Two Tickets to the Christmas Ball
Cora felt her mouth drop open. “You’re Christians?”
“Yes,” said Aunt Mae. “All of us.” She nodded to each of the family.
“Even Simon,” said Sandy. “Granddad says it’s harder for a man to be a Christian.”
“Really?” Cora turned to look at the man who was supposedly mesmerized by Max Lucado’s wisdom. His ears were pink. “Why is it harder for a man?”
“Stubborn and proud, is what I’d say,” offered Aunt Mae. “Men get double doses of both at birth.”
Mrs. Derrick shook her head. “No, I think it’s because they’re too busy to sit and worship.”
“I’m plenty busy,” said Aunt Mae.
Cora turned to Sandy. “What does Granddad say is the reason?”
Sandy recited, “It takes a man a while to get his head around the fact that”—she pinched her lips in thought, then nodded—“love makes you stronger, not weaker.” She turned to her big brother. “Is that right, Simon?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
5
A shadow fell across Cora’s office desk. She looked up and saw Sandy standing beside her.
“I came on the bus,” Sandy said. “We’re going to look for a costume. Simon says he couldn’t find Sage Street. Do you know where it is?”
“Yes, I do.” Cora pushed a lock of hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the office before.”
“Simon sometimes brings me on Saturdays. But I rode the bus today. I’m very good at riding the bus.”
“I’m glad to see you, and guess what? I have pictures of the kitties.”
Sandy’s eyes opened wide, and a smile tilted her lips.
Cora tapped a few commands on her keyboard, and Skippy appeared with her babies.
“Aww!” Sandy dropped to her knees beside the desk chair to get a better view.
Cora clicked through the ten pictures she’d taken before leaving for work. “They made wee little noises this morning that sounded more like squeaks than meows.”
She had to go through the rotation again as three of her co-workers came up behind her to view the kittens.
Mrs. Hudson laid a hand on Sandy’s shoulder. “Is this a friend of yours, Cora?”
Sandy got up as Cora said, “Yes, Sandy is my friend.”
Simon’s sister reached a hand out to shake Mrs. Hudson’s hand. “I am Cora’s friend. And I’m Simon’s sister. My name is Sandy.”
Mrs. Hudson took her plump hand, shook it, but held on. “Did you come to have lunch with Simon?”
Sandy nodded so hard she had to push her glasses back up her nose. “And we’re going to go shopping. We’re going to a Christmas ball, and I need a gown.”
Mrs. Hudson looked suitably impressed.
“We’re going to walk to Sage Street and go to a costume shop. But Simon said he couldn’t find Sage Street. Do you know where it is?”
Now Mrs. Hudson looked puzzled.
“You don’t know where it is either?” Sandy’s expression crumpled a bit. “What if we can’t find it? That would be awful.”
“No Sandy, I was wondering what kind of ball it is and if you need a prom-dress-type gown or a costume.”
Sandy beamed. “I can have anything I want. It’s a wizards’ ball. It’s magical. I can wear a dress like a princess or a fairy or Little Bo Peep. And Simon said one of the shops on Sage Street is a costume shop.”
“Sponsors?” Mrs. Hudson looked to Cora for an explanation.
She shrugged. “I can’t tell you much more. The Web site has a list of stores that promote the ball. Probably for the free advertisement. And the pictures of balls from previous years show all sorts of costumes, gowns, whatever. And, of course, since it’s a wizards’ ball, there are people dressed in wizard costumes. It looks like fun.”
Sandy took Cora’s hand. “Will you go with us?”
“To the ball?” Cora shook her head. Going to the dance with Sandy would be going to the dance with Mr. Derrick. That would be beyond uncomfortable, though for one teeny-tiny bit of a very short second, the thought of dating her boss’s boss felt like it could be made to be comfortable.
Sandy was tapping Cora on the shoulder. “To Sage Street. You know where it is, right?”
“Your brother has been there. It really isn’t hard to find. And I have to work.”
“We’re going at lunchtime. Simon will say it’s all right.”
Through a space in the crowd around Cora’s desk, Cora glimpsed Simon coming their way. She tipped her head toward him, and the office girls took the hint, dispersing to attend to business. That left Sandy and Mrs. Hudson to greet Mr. Derrick.
He hugged his sister. “And what is it Simon says is all right?”
Sandy grinned at Cora. “That’s a joke. We try to make sentences come out to say ‘Simon says’ because it’s a game.” She turned back to her big brother. “Can Cora come to help you find the street?”
Simon glanced around the room. Cora followed his gaze. Several employees hustled to make themselves look busy. Simon’s eyes came back to the three women at Cora’s desk.
Mrs. Hudson leaned toward him. “It’s not going to start office gossip for the two of you to take your sister out to lunch and do a little shopping. I’ll cover Cora’s calls until she gets back, so you don’t have to hurry Sandy.”
Simon hesitated for a moment. Cora wondered why it was so hard for him to go out to lunch with her. Many of the employees invaded the nearby eateries in flocks.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “All right, then. Are you ready for lunch, Miss Crow-der?”
“Almost. I should send off a couple of e-mails before we go. It won’t take long. They’re already written.” Cora turned back to her monitor as Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Derrick walked away.
She let a little smile escape.
She suppressed a giggle.
She told herself to get a grip.
A romantic Serious Simon didn’t jive with anything she knew about the man. And she wasn’t all that good at relationships.
Sandy stood at Cora’s shoulder and watched the kitten pictures disappear. Cora’s e-mail program popped onto the screen.
Sandy sighed. “I saw you on Simon’s computer at home.”
What? My picture on his computer? She looked up at Sandy, and her shock must have registered on her face, because the young woman took a step back.
Sandy turned red. “That’s okay, isn’t it? We saw you when Simon showed me the Wizards’ Christmas Ball Web site. Simon said it was just a shadow. But I think it was you.”
“Oh, I saw a face on that site too. It must be something wrong with their program.”
“Did you see a lady too?” asked Sandy.
No. She hadn’t seen a lady. She’d seen a man. And, well, as crazy as it seemed, the man looked a lot like Simon Derrick. That had to be just the power of suggestion. She hadn’t thought it looked like anyone until Sandy brought up this whole absurd idea. It wasn’t her on his screen, and it wasn’t him on her screen.
“Cora.” Sandy’s soft voice made Cora jump. “Did you see a lady?”
“No. It was a man, but just a blink of an image, nothing you could focus on.” She put her hands back on her keyboard and scrutinized the office PC—the good old reliable office PC that she could look at all day long and not see a handsome man in his T-shirt with a shadow of beard darkening his chin. “Give me a minute, Sandy, and I’ll be ready to go.”
She found the e-mail addresses and put them in the To box, attached the documents, wrote a quick closing, and hit Send.
She stood. “Let’s go get my coat and purse. I’ll show you where the employees take coffee breaks.”
They passed Simon discussing something with Mrs. Hudson at her desk. Cora nodded at Simon as they made eye contact. “We’re almost ready.”
By the time she and Sandy returned, Simon waited for them by the elevator.
“Are you sure you want to walk, Candy-Sandy?”
he asked. “We might get lost, and then it’ll be a long haul.”
“I can do it.” She laughed. “And besides, I know you. If we walk too long, you’ll stick me in a taxi, and I like taxi rides.”
“Well, we’re not going to get lost. I put the address in a map search, and it took a few tries, but Sage Street popped up on a special program without any trouble. It didn’t come up on the usual program I use but redirected to another search site. Sage Street is where Miss Crowder and I left it last week.”
The bell dinged, and the elevator door slid open. They waited for it to empty, then stepped in. Sandy stood next to the control panel. “Three passengers got off, and three passengers got on.” When the door shut, she asked, “Simon says what number?”
“SL will put us on street level.”
She punched the lettered button. “Good, I want to see the store decorations up close.”
Simon made a mournful face. “I can only be gone two hours, Sandy, or I’ll have to stay more than an extra hour tonight.”
Sandy turned to Cora. “Will you have to work an extra hour tonight too?”
“I’m not planning to stay with you the whole two hours,” Cora said. “I’ll help you find the street, then eat lunch. But I really need to get back.”
Simon chucked Sandy under her chin. “I talked to Cora’s boss, and she has permission to stay out for an extended lunch, and she will not have to stay an hour to make up for it.”
Cora’s eyes widened.
“Mrs. Hudson gave you as long as it takes.” One corner of Simon’s mouth tilted upward. “She said you volunteered to work next week when so many others will be on vacation. She also said you had volunteered every Christmas since you first came to Sorenby’s.”
Sandy bounced on her toes and skipped out as soon as the elevator door opened. “Which way?” Her head swung back and forth.
Simon pulled Cora’s arm through his and led her up to where his sister had stopped in the lobby. Cora started to pull away, but then he tucked his other arm through Sandy’s. “This way,” he said and started them toward the Twiller Street exit.
Cora left her arm resting in the gentleman’s care and puzzled over the vagaries of social etiquette. She didn’t believe any man had ever escorted her like this. Mixed feelings kept her back stiff. The closeness felt odd and comforting at the same time. The pressure of his arm unsettled her but also gave her confidence. She wavered between accepting the pleasant associations of being on the arm of an attractive man and the fact that she had no right to claim any relationship with Mr. Derrick.
But he’d made the gesture, and he didn’t seem to think anything of it. Why should she be so concerned? She searched the faces of people passing on the sidewalk. No one else seemed to think Cora Crowder walking down the street on the arm of Simon Derrick was strange.
Simon stood with his hands in his pockets as Cora and Sandy ogled the costumes in the window of the shop. Velvet-covered mannequins modeled the gowns, and a slumbering cat lay curled on a plush brocade pillow in a basket inside the display window.
They’d walked the distance in less than ten minutes, made no wrong turns, and found the street just as easily as he had the day he visited the bookstore. Sandy’s rosy cheeks and the puff of vapor from her breath reminded him that she needed to be hustled out of the chill wind.
“I thought the idea of shopping was to go into the store,” he said.
Sandy laughed, but Cora tossed him a look that said she didn’t know whether he was joking or upset. He smiled in an effort to clear up her confusion. She returned his smile, and he opened the door. Bells hanging at the top of the door frame rang, and he gestured for the ladies to enter.
A muffled voice came from among the many racks of clothing. “Was that the bells, Bonnie?”
“I think it was.”
Two of the collections of long gowns jiggled and swayed. Simon expected the women embodying the voices to appear through the small gaps between racks. Instead, two old ladies appeared from under the racks of dresses and peered up.
“May we help you?” said the one on the right. “Are you going to the ball?”
“Yes!” said Sandy. “You have cats?”
“Cats?” Simon looked quizzically at his sister.
Sandy grinned and pointed to various spots in the room. Three felines in addition to the one they’d seen in the window seemed to be residents of the store.
“What are their names?” Sandy pulled off her gloves and inched toward the closest tabby. “I’m going to get a kitten, and I have to think of good names for cats. Do they like to be petted?”
“Well,” said the shopkeeper, crawling out from the left side of the racks, “we have Muffin, Cupcake, Marmalade, and Twinkie.”
“Marmalade didn’t come with the others,” explained the other woman. “He would have been Toast or, perhaps, French Toast. Yes, you can pet them.”
Sandy nodded and stroked the cat’s side. “Which one is this?”
“Muffin.”
“Do you ladies need some help getting to your feet?” asked Simon.
“Oh, how kind,” said one.
“But unnecessary,” said the other.
“Just turn your head,” said the first.
“We aren’t as graceful as we used to be.”
Simon, Cora, and Sandy turned toward the door. Behind them, two grunts and a whooshing sound accompanied a brisk stir of the air in the shop. Simon almost turned to identify what had caused the sudden draft but remembered in time the old ladies’ request.
“There now, you can turn back around.”
“You’re quick,” said Sandy. “It takes Aunt Mae a lot longer to get up.” She tilted her head. “And you’re not even out of breath.” She nodded. “You’re good. What were you doing on the floor?”
“Bonnie dropped a button, and you just can’t get buttons to match some of the older gowns.” She came forward and took both of Sandy’s hands in hers. “My name is Betty Booterbaw, and this is my sister Bonnie Booterbaw. We own the store.”
“Is it fun?” asked Sandy.
“Mostly.”
Sandy eyed the clothing. “I don’t see any ghosts or gross costumes. Don’t you do Halloween stuff?”
Simon felt the dawning of comprehension. His little sister hadn’t voiced a concern but had been sending him subtle hints. Now he understood why she had insisted Miss Crowder come along. He smiled, deliberately showing that her fear didn’t upset him. “Were you scared to come here, Sandy? You should have told me.”
She nodded and turned big eyes to the sisters. “I don’t like scary things.”
Betty scowled. “You mean witches and monsters? We’d never carry that sort of costume.”
“We don’t believe in witches,” said Bonnie. “Wizards are another thing. Old and wise, that’s what the root of ‘wizard’ means. And did you know a wizard can be male or female?”
Betty gave her sister a frown and shook her head as if to discourage the line of conversation.
Simon stepped into the breach. “We’re looking for a dress for Sandy to wear to the Wizards’ Christmas Ball.”
Betty Booterbaw looked around his sister to Cora. “Oh, we have lovely gowns for you, dear.”
“I’m Cora, not Sandy.”
Bonnie gasped. “There must be some mistake.” She frowned at Simon. “You acquired a ticket to the ball, didn’t you?”
Simon nodded.
Bonnie bit her lips as she turned to Cora. “And you got a ticket?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t going, so I gave it to Mr. Derrick for Sandy. Do you have any dresses for Sandy?”
Simon looked at his sister’s face and knew she was getting upset. What did it matter to these two old hens who went to the ball? They shouldn’t make his sister feel like she wasn’t good enough.
Afraid to open his mouth because indignation might make him less than tactful, he allowed Cora to handle the shopkeepers. In a minute she had a smile back on Sandy’s face and the two ol
d biddies’ enthusiastic help.
“Of course.” Bonnie’s face broke into a smile. “I’m sure we can find something. What kind of costume are you looking for?”
His sister plunged into the racks of clothing with zeal, happily pulling out one costume after another and holding them up for his inspection. She favored fairy and princess gowns.
She picked out a few dresses, all of them pink. Besides being pink, they had another thing in common. They were all the wrong size. But Betty and Bonnie assured her they had an absolute hoard of fashions in reserve. Whatever style she picked, they would be able to find one in her size in the stockroom.
While Sandy was in the fitting room trying on a princess gown, Bonnie Booterbaw cornered Cora. “Don’t you want to go to the ball?” Her face showed real concern. “I thought it was every girl’s dream to attend a real ball.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I haven’t been to many dances. In fact, none. And, well, I wouldn’t know anyone there.”
Sandy’s head popped out between the curtains. “You’ll know us. Simon, say she can go with us.”
Simon turned to Cora. This would be like taking a friend of Sandy’s. That’s all. This wasn’t even as hard as asking a girl out in high school or college. Back then his hands shook, his voice trembled, and the invitation stumbled off his tongue. He was a real nerd.
He cleared his throat and shoved his hand in his coat pocket. “Miss Crowd—er, Sandy and I would be honored if you would accompany us to the Wizards’ Christmas Ball.”
“That’s all fine and dandy,” said Betty Booterbaw, “but she doesn’t have a ticket.”
“You’re listed as a sponsor,” said Simon. “Don’t you sell tickets?”
Both Booterbaw sisters shook their heads. Bonnie looked at Betty. Betty shrugged her shoulders. Bonnie sighed. “Don’t have even one left.”
Cora put a hand on his arm. “It’s all right, Mr. Derrick. Really, it is.”
One of the cats stood and stretched and started a yowly conversation with another.
“Oh dear,” said Bonnie and covered her ears.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sandy’s plaintive voice from the changing cubicle.