Low Country Christmas

by Lee Tobin McClain

  He was trying to watch her parenting, like Sean said, to see if she was doing an okay job, but it was hard to maintain that detachment. Because clearly, she loved the child. So much. And this whole neglect nightmare was hitting her at least as hard as it was hitting Cash. He put an arm lightly around her shoulders and gave her an awkward pat.

  He, who was so comfortable making a move on a woman, found it much harder to give the simple human comfort that would make her feel better.

  She looked up at him with a shaky smile, but she couldn’t conceal the worry behind it.

  “Come on,” he said. “You don’t know Sean and Anna well yet, but they’re great. They’ll make you feel at home.”

  “Do they know we’re coming?”

  “No,” he said, “but we’re family. We don’t have to call first.”

  “Right,” she said faintly.

  Cash looked around the Sea Pine Cottages. The rustic little resort had been on its last legs when Sean had undertaken the remodeling and renovation of it. Now, it was thriving, with a mix of young families and vacationers and, from what he’d heard, an eccentric artist well-known for her seascapes.

  They mounted the stairs and knocked. Hayley, the bolder of Anna’s twins, answered the door, with Hope peeping behind her.

  “Baby Penny!” Hayley cried. “Mom, Uncle Cash and baby Penny and that lady are here!”

  Anna came out, wiping her hands on a dishcloth, wearing an apron. “That lady has a name,” she said. “She’s Ms. Gibson. Hi, Holly, Cash. Come on in. We’re just messing around, making lasagna and cookies. Lazy day. Good to see you.”

  Holly smiled down at Hayley. “You can call me Miss Holly if you like,” she said.

  Cash walked in and right away, he saw the huge Christmas tree that dominated the big family room, smelled the piney scent of it. Christmas music was playing softly, and HoHo was dressed in a green-and-white-striped one-piece outfit that made him look like a chubby elf. “Christmas comes early at your house, huh?”

  “We love it,” Anna said. “We had a lot of years when we could barely celebrate, so we go a little overboard now that we can.”

  Sean was on the floor, propped on one elbow, with boxes and instruction sheets in front of him. He beckoned to Cash. “Get in here and help me figure out how to put together this train set,” he said. “Hope and I have been working for an hour, but it’s slow going.”

  “Mom and I are almost done with the gingerbread men,” Hayley said. “Maybe baby Penny and—and Miss Holly can help us decorate them.”

  Cash looked over at Holly to see how she was reacting. “Sound okay to you?” he asked.

  But she didn’t answer. She was staring up at the Christmas tree, as wide-eyed as a kid herself.

  He nudged her. “Pretty, huh?”

  She nodded. “It’s beautiful. You have a beautiful home,” she added to Anna. “Penny and I would love to help you decorate cookies. Or at least watch and give advice.” She looked seriously down at Hayley. “She’s a little young to help, but it’s good for her to see the colors and hear you all talking.”

  “Oh, if it’s talking you want, Hayley’s your girl,” Anna said, rubbing Hayley’s shoulders absentmindedly. And then she and Hayley and Holly and Penny disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Daddy?” Hope shifted from foot to foot while Cash marveled, once again, at how quickly Sean had become the twins’ daddy. “Would it be okay if I went in the kitchen with the girls? I can stay here if you need me to.”

  Sean knelt down and put his arm around Hope. “Tell you what, I’ll see if your uncle Cash can help me. You go in the kitchen, and if I need you I’ll call you to come back.” He winked up at Cash. “Hope’s a real good helper.”

  “I’m sure she is.” And they both watched the little girl run off into the kitchen.

  “You’ll be there one day,” Sean said as he gestured for Cash to get down on the floor with him. “They grow up real fast. Before you know it, Penny’ll be walking and talking and going to school.”

  “I hope.” He settled down, pushing a truck around for HoHo’s entertainment while Sean studied the diagram for the train set. “We’re just coming from the pediatrician.”

  Sean’s eyes flicked up to Cash’s. “Anything wrong?”

  “A lot,” Cash said. “None of it irreparable, but she’s got delays we’re going to need to work pretty hard on.”

  “Tough news.” Sean fumbled for a screwdriver and started putting together the complex elevated track. “But you should know, more than anybody, that history isn’t destiny. There was a time when all three of us were considered most unlikely to succeed.”

  “Yeah, only Miss Vi wouldn’t let it happen.” Cash smiled at the memory of the librarian who’d taken an interest in all three of them, sat them down to read the classics, scolded them for any grade below a B and generally bullied them into achieving the most they could. “In fact, Holly’s already taking Penny to baby lap-sit at the library.”

  “That’s good. The folks at the center could help, too.”

  “We’re signed up for a class there. Rita told us about it.”

  Sean leveled a glare at him. “You mean Mom told you about it?” Of all the brothers, Sean was the one who’d embraced Rita most completely as their mother. He’d spent the most time with her and talked to her about the past, trying to help her remember it.

  “Yeah. Mom.”

  “You know who else would be good? Ma Dixie and Pudge,” Sean said. “For when you and Holly are working. They’re so great with kids, including kids who struggle.”

  That brought up Cash’s other worry, and he told Sean about how Ma and Pudge hadn’t been home when they’d visited, how Pudge had a doctor’s appointment and Ma hadn’t cooked.

  “They’re not young, I guess.” Sean frowned. “I’ll talk to them.” As their actual foster son, Sean had more of an in to finding out what was going on with Ma and Pudge.

  “And, anyway,” Cash added, “Holly doesn’t want them watching Penny.”

  “She doesn’t? Why not?”

  He shrugged. “Guess she just got uncomfortable or something. Says she doesn’t like to impose on them.”

  Sean grunted and got more involved with his construction project while Cash played with HoHo. Then the girls came out into the room with a plate of heavily frosted and decorated gingerbread cookies that smelled fantastic. Cash ate four of them. Holly seemed fully initiated into the twins’ club, and they were telling her everything they were planning for Christmas.

  “See,” Hayley said, “this is the ornament we picked out this year. We did it last year, too, and we’re gonna do the same thing every year.”

  “Because it’s a tradition,” Hope said seriously. “A family tradition.”

  Cash’s throat tightened. These girls had had precious little in the way of family tradition, but obviously Anna and Sean were making up for that now.

  Maybe he and Holly could do the same for Penny.

  Except he wasn’t like Sean—good-natured and methodical and handy around the house. He was loud and impatient, just like his father had been.

  He should try, though. He took a sparkly ornament from the tree and dangled it in front of Penny. “See, pretty,” he said, imitating the way Holly had started narrating all kinds of life events to her.

  “No!”

  “Cash!”

  “She can’t have a glass ornament!”

  Sean’s, Holly’s and Anna’s voices all converged to remind Cash that he knew nothing about parenting and wasn’t good at it. Sheepishly, he handed the fragile bauble to Hope to hang safely out of reach.

  After Sean and Anna had talked them into staying for lasagna, and they’d eaten, and the twins were yawning, and HoHo had fallen asleep, Penny—who’d gotten a second wind just when the other kids were going down—started making her way toward
the tree with her funny, awkward crawl.

  Cash watched her as the others talked. This time, he knew to make sure she didn’t grab an ornament.

  She got to an ottoman that impeded her path toward the tree and her little face started to screw up, and Cash braced himself for a big fuss. He was just starting to stand up to get her when she gripped the edge of the ottoman and pulled herself to her feet. She swayed there, staring at the tree in what looked like an awestruck way.

  Not wanting to take his eyes off her, Cash reached out a hand to Holly, found her arm and nodded toward the baby.

  Holly gasped. “She pulled herself up.”

  Cash nodded, and then he did look at Holly, and the joy on her face matched the joy in his heart.

  In all the world, they were the only two people who knew just how monumental that move was.

  Sean and Anna had gone over to a card table set up in the corner of the room, where they had an ongoing battle about who’d finish the jigsaw puzzle first.

  The twins were focused on the Christmas movie playing quietly on the old television, sleepy-eyed.

  Cash slid over and put an arm around Holly, and they stood and watched Penny—their daughter—as she swayed, staring at the tree.

  A few seconds later, of course, she sat down hard. But Cash had seen a moment of hope.

  If she was pulling up, she’d soon learn to walk. And that was the first of many important steps.

  She was going to improve, to catch up. And no matter how inadequate, he was going to help her.

  * * *

  THE NEXT DAY, Rita practically dragged Norma out to take a walk. “It’ll help you quit smoking better than anything else—getting exercise,” she said.

  “I know, I know.” Norma patted the pocket of her jacket as if for reassurance, and Rita rolled her eyes. Ninety-nine chances out of a hundred, she had a pack of cigarettes in there.

  “You’re going to have to chuck those away sometime.”

  “You ain’t the boss of me,” Norma said with a stuck-out tongue and wrinkled-nose sneer that was classic middle grade.

  “Besides,” Rita continued, ignoring the expression, “I need support. Holly wants me to meet this rascal of a dog on neutral ground, and you have to help me resist adopting him.”

  “That I can do. I’m not the sucker that you are.”

  They walked at a brisk pace—not as brisk as Rita wanted, but probably a little brisker than Norma did—and were soon at the designated meeting spot in the town park. Holly was already there, sitting on a bench. But instead of having one dog with her, she had two.

  As Rita and Norma approached, the two dogs left their sniffing and ball-chasing to jump at them, barking hysterically. One was big, what looked like a poorly groomed standard poodle; the other was a fluffy yellow terrier mix with soulful brown eyes that immediately tugged at Rita’s heart. She knelt to pet it, looking up at Holly. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said. “I’m not certain about taking even one dog, and I’m definitely not taking two.”

  Holly grinned. “I’m not asking you to. But there are two of you, so...” She looked expectantly at Norma.

  “No way. Me and dogs don’t get along,” Norma said.

  “But you haven’t met Snowball,” Holly coaxed. “Come on, Snowball, show Norma what a great dog you are. Sit.”

  Promptly, the white poodle sat.

  The little yellow dog ran and yapped and tangled its leash with the other dog’s.

  “Rita, could you...?” Holly held out the leash to her.

  Rita couldn’t keep her eyes off the little dog. She knelt down to touch its soft fur as it leaped at her, joyous at the attention. “Aren’t you a cutie, though?” Instinctively, she cradled the dog against her chest and held it, loose but restrained.

  “Snowball, catch!” Holly threw a treat into the air, and Snowball snapped it out of the air with her big jaws.

  Holly stood and held out her arm. “Paws up,” she ordered, and Snowball stood, front paws on Holly’s arm.

  “Well, isn’t that something,” Norma said, reluctant appreciation in her voice.

  “So,” Holly said, “the owner of these two took them on because his parents had to move into assisted living and couldn’t bring their pets. But he works long hours and doesn’t have time for them. He’s got plenty of toys and crates and dog food that he’ll give you along with the dogs.”

  The yellow dog had settled against Rita’s stomach as she sat cross-legged on the ground, a warm, welcome weight. “I wish I could take them. This one especially. But my apartment complex only allows small dogs. I checked last night. And you wouldn’t want to separate them.”

  “Well, that’s just it,” Holly said. “They’re not a bonded pair. Apparently the couple that went into assisted living didn’t get along, so the husband took Snowball and trained her and the wife took Taffy and spoiled her. They had separate bedrooms and separate TV areas and so the two dogs know each other, but they don’t especially like each other.”

  “So I could just take Taffy?” Rita’s heart tugged for the little girl. With some training, she’d be a terrific dog. Well, maybe a lot of training, she reflected ruefully as the dog started chewing on the edge of Holly’s shoe.

  “Yes,” Holly said, beaming as she tugged her foot out of the dog’s mouth, “and I thought maybe Norma would like Snowball.”

  “Why?” Norma squawked. “I told you, I don’t like dogs.”

  “Poodles aren’t the same as other dogs,” Holly said. “Look how smart she is, and how calm. She’s six years old, and if she were groomed nicely, she’d be beautiful, almost a show dog.”

  “I don’t think my condo allows pets.” Norma scratched Snowball’s head and the poodle leaned against her, panting up at her, tongue out.

  “Call and check,” Holly suggested. “It would be so perfect if you’d each take one. Then they could see each other sometimes, but they wouldn’t have to live together and drive each other crazy.”

  Rita laughed. “Sort of like you and me, lady,” she said to Norma. “I love you, but I can’t imagine living with you.”

  “Call now,” Holly urged. “I’m seriously afraid he’s going to take them to the pound.”

  “The condo office isn’t even open.”

  “Call Stephen,” Rita suggested. “Isn’t he on the board of the condos and everything? He seems like he’d know all the rules.”

  “No, I’m not calling him.”

  “Then I will.” Rita scrolled through her contacts.

  “Give me his number.” Norma whipped out her phone as Rita sent her the contact. “And I’m not saying I’ll take her. I’m just saying I’ll consider it.”

  Stephen didn’t answer, so she left a message. Rita committed to take the smaller dog, Taffy, after she’d had a couple of days to arrange things. Holly promised to continue walking them for as long as needed, gratis.

  “No, that isn’t necessary. I walk a lot, but when I work a long shift I’ll call you. And I’ll pay you, and no arguments.”

  “If there’s any problem,” Holly said, “I’m sure there are trainers around. In fact, the owner kept planning to take them to a trainer, but when he found out he’d have to actually work with them instead of dropping them off, he didn’t want to.”

  Rita snapped a few photos of Taffy, joyous about getting her for no particular reason. It was good to be single and have enough money to do something spontaneous. And she’d instantly fallen in love with the butterscotch-colored pup.

  After Holly headed off to take the dogs home, Rita and Norma spent the rest of the walk arguing amiably about them. Rita was definitely planning to adopt Taffy, and Norma was definitely not planning to adopt Snowball. “She’s a beautiful dog, or she could be,” Norma said. “But I want my freedom. I don’t want to be getting up in the middle of the night for bathroom runs.”

&n
bsp; “She’s six. She isn’t going to need to go out in the middle of the night. T-Bone and I, we always had an older Lab or mix, and none of them gave us much trouble.” She flashed a smile at her friend. “Just a whole lot of love.”

  “Love, I could use,” Norma admitted.

  “A dog’s going to be less demanding than a man,” Rita teased her.

  “Less judgmental, too. They don’t care what you look like.”

  “That’s for sure.” Rita put an arm around her friend. “If they did care you’d get high grades, my friend. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  Norma snorted but didn’t answer.

  Norma needed something to give her confidence and cheer her up, Rita reflected. And Snowball might just be the ticket. She probably shouldn’t press Norma on it; she was old enough to make her own decisions. Plus, she had a lot more education than Rita had.

  But there was more than one kind of smarts. Norma didn’t always know what was good for her. Insight about other people was one thing; insight about yourself was something else.

  They stopped at the diner so Rita could pick up her paycheck, and wouldn’t you know it, there was Cash at the counter. Rita walked over and said hello, feeling awkward for all that he was her son.

  His coffee cup was empty. Good. Something she could do for him. “Want me to get you a refill?” she asked, reaching for it.

  “No, it’s okay. Brenda will do it.” He smiled at her, a brief, impersonal smile.

  Rita pulled back her hand and tried not to feel hurt. It wasn’t easy. Cash was never rude to her, but he definitely kept his guard up.

  Norma patted Rita’s shoulder. She understood.

  Man, Rita wished she could remember the past. Especially with Cash—she felt like knowing what he’d been like as a kid would unlock the key to his cryptic personality.

  It helped that when her boss and now boyfriend, Jimmy Cooper, saw her, his handsome face lit up and he came over and put an arm around her. “There’s my favorite employee-slash-girlfriend,” he said, smiling as he looked from her to Norma, nodding at Cash. “What’s up with you two? You out walking?”