Tamara was sitting across the table, otherwise Candace would have hugged her. “VH,” Candace said. VH was their code for Virtual Hug.

  “VH back,” Tamara said.

  “What about you, Candace?” Joy asked.

  “She's thankful she has a boyfriend to take to Winter Formal,” Tamara teased.

  Candace blushed. She hadn't even thought about Kurt. Too many thoughts crowded her mind. There were all the things she was thankful for and all the things she should be thankful for. Suddenly she wasn't in the mood to share, so she took the easy way out. “I'm thankful for ice cream,” she said just as the waitress appeared with their order.

  “I'm thankful to have a personal relationship with Christ Jesus,” Joy said.

  Of course you are, Candace thought. Joy was one of those girls who always gave the meaningful or pious answer. Candace could never tell if Joy really meant it or she just thought the show was expected.

  “I think that one is a no-brainer,” Candace said out loud and then clamped her hand over her mouth, horrified. I so did not mean to say that out loud!

  Tamara laughed, and Eilene and Rachel joined in.

  “At least it's something actually important, unlike ice cream,” Joy said, a fake smile plastered across her face.

  Now you've started a fight, good going. She sat there, a dozen retorts crossing her mind, and each of them more guaranteed than the last to inflame things. She decided to take a page from Rachel. “Yes, Christ is more important than ice cream. However, I believe that ice cream is clear evidence that God loves us and wants us to be happy,” Candace said, smiling like a good elf should.

  It worked. After a moment, Joy smiled back. “I can agree to that.”

  “I think we all can,” Rachel added.

  “Here, here,” Tamara said, lifting a spoon.

  Candace sighed to herself. Some days she had a real knack for getting on people's bad sides. She continued to smile at Joy as she dug into her ice-cream sundae. Only eleven more weeks of Bible study to go and then she could go back to sitting quietly in youth group and keep her big mouth from getting her into trouble.

  5

  Candace woke to the smell of turkey. She got up and ran downstairs in her pajamas just in time to see her father basting the bird.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said.

  “It smells great!”

  “It's coming along.”

  Her dad always cooked on holidays. He had been dubbed the “Grand Master of Thanksgiving” by friends and neighbors who had partaken of his Thanksgiving feasts.

  On the back of the stove rose several loaves of yeast bread, and a bag of potatoes sat on the counter waiting to be peeled and chopped. Candace's stomach growled in anticipation.

  “I need help with the table,” her mom said as she passed by with linens in her arms.

  “Just give me five minutes,” Candace said as she dashed back upstairs.

  Five minutes later she was back downstairs dressed in jeans and a tank top. She helped her mom set “the table” which was technically five tables: the dining table, the kitchen table, and three card tables all lined up end to end and stretching from the dining room through the living room.

  They draped the tables with gold tablecloths before dragging folding chairs out of the garage to supplement the ten chairs that were normally around the dining room table. Candace picked up the piano bench and moved it to the foot of the table where two plates were squeezed together.

  “Somehow I have a feeling you'll be volunteering to share the piano bench this year,” her mom said with a smile.

  “Well, Kurt and I could sit there,” Candace said, feigning indifference, “if you wanted.”

  Once the chairs were arranged, they got out the china and silverware and laid out the place settings. As a final touch Candace folded orange and brown linen napkins for each place.

  “Looks great!” her dad said as her mom set the cornucopia centerpiece in the middle of it all.

  “Thanks,” her mom said, surveying the layout. “Some day I'll have a dining room table long enough to seat all our guests,” she sighed.

  “Whoa! Time out. Last year all you wanted was matching chairs. Now you want a new table?” her dad teased.

  “The longer I go with what I've got, the more I'm going to want,” she said.

  Candace smiled. They had been discussing the state of the seating arrangements every Thanksgiving for as long as she could remember.

  “Well, I figure I just have to hold out a couple more years,” her dad said. “Then Candace will be married and she can host Thanksgiving at her house. I'll be out of the woods on the whole table and chairs thing.”

  “What?” Candace asked, blushing uncontrollably.

  “Candace is too young to get married,” her mother said.

  “I said in a couple of years,” her father answered. “I don't expect Candace to get married today.”

  “Um, Candace is in the room,” she said, trying to get her parents' attention.

  “Yes, you are, honey,” her mom said.

  “So, I'm betting I know who thinks she's sharing the piano bench with a certain young man,” her father said.

  “Kurt and I are going to sit on the piano bench,” Candace said.

  “I remember when your mom and I sat on the piano bench together at her parents' house one Thanksgiving. You remember that, sweetheart?”

  “No,” her mom said, but the blush creeping across her cheekbones gave her away.

  Candace bit back a giggle as she watched her dad make googly eyes at her mom. Her parents were the only ones she knew who could still act like teenagers when the mood took them. She just hoped she and her husband could be like that when they were older. But not for a long time … a very long time. Years even.

  Her dad turned his attention back to the table. “You know, I don't much like the color brown. Why don't we take off those napkins and put the green ones out?”

  “Because green is not a Thanksgiving color,” her mom said, shaking her head.

  “Sure it is. Why, there are leaves on the tree that are still that color.”

  “The tree in the yard is green all year round,” her mom pointed out.

  “See? And orange — I really don't like orange. Red is a Thanksgiving color. Lots of leaves on the ground under other trees are red.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You want to take off the orange and brown and have the table be gold, red, and green?”

  “Yes, why not?”

  “Because those are Christmas colors,” her mom said.

  “Well, then let's have Christmas instead. I think I found where you hid my presents.”

  Candace doubled over laughing as her mom glared and wagged a finger at him. A timer went off in the kitchen, and he used it as an excuse to make his exit.

  “Every year it's the same thing. We haven't even carved the Thanksgiving turkey, and he's trying to declare Christmas,” her mom said.

  “You love it, admit it,” Candace said.

  Her mom smiled. “Never where he could hear me.”

  By the time the first guests arrived, the house was spotless, the turkey was cooling, and Candace was dressed in black slacks and an emerald green blouse. Her dad had hugged her, tousled her red hair, and thanked her for bringing Christmas to the party even if her mom wouldn't.

  Soon relativ
es and friends poured into the house bringing with them more sparkling cider than they could all drink in a week. Candace ended up with the job of grabbing the bottles at the door and stacking them in the garage to keep cool once they ran out of room in the refrigerator.

  Each time the doorbell rang, her heart skipped a beat, because she thought it was Kurt. The more time that passed before his arrival, the more nervous she became.

  The doorbell rang again as she was leaving the garage. “I'll get it!” she yelled, a little louder than she had intended.

  She threw open the door and sagged in relief against it when she saw Kurt. He smiled at her nervously, and she suppressed the urge to giggle. He was wearing black Dockers and a green button-down shirt.

  “Looks like I'm conforming to the dress code,” he said with a tight smile.

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Then, aware that others were watching, she quickly pulled away and stepped aside to let him enter.

  “So that's the young man we've been hearing about,” one of her mom's coworkers said, loud enough for Candace to hear.

  “How sweet you two look with your matching outfits,” her great-aunt Bernice exclaimed.

  “Thank you, it was an accident,” Candace said, vaguely feeling the need to explain.

  “Then that means you're soul mates,” one of her mom's other coworkers, the one Candace thought of as Hippie Freak, said with a dreamy-eyed expression.

  The doorbell rang again, and Candace found herself in charge of four more bottles of sparkling cider — grape this time. She hurried them into the garage, feeling guilty about leaving Kurt alone for even a minute. She had just decided to take Kurt on a tour of the house when her mom called everyone to attention.

  “Now that we're all here, you can go ahead and find a seat at the table,” she said.

  Candace grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him over to the piano bench.

  “What is this? The equivalent of the kid's table?” he joked as he tried to get his long legs under the table.

  “No, dear. That's the lovers' bench,” Bernice said, patting Kurt's hand as she sat down nearby.

  “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “Nothing,” Candace said.