Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

      “Mary Jo,” his mother said wistfully. “What a nice name.”

      She had a nice face to go with it, too, Mack mused and then caught himself. He had no business thinking about her. None whatsoever.

      “I met Shirley Bliss in the grocery store earlier,” his mother went on to say. “The last thing I wanted to do was make a dash to the store. You know how busy they get the day before a big holiday.”

      Actually, he didn’t, not from experience, but it seemed logical enough.

      “Anyway, I ran out of evaporated milk. I needed it for the green Jell-O salad I make every Christmas.”

      Mack remembered that salad well; it was one of his favorites. His mother had insisted on making it, he noted, even though Mack wouldn’t be joining the family for dinner.

      “I could’ve used regular milk, I suppose, but I was afraid it wouldn’t taste the same. I don’t like to use substitutes if it can be avoided.”

      “Shirley Bliss, Mom,” he reminded her.

      “Oh, yes. Shirley. I saw her at the store. She was with her daughter, Tanni.”

      “O-k-a-y.” Mack dragged out the word, hoping she’d get to the point.

      “That’s a lovely name, isn’t it?” his mother asked. “Her given name is Tannith.”

      “Tanni’s the one who told you about Mary Jo?” he asked, bringing her back to the discussion.

      “No, Shirley did.” She hesitated. “Well, on second thought, it was Tanni’s boyfriend, Shaw, who told her, so I guess in a manner of speaking it was her daughter.”

      “And how did Shaw hear?” he pressed, losing track of all these names.

      “Apparently Mary Jo came into Mocha Mama’s this morning and was asking him a lot of questions.” “Oh.”

      “And he suggested she ask Grace Harding about David Rhodes.”

      “I see.” Well, he was beginning to, anyway.

      “Shirley said Shaw told her that Mary Jo looked like she was about to deliver that baby any minute.”

      “She’s due in two weeks.”

      “My goodness! Do you think David Rhodes is the baby’s father?” his mother breathed, as if she’d suddenly made the connection. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

      He already knew as much but preferred not to contribute to the gossip obviously making the rounds. “Did Shirley happen to say where Mary Jo is right now?” Maybe someone should check up on her. Mack had recommended she rest for the remainder of the day but he didn’t like the idea of her being alone.

      “No,” his mother said. “She’ll be fine, won’t she?”

      “I assume so….”

      “Good.”

      “Where’s Dad?” Mack asked.

      His mother laughed softly. “Where do you think he is?”

      It didn’t take a private eye—which his father was—to know the answer to that. “Shopping,” Mack said with a grin.

      “Right. Your father’s so efficient about everything else, yet he leaves gift-buying until the last possible minute.”

      “I remember that one year when the only store open was the pharmacy,” he recalled. “He bought you a jigsaw puzzle of the Tower of London, two romance novels and some nail polish remover.”

      “And he was so proud of himself,” Corrie said fondly.

      “We all had a good time putting that puzzle together, didn’t we?” It’d been one of their better Christmases, and the family still did jigsaw puzzles every holiday. A small family tradition had come about as a result of that particular Christmas and his father’s last-minute gift.

      “You’ll call in the morning?” his mother asked.

      “I will,” Mack promised. “And I’ll stop by the house as soon as I’m relieved. It’ll be late tomorrow afternoon. Save me some leftovers, okay?”

      “Of course,” his mother said. “Gloria’s schedule is the reverse of yours, so she’s coming over in the morning.” Corrie sounded slightly more cheerful as she said, “At least we’ll see you both for a little while.”

      After a few words of farewell, Mack snapped his cell phone shut and clipped it back on his waistband.

      He’d no sooner started getting everything ready for that night’s dinner than Brandon Hutton sauntered into the kitchen. “You got company.”

      “Me?” Mack couldn’t imagine who’d come looking for him. He was new in town and didn’t know many people yet.

      “Some guy and a woman,” Brandon elaborated.

      “Did they give you a name?” Mack asked.

      “Sorry, no.”

      Mack walked toward the front of the building and as he neared he heard voices—one of them unmistakably his sister’s.

      “Linnette!” he said, bursting into the room.

      “Mack.” She threw herself into his arms for a fierce hug.

      “What are you doing here?” he asked. The last he’d heard she was in Buffalo Valley and intended to stay there for the holidays.

      She slipped one arm around his waist. “It’s a surprise. Pete suggested it and offered to drive me, so here I am.”

      Mack turned to the other man. In a phone conversation the month before, Linnette had told him she’d met a farmer and that they were seeing each other. “Mack McAfee,” he said, thrusting out his hand.

      Pete’s handshake was firm. “Pleased to meet you, Mack.”

      “Happy to meet you, too.” He turned back to his sister. “Mom doesn’t know?”

      Linnette giggled. “She doesn’t have a clue. Dad, either. It’s going to be a total shock to both of them.”

      “When did you arrive?”

      “About five minutes ago. We decided to come and see you first, then we’re going to the house.”

      “Dad’s out doing his Christmas shopping.”

      Linnette laughed and looked at Pete. “What did I tell you?”

      “That he’d be shopping,” Pete said laconically.

      “Mom’s busy cooking, I’ll bet.” This comment was directed at Mack.

      “My favorite salad,” he informed her. “Even though I won’t be there, she’s making it for me. I’m already looking forward to the leftovers. Oh, and she’s doing a ham this year.”

      Linnette laughed again. “She discussed her Christmas menu with you?”

      “In minute detail.”

      “Poor Mom,” Linnette said.

      “I wish I could see the expression on her face when you walk in the door.”

      “I love that we’re going to surprise her.” Linnette’s wide grin was perhaps the best Christmas gift he could have received. His sister, happy again.

      Mack hadn’t seen her smile like this in … well, a year anyway.

      “Call me later and let me know how long it takes Mom to stop crying.”

      “I will,” Linnette said.

      His sister and Pete left for the house, and Mack returned to the firehouse kitchen, where he was assigned cooking duty that evening. He resumed chopping onions for the vat of chili