A Merry Little Christmas: A Pineridge Story

By Molly McGinty

Corrine Ferris, marketing manager for the Pineridge Grocery Store, has been asked to head a silent auction to raise money for a family who lost everything to a house fire. On her committee is Shannon Gates, laid up in bed with a broken leg and mother to the most handsome man Corrine has ever seen, Aidan Gates. Since Shannon is bedbound for sever

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Oct 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798887643045

Molly McGinty

Molly McGinty, author of the Pineridge series, works in a library by day and is happy to be surrounded by great books, great programs, and great people. A library advocate, devoted mother of five children and one daughter-in-law, she is grateful for all the love and support she receives from her parents, grandmother, and children.

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A Merry Little Christmas: A Pineridge Story

Copyright © 2022 Molly McGinty

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Stratton Press Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in the work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN (Paperback): 979-8-88764-303-8

ISBN (Ebook): 979-8-88764-304-5

Printed in the United States of America 

To Gran, who always encouraged me to follow my dream of becoming a writer. I am forever thankful for your teaching me to think happy thoughts, sit back and relax, and to never stop learning.

Love, Molly

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Corrine turned into the church’s parking lot. She was wearing her ugliest Christmas sweater, headband, and leggings with Narwhals wearing Santa hats. Nothing matched. She pulled into the handicap space, made sure her card that gave her permission to park there was hanging on her rearview mirror, and turned off the car. One of the perks of living in Pineridge was just about everyone knew everyone else. Everyone knew Corrine’s car, and if she forgot to hang the sign on the rearview mirror, no one gave her a hard time.

She hopped out of her car and went to the trunk to get her bag and the small cooler she had brought. She sighed when she saw the cooler had scooted to the very back of her trunk. There was no way she could reach it without climbing in. As a little person, who stood at four feet one inch, she couldn’t reach the back of her trunk while standing on the ground behind her car. But she needed the cooler. The only thing to do was try and boost herself into the trunk.

The cold Vermont winter had deposited a lot of snow on the ground, and while the church’s parking lot was well maintained, there was still a lot of hard-packed snow beneath her feet. She did not relish climbing into the trunk and then trying to hop out with all that snow beneath her. Not to mention that doing all this would probably make her clothes very dirty. It was an ugly sweater contest, not a dirty clothes contest, but there was nothing else she could do. She sighed and put her foot on the bumper. It was high, but she could reach it. She was just about to boost herself in when someone called from behind.

Hold on, let me help you, a man’s voice said.

Corrine turned around and saw a man jogging toward her. He was carrying a large baking dish in his hands.

If you wouldn’t mind, she said. I should have put the cooler into the back seat or something. I don’t know what I was thinking.

No worries, he said, reaching into the trunk and easily grabbing the cooler with one hand while holding the baking dish with the other. There we are, he said. He pulled the cooler out and held it. Let me carry it in for you, he said.

You don’t have to. I can carry it, Corrine said, pushing the button to lower the trunk. She didn’t like it when people thought she couldn’t do things for herself, just because of her smaller size.

If you want, but I don’t mind, he said.

She retrieved the cooler from his hand. Thanks for your help.

You’re welcome. He smiled.

The man was young. Probably older than her twenty-five years, but younger than thirty. He was extra tall. She would have guessed around six feet, but she wasn’t great a judging height. Everyone over seven years of age was taller than her. He was wearing a knit cap, but the hair that escaped out the sides and the back was dark brown. His smile was easy and friendly, and he looked familiar, although she couldn’t place his name. Overall, Corrine thought him an attractive man.

So are you joining the ladies’ club today? she asked as they walked to the large double doors of the church.

He laughed. No, I’m here on behalf of my mom. She broke her leg last week and still isn’t up to leaving her house. She wanted me to deliver this casserole. He opened one of the doors for her, and she went in with a thanks.

Your mom must be Shannon Gates, Corrine said. They entered the church foyer and turned to go down the hall to the church’s large activity room. She didn’t have to send food.

She insisted. He chuckled. I’m Aidan Gates.

Corrine Ferris, she replied and stuck out her hand to shake his. He took her hand in his and shook it firmly.

It’s nice to meet you, he said. They released their hands and went the rest of the way down the hall to the activity room. It looked as if most of the ladies’ group was there already.

Corrine’s mom, Brenda Ferris, was one of the members of the group, and she went to Corrine. She was wearing an olive-green sweater with colorful crafting pompoms in the shape of a Christmas tree sewn to the front of the sweater. Corrine had not seen that sweater before, but she was sure it would have to win the ugly sweater contest. Hello, we’ve got the food set up over there. She turned to Aidan. How’s your mom feeling?

She’s doing a bit better, Aidan answered. She’s very sorry she couldn’t make it today, but she said that the pastor has agreed to draw a name for her for the Secret Santa. She’s so excited.

Give her our love, Brenda said. We all miss her.

I’ll tell her, Aidan said. They went to the food table, and Aidan set his casserole down while Corrine unpacked two pies from her cooler. Well, I had better get going. I don’t want to crash the ladies’ club.

You’re welcome to stay. Brenda smiled.

He took a few steps back. Thank you, but I can’t. I’ve got some errands to run for mom.

Tell Shannon that I will bring her dish back to her later, Brenda said.

I will, Aidan said. You ladies have fun. It was nice to meet you, Corrine. Great sweater, by the way. He grinned and turned to leave.

Corrine only managed to smile and nod before he was gone.

He’s a handsome young man, isn’t he? Brenda said as she and Corrine went to pick two seats together at one of the tables.

Corrine nodded. Aidan Gates, she repeated his name and shook her head in disbelief. I didn’t recognize him.

You know him? Brenda asked. They sat down at a beautifully decorated table.

Did, back in high school. He was one of Spencer’s friends, remember? They played baseball together. Corrine adjusted herself in her chair. She hated the church’s event chairs. They were hard and uncomfortable for her shorter frame.

Oh yes, that’s right. I had forgotten, Brenda nodded and waved at one of the other ladies who had just walked in.

Spencer was Corrine’s older brother. He had been a school athlete and the favorite of so many of his teachers. He went on to college, played baseball on a scholarship, got a degree in education and sports education, and went on to become a college baseball coach. He got married three years ago, and he and his wife had given their parents two grandchildren. He was the perfect son. If Corrine didn’t love him so much, his perfection might have been annoying.

Corrine was about to say something more, when Mrs. Kelly Howard, president of the Good Book Ladies’ Society, stood up in front of the group.

Welcome, everyone, to our December meeting. And yes, I know it’s still November, but this was the only day that we could find for everyone to meet. I hope you all had nice Thanksgivings with your families. We’ll take care of a few items of business and then have lunch before the rest of our program. This is the biggest meeting of the year for us. We’ll be getting our secret Santas, voting on the ugliest sweater, and finalizing the program for the Christmas pageant before Pastor Duncan tells us about our service project. From what he tells me, it’s going to be a doozy, but also one of the most rewarding ones we’ve ever undertaken, so that’s very exciting.

There was a murmur of anticipation from all the ladies in the room.

The Good Book Ladies’ Society had started over a decade ago as a book club at the library. When it got too big for the tiny Pineridge Library, it had moved to the librarian’s home. But the monthly event kept growing in numbers, growing in the amount of food shared and shrinking in book discussion talk. After a few years, they dropped the book club and decided to have a Good Book club, where they read a few chapters from the Bible and then would eat and socialize.

It had remained that way for a long time, but there were more ladies than there was room for them at anyone’s house. The group moved to the church hall, because there wasn’t another space in all of Pineridge, except for the park, that could host all the ladies. The pastor had been delighted to have the group, especially once he convinced them to throw in a little service into their meetings. The ladies had taken it up with enthusiasm and now were a powerhouse of service in the Pineridge community.

Mrs. Kelly Howard went on. I spoke with Shannon Gates yesterday. She is doing well, but still in bed. It was quite the nasty fall she took, and she could be looking at surgery in the future. For now, she has her husband and son at home with her, taking care of her. She is in high spirits and is thankful for all the food, phone calls, and visits. She will be participating in our Secret Santa, and Pastor Duncan will be drawing a name on Shannon’s behalf.

I went to see her a few days ago, Corrine’s mom leaned over to her and whispered. Poor dear. She’s smiling, but you can see the pain in her eyes.

I can’t imagine how this must be for her, Corrine whispered back. She’s a lady who can never stop moving.

Brenda nodded.

If you are going to participate in the Secret Santa, make sure your name is in the Santa hat. Let’s take a few moments to read from the Good Book and then we’ll have grace and then food.

Mrs. Kelly invited one of the ladies up, who read her two favorite parables, and then she said a blessing on the food. Once the amens finished echoing through the hall, the sounds of chairs scraping on the floor were heard next as all the women stood and moved toward the buffet tables. Corrine and her mom went to put their name in the Santa hat first, then they joined the line for the food.

Corrine looked at the women as she waited her turn in line. There was Mrs. Pearson, Corrine’s sixth-grade history teacher; Mrs. Barry, a retired nurse; Mrs. Frye, who was one of the oldest women in their group and the former president of the ladies’ group; and Madame Morgan, who had taught just about every girl who had grown up in Pineridge for the last forty years how to dance. Corrine had taken five years of ballet class from the time she was seven until she was eleven years old. Corrine looked at each lady here and realized they had all impacted her life in one way or another. It was another perk of living in Pineridge. They were a tight-knit community, and everyone felt like family.

At twenty-five, Corrine was one of the younger ladies in the group. Some other ladies were also in their twenties, but they were all married and had a baby or two. This meant that every woman over the age of fifty thought they could give Corrine dating advice, even trying to set her up with their sons and in a few cases, their grandsons.

It wasn’t that Corrine was against marriage. She wanted to get married, but she hadn’t found anyone yet. Who wanted to marry a little person and live in Pineridge? Corrine had no desire to leave her hometown or live anywhere else. She had gone away for college in upstate New York, but she found she loved Pineridge best. She had a job at the local grocery store as their marketing director, and she had her own home. She didn’t want to leave, and so far, she hadn’t found anyone in Pineridge. It was probably the worst part of the small town. She knew every bachelor in the town, and there was no one she was interested in.

Still, the ladies of the group kept trying to get her married off. Corrine just politely smiled. She was glad when Mrs. Howard had stood up again.

Ladies? Hello, we’re going to start our meeting now. First, I want to thank all of you that brought food. Everything was so delicious.

There was a light smattering of applause. Corrine adjusted herself in her chair again. She was seriously thinking about going to the church’s foyer and dragging one of the couches in.

Now to the meat of our business. Brenda Ferris is going to help pass the Santa hat around so when it gets to you, reach in and pull out one name. If you get your own, just tell Brenda and draw again.

Corrine’s mom stood up and went to the Santa hat. She picked it up and walked to the first table. Corrine watched, but Mrs. Howard started again. This year’s Christmas pageant is nearly completed. You know the routine. Pastor Duncan has the speakers set up, and we have all of our music groups lined up.

Corrine’s smile was a little more forced now. The pageant had the same four people perform every year—a father/son singing duo, a teenage girl who had started singing in the pageant when she was ten, a female soloist, and a family with four music prodigy children who played as a stringed quartet. The youngest was seven now, and they had started playing since before she was big enough to hold an instrument. All the performers were excellent, and Corrine truly enjoyed each performance, although the teenage girl wasn’t quite as good as she had been as a child. Corrine just wished they would allow others the opportunity, but the ladies’ group, who had been picking the music for the pageant, wanted nothing else.

By now, her mom had arrived at their table with the Santa hat. Corrine reached in and pulled out a slip of paper. Holding it on her lap, just under the table, she looked down and opened the paper. Corrine smiled. It was Madame Amy Morgan, ballerina and Pineridge dance teacher.

As a child, Corrine had taken dance classes from Madame Morgan, the same as every other little girl in Pineridge. She had liked it but always felt a bit out of place. The wall of mirrors made her very aware of her body’s size and shape difference. Not that Madame Morgan or any of the girls ever made fun of her. She even had the part of Alice in the ballet for Alice in Wonderland. She had two solos and everything! But she had never truly felt comfortable, so had quit ballet when she entered middle school. Still, she had enjoyed it, and she had loved the kind and graceful Madame Morgan.

Corrine folded the paper back up and pushed it into a pocket. She looked around the room again at all the ladies, grateful to be among them.

The pastor stood up and came to the podium. Ladies, he said, Thank you for inviting me to your luncheon today. It was delicious, and I can’t remember when I was in a room with so many beautiful women. Usually, I’m stuck with a bunch of grumpy old deacons.

Everyone in the room let out a laugh, especially since most of the grumpy old deacons were married to the ladies in this room.

The pastor smiled and continued. We have a family in great need. Just outside of Pineridge, there is a family we don’t often see. Some of you might know the Sullivans, but I’m guessing most of you do not. They live on a farm, are quite self-sufficient, and the children are homeschooled. They are a kind, gentle family, but I recently found out that their home burned to the ground a week ago.

There was a gasp. Corrine knew of the Sullivans. She could even pick out Mrs. Sullivan in a crowd because she had pure white hair, even though she was probably in her thirties. Corrine had no idea why it was white. After first seeing Mrs. Sullivan’s white hair at the grocery store one day, Corrine had googled the possible causes, and there were so many, it was impossible to speculate.

Yes, Pastor Duncan went on, they have been staying with a neighbor for the last week. I spoke with them, and their insurance is going to drag their feet, I’m sure, but they should get enough to rebuild their home. The problem is, they will have nothing left to furnish their home, and for now, there are no clothes and no Christmas presents for the children.

Corrine’s heart ached for them. She couldn’t imagine if she suddenly lost everything she owned—all her clothes, all her books, kitchen appliances, her comfy couch where she liked to watch TV, her television, bed, toothbrush, even. It made her shudder to think about the feeling of loss. Of course, Corrine was lucky in that her parents lived close by. She always had a place to go, but what if you had no one except your neighbors? That would be very hard.

I am asking for your help, ladies. Help us to provide this family with a bit of Christmas and perhaps some household things to replace what they lost.

There was a lot of talking now. Ladies were nodding their heads and leaning in to speak with each other. Mrs. Howard stood up and went back to the podium.

Ladies, ladies, she called them back to order. Let’s start to think of ways we can raise money. Amy, will you take notes please? she asked the ballet teacher.

There was a nod and a scramble to get a pad of paper from her bag next to her.

One by one, Mrs. Howard called out to the ladies, who all had excellent ideas.

I say we forget about our Secret Santa and use that money to buy presents for the family.

Everyone agreed to that.

How about we host a dance? Everyone pays for a ticket. The money goes to the Sullivans.

That would cost too much money to put on. We might as well donate the money we would spend on a dance and give it to the Sullivans.

If we are going to ask people for money, it would be nice to give them something in return.

We could ask businesses to donate.

Corrine listened to all these and then she leaned toward her mom. Raise your hand for me, please?

Brenda nodded and raised her hand. When she was called on, Corrine waved her hand. It’s me, she said. I need to get me one of those auction signs to hold up. There was a chuckle from the ladies. But what about an auction? We could ask the local businesses to donate. That way, we get free items, and they get a tax write-off. More chuckles. Then we hold a silent auction. The money raised would go to the Sullivans, and we don’t have any debts to pay off.

But that means that only the winners are the ones donating money. We lose all those other bids and people who would have wanted to give, another lady protested.

Whatever we decide to do, Corrine said, there doesn’t have to be just one fundraiser.

Mrs. Howard nodded. I like the auction idea, but Corrine is right, that doesn’t have to be the only way we raise money.

The auction also doesn’t limit us to just Pineridge, Corrine said. If we reach out to the other towns and a few in Granville, we’ll have more interest. Pineridge is full of generous people, but there is only so much we can get out of Pineridge. If we open opportunities to others, we have the potential to make more.

Ladies around the tables were nodding and talking to each other.

Mrs. Frye stood up. She was so tiny in her age that standing didn’t put her much taller than she had been sitting down, but the movement of her caught everyone’s attention. Whatever else we do, she said, I motion that we hold a silent auction.

Corrine’s mom stood up. I second the motion.

Mrs. Howard looked surprised. Well then, I guess we will be having a silent auction. Corrine, will you chair the auction?

Corrine hadn’t meant to suddenly get so involved, but she found herself nodding. I will.

There was a round of applause. Thank you, Corrine, and thank you, ladies. If you want to help Corrine, speak with her so she can collect your names. Now are there any other ideas?

Corrine didn’t hear the rest of the meeting. Her mind was already in a whirl of thoughts and ideas. She reached for her bag and pulled out the little notebook she always carried with her. She started to write. What would they need? How would this work? What businesses could she approach? Well, her own grocery store, to start. She knew she could get a nice basket put together. She was the marketing director, which included public relations.

After the meeting adjourned and the women started to help put away chairs and tables and sweep the floor, Corrine was approached by two ladies wanting to help—Flora Hayes and Rebecca Michaels. Rebecca was in her early forties and had three teenagers, and Flora was closer to her mother’s age, with grown-up children.

Let’s meet soon, Rebecca said.

Is it all right if I start asking around for donations? Flora asked.

Yes. Corrine nodded. The more we can get now, the more we’ll have for our auction. We’ll need to start this soon.

If we want to get this done before Christmas, it’s going to take a lot of work, Rebecca agreed.

My son runs a smoothie shop in Granville, Flora said. Do you remember him, Corrine? she asked. His name is Ken. He went to school with you.

Corrine nodded slowly. I think he was a few years older than me.

Yes. He’s doing very well for himself at his business, but he got divorced last year. She sighed. It was sad, but his wife left him and got custody of the two children. It’s been rough. You should visit with him. Flora grinned at Corrine.

Corrine didn’t rise to the dating bait. I’m glad to hear he is doing well, Corrine said. If he can give us a certificate or coupon for some smoothies, I’m sure those would go over well at the auction. The last thing that Corrine wanted was to get set up on a date with Flora’s son. She hadn’t known Ken well in high school, but what she remembered was a very awkward guy who thought the girls loved him and was always trying to get dates.

You could ask him. Flora grinned and winked at her.

Corrine had to fight not to yell no! at the woman. It would probably be better if you asked him for the donation.

Flora nodded. Yes, perhaps so. All right. I’ll call him tonight. She smiled.

Sounds good. I’ll email everyone tonight about a time that we can all meet, Corrine said, and the other ladies nodded in agreement. Now if she could keep away from Flora trying to set her up on dates, she could tell that this auction was going to be great.

That afternoon, she went home and was happy to relax on her comfy couch. After sitting in those hard chairs at the church for the last couple of hours, she needed to lay down and let her body recover. Her body rested, but her mind did not. It was so full of ideas. She wrote and wrote in her notebook. Ideas, businesses, how would they collect the money? How would they keep track of the auction? With her phone, she researched online silent auction companies. They all had their own fees.

She did manage a nap in the afternoon. The late afternoon sun was an hour away from setting, and Corrine got up to putter around the house with cleaning. Her cat, Lady Kitty, came in and watched Corrine as she vacuumed the rug in the living room. When she was done, she sat on the newly cleaned rug, and Lady Kitty came and got into her lap.

Beautiful hairy cat. Corrine stroked. My vacuum is full thanks to you.

Lady Kitty purred. Corrine’s phone rang. She set the cat on the rug, which did not make Lady Kitty happy. Once she was free of the cat, Corrine ran to her phone and picked it up.

Hello? she said, not recognizing the phone number, but she could tell it was local.

Hello, Corrine, this is Shannon Gates.

Corrine smiled. Hello, Mrs. Gates, how are you doing?

I’m fine, thank you. My leg is sore, but I’m doing very well today. And please, call me Shannon.

Thank you. I enjoyed your casserole today. Aidan brought it by. It was good to see him, Corrine said, moving to sit down on the couch. She stepped onto the little stool and then stretched out on the couch.

Thank you. I’m glad it was good. I heard that you are organizing a silent auction.

Corrine chuckled. Yes, I am. I went from having an idea to being the organizer in about two seconds.

Shannon laughed. That’s the way volunteering works. When you find someone willing, you snatch them up. That being said, I want to help you. I’ve organized a few silent auctions before, and I would be happy to help you.

That’s very nice thank you, but with your experience, would you rather do it? Corrine asked.

Goodness no, I want to help you learn how to do it. Jumping in with both feet is the best way to learn, she said. But I can help. Would you like to come over to my house tomorrow for lunch? My husband and Aidan are going to church service in the morning, then they were going to grill burgers for lunch. You and I can talk, and we’ll let the guys handle the food.

Sounds great. I would love any help or direction you can provide, and hamburgers are my favorite, Corrine said.

Excellent. Come over any time after services are over, Shannon invited.

Corrine thanked her, and they hung up. She was so glad to have someone to talk to about this and maybe answer some of those questions that had flooded her mind since becoming the organizer.

Her mom called her shortly after.

Hey, Corrine. I went to see Shannon Gates this afternoon, and I told her about the auction. She said she’s done several and would like to help you, isn’t that wonderful? Brenda said.

I know, Mom. Corrine smiled. I just got off the phone with Mrs. Gates. I’m going to her house tomorrow to talk to her and have lunch.

Is Aidan going to be home? Brenda asked.

Yes, it seems that he and Mr. Gates are going to grill.

There was a laugh. Typical men. To grill when there is snow falling. I think Shannon’s trying to set you up with her son.

Mom! Corrine sighed in exasperation. She’s just invited me over to talk about the auction, which I was dumb enough to get myself into.

It’s a wonderful idea, Corrine. I’m glad you’re doing it. But you mark my words, she’s trying to set you up with her son.

Corrine rubbed at her head with one hand. She wouldn’t mind going out with Aidan. He had been cute in high school and was handsome now that he had grown into some of his features. But what would a tall, good-looking man like Aidan see in Corrine? Besides, more than likely, he was married, engaged, or attached to someone equally as beautiful as he was handsome. No, tomorrow’s lunch would be business and burgers.

Chapter 2

Sunday morning, Corrine woke up to a fresh layer of snow on the ground. She went out with her shovel and did her best to clear away the snow from her front walk and driveway. She threw down salt and went back in. She loved the snow from Thanksgiving through about February, but after that, she was done with snow. Unfortunately for her, snow in Vermont wasn’t gone until April or May, and Corrine could remember a handful of times when it had snowed in June.

Corrine joined her parents at church services. The church was filled with poinsettias, a tall Christmas tree, extra lights strung along the walls, and a nativity scene in one corner of the chapel. They sang Christmas songs, and everything just felt more festive and beautiful.

When the service was over, she visited with her parents and a few friends but was soon headed home to change and go for lunch at the Gateses’ home. She was hungry. She gathered her notebook of ideas and drove to the Gateses’. Aidan was the one who opened the door and let her in.

Hi, Corrine. Mom’s looking forward to seeing you. He let her into the house.

Hi, Aidan, good to see you again, she said. She looked up into his face. He was quite good-looking—very tall, dark hair, and facial hair that was more than a five o’clock shadow but less than a beard. It was nice looking. He wore comfortable jeans and a deep green polo shirt that fit him well. It wasn’t too loose or too tight. Just enough to look comfortable while still showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. His smile made his entire face look friendly and welcoming.

Corrine went in and started to remove her boots. She had special boots with spikes on the soles, which helped her walk in the snow and ice. She would wear the boots from her house to her car, where she would change into regular shoes. When she arrived, she would put the boots back on, go into wherever she was going, and change again. It was a pain most of the time, but she wouldn’t risk a fall in the snow because of improper footwear. Most people did something similar, so she