Yuletide Bride Read online

  Mary looked up.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You just did,” Layla smiled.

  “You see, I don’t want to offend you at all, Mrs. Jameson, but I have to ask. You two are my very last interview, you see? I need to know how long you’ve known that the “Magic of Christmas Festival” is a sham?”

  The mayor actually gasped and Layla looked over at him and then back at Mary calmly. “For years.”

  It was the first honest answer Mary had gotten out of any of the couples. The mayor looked fit to be tied. “How long have you known, Miss. Simms?”

  “I, uh…”

  “Stuttering doesn’t become you, dear. Besides, I had a feeling one day someone would figure it out. Now, it’s what you do with the information that concerns me.”

  “Well, I…”

  “Please, Miss Simms, are you shocked that I could be so forthright about it? I already had an inclination that you knew. You see, I talked to Christine.”

  Mary looked up and felt the light bulb go on. “Christine said something?”

  “Well, you do know so much already, why not let you in on something. We have a planning committee every year. Only one half of the couple comes to the meeting, seeing as the other half has no idea.”

  “I knew it!” Mary said excitedly, smiling. “But why claim it’s magic?”

  “Why not? You have no idea what this time-honored festival means to our town, and besides, it is great revenue for the businesses and the districts. Also, it brings new faces to Noel.”

  “So, this is all about money?”

  “No, you misunderstand me, Miss Simms. This festival, as you know has been around for some time now. If we go around telling everyone the secrets of the festival, then it wouldn’t exactly be a magical time of year, now would it?”

  “So, how does it all work?”

  “Well, we watch people, you see? As a committee, we nominate people that we notice in town that are perfect for one another.”

  “So, in other words, you play God?”

  “Oh, no…not God. With God you have free will. We are more like a human-cupid match-making kind of festival. And we are quite good at it, as you’ve noticed.”

  “No kidding,” Mary said, amazed that the information she needed for her story came to her tenfold.

  “So, what’s the catch? Do you let one of the people in the couple in on it from the

  Get-go?”

  “It’s not always like that,” Layla answered. “Sometimes we wait until after the ceremony, and other times, we help… we guide them along a bit.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes… it’s quite complicated,” the mayor added ruefully. “Some people are quite stubborn. We have contracts, too.”

  “Contracts?”

  “Yes, in order for us to make this a real ‘miracle’ we have to guarantee its success.”

  “What’s in the contract?”

  “You can never get a divorce.”

  “Never?”

  “Never,” the mayor confirmed. “We have a great set of lawyers behind us on the contracts. They make sure that everything is perfectly legal and binding.”

  “So, the people that get married actually agree to that?” Mary asked, amazed.

  “Yes, it’s part of the charm. Of course, you could say no, but why would you? The whole ‘love-match’ is perfect. We take a long while in our decisions, and actually several of our couples for the next few years have already been selected.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope,” Layla said proudly.

  “Then why go through the whole farce of the jar?”

  “Well, the jar is tricky. We still collect names and then we have a separate jar with the names of the couple only.” Roy looked at his wife and grinned. They really did look happy.

  “So, you have over 4,000 names collected and the papers all say the same name?” Mary asked, and saw Roy nod.

  “Yep.”

  “Weird.”

  “I know,” Roy said. “When I found out I was shocked, but any way you slice it, it’s a good deal. I didn’t have to go through all the pain of trying to find out if Layla was perfect for me. Arranged marriages were, a lot of times, very successful.”

  “It’s all very romantic, isn’t it?” Layla asked Mary. Mary only nodded. The information from tonight’s session would put a lot of people over the top. In an odd way, Mary felt pissed that nobody ever selected her to marry anyone.

  “You’re wondering why you haven’t been picked yet, aren’t you?” Layla asked.

  Mary blushed.

  “It’s not that we don’t want happiness for you, Mary. We do. It’s just that, well… we haven’t found your perfect someone yet.”

  “Have you put your name in the jar this year, Mary?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Well, it doesn’t hurt to have a bit of faith every once in a while,” Roy said, handing her a pen and a small sheaf of paper. Mary took it and scrawled her name on it and placed it in her pocket. She looked at the mayor and his wife and nodded, thanking them for their time, knowing that in her heart James was her perfect someone.

  “That’s okay, I am perfectly happy to choose my own mate. I’ll put this in your fake jar on the way out,” Mary said, knowing full well that she wouldn’t. It was funny, really. She’d hoped that it was magic, meeting the love of your life from just writing your name on the small piece of paper. A little bit of magic inside of her died that night as she walked out the door.

  Several hours later, Mary was still up, reeling from what the Jamesons told her. She’d learned all about the festival, the truth about the couples and the reason why everything went the way it did over the years. She’d learned how the festival used to be run and how it had changed. She wasn’t surprised to learn Ava Rochester was the kingpin in the whole operation. After she’d left the mayor and his wife, Mary stopped at the retirement home to see Ava Rochester.

  “So, you found out about everything?” was the first thing that Ava Rochester said when Mary arrived.

  Mary wasn’t shocked that Ava knew. Mainly she felt relieved. The Jamesons must have phoned her right away.

  “Are you surprised, Mrs. Rochester?”

  “No, not really. My grandson seems to think you came from the Almighty Himself. You’re one smart cookie, Mary.”

  Mary actually blushed. It felt good to get a compliment that high from James’s grandmother. “Thank you.”

  “No, darling, thank you. I’ve never seen James so happy.”

  “I haven’t been, either.”

  “Do you understand why you can’t tell anyone about this?”

  “I should have known that you would try to stop me, Mrs. Rochester.”

  “Ava.”

  “Ava, I should have known. James has tried to stop me from the beginning, and I get it now. He said that he didn’t think you would be able to take it.”

  “No, my dear, I can take it. I just don’t think it’s fair to all of the couples out there. You see, my John has no idea. I love him so much, Mary. I am sure now that you can see how much, seeing as you are in love yourself.”

  Mary didn’t even make an effort to deny it. It clearly showed in her eyes. “Yes.”

  Ava smiled. “I’m glad to know for sure. James is a good man.”

  “Yes, yes he is.”

  “Well, things kept going wrong. I told you about my father and how he made me change schools. It was a nightmare. I was so in love with John and then we had to leave. John thought the whole thing was hopeless. He went into the military and I didn’t know what to do. I remembered the festival from when I was a kid, so I wrote the town’s librarian—Lillian Andrews at the time. She’s dead now, God rest her soul. Shortly after that, I convinced Lillian to change it up a bit, to make it more interesting. She did. I could tell John. I just…well there isn’t much magic left in the world. And my John is such a romantic. I fear if I tell him the truth about
what I did he wouldn’t understand. Maybe he’d want a divorce. Maybe he’d think I tricked him into marriage.”

  Mary looked at Ava and felt sorry for her. She saw a few tears escape and sighed. “But you have to know he loves you. You see the way he looks at you.”

  “Yes, I do, but I’m afraid that will all change if he knows.”

  “So, how do you get away with the secret meetings?”

  “Wow, the Jamesons didn’t leave anything out, did they?”

  “No, I’m afraid they didn’t,” Mary said, hoping that she wouldn’t kill this woman’s good feelings for her and her grandson.

  “Well, the meetings aren’t all that often, and Layla usually just comes to me. I make the excuse of girl talk and we talk. It’s always around Christmas.”

  “Have you talked yet this year?”

  “Yes, darling, we have. The couple has been chosen,” Ava said, looking down. There was something about her expression that made Mary worry.

  “Who is it?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  But you do know?”

  “I know who the male is. That’s all I can say.”

  “You only know half of the couple?” That seemed odd.

  “Well, I know both of the people, but I let fate decide on the other half.”

  “What does that mean? I thought the voting was rigged.”

  “I believe in threes, Mary, not pieces of paper.”

  Mary looked up and knew Dr. Turner had met with Ava Rochester that one day long ago. “Threes?”

  “There are always signs, mind you, but I’ve noticed they travel in threes. Once the third one happens, fate takes over.”

  “Fate?”

  “Fate,” Ava confirmed. She looked deep into Mary’s eyes and Mary felt a sudden chill. She decided it was time to go home, and hoped like hell that the Rochesters didn’t hate her after the weekend was over.

  Chapter Seven

  “So, have you decided yet?” James asked. He felt utterly exhausted. The past two nights he’d worked and worried. All he could think about was Mary and their future together. Why he gave her a few days to answer, he would never understand.

  “You said I could give you until Friday.” Mary sounded happy. He wished he was there, with her in his arms.

  “I know…why did I do that again?”

  “You said you didn’t want to pressure me.”

  “Ah…well, I am a sweet man like that,” he joked. Mary laughed. Their words were just over a whisper. “You sound happy.”

  “I am.”

  “Glad to hear it. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait to see you, either.”

  “Does that mean what I think it does?” James asked, trying to trick her out of her answer.

  “Maybe, but you won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”

  “You’re right…I want to see your face when you say ‘yes.’”

  “I missed you today.”

  “I missed you, too.” James crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned back into his chair. “I really wish I could come over.”

  “I…come over, James.”

  James was silent for a moment and then spoke. “What?”

  “I said, come over, James.”

  “To your place? Now?” James felt like a randy teenager. His palms started to sweat. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be over in thirty minutes.”

  On the way over to Mary’s place, James received three phone calls and two texts. It was frigid outside, so it would take a little longer than thirty minutes to get there. James looked down at his phone and noticed his grandmother’s name on the Caller ID. He punched in her number and waited for her to pick up.

  She answered on the first try. “Hello, James?”

  “Grandmother, how are you?”

  “She knows.”

  James swallowed then cleared his throat. “What does she know?”

  “The Jamesons told her about the contracts. I don’t know if she knows your part in them or not. Frankly, she didn’t say anything about that, but she does know there are contracts and she knows that it’s all arranged. And she knows that your grandfather is in the dark about it.”

  James took a deep breath. “Why the hell would they say anything to her?”

  “Christine.”

  “What about Mrs. Turner?”

  “Well, Christine thought it best. She said she could tell the girl wanted to expose everything, but she thought against it at the last moment. She actually helped Christine before she let the cat out of the bag to Dr. Turner.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know. She is going ahead with the story.”

  “No, she wouldn’t do that. Did she tell you that, Grandmother?”

  “She did. I told her that I worried about your grandfather’s reaction, and how he would feel about me. She did seem genuinely worried. She was nice about it, though. I hate to ask you to do this, James, but could you talk to her? Maybe ask her not to print that article. Maybe you can read it. She’d let you read it before it goes to print, wouldn’t she?”

  James wanted to punch something. “I’ve…” he wanted to tell his grandmother that he couldn’t do that, he’d already asked Mary to marry him. He wanted to tell her about the article and about how things went, but he wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t use that leverage. Right now, if he let Mary in on his part, she might say no, and he didn’t know if he could bear that right now.

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  “You’re a good man, James. She loves you, you know.”

  “Did she tell you that?” James asked.

  “She didn’t have to. Search your heart. The answer is there.”

  James nodded, knowing that his grandmother couldn’t see him. “Take care. I’ll see you at the committee meeting.”

  “See you there.”

  ****

  Mary worked on the article while she waited for James. She was almost finished, checking for spelling mistakes and grammar errors. She felt happy about the way it turned out. It was hard to believe that she’d got all the information that she needed so easily.

  A few minutes after she left her office, she heard James’s knock on her door. She answered it with a big smile on her face. James looked anything but happy. “What’s wrong?”

  James walked in the door and paced the living room. Clearly, something bothered him. “Did something happen to you on the way over?”

  He still didn’t answer.

  “Are you okay?” Mary asked. She walked over to him and reached up to touch his forehead. “Everything—”

  “Everything is just fine. You’ve upset my grandmother.”

  “If I have upset your grandmother that is her own doing. I just asked her a few questions. The questions may have upset her, but I can assure you, James, that I am just doing my job.”

  “Stop writing that damned article!”

  Mary jumped, she knew James would be upset, but he’d never yelled at her. “No.”

  “No? Then I’ll go to your boss.”

  “Go ahead. I really don’t care what you want, James. I am writing the article, with or without your permission. The people of this town need to know the truth.”

  “You really think people want to know how cynical you are.”

  “I am not cynical!”

  “Yes you are. You are the most stubborn woman I know. You say you don’t believe in romance, fate, happily-ever-after…Well, let me tell you something. My grandparents are happy and you are out to destroy that for some reason. I will not let that happen. For years I have watched the way they look at each other. What’s wrong with you?”

  Mary looked down at her hands as she continued to type. “Nothing is wrong with me. I just think people should know the truth.”

  “I thought you were different.”

  Mary stopped what she was doing and looked up, as tears glistened in her eyes. “I am.”
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  “No, no you’re not. I asked you to marry me. I love you, Mary, and here you are—just the same as everyone else that I talk to every day, and I’m sick of it.”

  “James, no!”

  “I can’t see you anymore, Mary,” James said quietly as he started for the door.

  “But what about your proposal?” Mary started to panic now. She’d just begun to get used to the idea that she and James would be together forever.

  “Did you think I could be with someone who would tear apart the lives of my family?”

  “But it’s the truth, James.”

  “So, what?”

  “So what? So, it’s my job.”

  “Your job was to write about the festival, not destroy it. I am just sorry I ever got involved in the first place.”

  “Go then. Do what everyone else always does.”

  “I asked you several times to stop writing it. You still haven’t listened. When you love someone, you compromise. I guess I got the answer I needed.”

  “But…”

  “You were right, Mary. It was way too soon. Have a good Christmas,” James said, then walked out the door, slamming it.

  Mary put her head in her hands, sat on the couch and cried the rest of the evening.

  ****

  That night, while Mary cried, little things happened in the town of Noel. Odd things…things that people who didn’t know about the problems Mary and James faced, wouldn’t notice.

  The Tomlins sat in their living room in a loving embrace. Gary brought his wife flowers for the first time in five years, a feat that surpassed the most romantic gestures, according to Mrs. Tomlin.

  The Rochesters sat in front of the fireplace in the retirement home’s great room and shared a hot cocoa, wrapped up in a blanket, reading a book by Frost.

  The Turners ate dinner together, even though it was difficult for the doctor and his wife to get time alone.