If anyone at the temp agency would have warned him when he took this assignment that there was even the slightest chance that twelve days before Christmas he’d be still in Star City, dressed like a dad straight out of a 1950s family sitcom, Nate would have turned the job down cold.
But if he hadn’t taken the job caring for Jesse Goodwin, he’d have missed out on so much. First and foremost, of course, getting to know a great kid and being able to make a difference in his life, however fleeting. Next, he’d have missed meeting all the great people of Star City, from the Goodwins to the parents and teachers at Jesse’s school to Addie McCoy.
He stood back and folded his arms over his gray suit jacket, courtesy of the costume department of the Star City Community Theater, to watch his counterpart at work. Somehow in the last five days she had managed to take the Christmas promotion in hand and spin it off in a whole new direction. With Web cams streaming live directly from inside Goodwin’s on a Web site set to go live in a matter of minutes, she’d already garnered attention from all over. It helped that she had found a way to connect the whole stunt to a worthy cause—raising money for Jesse’s school—and to get people engaged by turning the whole thing into a competition.
He took a leisurely stroll the length of the windows. At the far ends of each, Addie had hung signs that read His and Hers. Each side had been furnished with the trappings people associated with the life and times of a husband or wife circa 1959. “His” featured a desk and office furnishings. “Hers” had a kitchen complete with a sink, stove, fridge—a set also courtesy of the community theater—and a chrome-and-Formica table she’d brought from her own home. In a stroke of what he considered genius on Addie’s part, she had also arranged a sofa, an old television, a faux fireplace and a spot to set up a Christmas tree in the entryway just inside the store. It was a place that could be viewed from the door or, if you craned your neck just so, from the windows but was best seen by coming into Goodwin’s.
And that’s just what people were doing. Sales were up, though not breaking any records, but Maimie reported that foot traffic had almost doubled, and now that the promotion was going into full swing they expected that to grow considerably. Anyone looking at the goings-on today would think that the Goodwins themselves were responsible for all this. They were the ones front and center, and Maimie was going to be the one presenting everything at the launch and in any subsequent media contacts.
All of this made Nate smile. In part because he had believed Addie capable of all of this from the moment she rallied her nerve and kissed him that morning under the mistletoe. But he also couldn’t keep from celebrating privately because he knew that Addie had gotten what she wanted: success for Goodwin’s and a meaningful job behind the scenes and as part of a team.
He turned away from the small but energetic crowd gathering outside the still-closed doors of the old department store in time to see Addie walking toward him.
“Well, if it isn’t the little woman,” he said, smiling so big his cheeks hurt as she walked up to him in those simple heels she’d worn the day they met and one of the dresses she had found at a vintage-clothing store over in Gatlinburg. “I have to say, it looks good on you.”
“This old thing?” She swished the full, gathered skirt one way then another, giving a half turn, then dipping her chin and batting her eyes just like a starlet straight out of the 1950s.
“Not the outfit,” he said, coming to her side so that they could present a united front when the store doors opened. “All of this.” He extended his arm to indicate everything surrounding them. “The enthusiasm of the public, the appreciation of the Goodwins, the cooperation of the press. Success. Success looks good on you, Addie.”
“Thank you, Nate.” She practically beamed like a lighted angel on the top of a Christmas tree, but one quick look at him top to toes and it was like somebody pulled the plug. “You don’t really look all that different.”
“I tucked my hair behind my ears,” he protested, though not convincingly because she hadn’t told him anything he hadn’t already thought himself.
“Oh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” She gave his arm a pat. “It will give me an instant edge in the voting for who is making the transition to life in the fifties better.”
He hadn’t thought of that. Even though all the money collected would end up benefiting Jesse’s school, Nate had just enough of a competitive nature to want plenty of that money to have come from his supporters. If he had to go old school—literally—to accomplish that? He opened his mouth to tell her not to get too comfy in that assumption, but just then Maimie and Doc stepped up to the front door.
Addie fluffed her hair, smoothed down her skirt, squared her shoulders, wet her lips and through a perfect smile said, “Showtime!”
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Maimie raised her hands, commanding all eyes outside and in. “Welcome to Goodwin’s Department Store. Home for the next twelve days, excluding Sundays, of course, of Nathan and Adelaide Goodlife.”
As the small group applauded politely, Nate turned to his counterpart and whispered, “You know I’ve been so involved in taking care of Jesse and pitching in around here when I can, I never thought about the actual event. What are we going to do all day long?”
Outside Maimie raised her hands again, and the group, which had drifted from applause to foot-shuffling and mumbling, quieted.
Addie froze. “I’ve been so focused on the Web stuff and getting the word out that when Maimie said she’d take care of all of that, I left it to her.”
Nate’s stomach lurched as if it had actually taken a dive from the height of his admiration for Addie to the depths of his good-natured frustration in dealing with the formidable Mrs. Goodwin.
“The Goodlifes will be going through these next few days demonstrating life as we knew it way back when Goodwin’s first opened its doors, fifty years ago.”
He adjusted his tie, which suddenly felt much tighter around his throat than before, and muttered, “I have a bad feeling about this.”