The Forever Gift Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Evanlea Publishing

  The Forever Gift

  A Forever Safe Christmas Romance

  By

  SIMONE EVANS

  The Forever Gift: A Forever Safe Christmas 5

  Copyright © 2019 Josette Schaber (as Simone Evans, Josette Reuel, Ella Rose)

  Cover design by Evanlea Publishing & Designs

  Proofreading and Edits: Evanlea Publishing & Designs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without permission in writing from Evanlea Publishing, Josette Schaber, or Simone Evans.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  This book is sold in print and electronic formats and is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book, when in electronic format, may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person or use proper retail channels to lend a copy. If you are reading this book in print or electronic format and did not purchase or borrow it through proper channels, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  **Disclaimer: Translations were completed using Google Translate and as such have not been verified. Poetic license has been exercised in regards to spelling and removal of language specific characters to facilitate the flow of the story. The use of these translations is to create a mood within the story. However, in many cases, names and dialog are fictional creations of the author and not meant to be translations of other languages.

  Published by Evanlea Publishing

  https://evanleapublishingdesigns.weebly.com/

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  A Forever Gift

  By Simone Evans

  Clara Wood grew up with her single mother in Nevada. It wasn’t until her mother died that Clara learned she still had a family — her grandmother out East in Holiday City, Ohio. Living life a day at a time, Clara is stuck in a dead-end job and a crap apartment, but at least her life is her own. So, when her grandmother begs her to visit, Clara claims she can’t miss work.

  Then, a little over a year after her mother’s death and nearing Christmas, Clara loses her job and is a week from being kicked from her apartment when her grandmother contacts her with a promise of a life-changing gift. The catch… she has to visit Holiday City. With hopes of a gift that could help her get back on her feet, Clara packs up everything of value and hits the road.

  Will a Christmas gift become a Forever filled with love?

  Dedication

  To family, friends, traditions, and the magic of the holidays.

  Chapter One

  “Get your fucking hands off of me,” I smacked my boss’s hands away from my ass. It had been like this since the first day I made the deal to work under-the-table for the male chauvinist pig.

  This time, Ronnie had cornered me in the back hallway when I went to find napkins to fill the containers out front. I’d always known he was a slimeball but for the past seven months, he’d paid me under-the-table and allowed me to keep my money away from the mother-grubbing assholes who had already taken all of my mother’s insurance money. Earning money off the books really helped to keep me off of the collection agencies’ lists — you couldn’t get anything from someone who had nothing. During the long process of my mom’s death, she’d racked up a lot of debt. Which meant I had a decent amount of my own, too. I would have given anything for my mom — but none of it had been enough.

  “Don’t be ungrateful, Clara,” Ronnie leered at my boobs. “I’ve been rubbing your back and now… now I think it’s time for you to rub mine.” He waggled his eyebrows and rubbed at his groin.

  “You're sick,” I snarled and tried to get past him.

  Ronnie took a step in front of the door to the front of the bar where we worked. It was a dive in a bad part of Vegas but putting up with guys pinching my ass allowed me to earn tips on top of the money Ronnie slid to me without the government knowing.

  Some rock version of a Christmas classic began to blare from the speakers and the vein in my forehead began to throb with more intensity. Fucking holiday season, I snarled to myself.

  I hated this time of the year. My mom had died around Thanksgiving a year ago. Not to mention that the several before that had been lacking in holiday cheer as she’d gotten worse.

  “Come on, hot stuff, just a little fun.” Ronnie moved toward me and I could feel as well as smell his horrible breath.

  “Look, pencil dick, if you don’t get the fuck away from me, then I’ll—”

  “Clara, Clara, Clara,” Ronnie tsked at me. “Just show me a bit of gratitude and you ca—”

  I didn’t give the shit-for-brains a chance to finish his vulgar statement. Instead, my knee found itself shoved into his groin with as much force as possible.

  “No one… and I mean no one touches me unless I say,” I spit into his red face as he gasped for breath and squealed like a pig.

  “You’re” — Ronnie panted as he forced the words past his lips — “fired!”

  “Fuck you! I quit!”

  **

  An hour later I was sitting at my tiny two-seater kitchen table. I stared at the wall as I groaned in defeat.

  “Fucking pig,” I snarled in frustration.

  Ronnie had refused to pay me the money he owed me. It was almost two weeks' worth, something over eighty hours I had worked — covering everyone else's call-offs — and he laughed in my face because I couldn’t do anything about it. There was no proof I even worked for the man.

  Friday would have been payday and I would have had enough money to pay my back rent along with this month's. Now I had a total of two hundred dollars to my name. It wasn’t enough and Mrs. Jenkins told me last month that if I didn’t catch up by this Friday she’d have no choice but to evict me.

  A year ago I had lost my mother to cancer. Merry-fucking-Christmas to me. She was all I had in the world and she’d been taken from me. But, it had taken six years for it to happen. Her illness began when I was in high school. Mom kept getting sick and lost a lot of weight. Then they’d found the lumps. Thankfully, mom had gotten the receptionist job before I started middle school so she had insurance. In the end, the insurance hadn’t been enough. The doctors hadn’t been enough. Six long years of pain and she was gone and I was left with the few belongings scattered around this crummy ass apartment.

  I sighed and dropped my head to the table.

  The opening chords to the chorus of “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen brought my head up from the table. The song had been put on my phone by my mom. She thought it was funny and it had gotten funnier to her the closer she got to the end. I never thought it was funny but couldn’t bring myself to change it.

  ‘Always smile, sweet pea. Never let anyone steal your shine.’ Mom’s final words to me before she’d fallen into the coma echoed in my mind as the song ended. The call had been sent to voicemail.

  “Another One Bites the Dust…” The son
g began again.

  I snatched up my cell phone and stared at the screen. A number I didn’t recognize was displayed… or…

  “Hello,” I replied softly after swiping my finger over the screen.

  “Clara?” A voice I’d only heard for the first time just under a year ago echoed from the device in my hand. “Are you there?”

  “Yes, this is Clara,” I replied out of habit.

  “Good. Hello, sweetheart.” My mom’s mother chuckled over the phone. “I never seem to be able to reach you.”

  “I’m sorry… I work a lot of hours,” I deflected.

  “You shouldn’t work so hard. Someone your age should have some fun. There’s plenty of time to work in your life.” My grandmother’s voice was kind as she lectured.

  “Someone has to pay the bills around here,” I replied coldly as frustration filled me.

  “I didn’t mean…” My grandmother sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I worry about you all the way out there in Sin City by yourself.”

  “Mrs. Wood, Vegas—”

  “Grandma or Ms. Amelia if you’d prefer. Mrs. Wood still makes me think of my mother-in-law and that woman was scary.” Amelia Wood laughed for several minutes.

  “Ms. Amelia, I’m sorry. But… Why are you calling?”

  A sigh echoed over the phone as the older woman sobered. “I want you to come out to Ohio for Christmas.”

  “It’s very kind of you to invite me but I have work—”

  “Clara Wood! You’ve been making excuses for months. Until a year ago I didn’t know what had happened to my own daughter and now I have a granddaughter. One who I haven’t gotten to know. That wasn’t my choice. Your mother made that choice when she ran away from home.”

  “She wanted to follow her dream,” I snapped.

  “Yes, and look how that turned out.” My grandmother’s voice changed and it sounded like the older woman was fighting back a sob. “I’m sorry. I just miss her. I’ve missed her for thirty years and now I’ll miss her until the good Lord allows us to be reunited.”

  “Look, I understand but…”

  “Please, Clara? Just come out for a few days. I have a present for you but you have to come here to get it,” my grandmother rambled off quickly.

  A gift? What type of gift would my grandmother not be able to ship? I wondered. Would it be something which could help my current situation?

  “I really can’t miss work…” Letting my voice fade I waited for my grandmother to take the bait — I needed to know whether this gift was worth driving across the United States.

  My insides squirmed at the shadiness of my thoughts. But when you’re down on your luck… you did what you had to do.

  “I promise it will be worth your time,” Amelia Wood insisted.

  It was as if she knew how shitty my life was. Or, maybe she was just desperate enough to bribe me to get me to visit her. Mom hadn’t shared a lot about her parents. In fact, she’d made it seem like they’d died. I couldn’t help but feel like there was a reason. Maybe...

  “I might be able to get a few days off” — I waited a few moments and then finished — “I’ll have to check with work.”

  “This gift is worth the trip. Life-changing even,” my mom’s mother’s voice sounded odd as she stated the last. “Just try to come.”

  “I’ll let you know, Ms. Amelia. That’s all I can promise right now.” Drumming my fingers on the table I nibbled my lower lip as I began to think about everything.

  “Alright, that’s all I can ask, sweetheart.” Someone yelled in the background. “Just a minute, Franny.” Mrs. Wood yelled back at the person before her voice lowered and she spoke to me again, “Your mama was all I had in this world after I lost your grandpa. Please try to come.”

  “I will let you know.” I couldn’t bring herself to commit one way or another.

  The gift could be some family heirloom which only had value to my grandmother for all I knew but, then again, stuff like that was often worth money. Maybe enough money for me to start over on the east coast.

  If the altercation with Ronnie taught me anything, it was that big cities had a lot of sharks who liked to eat the small fish. I didn’t want to continue being a small fish.

  Besides, my mom had often talked about her childhood Christmas’. I’d just never realized my grandparents were still around when she shared her stories over mugs of eggnog and hot cocoa. My mom had died thinking her parents didn’t love her. Maybe this was a chance to put some of that hurt behind us all. Maybe my grandmother still had some of my mom’s things from when she was young.

  What did I have to lose? Not much. Just the gas to get to Ohio.

  “I’ll do it!” I slap my palms to the table and push up from the hard kitchen chair.

  It was time to pack and then a quick stop at the Rainbow Market to gas up and load up on snacks, I’d need the fuel for myself and the car. Holiday City, Ohio was over a day's drive from Vegas.

  Scribbling a note on a scrap of paper, I slide my apartment key from my key ring and leave it on top of the note. Hopefully, I’ll be able to send Mrs. Jenkins the back rent soon. The woman had been generous and I didn’t want to leave her in the lurch.

  “Holiday City, here I come,” I yell as I turn to begin sorting through my stuff.

  Chapter Two

  My eyes were gritty as I glanced at my phone. My exit had to be up here somewhere. When I’d first programmed my GPS it had said the drive would take somewhere near twenty-eight hours to drive the two thousand or so miles. I was at least eight hours past that estimate thanks to miles of construction in every state I traveled through.

  I’d only allowed myself a few hours of sleep at a rest stop back in Kansas and now my eyes were so heavy and my head bobbed as I struggled to keep my car going straight on the Ohio Turnpike.

  “In one mile take the right lane to take the US-20 east, US-31 south ramp to Mishawaka/Plymouth.” The GPS’s feminine voice snapped my head up from where it had almost dropped to the steering wheel.

  “Please let there be a hotel. Please,” I begged as I continued to follow the female voice’s instructions.

  As I drove through a small town which seemed to be made up of hotels and gas stations I searched for a motel… a cheap place to stay.

  “Rainbow Motel?” I read the sign as it came up on my left. “Started at one end of the rainbow and ended at the other,” I chuckled at my joke as I remembered stopping at the Rainbow Market in Vegas before leaving my old life behind.

  I maneuvered my car around the curved driveway and parked in front of the lobby door.

  “Hell, at this point I’d stay at the Bates Motel,” I yawned as I climbed from my car to head inside.

  A cold breeze swirled around me and I shivered as my teeth began to chatter. I’d grown up in the desert. The temps would drop at night but Nevada was always pretty nice in general.

  “Winter,” I groaned as I realized I’d have to get used to living in it. “I could head to Florida after Christmas,” I grumbled while digging in my back seat for a jacket.

  Slipping on a heavy fleece I looked around what little I could see of Holiday City, Ohio. It wasn’t much but hopefully, it held my pot of gold.

  **

  A loud noise woke me. Damn loud neighbors. Snuggling into my blanket, I rolled deeper into my pillow. No way was I getting out of bed until my alarm went off.

  Memories of losing my job and driving almost all the way across America slammed into me and I shot up in bed.

  “Good morning, Dorothy... we’re not in Kansas anymore,” I whispered as I took in the worn but clean room I’d rented the night before.

  The motel room had taken a large chunk of my remaining money which meant I’d need to swallow my pride and see if my grandmother would allow me to stay with her. I’d also need to find a job before I could make any decisions on where the wind would take me from here.

  My wallet contained just enough to fill my tank and buy me something to eat.
/>   A loud rumble came from my stomach and I groaned. No way would I get back to sleep with how my hunger was gnawing at my stomach.

  Flipping back the covers I rolled from the mattress and headed out to my car. I needed to change and freshen up before checking out of the Rainbow Motel. I wished I could continue to stay… but when you’re broke you’re broke.

  Maybe Grandma Wood would be willing to lend me some money. I could spend the holiday with her then head out to Florida. There was little point in getting a job if I was only going to move in a few weeks.

  After dressing I reluctantly returned the room key to the lobby. I shivered as I looked up and down the street from beside my car. My stomach growled as if to tell me to get moving just as I saw a bright red and yellow sign — Angelo’s Pizzeria, Italian Home Cooking & Family Owned since 1959.

  Glancing at my phone showed it was just after eleven in the morning. The place should be open and a pizza sounded good. Hopefully, it was cheaper than the places around Vegas. I hadn’t been able to eat out much back in Nevada. Everything was priced for tourists around the city I grew up in.

  With a sigh, I got into my car and drove down the road while praying I’d have enough money. After I ate, I’d call my grandmother.

  **

  The warm scent of dough filled the air as I waited for the small cheese pizza I’d ordered. I would have loved to have had chicken and pineapple on it, but the toppings would have cost me another two dollars and I still hadn’t gotten gas. I sighed as I leaned forward and took a sip of my water.

  A man stood behind the counter tossing dough into the air. A tight black t-shirt with the restaurant's logo defined his muscular build. It really left nothing to the imagination. His jeans hung low on his hips as he stepped back to catch the dough.

  I chuckled as I watched him. He was singing along with the music playing over the speakers I could see attached to the corners where the kitchen transitioned into the front of the house of the restaurant. Watching the movement of his muscles under his clothes had me smiling in spite of the Christmas songs which normally pissed me off — reminding me of what I didn’t have.