“I thought so. Okay, I’m going to go and get ready for bed.” He enunciated each word as if reading a line of dialogue from an unfamiliar play.
Jake winked at Holly. “Pucker up, sweetheart,” he said, doing a recognizable imitation of Humphrey Bogart.
Holly rolled her eyes and clasped her hands prayerfully. “Ah, sweet romance.”
As soon as the bedroom door closed, Jake pulled her into his arms. The kiss was everything she’d remembered and more. They kissed repeatedly until Gabe came back and stood in front of them. He cleared his throat.
“Should I go away again?” he asked.
“No, that’s fine,” Holly said. She had trouble speaking.
“Your timing is perfect,” Jake assured the boy.
Jake left shortly after that, and once she’d let him out of the apartment, Holly leaned against the door, still a little breathless. Being with Jake was very nice, indeed, but she had something else on her mind at the moment—Intellytron the SuperRobot and how she was going to afford one before Christmas.
Chapter Nine
It’s hard to stumble when you’re
down on your knees.
—Shirley, Goodness and Mercy,
friends of Mrs. Miracle
Holly gave the situation regarding Gabe and the robot careful thought during the sleepless night that followed their dinner. She’d asked Jake about it when Gabe was out of earshot.
“There are still plenty left,” he’d told her.
“But they’re selling, aren’t they?”
“Yes, sales are picking up.”
That was good for him but unsettling for her. If she couldn’t afford to pay for the robot until closer to Christmas, then she’d need to make a small deposit and put one on layaway now. She didn’t know if Finley’s offered that option; not many stores did anymore. She’d have to check with Jake. She dared not take a chance that Intellytron would sell out before she had the cash.
While she was dead set against letting Jake purchase the robot for her, she hoped he’d be willing to put one aside, even if layaway wasn’t a current practice at higher-end department stores. If she made their lunches, cut back on groceries and bought only what was absolutely necessary, she should be able to pay cash for the robot just before Christmas.
Tuesday morning she packed a hard-boiled egg and an apple for lunch. For Gabe she prepared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, adding an apple for him, too, plus the last of the sugar cookies. Gabe hadn’t been happy to take a packed lunch. He much preferred to buy his meal with his friends. But it was so much cheaper for him to bring it—and, at this point, necessary, although of course she couldn’t tell him why. The leftover Chinese food figured into her money-saving calculations, too. It would make a great dinner.
On her lunch hour, after she’d eaten her apple and boiled egg, Holly hurried to Finley’s to talk to Jake. She’d been uneasy from the moment she’d learned she wasn’t getting a Christmas bonus. She wouldn’t relax until she knew the SuperRobot would still be available the following week.
Unfortunately, Jake wasn’t in the toy department.
“He’s not here?” Holly asked Mrs. Miracle, unable to hide her disappointment.
“He’s with his father just now,” the older woman told her, and then frowned. “I do hope the meeting goes smoothly. It can be difficult to read the senior Mr. Finley sometimes. But I have faith that all will end well.” Her eyes twinkled as she spoke.
Holly hoped she’d explain, and Mrs. Miracle obliged.
“In case you didn’t hear, Jake went over the department buyer’s head when he ordered those extra robots,” she confided, “and that’s caused some difficulty with his father. J. R. Finley has a real stubborn streak.”
Mrs. Miracle seemed very well-informed about the relationship between Jake and his father. “The robots are selling, though. Isn’t that right?” she asked, again torn between pleasure at Jake’s success and worry about laying her hands on one of the toys. The display appeared to be much smaller than last week.
“Thankfully, yes,” Mrs. Miracle told her. “Jake took quite a risk, you know?”
Holly shook her head.
“Jake tried to talk Mike Scott into ordering more of the robots, but Mike refused to listen, so Jake did what he felt was best.” Her expression sobered. “His father was not pleased, to put it mildly.”
“But you said they’re selling.”
“Oh, yes. We sold another twenty-five over the weekend and double that on Monday.” She nodded sagely. “I can only assume J.R. is feeling somewhat reassured.”
“That’s great.” Holly meant it, but a shiver of dread went through her.
“Several of our competitors have already sold out,” Mrs. Miracle