Mary always enjoyed seeing miniature Christmas villages in store windows. Except this year.

As she surveyed the little ceramic houses and stores, the ice skating figurines, the snow-crusted pine trees and the electric train traveling along its oval track on the outskirts of the tiny town, it reminded her too much of Wahoo.

Small towns possessed an out-of-time quaintness, like this Christmas village that seemed frozen in the past, a three-dimensional photograph of happier, more innocent days. She missed seeing people on the street that she knew, and having store owners and mechanics call her by name. At 55,000 people, Wheaton was too big. Other than people from church and a few acquaintances she had made over the years, no one there knew her name. Like many of the suburbs, it tried to masquerade as a small town, but so many of its picturesque buildings were only a few years old, clever counterfeits froma simpler America.

Even as a small girl growing up on a farm outside town, she had thought Wahoo was a funny name. It was a word that characters in old black and white movies yelled when they were excited. Her father had told her it was a Dakota Sioux name meaning arrow wood. He wasn’t sure whether it described the purpleflowered bushes that grew wild in the area or cork elm trees, but he was positive it was an Indian expression.

After her parents’ funerals and she sold their house, Mary never went back. In a way, there was too much pain for her in Wahoo, so many places they had gone together. If she went back, she knew she’d be able to see her mother waiting on a downtown street corner, watching for their rusty green pickup truck to pick her up—an old, round-fendered model just like the one in this twinkling, snowcovered village.

Mary turned slowly from the store window, then put her gloved hand on the brick wall to steady herself. She was so tired. Her life had not turned out the way she expected. Next to her parents’ accidental deaths, this pregnancy was the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

She still struggled with guilt, although she knew in her heart that Jesus had forgiven her and loved her as much as before. Chicago, even Midwest Milling’s headquarters, was very different from the Omaha factory where she had started. People were more like family there. They laughed more, the plant’s supervisors weren’t so pretentious, and people looked out for each other.

As she walked toward the building where Midwest’s offices were housed on the eighth floor, she gave one last glance back to the decorated store window. That was me, she thought, of her life in Nebraska. The real me, not the me I am
today. Maybe some day I’ll work up the courage to do something about it.

“Earth to Mary!” someone shouted.

Mary looked to her right to see Jill approaching the building door from the other direction.

“Where were you just now?” Jill asked, smiling. “You looked like you were really gone somewhere. Nebraska, even.”

“Hi. Oh, I’ve just been feeling kind of down the past couple weeks. Too much forced holiday jolliness I think.”

“Boy, are you right about that. Every year it gets worse. All these parties they show on TV. Who’s going to all these parties anyway, besides a bunch of sitcom actors?”

“I like Christmas,” Mary asserted, almost embarrassed because she had told the truth about being depressed. “It’s just this particular Christmas I’m not looking forward to.”

“I know the feeling,” Jill said, suddenly grim. She held the door open for her friend and they both hurried across the lobby and found a spot in the crowded elevator.

Jill’s cheeks were pink from the cold. Mary had forgotten how pretty her friend was. Now Jill was wearing stylish black glasses instead of her usual contacts. Her dark hair was cut in a perky bob, and she had a quick, natural smile that
everyone liked. Why Jill had not been married yet was a constant mystery to Mary.

They got off the elevator and entered Midwest’s suite of offices through double glass doors. The company occupied nearly the entire eighth floor, with the exception of a small suite that housed an orthodontist and his staff. One of the secretaries was already clattering away on her keyboard. Mary double-checked the wall clock. It was still fifteen minutes before starting time.

“You’re getting at it early, Lucille,” Jill said.

That was something Mary liked about Jill. She treated everyone with equal respect.

“’Mornin’, ladies. Well you know, Jill, we got a two-dayer coming up, so I’m getting as much done ahead of time as I can. I don’t plan to come back here wiped out from partying and have a big ol’ honkin’ desk full of work staring me in the face.”

“That, Lucille, is an excellent bit of strategy,” Mary said, giving her a quick wink as she and Jill headed back through the labyrinth of cubicles to their own desks.

After they hung up their coats and returned to their desks, both women checked their telephone voice mail while they waited for their computers to boot up. Mary glanced over and noticed that Jill was making a call already, without listening to the rest of her messages. That was unusual. Mary assumed it must be something urgent.

Five minutes later, a visibly shaken Jill walked briskly down the hall to the women’s restroom. Mary got up and followed. When she pushed through the door, she found the room empty except for Jill holding on to a sink, gasping in
breaths.

“Jill! What’s the matter? Are you all right?” She shook her head, still fighting for breath. Mary got behind her, and put her hands on Jill’s shoulders. “You’re hyperventilating. Try to relax, slow your breathing.”

It didn’t work. Mary yanked a handful of brown paper towels from the dispenser and rapidly formed them into a sort of small tent. She put it up to Jill’s mouth and nose, got her to move her hands up and hold it in place herself.

“Okay. Breath into here. Slowly, steady. Through your nose. We want to get more carbon dioxide in your blood. Okay, that’s about a dozen breaths. Take the
towels away for a minute.”

Jill nodded. Her breath had slowly considerably and was calmer. Within a minute her breathing had returned to normal.

“What happened?” Mary asked. “What was that phone call about?”

“It was Dave Meade in the California plant. They’re scheduled to make Krunchy Krowns today, but the cartons didn’t come in.”

“Why not? Was there a problem with the printer?”

“I…I forgot to order them,” Jill blurted out.

Mary studied her friend for a moment. “It’s only six o’clock in California. What did Meade say?”

“He was pretty angry. We’ve been using just-in-time inventory until they get that warehouse addition finished in L.A. Since they don’t have enough storage space yet, the printer delivers the cartons and we get the box liners a day or two before we need them.”

Mary thought a moment. “Why didn’t he call you a day or two ago when the cartons didn’t show up on time?”

“I don’t know,” Jill said, suddenly wondering herself. “You’re right. That’s weird.”

“Does he have any other cartons on hand?”

“Well, he should. We’ve got enough storage room for boxes for some of our brands, but not all of them.”

“How about Cinnamon Poppers?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he should have enough box stock there to work for a couple days.”

Mary, who had worked in the Omaha plant and was more knowledgeable about the manufacturing processes, began to see what was happening.

“It’s Dave’s responsibility to make sure he’s got the boxes on hand. He’s not without blame in this, Jill. He should have called you a couple days ago instead of waiting on this. He dropped the ball too.”

“Please don’t tell Elizabeth about this, Mary. Please don’t. I could get fired.” Mary was shocked. “Jill, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re my friend.”

Jill looked at the floor. “I know you…Christians believe in always telling the truth.”

“Listen, Jill, Elizabeth doesn’t need to know about this. You can be darn sure that Dave Meade isn’t going to call her, because he’d get in trouble himself for not calling you when he should have.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Here’s what you do. You call the printer, get the Krunchy Krowns boxes ordered. Then you call Dave back. He knows he’s not clean on this, so don’t let him intimidate you. Tell him to make Cinnamon Poppers until the Krunchy Krowns cartons get there. The shapes of those two products are different so he’ll have to change the dies, but the gun-puffing process and ingredients are exactly the same, except for cinnamon, so he’ll have ingredients on hand. He’ll store the finished Cinnamon Poppers where he had the empty Poppers boxes, and the rest in empty trailers. We keep rotating production on all our products, so when

Poppers are up again, he can add that product to the next run. He’ll have to juggle his production schedule a little, but I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to do it to cover his own mistake.”

Jill’s hands were trembling. “I..I’ve been so worried about my debts that I completely dropped the ball on this, Mary. I’ve got all my deadlines written on my calendar and I have my computer set up to prompt me on them too. I just don’t know what happened.”

“Try to calm down, Jill. It’s going to be all right. You think Elizabeth never made a mistake in all her years at Midwest? After this is all over and California’s scheduling is back where it should be, you can tell her what happened and how you solved it, if you want, but if no harm is done, I don’t see any reason why you need to.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mary.”

“You’re a lot stronger and smarter than you give yourself credit for, Jill,” she replied, hugging her and gently patting her back. “Ready to get back to work?”

“Sure. I’ve got a call to make.”

Jill left the restroom first, then Mary followed a few feet behind. In the hall, they met Elizabeth. From the stern expression on her supervisor’s face, Mary knew that something was wrong.

“Mary. In my office. Now!” Elizabeth snapped.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10]

- Jack Zavada
©2006 by www.inspiration-for-singles.com

This a just a chapter of a free ebook entitled “Mary’s Christmas Gift” which can be downloaded from http://www.inspiration-for-singles.com/mary.html

Jack Zavada’s new ebook, Single and Sure, not only shows single people how to rescue themselves, but how to become a happier, more confident person in the process.