Free Operation Christmas by Barbara Weitz Page A

needed a caffeine boost. She turned at the sound of soft footsteps scuffing along the floor. Oh brother, she did not need this so early in the morning.
    Grams entered the kitchen in her flowered housedress and scruffy old slippers. Ancient pink atrocities she wouldn’t throw out. Two pink rollers sat atop her head. “How come you’re still home?”
    “The Mini broke down last night.”
    “It never broke down when I took care of it.”
    “You never had to leave it out in sub-zero weather.” Or drive in bad weather.
    “You staying home?”
    “No. Mom’s coming.” Eventually.
    “Where’s my car?”
    “Jess’s. It wouldn’t start last night.”
    “How you getting to work?”
    “ Mom ,” Madeleine repeated with more irritation than necessary.
    Grams squinted at the wall clock. “She’s late.”
    The grinding sound of the garage door opener made her toss on her coat. “Gotta go.”
    “Tell Jess I’m sorry I got sick.”
    “You don’t look sick to me.”
    “Well I am...” Gram’s voice faded away as Madeleine closed the door that led into the garage. She hopped into the car. Her mother’s pinched face said it all. Christmas at the bakery had hit manic craziness. But really, why did her mom offer to drive her if it would wig her out. “Don’t stress, Mom. I’ll rent a car if it can’t be fixed today.”
    “Maybe the new battery’s a dud.”
    “I’ll have it checked.”
    “You should have called your dad.”
    “Jess is perfectly capable...oh forget it. I’m sorry. What more can I say?”
    Her mom flicked her hand. “It’s okay.”
    Well, that wasn’t true. However, Madeleine thought it best to button her lip. Her mother had enough pressure without them bickering, which didn’t stop her eyes from making periodic glances at the speedometer. Her next challenge would be her mother’s penchant for driving forty no matter the speed limit. At this rate, Madeleine figured she’d be thirty minutes late given the bad traffic. On past occasions when the Mini broke down, she’d only been five or ten minutes late.
    “I hate that song,” her mom snapped. Grandma got run over by a reindeer , beat through the radio speaker. “Would you find something else? I can’t search the radio and drive, too.”
    “Gladly.” Madeleine opened the center console and pulled out an oldies Christmas CD. Nat King Cole crooned Chestnuts roasting on an open fire... and suddenly, tension inside the car eased.
    “That’s better. Did you get all the cookie tins shipped?”
    “We did.”
    “Did you skip supper?”
    “No. Jess took me to Dickie’s. I thought I told you.”
    “I don’t know. Maybe you did. It’s Christmas. I’m on overload.”
    No argument there. The speedometer again drew her attention. Mom. Please. At least drive forty-five.
    Madeleine tuned her mind into Bing’s soothing voice and thought about the nice meal shared with Jess. That is once he resigned himself to the fact her mom would drive her to work—an obvious mistake.
    It hurt to see disappointment cloud his face. She worried Jess would see her continued rejection as a reaction to his arm. He would be so wrong. She liked the guy and would date him if things were different. How could she convey the love she still harbored for Danny made her refuse his efforts to get closer? That each step in a new direction took her further and further from the life she once loved. Besides, Jess might say he only wanted a few dates, but she sensed something more. Her mom pulled up to the door of Computers That Work. “At last,” she grumbled.
    “Don’t get sassy, young lady. I couldn’t help being late.”
    “You know Kurt has a fit if I’m late.”
    “He’ll understand.”
    Not wanting to waste another second in making her mom understand the immaturity of her boss, or his marital problems, Madeleine shut the car door to sprint for the office. She blew a forgiveness kiss before going inside, where she pulled up short seeing Kurt at her desk,