Love for the Holidays Box Set

And Good Will To All-7

“Jenna, you remember Lonnie McDaniel?”

She’d just arrived, and I was getting ready to take Mack home with me.

Her eyes sparkled as she shook his hand. “You bet I do. Nice to have you back in town, Lonnie.” She graced him with a beautiful smile. “Do you know how long you’ll be staying?”

He looked uncomfortable, so I answered, “Leave the man be, Jenna. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Text me if there are any issues, but I don’t expect anything.”

“Don’t you worry about me. You two need to get reacquainted. It’s been too long.” She winked at me and shooed us on our way.

I placed my hand at the small of his back to urge Mack gently toward the door. “See you in a while,” I said over my shoulder. We walked around the corner to our cars. “You need to get anything from the storage unit?” I asked as I unlocked the doors of my SUV.

“No. Got what I need in this bag.” He lifted an old knapsack.

“Cool. Go get in your car and follow me.”

I watched in the rearview mirror as he climbed into the Honda, then I started up the engine and led the way to my place. The thirty-minute drive was usually done in silence, but my mind was restless. I was still recovering from the revelation of Lonnie’s homelessness. I turned the radio on, managing to find a classical station. At least it wasn’t Christmas music. That stuff drove me insane most days.

Twenty-five miles later, I turned right onto a dirt road that led to my two-story home. An old barn stood off to the side, slowly crumbling due to disrepair. I would probably tear it down eventually. I parked in front of the house, and Mack pulled up behind me. I got out and gestured to him.

“Come on.”

After checking to see that he followed, I let us into my abode of many years and quickly guided him upstairs to one of the spare rooms he would be using. I turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

“This is your room for as long as you want it, Mack. Bathroom is down the hall to the left, towel closet beside it. Washing machine and dryer are next to the kitchen downstairs.” I pointed out the space heater underneath the window. “That’ll keep you plenty warm.”

He placed his bag on the floor near the bed and slowly straightened. “Thanks, Charlie, for this. I’ll pay you back, I swear it.”

“You’ll insult me if you do. Just take it for what it’s worth and enjoy it in the spirit intended, okay? Take the time to get back on your feet. Now, if you need clothes or underwear, it looks like we’re both about the same size, so help yourself. My room is down the hall to the right. Clothes in the closet, underwear and sleepwear in the dresser.”

I walked to the door. “You’re probably tired to hell, but I didn’t eat breakfast before I came to get you, so I’m gonna make something quick. You hungry? You like waffles?” He nodded. “Okay. Why don’t you clean up and I’ll have food ready in a jiffy.” With that, I went downstairs to get our meal ready.

Fifteen minutes later, Mack came into the kitchen, hair slicked back. He wore old sweats, a pullover, and thick socks—all mine, I noticed. He looked good in them. Too good, actually, since I almost dropped the butter tray.

I cleared my throat. “Have a seat.”

He sat and waited as I filled his plate with waffles. I had maple syrup, butter, and different types of jam for him to choose from. He thanked me as I joined him at the table. Once I picked up my fork, that was his cue to start eating. His waffles were gone in what seemed like seconds. Only a third of the way through my stack, I got up to make more, chewing on my food while I did so. I wasn’t as hungry as he obviously was, and I hadn’t any idea when was the last time he’d had a good, square meal, aside from junk food.

Three plates of waffles later, along with seconds on coffee and orange juice, and Mack was finally done. A burp announced that he’d enjoyed it.

I smiled. “You’re welcome.”

He blushed a little and looked down at his plate, embarrassed. Now that he was fed, I felt I could safely pursue a line of questioning—at least, I hoped he’d let me, this time.

“What happened, Mack?”

His shoulders slumped. I waited while he got his thoughts together and gathered what was left of his pride around him.

While staring out the window, he replied. “I’ve been living out of my car for a while now. Managed to get a few odd jobs, for cash, when I could, to keep things going. Worst time is winter. Every town I end up in, I always find a truck stop since I know I can at least get a shower there and find a spot to park my car so I can sleep without drawing too much attention to myself.”

Jesus. “How long?” I asked.

“A couple years.”

“You get laid off or something?”

“It was a little more complicated than that. See, the company I worked for at the time—I was the operations manager—they were doing some underhand deals. When I found out, I threatened them, but, instead, they got rid of me. I tried to fight it, but their lawyers were too good. I ended up almost broke trying to win my case. I thought I could find a job anywhere with my experience, but the company badmouthed me all over the place. It was no use, and I left town, tail between my legs. I’ve gotten real good at being invisible when necessary. I use prepaid cell phones and I’ve learned to live on little. All I have left to my name is what’s in my beat-up car and that storage unit.”

“And the Wisconsin address on your driver’s license?”

“That was my last place of residence.”

I was horrified at the inhumanity of all he’d been through, but I knew he wouldn’t appreciate the expression of it, so I simply said, “Sounds like you did what you had to.” I rested my elbows on the table. “So why come back here? After all this time?”

“It was on the way to…well, it doesn’t really matter now. I guess I wanted to see what things were like after all these years.”

“So…what do you think?”

“I’ll admit that, when I came back here and saw you, I had a knee-jerk reaction. But after all the things I’ve seen and experienced…I’d like to say that I’m more appreciative of what a small, close-knit—if nosy—community that cares about its residents has to offer. At least, I hope I am. I’m tired of moving around all the time, and I guess this is as good a place as any to stay for a while.” Fair enough.

Out of curiosity, I asked, “So, was there anyone special in your life before that s**t storm you went through?”

Mack shrugged. “No one steady. I don’t know that I’m relationship material, or even friend material any way. I can barely take care of myself. I mean, look at me now.”

I was looking—real hard, too—and I wanted to take him in my arms and never let him go.

Instead, I said, “I think you’re being too hard on yourself, Mack. You’re a survivor, and you should be proud of that. Anyone would be honored to have you as a friend. No one will think less of you because of the difficulties you’ve been through—least of all me.” I cleared my throat and got up from the table. “Time for work. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll do them later.”

“Wait,” he said before I left the kitchen. “Does this mean you consider me…a friend again?” He watched me with an undecipherable expression.

I smiled. “Always, Mack. You will always have my friendship.”

I would give you my heart, too, if you wanted it.

“You get some rest, and I’ll see you this evening.” I ran out of that kitchen so I wouldn’t do something stupid like kiss him senseless.

* * * *

When I got back to the office, Jenna asked me about Mack. “Everything all right with Lonnie? He looked a bit worn down…like he’d seen too much of the world and just wanted to get away from it all.”

“It’s not my story to tell, hon.” I switched gears. “You and Jerome having your annual Christmas Eve shindig?”

She took the bait. Jenna loved throwing parties. “You betcha! Do you think Lonnie would come?”

“Well, I could give him time off if he wanted to go. I’ll ask him.”

“What about you, Charles? All you ever do is work. You’ve never taken a Christmas off since I started working here. Why don’t you call Cecil? He used to own the place, after all. You’ve done it before, at least once. Then you and Lonnie can come together.”

“The last time I called him, my uncle had to be rushed to the emergency room.” Uncle Torren had raised me since I was eleven years old. He passed away that night.

She looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Charles. I forgot about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the invitation, okay? I’ll let you know.”