First Kiss at Christmas by Lee Tobin McClain

CHAPTER SIX

SYLVIECOULDCOUNTon one hand the number of church services she’d attended, outside of a few weddings and funerals. But on Sunday morning, with no plans for the day, she remembered Mary’s suggestion and walked across the motel’s icy lawn to the little white church next door.

It was a small, simple building—just a sanctuary and a wing of classrooms, and according to the signs, something called “Fellowship Hall” downstairs.

She walked into the sanctuary and was pleasantly surprised. Unlike the dark and gloomy churches she’d seen, this one was light and bright. There was a round stained-glass window up front, but the other windows were clear, offering views of the Chesapeake, the scudding clouds and blowing trees. Evergreens hung all around the sanctuary, the Christmassy fragrance mingling with the scent of candle wax. People greeted her and slid down the pew to make room.

The service was informal and easy to follow, the Christmas carols familiar, the sermon interesting and not too long. After the final blessing, as she started to collect her things, she realized that she’d never once felt out of place. And that, for a drug dealer’s girlfriend with a rough background, was unusual.

The organist played a quiet medley of Christmas hymns as people lingered in the aisles in little groups, chatting.

Reluctant to go back to her lonely motel room, Sylvie paused halfway to the exit to watch a group of kids running through the pews, most dressed in cute Christmas clothes. She was glad to see that Jax was among them; he just wore a blue sweater and jeans, not a Christmas outfit, but he was playing, interacting with the other kids. He did glance over toward his uncle often, probably reassuring himself that the man was still there. Understandable, given what he’d been through.

Jax saw her, stopped running, and stared. Was he remembering? Sylvie shrugged into her jacket and put up the hood, heart rate accelerating. When she glanced back at Jax, another kid had come up behind him, waving a chain of Christmas bells, and Jax laughed and ran off with him.

There was a buzzing sound behind her, and she turned to see a gray-haired woman riding a bright-red motorized scooter. “I’m glad you came to church, dear,” the woman said, reaching out a hand to clasp Sylvie’s. “You’re the new janitor at the Coastal Kids Academy, isn’t that right?”

“I am.” Sylvie inclined her head and pushed back her hood to better see the woman. “But...have we met?”

“No, and that’s why I hurried up here to catch you. I like to welcome visitors to our church. I’m Primrose Miller.” She held out a hand.

“Thank you, Ms. Miller.” She bent forward to shake the proffered hand. “I’m Sylvie. Sylvie Shaffer.”

“Well, we’re pleased to have you here, Sylvie. Did you hear the pastor mention the luncheon after services? Would you like to come?”

Around them, people were drifting off toward the back of the sanctuary. The organ music stopped, and a few people clapped.

“Oh, well...” Sylvie lifted a shoulder. “I heard the pastor mention it, but it’s potluck, right? And I didn’t bring anything.”

“That’s not a problem.” Primrose turned her scooter toward the back of the building. “The church provides the basics. People do bring sides and desserts, but it’s not a requirement. We always end up with way too much food.”

“Well...” Sylvie caught a whiff of ham cooking and her stomach growled. “It does smell good.”

“Come on,” Primrose urged, smiling at her. “You can sit with me and my friends.”

“All right. Thank you. You’re very kind.” Sylvie followed Primrose into the church’s hall and listened, amused, to the woman’s ongoing commentary on people they met. “That’s Erica and Trey Harrison. They adopted the baby your landlady’s daughter had—”

“Wait, Ria’s daughter Kaitlyn? But she’s so young!”

“No, Kaitlyn’s sister, Sophia. She’s off to college now, but she’s been very involved with the child. His name is Hunter.” Primrose nodded with satisfaction. “When I was young, girls who got pregnant were sent off, or kept hidden. Nowadays, it’s better. Why, everyone in town has a stake in that baby and his well-being. He’s got more people to love him than most other babies being raised by their natural families.”

“That is nice.” Sylvie knew plenty of young mothers who hadn’t had the benefit of marriage.

“And that’s Bisky Castleman,” Primrose said, nodding at a very tall, very pregnant woman. “She’s pretty old to be having a baby, if you ask me. But then again, no one does ask me.” She chuckled. “Anyway, I was the first to know, outside of her husband and daughter.”

The woman in question put an arm around a man even taller than she was. As she looked up at him, laughing at something he said, Sylvie’s heart twisted.

What would it be like to have a man everyone approved of, to be gossiped about just in a normal way, like Primrose was doing? To be pregnant at an older age, and to be happy about it?

“Bisky’s daughter, Sunny, is off in college.”

A woman about Primrose’s age glared at them. Why? What had they done?

But Primrose took it in stride. “Hello, Goody. No, I’m not gossiping, or not too much anyway. This is Sylvie, and the poor thing is staying at the motel, filling in for that janitor who left on a maternity leave. I’m just telling her who’s who.”

The woman named Goody gave Sylvie a sour smile, turned, and walked away.

“Don’t worry,” Primrose said, “Goody’s not friendly to anyone. But she runs the local ice cream parlor, and the milkshakes there are the best.” They reached the buffet table, laden with ham, scalloped potatoes, and multiple vegetable dishes. Plates of cake and pie were visible at the end of the line.

A pretty, artistic-looking brunette approached them. “Can I help you fill your plate, Primrose?” she asked, giving Sylvie a shy smile.

“Thank you kindly, Gemma. Beef or ham and whatever vegetables are left. I’m going low carb.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well...except for cake. I’ll have a tiny piece of cake. How’s Isaac?”

“We’re all doing well, Primrose. How are you? Who’s your friend?”

And Sylvie, busy filling her own plate, was introduced again. There was no way she’d remember everyone’s name. But it was kind of Primrose to take her under her wing.

As Sylvie followed Primrose toward a table, carrying both of their plates, Ria called to her. “Come sit with us, Sylvie!”

Sylvie couldn’t get over how friendly this community was. Or maybe it was just the fact that no one knew her and her disreputable history. “Thank you, but Primrose asked me to sit with her.”

“Go, go,” Primrose urged as she pulled her scooter up beside a table filled with women about her age. “Sit with the younger people. You’ll have more fun.”

“Well...” Sylvie felt at a loss. It was lovely to have people be so friendly, and she didn’t care, honestly, where she sat.

“I’ll send the pastor over to say hello.” Primrose winked and took her plate from Sylvie.

What was that all about?

“Over here.” Ria beckoned her to a table where the two women Sylvie had met in the bookstore—Julie, Ria’s mom, and Kaitlyn, her teenage daughter—were already sitting, along with Ria’s handsome husband, Drew. Sylvie was soon swept up in stories about the motel and the town and upcoming Christmas activities.

As they were digging into dessert—Sylvie had chosen pecan pie with real whipped cream, and it was fantastic—the pastor slid into the chair next to her and introduced himself as Steve. He was good-looking in an all-American way, with sandy hair and muscular shoulders and a nice smile. “I hear you’re new in town,” he said. “I’m glad you came to church.”

“I enjoyed the service.” Something made her want to joke with him. “Almost as much as this pie.”

He laughed. “If I can even come close to Julie White’s pecan pie, I’m doing the Lord’s work.”

“Did I hear my name?” The older woman at the table turned toward them.

“Your pie is fantastic,” Sylvie said, scraping the last bite from her plate.

“She says it’s better than my sermon,” the preacher said.

Julie patted Steve’s hand. “You just keep practicing, and one day, your sermons will be as good as my pie.” She turned back to her conversation with Ria and Kaitlyn.

The pastor’s eyes were warm and open and friendly as he asked Sylvie more questions, enough that she got a little spooked. Pleasant Shores’ friendliness was nice, but she needed to remember her real life and her purpose for being here. Not to mention Bobby’s orders about staying uninvolved. She kept her answers to his questions short and vague.

Finally, he stood. “I need to go mingle, but let me know if you’d like a visit, or you’re welcome to stop into the church office anytime.”

“Thank you.” She watched him leave and then turned to Ria. “Was that...why’d he ask if I’d like a visit? Is that what pastors here do, or was he hitting on me?”

Ria laughed. “I’m pretty sure he’d do that for anyone. He’s a real nice guy. Although...” She looked in the direction the pastor had gone. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

“He’s interested,” Kaitlyn said without looking up from her phone.

“Do you think so?” Sylvie asked, a little flattered. Nobody in Filmore would dare to flirt with Big Bobby’s girlfriend. “He is good-looking.”

“You should stop in and see him,” Ria urged. “He’s a nice man, and he’s really wise. If nothing else, he’d be a good friend or a spiritual mentor.”

Kaitlyn snorted.

“He would!” Ria said.

“That’s not what he’s after,” Kaitlyn said.

Julie swatted her granddaughter. “Everything’s not about love and romance, the way your generation thinks it is.”

“But love and romance are pretty important.” Drew put an arm around Ria and tugged her closer. “Right, sweetheart?”

“Drew! We’re in church!” But Ria was smiling. “What kind of impression will Sylvie get?”

“A good one,” Sylvie said. It was a cozy and fun feeling, being a part of this church and family group.

Then misgivings pushed in on her. It was too cozy. What would Big Bobby think?

She had to admit that her relationship with him hadn’t been right in a while. He’d sent her here to Pleasant Shores without a qualm, and she’d heard little from him. She knew he was spending time with his son but wondered who else was keeping him company.

The kicker was, even if he was seeing someone else, she didn’t feel too upset about that. Nor did she miss the man all that much. She was fond of him, and grateful, but the romance had definitely faded.

People were walking around now, going up to get seconds on dessert, talking with friends, or starting to clean up. She noticed Jax and Tony were seated at the end of a long table with another family. They seemed to be having a good time and settling in here, just as Sylvie was.

If anyone asked, if Big Bobby asked, she could just say she was keeping an eye on the two of them. Couldn’t she?

On the way out, she stopped to visit with Primrose.

“Did you talk with the pastor?” the older woman asked, eyes sharp and interested.

“I did,” Sylvie said slowly. “He was very...friendly.”

“Of course he was,” Primrose said. “The man is lonely, and you’re a pretty woman.”

Was she pretty? It had been a long time since anyone had told her so. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m observant,” Primrose corrected. “There’s a difference. Are you headed home?”

“I guess I am. How about you?”

“I am as well,” Primrose said. “I promised myself that I’d get to cleaning my kitchen. It’s disgraceful, but I have trouble finding the energy to work on it.”

“Would you like some company?” Sylvie asked impulsively. “I like to clean.”

Primrose looked startled. “You want to come over?”

Sylvie winced. “Sorry. I guess I invited myself.”

“No, I’m glad,” Primrose said as they moved toward the elevator. “I was just surprised. Especially since it’s cleaning we’re talking about.”

“I’d love to come,” Sylvie said. “I have nothing planned for this afternoon, and it’s gloomy to sit inside a motel room.”

“If you’re certain, then that would be lovely.” Primrose smiled. “Thank you, dear. I ride the church van, and you’re welcome to ride along.”

“Or I can take you in my car. It’s just over in the motel parking lot.”

“Even better, dear.”

They took the long way around to the parking lot because it was more accessible to Primrose’s scooter. “People think I’m too nosy and full of gossip, you see,” Primrose said, her voice bubbly. “For the most part, people don’t want to come visit me.”

Sylvie could see how folks would think that—Primrose did seem to know everyone’s business—but she shrugged. “You’ve just been nice to me, even though I’m a stranger. I appreciated the invitation to lunch.”

“You’re a sweet girl,” Primrose said.

As she helped Primrose into the car and then followed her instructions to fold up her mobility scooter, Sylvie reflected that, once again, she was doing exactly what Big Bobby had told her not to do: she was getting involved with the people of Pleasant Shores.

Not only that, but she was enjoying it. What would Bobby think?

ON SUNDAYAFTERNOON, Kayla looked around the outlet mall’s food court, crowded with Christmas shoppers. She finally saw Amber and Erica waving from a tiny table beside the windows.

Artificial evergreen garland, decorated with tinsel and red ribbons, hung from the ceiling, and signs on the walls proclaimed sales. The smell of fries and cinnamon buns and the sound of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” filled the air. Kayla wove through the family groups and finally plunked her tray on the table. “I see we’re all going healthy,” she said, laughing at Amber’s huge paper basket of onion rings and Erica’s pizza slices. Her own fast-food tacos smelled fantastic, and she dug in.

Beside them, a toddler whacked her baby brother with a plastic sword and then, scolded by her mother, burst into tears.

Some surrounding shoppers frowned at the shrill noise, but Amber and Erica grinned at each other. “You as glad as I am to get away from kids?” Amber asked her sister.

“Yep. I mean, Hunter’s only a year and a half, but it’s like he senses Christmas in the air. He doesn’t want to nap or go to bed. I think he’s afraid of missing something.”

“Davey’s wild,” Amber said.

“He’s on a constant sugar high,” Erica said, “because you won’t stop baking cookies.”

“Me and Hannah both.” Hannah was Amber’s college-age daughter, now home for Christmas vacation.

“How about the kids in your class, Kayla?” Erica asked. “Are they driving you up the wall yet?”

“Getting more excited every day.” Kayla dipped a tortilla chip in salsa. “And yesterday—” she lowered her voice, conscious of the little ones around her “—Pixie announced there’s no Santa Claus.”

“What?” Erica’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh, no!” Amber was laughing.

Kayla nodded. “I had to do major damage control, and I still got phone calls from parents.”

“Kids at that age are adorable,” Amber said, “but you couldn’t pay me to do your job.”

“I love it.” Kayla wiped salsa off her fingers. “The truth is, I wish I had kids at home to get away from. You’re both lucky.”

“You’re right,” Erica said quickly. “I’m glad for a break, but I’m grateful for Trey and Hunter every day.”

“Same, with Paul and Davey,” Amber said. “Speaking of families and romance and babies...how’s your goal coming along?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t—” Kayla began, and then sighed and didn’t bother finishing the thought. She didn’t know Erica as well as she knew Amber, but she doubted there was much point in trying to keep a secret between the sisters.

“Can’t we just tell Erica?” Amber asked. “Please?”

“Stop being that way,” Erica scolded. “Some people actually have a sense of privacy. You don’t have to tell me your secrets, Kayla.”

“It’s fine,” Kayla said. “She’s talking about my New Year’s resolution to kiss a man this year.” She took a big bite of taco.

“Aw, that’s...” Erica frowned. “Wait, why did that need to be a resolution?”

“Because she never did it before! Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Erica poked her sister’s arm with a pizza crust. “No, it’s not ridiculous! Just because you were kissing boys at twelve—”

“Eight,” Amber said. “Howard Goldbloom. Behind the bushes outside of the school.”

“See? That’s what’s ridiculous.” Erica turned to Kayla, who was laughing. “Did you have a particular reason to wait? Like a religious belief?”

“No, nothing like that.” The family at the next table had gotten their two kids calmed down, the mom holding the toddler while the father lifted the baby high, then swooped him down low, then lifted him again. “Actually,” she said, “it was Rufus Jones.”

“You did kiss a guy? I thought—”

“He tried to kiss me. But it really wasn’t about kissing. He just wanted to see my brace and show it to the other kids.” She explained about the scoliosis, surprising herself, because she rarely talked about it.

“Is that why you wear those baggy sweaters?” Amber asked. “Because of the brace?”

“No!” Kayla stared at her. “I haven’t worn it since I was sixteen.” Couldn’t people tell she didn’t wear a brace anymore?

Erica play-punched her sister on the arm. “Her sweaters are cute.”

“They are cute,” Amber said, rolling her eyes. “Davey loves them.”

Kayla looked down at herself. She was wearing a loose green sweater with a Christmas elf on it. “Are they bad?” she asked, stricken. “Tell the truth.”

“No!” Erica said firmly. “They’re adorable.”

Kayla thought back, frowning. “I did get in the habit of loose clothes when I wore my brace. Kinda my formative fashion years, you know? And then the kids love seasonal stuff.” She had a whole collection of autumn, Easter, and other holiday tops.

“There’s nothing wrong with them,” Amber said. “Not at all. It’s just that...they’re too big. You’ve got this amazing figure, and you never show it off.”

“Not flat like us.” Erica gestured down at herself. She was almost as thin as Amber was.

“It takes all kinds.” Kayla shrugged. “I’m a curvy girl. Always have been.” And she just didn’t think a whole lot about her figure.

But the sisters’ comments did make her think. Was she dressing wrong for her age and body? Was she stuck back in her teenage years, fashion-wise?

“You know,” Amber said to Erica, “we’re going lingerie shopping next, right?”

“Right.” Erica looked at Kayla. “We agreed to buy pretty lingerie for each other for Christmas. Since we both have scars to cover.”

“And husbands to impress,” Amber added. “That’s the main thing. Not the scars.”

The sisters’ eyes met and held for the briefest moment. Amber’s scars were from cancer surgeries, and she was open about that. Occasionally, she talked about her higher-than-usual risk of recurrence.

It sounded like Erica might have had surgeries, too, but Kayla didn’t want to be intrusive and ask.

She didn’t need to. “I had preventive surgery,” Erica explained. “I have one of those genes that makes reproductive cancers super likely.”

“We all do, or did,” Amber chimed in. “Me, Erica, and Mom.”

“And since both Mom and Amber got cancer,” Erica went on, “my doctors wanted me to go ahead and have a hysterectomy.” Her voice tightened a little at the end.

Amber put a hand over her sister’s. “Which was a wise decision,” she said. “I helped talk her into it, because I sure didn’t want her to go through what I went through.” She swallowed. “And I didn’t want to lose her like we lost Mom.”

“Oh, wow, I’m so sorry,” Kayla said, her heart aching for the sisters. “That all sounds really hard to cope with.”

“We’re lucky to have each other,” Erica said.

“Even if we drive each other crazy sometimes.” Amber stuck her tongue out at Erica, lightening the mood.

Their conversation got more general then, as they finished up their food and walked out into the mall. But Kayla couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d said.

Amber and Erica had gone through a terrible challenge and come out strong. They’d both found families.

So what was Kayla’s problem that she let one bad experience in middle school—not even that bad, either, not like a lot of women endured—keep her from finding happiness?

They stopped in front of a trendy store with improbably built mannequins dressed in bright red bras and tiny underwear and Santa hats.

“Come on, let’s get you some push-up bras!” Amber pulled Kayla inside. “That, and some V-necked sweaters, and the men will be lining up to kiss you!”

“Shh! I can’t!” Kayla protested weakly. She didn’t want to admit that she’d never even been inside a store like that.

“The sweaters don’t have to be tight,” Erica said. “Just...not baggy.”

“They can even have elves and reindeer on them, as long as they fit.” Amber flagged down a saleslady. “She needs a bra fitting. She’s buying like six new bras.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. She grabbed a tape measure and draped it around her neck. “Right this way,” she said.

Beckoned from ahead by the saleslady, and nudged from behind by Amber, Kayla went into the fitting room and learned she’d been wearing the wrong size bra for years, “like most women,” the lady assured her.

Amber had followed them into the fitting room area and was waiting outside the door. “What size?” she asked, and the saleslady told her before Kayla could protest.

Someone in the next cubicle called out a question, and the saleslady stepped out. “I won’t go far,” she promised Kayla before she walked away.

“Stay there,” Amber called as Kayla started to pull on her sweater. “Don’t get dressed.” She was soon back with an armload of bras the likes of which Kayla had never seen before.

Kayla tried on the plainest-looking one, white with a little lace, and studied herself in the mirror. Her face heated.

She used to play in front of the mirror as a little girl, like most kids. But once she’d gotten the brace, she’d avoided looking at herself.

Now...wow. The bra lifted everything up instead of flattening her down and it was...sort of impressive. Sort of too much, too.

She studied herself full-length. It was a body that wasn’t at all like those on TV or in magazines, and it was worlds away from the mannequins in the shop windows. But she definitely had cleavage, and hips, and a decently nipped-in waist.

She turned around and looked over her shoulder. That was the best part: her strong, straight back.

“Now, put this on and look at the difference,” Amber said. She tossed a novelty top over the transom. Kayla held it up and had to laugh; it said “Get Lit” and sported a flashing Christmas tree.

It was also two sizes smaller than Kayla’s usual.

“I can’t wear this,” she called out to Amber. “It’s too small, and it’s inappropriate.”

“Just try it on and show us. You don’t have to buy it.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you should be in sales?” But Kayla put on the sweater and studied herself in the mirror.

She frowned and turned sideways. She didn’t look half bad.

“How’s she doing?” Erica asked from her own fitting room.

“Let us see,” Amber said, and Kayla opened the door.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” Erica said, peeking out of her cubicle.

“See! You’re a knockout.” Amber smiled with satisfaction, and beckoned the sales clerk over. “She’ll take five of those bras, plus that sweater.”

“Whoa, slow down!” Kayla was laughing. “I’ll take two bras but not the sweater. Can’t wear a top that suggests drinking in front of the kids,” she added.

“They won’t get it,” Amber argued.

“But their parents will.” Kayla went back into the fitting room and changed into her regular clothes, which now felt frumpy. Maybe, if they hit a less risqué store, she would buy a couple of new, better-fitting sweaters for work.

The thought of Tony seeing her in more body-skimming clothes made her heart pound. Would he notice? Would he like how she looked?

She walked out of the cubicle to see Amber and Erica next to each other on a big round bolster in the waiting area, studying each other’s phones.

“See, Davey had such a good time making Christmas cookies with me and Hannah.” Amber smiled as she scrolled through photos, holding the phone so Erica could see it.

“That face!” Erica looked up and saw her. “Come look at Davey. He’s covered with frosting.”

Kayla looked and laughed, and then looked at photos of baby Hunter in several of his latest Christmas outfits, of which he apparently had many.

“Let’s go!” Amber said eventually. “We still have to shop for Crabby Christmas. You can get something sexy to wear to the cocktail hour,” she said to Kayla. “But this time, get your own date,” she added jokingly.

It had been at Crabby Christmas, last year, that Kayla had had her awful date with Paul, now Amber’s husband.

“Or you can come with me and Trey,” Erica said. “I’m definitely getting a new dress.”

“Thanks.” But all of a sudden, Kayla didn’t want to be a third wheel. And she didn’t want to be there with someone else’s boyfriend.

She wanted a real date to Crabby Christmas. And not just any real date, she realized as she paid for her new bras. She wanted her date to be Tony.

Which probably meant she’d have to ask him. But could she possibly muster up the courage?