The Unplanned Christmas Family
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Angie Dicken
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Chapter One
Natalie slammed on the brakes, a reckless reaction to her tires slipping on the slick, snowy patch. What was she thinking? She’d driven on Iowa roads since she was fourteen years old—her debut behind the wheel with Dad gently guiding her through the Jim’s Grocery parking lot. Now, she was clutching the steering wheel tightly and frantically pumping her brakes to correct her initial pedal to the floor. Her sedan ground to a halt, just before hitting the retirement center’s yard sign for their annual Christmas Festival—exactly one month away. Yikes. Natalie rolled her eyes. Even in a near accident she was paying attention to details.
“Natalie, are you there?” Her best friend, Lindsey, spoke through her car speakers.
“Barely.” She swiped loose curls away from her eyes and turned up the speaker volume. “Sorry, didn’t hear what you said, Lindsey.”
“It’s no biggie. Is everything okay?”
Natalie pressed her back in the seat and tried to catch her breath. “Be glad I am speaking right now. You may have been having a conversation with sirens had my sanity not kicked in last minute.”
“What? What happened? I was worried about you heading home in this mess.” A flurry of children’s voices sounded in the background. “I-20 is an ice rink.”
“I just pulled into my grandmother’s retirement community. We’re having Thanksgiving dinner with her and fifty of her closest friends.” Natalie smiled. She couldn’t wait to hug Gigi and the knitting club ladies. “I, uh, I need to get out of this car...and get rid of the boxes from the Matthews wedding. They are taunting me from the back seat, distracting me with regrets from our last event of the year.”
Lindsey gasped. “The wedding was a huge success! You are far too hard on yourself, Natalie. Exactly why you need a break. A good ole-fashioned Christmas break.”
“I never thought I would pass up a trip to Arizona with my parents during an Iowa winter. But honestly, the fact that I was so lost in thought about how I could’ve made our last event even better that my winter driving skills escaped me, I am pretty sure cozying up at home for a few weeks is absolutely necessary.” Natalie craved the downtime alone. Being a sought-after event planner and having just spent a month in Texas with a very high-maintenance bride, a wintry stay at home was the very best Christmas plan right now. Even if her parents were leaving for sunny Scottsdale tomorrow, Natalie didn’t mind pet-sitting her favorite golden retriever, Lex, and joining Gigi for a weekly cribbage game or two.
“I just called to say Happy Thanksgiving.” Lindsey then whispered something to someone who sounded about knee-high.
“Happy Thanksgiving. Let me know if anything comes up.”
“Nope, won’t do that.” Lindsey snickered. “We agreed, no shop talk till January. Right?”
“Right.” Natalie moved her rearview mirror to get those leftover boxes of wedding favors out of her view. She meant to drop them off at her storage unit but was anxious to get home when she got to town. “No more planning anything but cocoa, a fire and scheduled naptime.”
“Sounds divine. If my nephews continue to require my undivided attention, I might sneak away and join you.”
“My apartment is open for the taking.” Natalie smiled to herself. Her staycation officially started this morning when she moved her toiletries to her parents’ guest bathroom—about twenty yards from her garage apartment on the other side of their driveway. She’d hardly been home this past fall—staying at extended-stay hotels while fully investing in three brides, a corporate awards banquet and the most amazing Cystic Fibrosis Gala, raising money for the foundation to continue its lifesaving work. Natalie should be completely satisfied. Their little event planning company had plenty of financial cushion for a restful winter. But that tweak in her chest reminded her that taking a break didn’t happen quite so easily. She must rest, though. Her new high blood pressure diagnosis was a wake-up call, especially since her late grandfather suffered from a heart attack brought on by years of a high stress career.
After saying goodbye to Lindsey, Natalie took some calming breaths just like her therapist had advised. But on the fifth breath, a knock on her window startled the calm right back out of her.
“Excuse me?”
All Natalie could make out on the other side of the frosty glass was a winter coat with a plaid scarf tucked beneath faux fur lining.
The person knocked again. “Hey, you’re in an accessible space.”
Natalie rolled her window down and looked up. A guy around her age with a five-o’clock shadow, narrowing eyes and a plastered-on smile that may have undertones of passive-aggressiveness stared down out her.
“Sorry, I kinda slid in here. That sign was a near-casualty.” Natalie nervously giggled—more like a bride with cold feet than the even-keeled event planner she had become.
“Glad you’re safe,” he said, sounding as though he felt obligated to, before continuing, “But do you mind moving soon? We are expecting a full house.”
The familiar I-have-a-whole-event-on-my-shoulders tone seemed to set the guy’s jaw to working.
“Of course. If you don’t mind stepping back, I can’t guarantee that my slippy wheels won’t roll right over your—” She looked down. He was wearing snow boots along with coveralls. Must be the maintenance guy. She should tell him to consider salting the parking lot a little more. Slipping and sliding was hardly a Thanksgiving welcome. Instead, Natalie rolled up her window, carefully backed out and found a space near her parents’ truck. She grabbed her purse and crammed her knit hat over her curly brown hair. Using the rearview mirror to check her lip gloss, she spied those pesky boxes in her back seat again, and forced herself to look away.
“Well, at least I stopped thinking about work for a hot minute, even if it was because of cute Mr. Grumpy Pants.” She blushed at her terminology. She was not a teen describing a boy across the classroom. Just because that maintenance guy definitely was handsome didn’t mean her hot minute had anything to do with him. It had everything to do with getting lost in thoughts about event planning and not paying attention to her driving.
Besides, the male prospects in Rapid Falls were the last thing Natalie wanted to think about. Her life was busy enough—exactly why she hadn’t dated much. After she had worked so hard to get where she was, most relationships fizzled with her inattention to the guy and her devotion to her next event. And when it hadn’t, she’d almost risked everything. She couldn’t exchange this dream she was living for only a potential fairy-tale life of romance. Natalie stepped onto a cleared patch of pavement and carefully walked down the sidewalk to the front doors of Rapid Falls Retirement Center, breathing in the scent of exhaust, clean winter air and—cologne?
She turned around. The maintenance guy was right behind her.
“Let me get that for you.” He whisked by and held open the door. “Happy Thanksgiving.” Ah, now the parking police had become the welcome committee.
“Happy Thanksgiving to you.” He offered a genuine smile now. Natalie cleared her throat and said, “You might want to salt that particular area of the parking lot, though. It’s slippery.”
His smile remained on his lips but fell away from his eyes. “Once you head inside, that’s my plan.” And he shifted his weight and opened and closed his gloved fingers around the door handle. If Natalie lingered any longer, she imagined his waterproof boots would start tapping against the brick porch.
She weakly smiled and stepped into the warm lobby. The guy faded into the wintry background, while the ambers, golds and browns of harvest decor wrapped her in an inviting hug. The bustling dining room entrance was framed with raffia garland and orange-and-white-checkered bows. Her parents were taking their seats with Gigi at a round table closest to the entrance. They had left a few minutes before Natalie while she finished unpacking from her recent trip down south.
Natalie shook off her coat as she approached them. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
Gigi tilted her head and smiled. “My girl is home for a while. So very glad.” She rose from her seat and held open her arms. Natalie embraced the woman who smelled of the familiar expensive perfume—Gigi’s signature scent that hinted to her personality—rich and flowery but heart-deep warmth.
“I am so glad to be home.” Natalie sighed as she sat between Mom and Gigi, and they both took turns giving her a hug.
Gigi primped silver hair that framed her heart-shaped face. “Oh, here come the gals.”
In one bubbling gaggle, Gigi’s knitting club ladies moved across the dining room and filled in the rest of the seats around the table. Exclamatory greetings popcorned from each, but Susie Fredrickson bypassed her own seat and came over and squeezed Natalie.
“It’s so good to see you again.” Susie’s voice was soft and squishy, like her hug. “Girls, you should have seen the Cystic Fibrosis Gala this lady planned.”
“Susie has raved about your event, Natalie.” Gigi patted her friend’s arm. “Exactly why we know Natty will do great things around here, too.”
Natalie gave Gigi a second glance. What did she mean? If winning a few cribbage games and making a mean cup of hot chocolate, then sure, she’d do great things around here. She took off her hat and primped her own hair.
Susie continued to speak as she crossed over to her seat. “It was an absolute dream night—especially for those CF superheroes. I still can’t get over the stories—that Tate Behrens from Polk Center just stuck with me. He’s not letting CF keep him from living life to the fullest.”
One of the other ladies from the knitting club teased, “I think that boy is a local celebrity in Rapid Falls after the umpteenth time Susie’s told his story.” Everyone laughed.
Susie remarked, “One day, I won’t just be on the retirement community board, but I’ll make this place home, too, and you’ll get to hear my stories at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Just you wait.” She winked at Natalie. Susie was a longtime schoolteacher and had been a dear mentor to Natalie over the years. At first, with dyslexia tutoring at the end of middle school, and then, inspiring Natalie to reach for the stars through high school. If it wasn’t for Susie... Natalie shuddered to consider how she may have never had the courage to start her own business with Lindsey. Not with her learning disability wreaking havoc on her self-esteem during those earlier years.
While everyone filled Natalie in on the news around Rapid Falls, she tried to focus on the cheery conversation. She was home, and she didn’t have one client vying for her attention. All events had been wrapped in a neat bow of accomplishment, even if she had a tendency of recalling imperfections after the fact. Also, that small, annoying voice in the back of Natalie’s mind distracted her too much. What if you lose too much steam?
The battle was real. She’d given so much of herself to her work, she wasn’t sure who she was without it. Maybe Lindsey should move here to keep her in vacation mode.
Feedback from a microphone caused everyone to wince, and conversations around the room quieted. A familiar man in a suit and tie stood at the mic by the buffet table decked out with several cornucopias among platters of food.
“Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.” The man’s genuine greeting caused a ripple of happy responses in return. Natalie realized he was the parking attendant. No coveralls and boots, but slimming gray slacks and a fitted sweater over a collared shirt. A charming transformation. Natalie leaned over to question who this parking-lot-attendant-turned-speaker was, when instead of Gigi, the guy said, “I am Thad MacDougall, the center’s director. I’ve only been here for a few months, but the kindness and welcome I’ve received in Rapid Falls has quickly made this town feel like home. I personally have so much to be thankful for.” He offered that dashing smile that Natalie previewed at the door—before her unsolicited advice killed the moment. “I’d like to say grace over this amazing spread.”
Everyone bowed their heads. Thad said an eloquent prayer filled with gratitude and faith. Amens filled the room, then tables were released to the buffet.
While their table waited, the knitting club’s most vocal member, Tina Delaney, leaned forward, crushing her festive place setting with her faux suede vest. “Quite a catch, huh?” Her piercing eyes danced with matchmaking mischief.
Natalie slid a glance at Mom and Dad. They both gave her an apologetic look, as was often their response when Gigi’s friends tried to suggest the perfect guy for Natalie. Even if Rapid Falls was a small town, it seemed that single men found their way here on occasion. Over the years, there had only been a handful of attempts, but still, Natalie figured out the perfect response: “My dance card is full. The last date has promise.”
And even if it had been several months since her last date, the ladies didn’t need to know. They usually backed off a bit, satisfied that at least Natalie was doing the good work of making a match herself. Honestly, her heart wasn’t in it at this point in her life. The last guy had proved to be a threat to all she held dear as an entrepreneur. But, of course, she’d never explain that to these lovely ladies.
Tina’s eyes flashed, her gaze shifted above Natalie’s head and, for the first time, she refuted Natalie’s excuse. “You’re not married yet. Option debonair heading your way.”
Natalie looked over her shoulder. Thad MacDougall walked up, placing a hand on Gigi’s shoulder and greeting the ladies, who were leaning much closer to the table’s center than before. Gone was Gigi’s pretty perfume. Now all Natalie could smell was cedar and mint and handsome. When Thad looked at her, he hesitated before saying, “You’re Fran’s granddaughter?”
Natalie nodded and smiled. And you are just a pawn in the knitting club’s favorite yarnless pastime. Back away, Thad, just back away.
Thad wasn’t one to pass judgment on strangers. After all, he had struggled with being misjudged the last couple of years by his ex-wife. But as Tina, Susie and Fran doted on Natalie, he returned a tight smile. All he could think about was the many emails that this supposed renowned event planner in the greater part of the Midwest had ignored.
Not one response as he managed the Christmas Festival planning committee—a task he had no desire taking on these first few months of adjusting to a new town, job and shared custody of his nine-year-old son, Brody. But if there was one thing he could say about Rapid Falls—and especially its beloved retirement center—is that they loved their community events, and the Christmas Festival was an unspoken responsibility of the retirement community director.
Fran clapped her hands and said to Natalie, “Now you two have met face-to-face, isn’t that nice?”
Natalie gave a confused smile and nod. Did she not realize who he was? He had introduced himself in at least one of the emails, and followed up with a reminder of who he was in the next couple.
A dinner volunteer dismissed the table to the buffet line.
Fran held out a hand for help, and as Thad moved to assist, Natalie’s hand grabbed his accidentally. She flicked her curly auburn hair from her shoulder as she popped up from her chair, dropped her hand and exclaimed, “I was going to help my grandmother. Promise.” A deep dimple appeared in her rosy cheek and her blue eyes sparkled with apology.
Thad stepped back, ignoring the warmth of her slender fingers wrapping around his palm. “Of course,” he confirmed. “And I was going to help her, too. She’s one of the lovely ladies who’ve made this a smooth transition for me.”
“Isn’t he such a gentleman.” Fran gleamed up at Thad while speaking to her granddaughter.
“And a jack-of-all-trades, I take it.” Natalie tucked her grandmother’s arm in hers as they scooted past. “Parking lot attendant, greeter and director—”
“Don’t forget, Christmas Festival manager.” Thad shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing around at the bustling room shrouded by a harvest decor explosion. But he didn’t miss the opportunity to examine Natalie’s reaction to his words.
She didn’t flinch at the mention. “You have a lot on your plate, it sounds like.” Natalie sighed in empathy. Fran was distracted by conversation with the other ladies, not appearing miffed at all that her granddaughter wasn’t helping with the supposed festival plans, either.
Heat crept around Thad’s starched collar—had Natalie even told Fran that she wasn’t going to be part of this year’s festival? If he recalled correctly, a month ago, Fran had been over the moon the day she gave him Natalie’s email. What was it she said before slipping him a folded paper with a handwritten email address?
“Natalie is one of few young people who treasure this place as much as the residents. Finally slowing down for the holidays, she’s all in to help.”
All in.
Hmph. Before Thad could breathe in a better attitude along with the buttery aroma of fresh rolls mixed with rosemary, thyme and all the goodness of a Thanksgiving spread, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He stepped away from the dining room and answered.
“Hey, bud. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“I have a stomachache,” Brody mumbled.
“Too much pie?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just stay here.”
Thad clenched his teeth and ignored the heaviness in his heart. He cleared his throat and forced a playful tone. “What? And miss out on watching football together?”
“I can just watch it here.” Brody’s tendency to try and back out of plans was exactly why Thad moved close by.
“I’ll tell you what, just come over and if you don’t feel good, I can take care of you. I have a whole liter of ginger ale with your name on it.”
A long pause followed. Finally, Brody said, “Okay.”
“See you at seven. Mom’s bringing you to the center, right?”
“Mom, are you bringing me to the center?” Thad could hear Maxine affirm in the background.
“Great. Love you, bud.”
Thad ended the call. He wanted his son to depend on him in all aspects of his life—not just the occasional fun outing. And especially when he didn’t feel well. A child should want their parent at that time. However, during the two years of working on his MBA and job hunting after, Thad hadn’t been that type of caregiver. How could he have been? He had worked late, then studied even later. Life had been chaos back then. Brody was barely talking when Thad started his master’s program, and by the time Thad had landed his first job after, kindergarten for his son was over—a bittersweet season of professional accomplishment with a marriage dissolved by his wife’s emotional attachment to another guy who had been there for her during Thad’s program. He couldn’t blame her. And he really couldn’t expect Brody to latch on to him now that Thad had moved to a new town.
But even his ex, Maxine, looked forward to having Thad nearby while she and her new husband traveled quite a bit. Thad’s gut twisted when Brody didn’t seem easily attached to Thad—the father who was distant mentally for a couple of years, and then living two hours away that first year after the divorce.
“Everything okay, Thad?” The spritely Susie Fredrickson, volunteer activity coordinator, stood at the dining room entrance holding her plate of turkey, stuffing, corn casserole and green beans. “You look...conflicted.”
“Brody is trying to back out of our plans together.” He sighed. Susie had been his first acquaintance in Rapid Falls. She was a board member and on the hiring team when Thad interviewed and showed him around town when he first arrived. She had a way with kids, and although Brody appeared shy when Thad first brought him to the retirement community’s center, Susie had his son refusing to leave until they finished a mean game of Go Fish.
Susie tilted her head and raised her brows above fashionable glasses. “Holidays are especially hard on kids when change is involved. Don’t worry. Just keep being your amazing self.” She winked. He smiled and followed her into the dining room again.
“Hey, Susie?”
She set her plate down and looked over at him.
The brief conversation with Brody awakened his usual unease about his commitment to work. Another reason he was annoyed with Natalie’s unresponsiveness. He wasn’t going to spend his time planning an event if it took time away from mending his relationship with his son, especially during Christmas. He drew closer to the table between them and said, “Has Fran mentioned anything about Nat—”
“What’s that, dear?” Fran walked up behind him. He pulled her chair out for her and tried to reframe his inquiry since Natalie returned to her seat, as well.
Thad stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. While everyone filled in the table, he crouched down for a conversation with just the two women, steadying himself with a hand on Fran’s chair back. “I just wanted to chat about the Christmas Festival.”
Fran gave him her full attention, but Natalie was digging into her mashed potatoes. Thad’s stomach growled as Fran replied, “Oh, yes. It’s quite a feat, but I trust that it will be a success with the two of you in the same town now.”
Natalie continued eating.
Thad wasn’t sure what was going on. Was her granddaughter so famished that she didn’t want to converse right now?
“With an event like this, it’s ideal for planning to start a couple months out, at least,” Thad grumbled. “Especially now that the save-the-dates have been mailed.”
“Ah, yes. Have you all made lot of headway?” Fran craned her head to catch her granddaughter’s eye.
“What’s that?” Natalie wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“Thad was just talking about plans for the Christmas Festival.” Fran smiled wide. “Natalie’s been to so many, you all are no doubt close to having it all planned out.”
Natalie furrowed her brow, tossing a confused look between Fran and Thad. “Who? Me? I haven’t thought about the Christmas Festival until I nearly ran into the sign out in the parking lot.” Her laugh faded quickly as she seemed to notice the somber look that Thad managed instead of a scowl. “Um, it’s December twenty-third, right?”
Fran chuckled and swatted at Natalie’s arm. “Oh, dear, you are a hoot. You younger kids have ‘just kidding’ down to an art.”
“Gigi, what are you talking about?”
“You’re helping with the planning, dear. Don’t be silly.”
Natalie’s eyes rounded, she turned toward her mother on the other side of her—as if seeking clarification, but her mom wasn’t paying attention—and then back at Fran, this time pulling her legs from under the table to face Fran straight on.
“I never agreed to plan anything, Gigi,” Natalie near-whispered.
“You could have replied to one of my emails and clued me in.” Thad shouldn’t have allowed that snark to slip out. But he’d felt pretty slighted this past month, and with all the pressure for work-life balance, his nerves were about to snap like a wishbone.
“Emails?” Natalie seemed completely unaware—as if he was speaking a different language.
Thad exhaled an “Oh, boy,” and stood up. “So, you never received my emails about planning the dinner and pageant?”
Fran shook her head and gave an audible guffaw. “Now, Natalie, when you called for my birthday back in October, we squared it all away. You’d be home for a while, and I said the festival needed your expertise. You agreed.”
“And I’d sent you about four emails since then,” Thad added. “You are a supposed planning guru, and by your permission, according to Fran, I assigned you as head coordinator.”
Natalie crossed her legs, her brown boot kicking at the white tablecloth. She pressed a finger to her temple and closed her eyes tight, her lips tighter. “Gigi, I agreed that I would be happy to help with the festival, while I am in town.” Her eyes popped open and pure shock hardened every feature. “But to plan it?” Her voice went up an octave or two. “I am sorry, I just can’t.”
Discomfort from this awkward confrontation wrapped around Thad’s shoulders as tight as his hunger pangs from smelling, seeing but not tasting the Thanksgiving feast. The two women seemed utterly confused with hurt crossing each of their faces. But he still wasn’t sure how Natalie could have been so oblivious when he had communicated succinctly. “Do you not check your email?” he blurted.
Natalie turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I am a professional. Of course I check my email.”
“And you get the weekly newsletter from the retirement center, right? I saw your name on the subscriber list.”
Natalie nodded. “And did you use my email from that list?”
Thad began to nod, but then froze. “Well, I guess I used the email Fran wrote down. I wasn’t at my computer so...” He pulled out his phone and opened his email app. “Your email is Natalie underscore Cooper at—”
“Dash,” Natalie said.
“What?”
“Natalie dash Cooper.” Her brow rose in apology. “You got the wrong email address. I had no idea you were trying to reach me. Hopefully you’ve moved ahead without me.”
Thad hadn’t really. He’d gotten some local businesses to commit to the silent auction, had his secretary mail out updated save-the-dates using last year’s document, and he’d set up a meeting with a local caterer. But that was it.
Thad MacDougall was by no means a planner. He was a single father with the weight of his son’s distance on his heart and a slightly soured appetite for Thanksgiving dinner. He seemed to be responsible for the success of the retirement community’s favorite festival all on his own.
