Low Country Christmas

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Low Country Christmas Page 6

by Lee Tobin McClain


  She couldn’t believe that, within thirty-six hours, he had accepted his paternity and moved his residence to take responsibility for it. On the one hand, she knew it was a good thing. She needed Cash to step up to the plate and it looked like he was going to do that.

  The only problem was, what she actually wanted from him wasn’t hands-on parenting, but money to help support Penny. She would have to figure out a way to talk to him about it.

  The food came, and Cash waved aside her offer to pay. He pulled out a big wad of bills—it figured that was how would pay for things, flashy as he was—and again, spoke to the delivery guy in that tonal language. As he opened cartons at her small kitchen table, she asked him about it. “When did you learn to speak Mandarin?”

  “Cantonese,” he corrected. “I do a lot of business in southern China.”

  “What other languages do you speak?” She was kind of joking.

  He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, Spanish and a few other Asian languages, but I’m not very good at them.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you good at Cantonese? Because that man seemed to understand you pretty well.”

  “I get by. So what do you like? I ordered some Szechuan, because I like spicy, but there’s pork-fried rice if you’d rather have something more plain. And this is a tofu eggplant dish, in case you don’t eat meat.”

  “Don’t you think of everything.” She smiled up at him. “It all looks fantastic. Thank you.”

  After they’d eaten their fill, Cash held Penny while Holly put away the rest of the food. By the time she had wiped down the table, Penny was dozing off. “Since she didn’t have much of a nap today, I’m going to put her to bed now,” she said. Then she added, “Unless you want to do it.” Such a strange feeling, having Cash here for Penny’s bedtime again.

  She should worry about it, and no doubt she would. But having him here, having another adult she could talk to and share her concerns with, made muscles loosen that she hadn’t known were tight.

  He smiled with what looked like gratitude. “Thanks for the offer. I’d better watch what you do one more time.”

  “Sure. I guess it’s something you’ll need to learn, since you’re her father.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I’m still trying to get used to that word.”

  “Seems like you’re doing a pretty good job, considering that you moved in next door.” She shot a glare over her shoulder. “And told your mom.”

  “Did that bother you?”

  She shook her head. “I was just surprised.”

  “What can I say, I’m a man of action. Lead on.”

  That made her nervous.

  She took Penny into the bedroom and stopped, surprised. “There’s a rocking chair here.”

  Cash held up his hands, palms out. “Wasn’t me. The ladies in the rental office found one to bring in for you. Apparently it circulates through the furnished apartments, depending on who has a baby that needs rocking.”

  “That’s nice.” It was. And it also made her nervous. How could she keep a safe distance from people who were acting so helpful and kind?

  She put Penny on the floor to change her diaper, but Cash waved her away. “This, I actually know how to do,” he said.

  “You do?” Even men who loved their role as uncle rarely got this down and dirty about it.

  “My brother Sean insisted. Said it was something every man needed to know. I think he was really just making sure I’d be available to babysit when he wanted to take his wife out.” While he spoke, he deftly did the cleaning, wiping and diapering. He swung up Penny, but when she started to chortle, he tucked her quickly against his chest. “Sorry. I know it’s wrong to get her excited right before bedtime.”

  “I think you know more about babies than I do.” She held out her arms for Penny and cuddled her close, sniffing her sweaty, baby-shampoo-scented head. Then she sat down in the rocking chair. “She’ll love being rocked to sleep. You can stay if you want.”

  “Should I be quiet?”

  “You can talk a little, but not loud.” Holly rocked gently, the weight of the baby in her lap and arms anchoring her. She loved these quiet moments with Penny. She was almost sorry that the baby was so tired she started to drift off immediately.

  Cash leaned against the doorjamb and watched, and only when Penny had sighed and nestled closer to Holly, indicating that she was asleep, did he speak. “I drew up a child-support plan, with the help of my lawyer.” He named a monthly figure that was three times as high as what she’d expected him to offer.

  “It’s too much!” she blurted out, and then clamped her mouth shut. That much money made her uneasy even though she’d come here wanting financial help from Cash, and she needed to think about why.

  “Huh.” Cash let out a short laugh. “Never heard a woman say that before.”

  She stared at him. “How many times have women asked you for child support?”

  “More than you might think.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But they weren’t my kids. Penny is, and I’ve been thinking about it. Penny’s more my responsibility than yours. I’m the one who had a relationship with Tiff that ended up making a baby. You had nothing to do with that, and you’re taking care of her out of the kindness of your heart.”

  “She’s my family, too!” Holly didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. Cash had so many advantages over her—money and connections. And now he’d realized he had a closer biological relationship with Penny as well.

  “You shouldn’t suffer for something I did,” he went on. “She’s my daughter. So I want to pay whatever is needed for her to have a good life.”

  Holly’s grip tightened on the baby. She wasn’t comfortable with Cash focusing on how much more Penny belonged to him than to her. It sounded...possessive. “I want to pay and contribute. She’s my niece. She’s my responsibility, too.”

  He waved a hand at the room. “I want her to have more than this.”

  “Excuse me?” Holly stood up too fast and Penny twisted in her arms, her face crinkling like she was about to cry.

  The thoughtless judgment in Cash’s gesture, in the way he looked around the humble bedroom, made her want to smack him, a totally uncharacteristic feeling for her, and certainly not a way for a caregiver to act.

  She drew in a calming breath, biting off the angry words she wanted to say. Carefully, she placed Penny in the Pack ’n’ Play, put her favorite snuggly toy in her arms and patted her back until she settled again.

  It gave her time to think. “Look, Cash, if you feel like that’s the right amount of child support to pay, I’m not going to argue with you. I’ll just put what we don’t need in a savings account, for college. But I’m not going to quit working or move into some fancy place just so you feel more at home. This apartment is perfectly fine for a baby, and seeing me work is good for her.”

  He studied her, frowning. “You’re your own person, aren’t you?”

  “Of course,” she said, and led the way back out to the living room. She hoped he would leave now. She needed time to process everything that had happened today.

  No such luck. “I want to talk to you about something I’m going to do on the advice of Rita and my brothers,” he said.

  “Oh, what’s that?” She didn’t sit down, didn’t offer him a seat or a drink. Go home, she tried to say without words.

  “There’s a parenting class at the women’s center.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled while Holly’s mind reeled. A parenting class? What was he implying?

  “Here it is,” he said. He showed her an informational page. “Rita told me about it. It’s for parents of infants and babies, or people who are fostering or have a court-related order. Emphasis on special needs.” He glanced toward the bedroom and then back at Holly. “I’d like to take Penny and do these classes,” he said.
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  The tightness in her chest got worse. “Are you trying to take her from me?”

  “No!” He stared at her. “I’m just trying to learn and figure this out, so I can see her and know her. Take care of her without completely screwing up.”

  But Holly was suspicious. All she’d heard was “take Penny.”

  She started toward the door, hoping he’d follow, then stopped halfway to look at the picture of Tiff she’d hung on the wall.

  I know you wanted me to bring her here and get Cash’s help, but how well did you know him, really?

  But Tiff wasn’t here now, couldn’t answer, couldn’t help Holly make decisions about her baby. She turned abruptly, causing Cash to stop. “You can do the parenting class,” she said, “and you can take Penny. But only if I can do it with you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RITA KNOCKED ON the door of Norma’s high-end condo, then turned and leaned over the railing to see the ocean just beyond. She loved the sight and sound of pounding waves.

  For a moment, she let herself envy her friend. An insurance settlement from a company Norma had worked for long ago meant that Norma had all the money she needed. She could afford to live in a luxury, oceanfront condo, the same complex where Cash lived, and yeah, the place was nice.

  But, she reminded herself, Norma’s life was far from perfect; the envy went both ways. Rita had it good. She lived in a small rental, yes, but she had friends and a good man to keep her company. Money couldn’t buy that.

  Norma’s front door had a painted sign as a Christmas decoration: Be Naughty. Save Santa the Trip. Knowing Norma, it was in defiance of everyone else’s classy Christmas wreaths. Her friend loved a lot of things about this condominium complex, but she railed against the slightly snobbish attitude held by some of the residents.

  Like her neighbor, affectionately known to the two of them as the Silver Fox.

  Norma opened the door and, even though Rita hadn’t called in advance, gave her a big smile and opened her arms for a hug.

  It was wonderful to have a close, drop-in-anytime type of friend nearby.

  “I’m so glad you moved to Safe Haven,” Rita said as they walked inside, where the smell of something baking pervaded the air. “Muffins? Coffee cake? It smells fabulous.”

  “Blueberry muffins.” Norma opened her built-in, stainless-steel oven and pulled out a tin of golden brown muffins, their rounded tops rising high. She opened a canister of sugar, the fancy crystalized kind, and sprinkled some on top. “You want one?”

  Rita’s mouth watered, but she patted her belly regretfully. “I’d better not. At least, not unless we take a walk first to preburn the calories.”

  “Can’t,” Norma said. “I promised Cash that I’d wait for his wireless guy. He’s supposed to come sometime this morning.”

  Rita’s heart gave a painful twist. Why would Cash ask Norma for help when Rita was his own mother and perfectly willing? Was it an on-purpose slap in the face, or just a general lack of trust?

  She was too embarrassed by her son’s coldness toward her to say anything about it. “Is he having problems with his wireless?”

  “He’s setting up an office here,” Norma explained. “Got an okay from the condo association and everything.”

  Oh. Rita swallowed. Something else she hadn’t known about.

  Norma paused in the midst of turning the muffins out onto a plate. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing!” Rita made a show of studying Norma’s salt and pepper shakers, then gave up and met her friend’s eyes. “It’s that obvious?”

  “Yep. You don’t exactly have a poker face.”

  Rita sighed. No keeping anything from her therapist/friend. “Cash runs hot and cold on me. Mostly cold. Hurts that he’d ask for your help, but not mine.”

  “Well,” Norma said, leaning back against the counter, “to be fair, I live in this complex and you don’t. Maybe he didn’t want you to have to drive over here and wait. Maybe he was just being thoughtful.”

  “He wasn’t being thoughtful. He won’t ask me for help moving into his new place, either, even though I’m just two doors down.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat, looking out the sliding glass doors at the tossing waves. “Let’s face it, I was a bad mother. The other two have let me off the hook about that, but Cash won’t. He’s the tough one.”

  Without asking, Norma brought a mug of black coffee over to Rita, and another one for herself. She sank into the chair across from Rita. “Did you have a choice?”

  “How would I know?” Rita bit her lip when she heard the bitterness in her own voice.

  “You know what happened to you,” Norma said, her voice patient, “because your boys and other people told you what happened. The boys’ father abducted you and beat you nearly to death. When you came to, you didn’t remember anything. Right?”

  “Right,” Rita said. Put so baldly, it sounded horrible. She would have felt great sympathy for such a thing happening to someone else. But the fact that she had no memory of the events somehow rendered them hard to believe.

  “So,” Norma continued, “how could you know that you even had kids, let alone neglected them?”

  They’d been through all this before. Rita had gotten to know Norma because Norma had been her counselor at the Maine clinic where she’d ended up after being rescued by T-Bone, the man who’d become her husband, and was now deceased. Norma had to be kind and understanding about issues like this, because she was a trained counselor.

  Cash wasn’t. He wasn’t letting her off the hook. Which Rita totally understood. Although Cash acted easygoing, he was anything but. Not only that, but from what she’d been able to glean from her other sons, Cash’s foster parents, with whom he’d landed after the Orin disaster, had also been cold. Wealthy, but cold.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d let it happen. What kind of a person had she been, anyway, that she’d hooked up with a man so evil, then stayed with him to have not one, but three children? Had she been stupid or just passive? Why hadn’t she sought the resources of a shelter or domestic-abuse hotline sooner, in order to save her boys, if not herself?

  She had the feeling that, if her current self met her earlier self, she wouldn’t have liked her. Because what kind of mother let things get that bad for her children?

  The whole thing swirled painfully in her mind. She shook her head a little bit, sipped coffee and met Norma’s eyes. “I’m not here to talk about me and my problems. I wanted to ask a favor of you. Actually, I have a proposition for you.”

  “Don’t get a whole lot of those anymore,” Norma joked. “What’s up?”

  “This request actually comes from Yasmin over at the women’s center,” Rita said, “and you’ve heard it before—they need help. They have a parenting class starting up soon, and their normal instructor got a new job and can’t do it. Could you step in?”

  Before Rita finished speaking, Norma was shaking her head. “I don’t really want to work,” she said. “I know I told Yasmin I’d consider it when she asked a while back, but I’m not really up for it.”

  “Hear me out,” Rita said. “It’s a class for parents who need help with their special-needs children, or their kids are having discipline problems, or they’ve been somehow neglected because of whatever it was that brought them to the women’s center. Right up your alley. The kind of stuff that you worked on for your whole career, so when Yasmin told me they needed an instructor for that particular course, I thought of you right away.”

  “Yeah, but standing up in front of a bunch of people and talking? I hate that kind of thing. I do better one-on-one.”

  “But you turned down that volunteer job of offering counseling to kids in trouble,” Rita reminded her.

  “Didn’t suit my schedule,” Norma said, her tone offhanded.

  Rita didn’t get it. “Are you going to just sit h
ere and rot? You’re too young to retire.”

  Norma glared. “I’m not rotting, I’m baking muffins and helping out your son.”

  Ouch. “Don’t rub it in. I would love to be the one helping him, but he doesn’t want anything to do with me, I already told you that.”

  “Are you sure you’re not being oversensitive? Taking offense where there’s none meant?”

  “I thought a therapist was supposed to let you be oversensitive.” Rita wasn’t really mad, that was the kind of relationship she and Norma had, but she wasn’t going to let herself get sidetracked. “Just like a therapist is supposed to want to help people. As in, teach that class.”

  “I told you, I’m off duty. I don’t want to work anymore, and that goes for acting sympathetic when someone just might need a kick in the pants!”

  “I need a kick in the pants? Why did I even come over here?” Rita took one of the muffins and broke a piece off it.

  Norma slapped her hand and went to the sink to wash the mixing bowl and muffin tin.

  Rita turned away. Outside the windows, the November sun was finally high enough to heat up the day. There was no noise outside, though, not like at Rita’s apartment complex. This place was dead. She was glad she didn’t live here. Especially since living here would mean living closer to her impossible best friend.

  “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Norma asked, her voice gruff. “If you’re alone, you can come with me to the meal the civic association is putting on.” She gestured at the muffins. “That’s what these are for. We’re serving breakfast while the main meal’s being prepared. Could always use another helping hand.”

  It was Norma’s way of apologizing for her sharp words, and it also made Rita feel guilty. As the person who’d been in town longer, she should have thought to make sure Norma had something to do for the holiday. “Jimmy and I are going to Sean’s place,” she said. “And I’m one hundred percent sure there’s plenty of food and space for another person, if you’d like to stop by after you help with the civic group’s meal.”

 

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