“I know you don’t like Christmas.” Emily looked uneasy. “But I don’t really know why.”

  Krista felt both defensive and concerned. “What makes you think I don’t like Christmas? We always have a tree and presents and everything.” Just last night Krista had stuck the box that contained their artificial tree in the laundry room.

  “I know, but I can tell you don’t really like Christmas. And I just wonder why sometimes.”

  Krista picked up her empty plate. She wasn’t ready for this. Not tonight.

  “Is it because your birthday is at Christmastime?”

  Krista rinsed her plate, trying to think of a good answer, something Emily could understand. “Well, I’ve never been that into my birthday, Emily. You know that.”

  “I know, but I don’t get it.” Emily brought her plate to the sink. “I love when my birthday comes. I can’t wait until May sixth. But when your birthday comes, you don’t even tell anyone.”

  Krista took her plate. “Just because it doesn’t really matter.”

  “But why?” Emily had that stubborn tone in her voice. “I want to know, Mama.”

  Krista set down the plate and sighed. “It’s a long story, honey, and there’s—”

  “I like long stories.” Emily grabbed her hand. “Come sit on the couch and tell me your story.”

  Krista just shook her head. “Okay, but I’ll tell you the short version. I want to get some of those boxes unpacked and put away.”

  “I’ll help you—if you tell me your story first.”

  They made room on the couch and Krista attempted to tell Emily a sanitized version of her unhappy childhood. “Well, you know I didn’t have real parents when I was a kid,” she began slowly.

  “Because you were in foster homes,” Emily added.

  “That’s right.” She didn’t want to explain that she couldn’t be adopted because her parents had never gone through the proper steps . . . because she’d simply been abandoned with no paperwork. “Some of the foster homes weren’t too bad. But some had too many kids. And some had other problems. And sometimes I’d finally feel at home and then something would happen . . . and I’d get moved.”

  “But why did that make you not like Christmas? Or your birthday?”

  “Well, I guess because both my birthday and Christmas came at the same time and, well, I was a little kid and I’d get my hopes up really high. I’d think that Santa Claus was coming or something else very special was going to happen. I’d make a wish or dream a dream . . . and then I’d get disappointed.” Krista felt a lump in her throat. “So I finally just quit hoping altogether. And I made up my mind that I hated Christmas—and my birthday. I even hated the month of December. Because it always just made me sad. Sadder than anything else. But when January came along, I felt happier.” She smiled down on Emily, smoothing her blonde hair away from her face. “But then I started to like Christmas again because of you, Emily.” At least she’d tried to like it. She’d pretended to like it. Apparently not well enough. “And I like Christmas because it’s supposed to be a day when we remember that God sent us his Son.”

  “And that should make you happy—that you and Jesus have almost the same birthday.”

  Krista simply nodded. She didn’t think Emily needed to hear that Jesus’ real birthday was probably a couple months earlier. And now she needed a way to wrap this up—in a positive way if possible.

  “Did it make you even sadder about Christmas, I mean because Daddy left us at Christmastime? And now he’s never coming back anymore?”

  Krista sighed deeply. She didn’t realize that Emily actually remembered it had been shortly before Christmas when Garth had let them down. “Yeah, I suppose that didn’t help much, Em. But I’m okay about that. And Daddy has a new life now. Remember I told you he has a new wife.” Krista tried hard to conceal her feelings about Emily’s father. Even when he failed to pay child support or send his daughter birthday or Christmas gifts, Krista kept quiet about it. She didn’t want to turn Emily against her father.

  “And you still have me.” Emily looked up with wide eyes.

  “Thank God, I still have you.” Krista hugged her. “And I’ll try to be better about Christmas. But it’s not easy for me. And you know what they say, honey.”

  “What?” She tipped her head to the side. “What do they say?”

  “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” Krista winked at her.

  Emily frowned. “But you’re not an old dog, Mama.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m as tired as an old dog.” She reached for a pile of towels. “And you promised you’d help me. Can you go put these in the linen closet by the bathroom?” Relieved to move on, Krista distracted Emily with the setting up of housekeeping. But by the time she tucked Emily into bed, Krista knew that she had to do something to get through her usual seasonal slump. December was right around the corner. And Winter Hill was not a place to shirk from Christmas.

  6

  The next morning, Beth met Krista at City Hall to get some more photos and finish up her interview. “I wanted to tell you that I thought you did a good job managing the Christmasville planning meeting.” Beth chuckled. “I was already creating a front-page story in my head about the mayor and the city’s CFO getting into fisticuffs.”

  “Fisticuffs.” Krista laughed. “Now that’s not a word you hear every day.”

  “Well, I am a journalist,” Beth teased. “I’m supposed to use big, expensive words.”

  “Did you get enough about me?” Krista asked. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it. But I do have work to do.”

  “You mean Christmasville work?” Beth asked. “From what I hear that’s about all you’re expected to be doing for the next few weeks.”

  “I’m beginning to realize that.” She pointed to her ever-growing to-do list. The top priorities this week were regarding the first floor of City Hall. She wanted to make sure that it was safe and operable for Christmasville occupation. She planned to meet with maintenance, the power company, the city attorney, and a few others.

  Beth stood. “Well, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Krista. If you ever need a girlfriend to talk to—I mean off the record—let me know.”

  Krista smiled. “Thank you. I really appreciate that. Maybe we should do lunch sometime.”

  “Yes, well, there are people who say ‘we should do lunch,’ and people who actually make it happen. Why don’t we set it up now?”

  “Okay. Let’s do it.” Krista pulled up her calendar and they both agreed to lunch at Dasher’s Deli on Friday. As Beth left, Krista felt that perhaps this was the beginning of a genuine friendship. Not that Krista had much experience with such things. And the truth was, the idea of it, though intriguing, made her a little nervous.

  Krista spent the rest of the day trying to nail down people regarding the use of the offices on the first floor. Finally, she stopped by the city attorney’s office. “I know I don’t have an appointment with you until tomorrow,” she told Byron. “But I just have a quick question.”

  “Come in,” he said pleasantly. “I’m not that busy.”

  So she went over her worry list with him, explaining concerns she had over using the offices. “The maintenance guys seemed to think I was obsessing,” she confessed. “They act like there’s no problem. Telling me that the police department was perfectly comfortable here for decades. And maybe that’s just the small-town way, to brush things under the rug. But I’m from a big city. And I know this building is old enough to contain asbestos and lead-based paint. The second and third floors have been completely done over, so I assume they’re safe. But this first level, well, it doesn’t appear to have been touched in years. I doubt the police force gave it much thought.”

  “Interesting.” Byron glanced around his office. “I never actually considered those possibilities myself. I suppose I should look into having this place checked.”

  “I don’t want to scare you.” She pointed to the ceiling. “But those tiles could have asbestos. And the flooring might as well.”

  Byron frowned. “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Well, the maintenance crew seems to be dragging their heels. Naturally, they’re used to going through the standard protocol of paperwork, requests, financial analysis—you know, the slow-moving wheels of city progress. You’re using a space down here. And you’re obviously concerned about your own health.” She pointed to a framed photo of an attractive woman and toddler on his desk. “At least I’ll assume that they are.”

  “That’s true.” He nodded. “So you want me to do some checking here, in my own office?”

  “Would you?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I’d be afraid not to now.” He stood up. “In fact, I think I’ll take an early lunch and find someone to look into it immediately. I’d been meaning to do some improvements in here. In fact, my wife already picked out paint samples and has offered to do it. She loves to paint. But if it’s dangerous, I don’t want her in here either.”

  “Or that pretty little girl.”

  He was already loading his briefcase. “I don’t know whether to thank you or get mad,” he said as he reached for his coat.

  “Well, hopefully we’ll find out that it’s perfectly safe.” She followed him out. “And as the city attorney, I’m sure you’d be relieved to know we’re not endangering children and families who come traipsing through here for Christmasville. Otherwise we might as well wait for Halloween and call this the House of Horrors.”

  He groaned. “Oh, that’s awful.”

  “Thank you for checking it out,” she told him. “And please keep this between you and me. No point in frightening anyone until we know for sure. Hopefully we can figure it out quickly. Christmasville is due to open in less than two weeks.”

  “Well, we’ve always had it outside in the past.” They walked toward the front entrance together. “But last year we had such a blizzard during the second week that the kiosk that housed Mrs. Claus’s kitchen collapsed. And a couple of the tented booths nearly blew away in the high winds. Of course, everyone made the best of it and the excess snow was great for the snow-sculpting contest. But it was a relief to think we could house so much of the festivities indoors this year.” He sighed. “My little Janie is really looking forward to Christmasville. She’s almost four. But naturally, I’d want her to be safe.”

  “Naturally,” she said.

  Before he exited, he promised to get back to her as soon as he got a report. She thanked him then headed for the elevator. She’d immediately found the first floor of City Hall a bit unsettling yesterday, but had kept her thoughts to herself. At first she thought it simply had to do with its history. A police station probably had some hard stories . . . if walls could talk. And she knew that one section had originally been used for jail cells, although those were gone now. Still, if it was dangerous as far as toxicity, the city would be foolish to use it for Christmasville. Even if no real harm came from it, anyone could press a lawsuit if they wanted. Especially if they learned of the inherent and neglected dangers. At least Byron could respect that.

  By Wednesday afternoon, Krista had made up her mind. “I’ve got to find a car,” she told Pauline during their coffee break.

  “You don’t have a car?” Pauline looked shocked. “I had no idea.”

  “Well, I hate to complain. And I thought Emily and I could get by for a while. But it’s just too hard. I didn’t realize how early it gets dark here. And then there’s the cold.”

  “Of course, you need a car.” Pauline set down her coffee. “My brother over in Spokane has a big lot. Both new and used cars. I’ll bet he could find you a good deal. Do you know what you’re looking for?”

  “Something small, I suppose. With good fuel economy. And good in this climate.”

  “Why don’t I give him a call for you?” Pauline pulled out her phone. “Then, if you like, I could drive you over to look around.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. I’d love to see Rodney.”

  After work, Pauline drove Krista and Emily to Spokane to see the cars that Rodney had handpicked for Krista to look at. He led them around the lot, explaining the differences between models, finally stopping by a bright red car.

  “Ooh,” Emily cooed. “This is beautiful.”

  “I don’t know.” Krista frowned. She did not want a bright red car.

  “But it’s so pretty. It looks like a Christmas car.”

  Krista grimaced. She definitely did not want a Christmas car.

  “This is a Prius,” Rodney told her. “And based on what Pauline told me, I thought it might be your best bet, but I only have one on the lot right now. They’re pretty popular. If you’re interested in this one, I can give you a really good deal on it. It’s actually last year’s model. This, uh, color wasn’t as popular as I’d expected.”

  Krista could understand that.

  “Please, Mama,” Emily begged. “It’s so pretty. Lots prettier than the other cars.”

  “Go ahead and try it out.” He opened the doors, waiting for them to get inside.

  “Oh, Mama, it’s so nice.” Emily ran her hands over the dashboard and console. “And it smells so clean and new. Can’t we get it? Please?”

  “I have heard good things about these cars,” Krista admitted.

  “The man said he’ll give us a good deal.”

  Krista really was determined to leave this place with a car—but a bright red one?

  “I prayed for God to give us a car for Christmas,” Emily told her with solemn sincerity. “Don’t you think this is the one? It looks like a Christmas car to me.”

  Krista couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I can’t argue with that. It’s a very Christmassy color.”

  “See. Then we should get it.”

  After a test drive and hearing more of Rodney’s reasoning, Krista gave in. And after going through the paperwork, with a dinner of hot dogs and stale potato chips, she and Emily were driving back to Winter Hill in a bright red Christmas car. Emily could not have been happier. Krista was somewhat dumbfounded.

  On Thursday morning, Krista could tell by Byron’s face that the news was not good. “Just get it over with,” she said after he sat down. “Like tearing off a bandage.”

  “There’s asbestos in the floor and ceilings. Not everywhere. Some of the spaces had been updated over the years. But the old ceiling tiles and a lot of the flooring contain asbestos. And a few of the walls have lead paint.”

  “Oh, dear.” She drummed her fingers on her desk, trying to think.

  “It’s a good thing you asked about this.” Byron sighed.

  “So now what? Not that this is your problem.”

  “Actually it is. My office needs abatement too.”

  “Right. And that raises another question, Byron. What about the city’s culpability for when the police force occupied the space? I know asbestos is carcinogenic. And lead is toxic. Does the city bear any liability since the city owns the building? And the police are city employees.”

  “It’s a good question. I wondered about that myself. I’m already looking into the legalities.”

  “Thank you.” She shook her head. “But what about Christmasville? We can’t very well open that space to the public now.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “But it’s not really your problem.” She reached for her phone. “Although I would appreciate a report from you regarding our liability concerns.”

  “I’ll get you a report as soon as I can. Give me a couple of weeks.” He frowned. “In the meantime, I think we should keep a lid on this.”

  “How is that done?” she asked him. “The whole Christmasville Committee will want to know why we can’t use the space.” She sighed. “I feel like I’ve opened a real can of worms.”

  “Well, it’s your can of worms.” His smile looked sympathetic. “Welcome to Winter Hill.” He set a business card on her desk. “This is the abatement company that did the inspection. The contractor is a friend of mine and he’ll send you the report. His name is Owen Payne. And he’s offered to prepare a bid.”

  “Thanks.” She picked up the card, quickly constructing a plan. “I’ll call together an emergency meeting as soon as possible. Maybe this afternoon. I hope you can come.”

  “You bet.” He opened the door. “Good luck.”

  As soon as he left, Krista asked Pauline into her office, sharing the bad news. “I want a meeting with all department heads—including maintenance—as well as the mayor. Tell them it’s an emergency meeting. This afternoon, if possible.”

  “Will do.” Pauline nodded.

  “In the meantime, I’ll have a chat with the abatement contractor.”

  By two o’clock, Krista was presenting the problem to the department heads. She brought them up-to-date and shared copies of Owen Payne’s report. “And he’s promised to get me a bid for the work ASAP. He and his guys are down there right now.”

  “That was quick,” Mayor Barry said with a worried expression.

  “Well, they were already on it so it seemed a good idea.”

  “You’re only getting one bid?” Winston questioned her.

  “One for today. Certainly we’ll have others.” She nodded to Pauline, who was taking meeting notes. “You already contacted two other companies, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “The immediate concern is that it probably puts the kibosh on Christmasville down there,” Krista said.

  “But what if we get it all fixed by then?” the mayor asked.

  “The opening of the festival is just over a week away. I don’t see how it can possibly be fixed by then.”

  “Why not?” he persisted. “What if we got several teams working, all at once? I’ll bet they could get it cleared out in a day or two. Then the maintenance crew could get in there and put it back together in no time.”

  “That doesn’t sound realistic to me.” She turned to Jack Leland, the head of maintenance. “What do you think?”

  He slowly shook his head. “Doesn’t sound realistic to me either.”