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After I told her I had found a place, her pettiness reared its ugly head. Not only did she tell us nothing would be leaving the home that she purchased, but since I would no longer be living under her roof, she said I’d be responsible for making the car and insurance payments. I could’ve argued, but it would’ve been a waste. I really need a vehicle, so I was just thankful that she let me take it at all. I know this was her way of punishing me, hoping I would break and ask to stay, but that didn’t happen.
Instead, I packed Jordan’s and my things and loaded the vehicle. It was a little over an hour’s drive. I worried I’d made the wrong decision the entire way, but as we passed the town sign that read: Welcome to Christmas Valley—Population: 6,494, I couldn’t help but feel like this was a fresh start for both of us.
“And this is the master bedroom,” Gertrude says when we enter the room. It’s painted a soft gray and furnished with a whitewash wood queen-sized bed, two matching bedside tables on either side, and a dresser with a mirror facing the bed.
“It’s wonderful. Do you know when the furniture will be removed?” I noticed the living room and dining room furniture is still there, but it didn’t click until I saw her bedroom furniture. I don’t have the money to buy us bedroom sets, but I plan to get both of us a bed and a dresser from a second-hand store.
“It’s staying,” she says, shocking me. “When you mentioned not having any furniture and having to find some once you moved in, I figured you could use it. The place I’m moving to is furnished. I was just going to donate all of this.” She waves her hand in the air like it’s no big deal, and my heart swells at her thoughtfulness. She has no idea what this means to me. How much money it will save me. I hate the thought of owing anyone anything, but…
“Are you sure?” I choke out, trying not to cry in front of this woman. She might think I’ve lost my mind and rescind her offer. And there’s no way I’ll find anywhere else to rent for this cheap.
“Yes, my dear,” she says sweetly. “If there’s anything you don’t want, you can donate it.”
“Mommy, come see my room!” Jordan yells.
I cross the hall to her room and find her on the bed, bouncing on her knees.
“Did you buy this?” I ask Gertrude as I take in the beautiful white wicker bed with pink and white polka-dotted bedding—with matching curtains. There’s no way this was the bedding she had in here. This is bedding only a little girl would pick out.
“I’m taking my bedding with me.” She shrugs. “Didn’t want your little girl to not have sheets. It was on sale.”
“Gertrude,” I breathe, unable to hold back my tears. “This is all too much.”
“Nonsense,” she says. “Consider it a housewarming gift.” She pats my arm affectionately. “When my William and I started out, we had nothing. But our family and friends came together and helped us make it a home. Now it’s my turn to do the same. I hope you create as many wonderful memories here as William and I did.”
Wetness fills her eyes, and I pull her into a hug.
“Thank you. This home will be filled with love.”
“Oh, I know it will, dear. I can already feel it.”
After showing us the rest of the home, we go over the electricity and utilities, and then Gertrude takes off, leaving Jordan and me to our new home.
“I love it here, Mommy,” Jordan says, staring out the window.
“I do, too, Ladybug.”
“Can we go for a walk?” she asks. “Maybe we’ll see Santa or his elves.”
“Sure,” I tell her, loving that she’s excited for the next chapter in our book. And who knows? The town is named Christmas Valley. Maybe we will find Santa… or his elves.
CHAPTER TWO
KELSIE
Two Months Later
“Ma’am, your card has been declined.”
Shit. I clear my throat and paste on a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment. In my rush to get the groceries and get home to make dinner, I forgot to double-check my bank account.
“How much is it?” I ask, not wanting to hold up the line. I have cash from my tips, and I can just pay with—
“Forty-one dollars and thirty-two cents.”
Whoa, okay, there’s no way I have that much cash. I glance at the line of people behind me and quickly count my cash. Twenty-six dollars. Shit.
I glance at the items, trying to figure out what’s not a necessity.
“Can you put back the cake mix and icing, please?”
“Mommy, no,” Jordan whines. “That’s supposed to be—”
“Jordan, not now,” I hiss, feeling everyone’s eyes on us.
