A chance encounter on an airplane during a snowstorm a few days before Christmas brings two strangers together in ways they'd never imagine. Amy is on her way to a wedding in Hawaii, while Brian's on his annual holiday trip to his childhood home in Kansas City, Missouri. Planes are grounded and she has nowhere to go; her budget is limited. She tells him she plans to sleep in the airport until she can make her way to paradise and her friend's wedding. His solution? Come stay with my family in our enormous house. There's always room for one more. Amy agrees, but has no idea that she will run into his finicky mother, whose standards for anyone who accompanies her son to do anything are higher than the skies themselves. The intervention of a ghost, whose first mission was to return to earth to encourage her son to go to alcohol and drug rehabilitation, to take a side trip to Kansas City to sort things out.
A chance encounter on an airplane during a snowstorm a few days before Christmas brings two strangers together in ways they'd never imagine. Amy is on her way to a wedding in Hawaii, while Brian's on his annual holiday trip to his childhood home in Kansas City, Missouri. Planes are grounded and she has nowhere to go; her budget is limited. She tells him she plans to sleep in the airport until she can make her way to paradise and her friend's wedding. His solution? Come stay with my family in our enormous house. There's always room for one more. Amy agrees, but has no idea that she will run into his finicky mother, whose standards for anyone who accompanies her son to do anything are higher than the skies themselves. The intervention of a ghost, whose first mission was to return to earth to encourage her son to go to alcohol and drug rehabilitation, to take a side trip to Kansas City to sort things out.
The airplane wobbled in the snowstorm, what the captain called âa few bumpsâ when he came over the intercom. âDonât worry, folks, just a few more bumps and weâll be on the ground in Kansas City. No problems here. Weâve got a snowplow on the ground making things ready for us. Hang tight.â
Amy Moran was on her way from Boston to Honolulu. Her best friend, Cora, was getting married on Christmas Eve and Amy was âthe best woman.â She hated that âmaid of honorâ expression. She and Cora had known each other since they met during fourth grade choir at St. Benedictâs Church and had been through so much togetherâadolescence, applying for college, the guys they used to hang with, and so much more. Amy was overwhelmed when Cora asked her to be in the wedding, but now thisâthis snow! From what sheâd heard, this was one of the biggest storms Kansas City had seen at Christmas since meteorologists began keeping records.
She was somewhat comforted by this guy who sat next to her. Kansas City was his final destination. He lived in Boston, alone, having just moved into his own place after rooming with a bunch of guys heâd gone to college with. Brian Emerson. Kinda cute. Soft-spoken, blond guy with reddish sideburns and the same in his mustache. Heâd been talking to her ever since they left Boston, telling her about his family and what they did every Christmas.
Amy found everything fascinating. Her family celebrat- ed Christmas, yes, but hers was nothing like what Brian described. He talked about dressing up and attending elegant parties, people from the neighborhood singing Christmas carols door to door, going to midnight mass. He had two brothers and two sisters. He was the oldest son in the family; he had one older sister. She was pregnant with the child who would be his parentsâ first grandchild. He was ecstatic about the pros- pect of this new family member.
He and she talked in an easy way, as if theyâd known each other all their lives.
He told her he sang and played the guitar. Like Peter, Paul and Mary, and Gordon Lightfoot. Music like that. He didnât bring his guitar home, but his parents kept an older one at the house. He was looking forward to singing for his family and friends during Christmas. His parents also had a grand piano in their living room. Maybe someone would play that.
When the plane jerked mightily, she sighed, and he put his arm on hers. âDonât worry,â he said. âMy dadâs a pilot for this very airline. Pilots donât fly if they canât land the plane. Weâre almost there.â
She looked out the window and could see city lights. He was right.
She noticed another woman wearing a transparent blue-and-green scarf in the row across the aisle from them, comforting another anxious passenger. Amy and the scarf-woman made eye contact and smiled. Just in passing, but Amy was intrigued by her mysterious face.
After finally landing through the bumps, they walked down the jetway. Brian turned and asked, âAmy, where are you going to stay? Itâs obvious no planes will be leaving here tonight.â
She teared up a little. âI have no idea. I spent most of my money on airfare and hotel arrangements in Hawaii. I donât have much leftâjust enough for food and a little more. I canât call my family and ask for money. Iâll just sleep in the airport.â
He stopped and looked directly into her eyes. âMy parents have a huge house. Let me call them and see if I can make arrangements for you to stay with us until the weather clears out.â
âOh, no, Brian, I canât impose on your family. Not this close to Christmas. Your brothers and sisters will be thereâ and your sisterâs pregnantââ
âItâs no worry. We have seven bedrooms in our house and five bathrooms. If we donât have room for you, maybe one of the neighbors does. We live in a neighborhood where all the houses are enormous. The Emersons of the Enormous. Thatâs us. Let me call.â
âIâll take a trip to the ladiesâ room while you do that.â
He whipped out his cell phone and made a call. His moth- er answered.
âHello?â
âHello, Mother, itâs Brian.â
âBrian! We were so worried that your plane wouldnât get through this storm! Your father is waiting for you with the Jeep. Iâve been afraid theyâd close the roads before you get here.â
âNo worries, Mother. Iâm here. That is, weâre here.â âWe? Who is we?â
âWell, thatâs why Iâm calling. I sat next to this young woman from Boston on the plane. Sheâs on her way to Honolulu to be in her best friendâs wedding on Christmas Eve. The planes are grounded. She has nowhere to stay. She doesnât have a lot of money. Do you think we could put her up for a few days until the storm clears?â
âBrian, Brian, Brian! There you go again, picking up strays! What do you know about this girl? What kind of family does she come from?â
âI never asked. All I know is that sheâs a nice girl who needs a place to stay, and we have lots of room at our house, or maybe someone else in the neighborhood could offer a room. I just canât let her stay in the airport until it stops snowing.â
âWhy canât she stay in a hotel?â
âShe doesnât have a whole lot of extra money...â
âLike I said, picking up strays...Oh, okay, well, give me
some time to get another bed ready. Iâll talk to your sisters about where they want her to be so that we can get her settled when she gets here. And what did you say her name was? Or did you say?â
âI didnât. Her name is Amy Moran. Sheâs from Boston. Well, right outside of Boston. She seems nice, Mother. I donât think it will be much of an imposition. Weâll go get our luggage and meet Daddy outside. The Jeep, you say?â
âYes. The Mercedes doesnât have all-wheel drive. The Jeep is better in snow, you know.â
Amy made her way back. âOkay, Mother, weâll see you when we get there. Thank you. Bye.â
âBye, Brian.â
He turned back to Amy. âShe said itâs fine. We need to get our luggage and meet my father. He has his four-wheel-drive SUV. Heâs waiting outside. And let me warn youâhe flies an airplane better than he drives. Letâs go.â
Amy followed him to the baggage claim area. After all, he knew where he was going; she didnât.
Standing outside in the blizzard was a black Grand Cherokee and a tall, distinguished-looking man wielding a snow brush, involved in what seemed to be an impossible task: staying ahead of the falling snow. He went from the front to the side windows, brushing the white stuff away.
Brian was amazed that Amy only had one suitcase, especially since she was headed to a wedding. Heâd seen his sisters travel with two or three suitcases for a long weekend.
He spied his father working on the car. âDaddy! Here we are!â
His father pulled his wool hat down, took it off, and shook the snow off it. âBrian? And who is this lovely young lady with you?â
âDaddy, this is Amy. Sheâs stranded here in Kansas City in this blizzard. I called Mother and got her permission for Amy to stay with us until the storm clears. Sheâs on her way to Honolulu to be in a wedding.â
Amy stood on the curb with the snow blowing in her long, brown hair. Brianâs dad came over and picked up her suitcase. âThank you, Mr. Emerson. I appreciate you and your family letting me stay at your house.â
âMark. Call me Mark, not Mr. Emerson. Mr. Emerson is way too formal for me. Now, my wifeâsheâll want to be called Mrs. Emerson. You can save the formalities for her. We need to get out of this weather! Why donât you get in the car while I put the suitcases in back.â
âThank you, Mr.âI mean, Mark.â She opened the rear door and climbed into the back seat. Warmth. At last.
Brian opened the passenger-side door and his father took the wheel. âBuckle up,â he said. âWeâll have a while on the road before we get home.â
The main highway was practically empty as they made their way from the airport to what Brian had referred to as âEmerson Enormous.â The car skidded a few times on the way. Brian was right. His father drove way too fast for the conditions. Amy was content to be strapped in, warm, and have a place to stay.
As they made their way, she noticed an amazing lighting display on what appeared to be shops. âWhat is this, Brian?â
âThat? Oh, thatâs the famous Country Club Plaza,â he replied. âEvery year itâs decorated like this. Isnât it wonderful?â He explained it was supposed to look like the Plaza in Seville, Spain, with glittering lights dancing on every building.
The white lights outlined every building and fountain, glistening through the snowflakes. âItâs gorgeous,â she said. âBreathtaking.â
âIn the summer, Kansas City has many fountains, including some here, that complete the feeling of being in Spain. But of course, they donât flow in the winter,â he explained.
They pulled into the snow-covered driveway of what was, indeed, a gigantic house, splendidly decorated. White lights punctuated by red bows on the windows, green wreaths and garlands on the porch railings.
âWow,â she said to herself. âThis canât be where Iâm staying.â âHome, sweet home,â Brian declared.
âWelcome home, son,â his father said. âAnd welcome to our home for as long as youâre here, Amy.â
âThank you, Mr.â Mark. This is so nice of you and your family.â
âSo glad to help. Come on in.â
Inside the house looked like the winter wonderlands sheâd seen at Jordan Marsh in downtown Boston when she was a child. Garlands perfectly placed on the fireplace mantel with candles and red bows, holly centerpieces on the dining room table created by the best florist in town, and one of the most beautiful nativity sets sheâd ever seen: hand-carved statues of the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, the baby Jesus, the wise men, angels, and all the farm animals in a hand-hewn replica of the stable in Bethlehem with a banner on top read- ing âRejoice!â
Amy had never been in a house like this before. She felt as if sheâd stepped inside a magazine photo. Or a castle. Everything was perfect.
Brianâs mother descended the stairs wearing a stunning, black-velvet skirt and shimmering, gold blouse. Amy was taken not only by the outfit but also by how striking she was. She looked too young to have a child Brianâs age, much less to be expecting a grandchild. Her hair was perfect, her make-up impeccable. She emitted just a hint of expensive Parisian perfume.
Amy stood there, still wearing her winter coat.
âBriâANNâwhom do I have the pleasure of meeting?â she asked.
Brian rushed over. âOh, Mother, this is Amy Moran from Boston. Sheâs the one I mentioned on the phone. She will be staying with us for a few days.â
âI see.â Mrs. Emerson looked Amy up and down. âHmph. Well, you might have the good manners to take her coat first and then take her up to the blue room. Thatâs where sheâll be staying.â
âAmy, this is my mother, Mrs. Emerson.â
Amy didnât know if she should curtsy as if meeting the Queen of England, or if she should reach out her hand. âNice to meet you, Mrs. Emerson,â she replied.
âOh, the pleasure is all mine, Iâm sure,â Mrs. Emerson sarcastically replied, reaching out her hand. When Amy gave her own hand in response, Mrs. Emerson barely touched it.
Amy didnât know what to think. She smiled weakly.
Brian took her coat to the hall closet. Then he took her by the arm and directed her to the stairway. âCâmon, Amy, let me show you where your room is. It has its own bathroom.â
âUh, what? A private bathroom?â
âYes, Mother always wants the girls to have their own bathrooms. My brothers and I have what they call a Jack-and- Jill bathroomâjoined in between our rooms. Itâs kind of like living in a dorm. But Iâm not home much, so itâs not much of an inconvenience for me.â
âWhen I lived in a dorm, we all had to run down the hall to use the bathroom,â she replied, âso having a private bath- room will be a new experience for me.â
âEnjoy it while you can,â Brian said.
On the landing, one of his sisters was coming down the stairs. âHey, Chris, this is Amy. Sheâs going to be staying with us for a couple of days.â
âOh, hi, Amy. Iâll be in the room next to you if you need anything. Glad to meet you.â Chris bounded down the stairs and headed to the kitchen.
âSheâs my younger sister,â Brian explained. âSheâs about ten years younger than me.â
âThen I take it sheâs not the pregnant one,â Amy laughed.
âUhhhâno. That would be Kathleen. She and her husband, Eric, are down the hall in the other bedroomâthe green room.â
âOkay. I think I need a scorecard here. Chris and Kathleen are your sisters. Your father is Mark; your mother is Mrs. Emerson. And your brothers?â
âThomas was born after me, and the youngest brother is Paul. Does that complete your scorecard?â
âBirth order? Kathleen; then you, Brian; then Thomas; then Paul; then Chris? And Kathleen is married to Eric?â
âYouâve got it. Youâre a quick study.â
He brought her luggage into the room, which had a suitcase rack waitingâone like sheâd expect to see in a hotel room. The âblue roomâ had aquamarine wallpaper tinged with gold brocade fiber. The bedspread matched the wallpaper, as did the curtains. This was more luxury than sheâd ever seen in her twenty-four years on the planet.
âThanks again, Brian. Is there anything I can do to help anyone with Christmas preparations?â
âOh, no, Mother has everything under control. At least, thatâs what she tells us.â
He plunked down on the bed as she flipped open her suitcase and began emptying her belongings.
âSo, Amy, you play the guitar too, you said?â
âA little...but mostly I sing.â
âThen youâll be ready when we whip out the Christmas carols?â
âOf course. Will we be going door to door like how you were explaining on the plane?â
âMaybe. Depends on the weather, I guess. But definitely, weâll gather around the piano in the parlor and sing. Maybe even later tonight. Although itâs late. I have to get my âhouse guitarâ out here. Probably need to change the strings. Itâs been a while since itâs been played.â
âProbably a good idea. Changing strings, I mean. Somehow, Brian, I donât think your mother would be happy with your being in this room with me with the door closed. Somehow, I get the impression sheâs old-fashioned, and I donât want to give her the wrong idea. Iâm just here because of the storm.â
âOf course. Of course.â He stood up, smoothed out the bedspread, and went to the door. âIf you need anything, Iâll be next door. Just knock. Chris is on the other side. If you need anything in the kitchen, let me know. Iâll get that for you, too. We can go watch TV in the family room, if youâd like.â
âMaybe. Give me about half an hour to get settled and check back with me. And Brianââ
âYeah?â
âThanks again.â
Amy surveyed the room again. She thought about her parentsâ house. It would fit into this place two or three times. When her family moved into it, they thought it was luxurious because it had a bath and a half! Her dad collected antique motorcycles and cars and built a barn for those in the backyard. Neither of her parents had graduated from high school. She was the first one in her family to go to college. These people were soâsophisticated. How was she supposed to act? She had one pair of dressy black slacks and two fancy blouses. The rest of her suitcase was filled with an extra pair of jeans, underwear, a bathing suit, two pairs of shorts for the beach at Waikiki, T-shirts, a few toiletries, and her gift for Cora and her soon-to-be husband. Cora had the maid-of-honor dress sheâd be wearing in the wedding waiting for her in Honolulu.
That meant she had no clothing appropriate for this house. This family. Brianâs mother. Mrs. Emerson.
She heard a knock on the door.
âCome on in.â
âHi,â said Chris. âThought you could use some company. Guess youâve met Mother.â
âYes. She seems kind ofâformal. I donât have any clothes with me that seem appropriate for what may be happening for Christmas, like fancy dinners or anything else. It seems sheâll be upset if I were to show up wearing slacks and a blouse. Let me show you what I have.â
She pulled out the outfit she planned to wear to dinner.
âYouâre right,â Chris said. âThat wonât do. Letâs go âshoppingâ in my closet. We might find something.â
They walked down the hall. Amy could tell she was a couple of sizes larger than Chris, but maybe Chris had a loose-fitting dress she could try. And shoes. Sheâd need shoes if she expected to wear a dress.
Chrisâs room contained a huge walk-in closet filled with enough clothes to fill an entire boutique. She started flipping through the hangers. âNo, no, not this one...Maybe...No, no...Ah, ha, this has possibilities.â She pulled out a few things. âAmy, letâs try these. I think they may work.â
Amy looked at a few really frilly pieces. One, though, wasnât quite as flouncy as the others. It was light blue, loose-fitting, with long sleeves and a scoop neck. She picked that one up and asked to try it.
âGood choice,â Chris agreed, while pointing her to a three-panel, Chinese screen in the closet. âYou can try it on behind that.â
Amy hadnât ever seen anything like that in the closets of her friends on the South Shoreâa screen behind which you could try on clothesâbut she followed Chrisâs directions and tried on the dress.
Miraculously, it fit. It was a little snug in the right sleeve, but sheâd expected that because she carried her guitar around Boston all the time with her right arm. She asked Chris for help with the zipper.
âThis looks great, Amy. You have good taste. Iâve never worn this one. Mother will be pleased.â
âDo you think sheâll know itâs yours? And do you think I need to iron this before I wear it? It looks a little wrinkled.â
âIâll go get the ironing board. Iâve never ironed anything. Do you know how?â
âUhâyes, I do. Sure. Do you want to bring it in here?â
âThereâs room here in the closet. Mother wonât know.âÂ
Why would she care if her mother knew we were ironing the dress?
Chris ran into Paul at the foot of the stairs. He carried the ironing board into Chrisâs closet and set it up.
âHey Paul, this is Amy Moran,â Chris said. âBrian met her at the airport when she was stranded because of the storm. Sheâs staying in the blue room with us. Sheâs on her way to Honolulu.â
âNice to meet you, Amy. Iâm sure weâll see more of you when Brian whips out his guitar and starts singing Christmas carols later tonight.â
âNice to meet you as well, Paul. I was so fortunate that your parents allowed me to stay here until the weather clears up. Iâm supposed to be in a wedding in Hawaii.â
âSure beats being stranded in Kansas City in a blizzard. Whoâs getting married?â he asked.
âCora, my best friend from home,â Amy replied. âWeâve known each other since the fourth grade. Sheâs marrying a guy whoâs a marine biologist out there.â
âSay, Amy, you told me you know how to work this iron thing,â Chris interrupted. âLetâs get this done before Mother sees us ironing.â
âYes, letâs do it. Nice to meet you, Paul.â
âSame here,â Paul said, as he disappeared out the door. Amy got some water in a cup and poured it into the iron.
She waited for the steam to rise out of the appliance and began ironing the wrinkles from the dress, carefully pressing so that the iron didnât get too hot and burn the fabric.
âWow, youâre good at this. Iâve never ironed anything in my life,â Chris said.
âWho does your ironing? Your mother?â
âNot on your life! We have a woman who comes in a few times a week who does the cleaning, the laundry, the ironing, and stuff. She lives in the âother part of town,â if you know what I mean.â
Amy sighed as she finished. Yes, I know what you mean. The other side of the tracks. Like where people like me come from. Just as she was putting the dress on the hanger, Mrs. Emerson poked her head into the closet.
âWhat are you two doing here? Conspiring?â Mrs. Emerson asked.
âOh, no, Mother, Amy and I were just looking for some dressy clothes for her. She didnât have any with her,â Chris explained.
When Mrs. Emerson spied the ironing board, she screamed, âAnd what is THAT contraption doing here?â
âAmy had to iron the wrinkles from the dress I had hanging up,â Chris said. âIt looks great, donât you think?â
âChris, dear, we donât do that kind of domestic chore in this house. You know that. We have people who do that for us. We would have had Hazel do that for you tomorrow. You know she comes on Wednesdays.â
Amy felt her face flush. Yes, she knew how to iron. Her family didnât have people to do domestic chores; they did them themselves. Laundry, ironing, dusting, cleaning floors, vacuuming, washing dishesâthat was what they did, not hired help.
âIâm sorry, Mrs. Emerson, it just made sense that I did it myself,â Amy explained. âIâve done my familyâs ironing since I was in sixth grade.â
âI bet you have, young lady. Do you take in ironing for other people as well?â
âMOTHER!â Chris admonished. âShe was trying to help.â
âNot the kind of help I need right now, Chris,â Mrs. Emerson said, as she stomped down the stairs.
âDonât let her get to you, Amy,â Chris said. âShe gets really stressed during Christmas.â
Amy felt tears come to her eyes. âIâm sorry, Chris. Iâm just so used to doing everything myself.â
They heard a big ruckus downstairs.
âI NEED THIS NOW LIKE I NEED A HOLE IN THE HEAD!â Mark Emerson screamed.
âUh-oh,â Chris said. âThatâs Daddy. He doesnât lose it much. Gotta go see whatâs up.â
âTHIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR THE BLASTED DISHWASHER TO DIE!!!â Mark said. âWhere am I going to get a new one in a snowstorm two days before Christmas? And whoâs going to install it?â
Paul and Thomas werenât far behind Chris and Amy. Eric came down and asked Mark to keep the noise down because Kathleen was trying to take a nap.
âIf you can get one, weâll help you put it in,â Brian said. âI mean, how hard can it be? We can follow directions.â
How hard can it be? These people have servants, for crying out loud. Now they want to install a dishwasher? This Iâve got to see! Amy thought.
Everyoneâincluding Amyâhuddled in the kitchen. Mark was furiously calling appliance stores, trying to locate a replacement.
âYes...Iâll hold...Yes...Thatâs the brand I need...No, I CANâT wait three weeks! I have my whole family here right now! I need it today or tomorrow! I have a houseful of people! Do you have any ideas where I might find one? Yes, Iâll hold while you call your other stores...â
Chris leaned in and whispered to Amy, âEven if he has to drive to Wichita in this weather, heâll do it.â
âOverland Park? You have one in Overland Park? Thatâs a miracle! What do I have to do to make sure they donât sell it to someone else? Yes...Yes, Iâve been a customer of your store for about thirty years...Yes, I will trust that it doesnât get sold to anyone else...E-M-E-R-S-O-N. Thatâs âNâ as in Nancy... Right. Iâm leaving right now. I have the address from the phone book. Iâm on my way!â
He turned to the assembled entourage. âGood news! All I have to do is figure out how to get to Overland Park in this mess. Anyone want to have an adventure with me? Iâll have to take the back seat out of the Jeep.â
âIâm game,â Thomas replied. âI have nothing else to do.â
âGood! Get your coat and boots and some utility gloves, son. This wonât be easy. At least weâll have ballast in the back of the SUV.â
Both took off like a shot to get their winter clothing.
Amy was glad Brian wasnât going. She didnât want him to leave her alone in this house. Not with his mother.
âMaybe Paul, Eric, and I can figure out how to get the old one out while theyâre gone,â Brian announced. âHave to turn the water off to the kitchen and pull the old girl out so that we can install the new one when Daddy and Thomas get back.â
âHave you ever done any plumbing?â Amy asked.
âNot much,â Brian responded. âHow about you?â
âA little. Letâs go down in the basement and look at the pipes.â
Brian shrugged as Paul and Eric rolled their eyes. What would a girl know about plumbing, anyway?
As they descended the basement steps, Amy noticed the family had stockpiled food and water in the corner. She didnât say anything, but Brian caught the look on her face.
âThat? Thatâs Daddyâs provisions in case we have a tornado or something. Itâs mostly cereal and dried stuff,â Brian said. âSometimes I think heâs preparing for World War III or the invasion of the Zombies. His father kept the same kind of thingâhe grew up during the Depressionâand I think Daddy picked that up from Grandpa. Itâs kind of in his DNA.â
âTornadoes? You have tornadoes here?â
âYup. Weâre in whatâs called âTornado Alleyâ here in the Midwest. Havenât you ever seen The Wizard of Oz? Dorothywas from Kansas. Kansas City is half in Missouri, half in Kansas.â
âYou know us New Englanders. Our geography of the Midwest isnât too good. Have you seen that old New Yorker cover where the United States map ends at the New York border, then it says, âsome plains states,â and picks up again at California?â
âNo, but thatâs pretty funny. Hereâs the water supply to the kitchen.â
âBrian, how old is this house?â
âMmm...I donât know, exactly. Why?â
âYou still have steel pipes. You should have copper or plastic piping. All your water pipes in this house need to be replaced.â
âHow do you know this?â
âMy brother back home is a plumber. Sometimes I went with him when I was a teenager and picked up a lot of information from him. He makes more money than a doctor, I swear!â
âWell, for now, we just need to shut the water off so that we can remove the old dishwasher. Deal?â
âSure...But these old pipes may not accommodate the new dishwasher. I hope they get the correct fittings and fixtures to hook up the new one. By the way, I hope you have a few toolsâespecially an adjustable wrench.â
âLetâs go over to Daddyâs pile and see whatâs in it.â
âHis âpile?â Doesnât he have a toolbox?â
âSome days he puts stuff back in the toolbox, some days the tools end up in his pile. Weâll look in the toolbox first.â Amy opened the toolbox and discovered it was almost empty. She found an assortment of screwdrivers, including two Phillips-heads of the same size and seven or eight slot-heads. And thenâthe âpile.â She dug through and found several wrenches. âFinally! An adjustable wrench! We may be in business!â
She handed the tools to Brian and off they went to show their treasures to Paul and Eric.
âHey, guys, what do you know? Amyâs brother is a plumber, and she knows something about this stuff!â
âSure beats anything I know!â Paul said.
âIâm a college professor, not a plumber!â Eric chimed in. âIâd probably make a whole lot more money if I were a plumber.â
âTrue,â Brian said. âAmy even knows what an adjustable wrench is!â
The four of them shared a laugh. Mrs. Emerson, in the kitchen doorway, was not amused.
âHow can someone be a âladyâ if she gets her hands dirty with plumbing jobs?â she asked, looking directly at Amy.
âCome on, Mother. We need help. These skills come in handy,â Brian said in Amyâs defense.
âThey come in handy for men, Brian, not for ladies.â
Amy sunk into the floor. She again felt that trying to be helpful would never please this woman. Good thing sheâd be off to Waikiki in a couple of days.
Amy directed Brian, Eric, and Paul about how to pull out the old dishwasher so that it wouldnât leave marks on the kitchen floor by using old newspaper underneath. Then she showed them how to drain any water that might have been left inside. The old one left some water trails on the newspaper. They brought it out through the garage and pushed it into a snowbank.
âWhat can we make of this thing? Some kind of appliance snow sculpture?â Paul asked. âAny ideas?â
âWith all the tubes hanging out of it, maybe a spaceship would work?â Eric replied.
âThat would work. Letâs do it.â
Paul and Eric stayed outside and worked on their creation while Amy and Brian capped off the pipes to the basement to minimize possible leaks. They talked and laughed about the situation.
Amy told Brian that sheâd gone to college for two years full-time but that sheâd run out of money. She explained that sheâd gotten a job at MIT to pay her bills and was finishing her degree at Northeastern University at night.
Brian attended private high school in Kansas City and graduated from Boston College. Heâd been a National Merit Scholar and earned several scholarships to attend. He was working in Boston at a not-for-profit organization, working with the homeless and rehabilitating drug addicts and alcoholics. Heâd been playing the guitar and singing since high school. His mother wasnât too keen on either his musical choices or his job. âIâll never make a lot of money working in the not-for-profit world,â he admitted. âBut itâs the right thing to do.â
Doing the right thing. Thatâs whatâs missing in this world. A lot. Someone who comes from money yet wants to do the right thing. Wow.
They heard the snow crunch of a car coming up the driveway. Thomas and Mr. Emerson were back with the new dishwasher. Theyâd need help getting it out of the Jeep. Thomas poked his head into the garage door. âHey! Whoâs in here? Get your winter coats and boots on and help us get this beast out!â
Brian ran up the basement steps. âIâll be right there!â he said, running for the closet and his winter duds. Amy followed close behind and headed to the closet as well.
âWhat do you think youâre doing, young lady? You think youâre going to help us get this thing in here?â
âOf course I am! Why wouldnât I?â
âWell, for one thing, Daddy will be pulling the macho man on this one, and heâll not want you to strain yourself on this. At least you can hold the doors open.â
âOkay, thatâs what Iâll do, then.â She pulled on her boots and scarf, thinking it would be much better if she were in Hawaii. Or would it?
The three Emersons grunted and groaned to get the appliance into the garage, then removed the protective cardboard covering. The shiny, silver front had a piece of plastic film covering the front to prevent scratches during installation. They pushed it into the kitchen to fit the space occupied by the previous dishwasher.
âDonât scratch my floor!â Mrs. Emerson commanded. âWe have many guests coming during the holidays, and I donât need a scratched floor in the kitchen!â
âWe know, Mother, we know.â Thomas rolled his eyes.
âDonât you roll those eyes at me, Thomas Emerson,â she said. âI always know when you do that.â
Thomas looked down at the floor, conceding she was right.
They forced the new appliance to fit into the space, but it took a lot of wiggling and persuading. Amy watched as they connected the pipes and fittings, as well as the electrical cord.
âTime to go to the basement and turn the water back on,â she said. âWhat do you think, Mark? Are you ready?â
âAs ready as weâre going to be, Iâd say.â
Amy and Brian headed down the basement steps. She went over to a valve and turned the water back on. âThere! Letâs go test this beast!â
They went upstairs and said almost in unison, âLet her roll!â
Mark switched on the dishwasher and it began purring as water flowed in.
âAmy, you helped us make sure we could have Christmas dinner without having to wash all our dishes by hand! Good work!â Brianâs dad said.
âOh, thank you so much, but itâs not really a miracle. Itâs stuff I learned from my brother..â
âDad, how are the roads?â Brian asked.
âBetter, but I donât know how the flights are doing. Iâll call my friend in air traffic control and check out whatâs happening.â
âThat would be great.â
Brianâs mother watched Amy out of the corner of her eye, as if she expected Amy to steal something, anything, from the house. She didnât want to let this stranger, this plumber wannabe, out of her sight.
While flying to Hawaii for her best friendâs wedding, Amy enjoys talking to her seatmate, Brian, who is also from Boston. As they come into Kansas City, they hit a snowstorm and some turbulence, and Amy finds herself stranded, with her connecting flight cancelled and no other flights available due to the weather. Brian invites her to stay with his family, and upon arriving at the family mansion, a far cry from Amyâs own upbringing, the real adventure begins.
Amy and Brian are both likable characters, and I enjoyed their easy banter and how well they seemed to mesh. His family all welcome Amy, except his mother, who looks down her nose and at times is downright rude. Brianâs father is charming, and his siblings seem like a fun bunch to be around. The contrast between how Brianâs family live and how Amy lives is very well defined, and Amyâs internal monologues give us a good glimpse inside her head as she revels in Brianâs attention while at the same time feeling nervous about a possible relationship with him, and even more so with his mother.
All good things must come to an end, and once the planes start flying again Amy heads home to Boston. And thatâs when the cray cray begins. Mrs. Emerson, who didnât bother to hide her feelings about Amy to her face, begins to harrass her by phone, determined to prevent a real relationship from forming. She was a bit over the top to begin with, but it ramped up and up as the story progressed. Maybe there are people out there like her, but she was almost a caricature at times with some of her threats (seriously, lady, you have no legal grounds to get a restraining order to keep someone away from your adult son). Amy stressed quite a bit about Mrs. Emerson, and at times I wanted to tell her to chill out and just ignore her. To Amy, the thought of ever having Mrs. Emerson as a mother-in-law was horrid, and she actually seemed to consider throwing away the chance of a relationship to avoid the other woman, which horrified me a little.
When the ghost was introduced I was momentarily thrown, having forgotten that part of the synopsis. But it made a nice change of pace, and the sections of the story about Jeffrey, the ghostâs son who begins rehab at the non-profit facility Brian runs, were especially poignant. I would have liked to have seen even more of him.
But back to Amy and Brian. While I liked both of them, their characters could have been fleshed out just a little more. Regardless, I enjoyed watching them navigate the âbumpsâ in their relationship. I was never quite sure what direction the story would take, which is a good thing.
All in all, this is a sweet, light little romance, occasionally veering a bit deeper, and culminating in a feel good ending.Â