The Secret Christmas Child
Page 7
She walked out the barn door and there were Paige and Mrs. Markowski, arguing in front of the family Mercedes. The expensive cut of Mrs. Markowski’s coat, her perfect hair, her designer boots made Gabby conscious of her own shabby jeans and college hoodie. Paige wore workout clothes from a brand Gabby had heard of but never even aspired to purchase. The teenager’s socks probably cost more than Gabby’s entire outfit.
She could hear the boys joking and laughing behind her, the sound of Jacob’s voice ringing out with the rest. She glanced back and saw her brother smiling, having fun.
That was what was important. Not designer clothes, but a boy finding a place to fit in.
Mrs. Markowski turned and saw her. “We have an hour before Paige’s track practice,” Mrs. Markowski said without bothering to greet Gabby.
So she wasn’t even going to pretend to be friendly. “Well...we’ll see what we can get done in that amount of time.” Gabby turned and beckoned both of them toward the barn.
“One minute.” Mrs. Markowski touched Gabby’s arm. “Go on ahead, Paige. I need to talk with Gabby for a few minutes.”
Paige shrugged and walked on in, and Gabby turned back toward the older woman. “If you’re concerned about Paige being here with the boys, I can assure you that everyone is well supervised. Reese makes sure of that.”
“It’s not that. I’m actually concerned about you.” Mrs. Markowski gave her a tight smile.
Really? Somehow, I don’t think so. Gabby stuck her hands into her back pockets and waited.
“I heard a rumor that Reese’s old assistant might not come back.”
“Really?” Gabby’s heart gave a jump, a happy one. She was liking the work here already, and if there was a chance she could stay on...
“I’m just going to come out and say it. You’re not thinking of staying in Bethlehem Springs, are you?”
Now I am. Gabby cocked her head to one side. “Why do you ask?”
Mrs. Markowski’s lips pressed together. “It’s the gossip, dear. It’s terrible. After living in a bigger city, you may have forgotten just how conservative Bethlehem Springs can be.”
Understanding was starting to dawn on Gabby, but she needed to know for sure. “Gossip about what?” Was there some way Mrs. Markowski had learned the truth about what had happened the evening her son had been killed?
“About your baby, dear.”
Heat climbed Gabby’s face and shame knotted her stomach, even though she knew, in her head, that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless being naive and trusting was a crime.
But how strange was it to be talking to Reese’s aunt—Brock’s mother, which made her Izzy’s grandmother—about her and her baby being an embarrassment to the town?
Her heart pounded as she stared at the woman’s hard, cold eyes, an exact match to her son’s. Her breathing quickened.
She was about to lose it. Instinctively, she touched the cross necklace she always wore.
God is in control, so you don’t have to be.
It was a truth she’d leaned on when her life had gone in a direction she’d never expected. She knew with bone-deep certainty that He could bestow good even after the darkest events. Izzy was living proof of that.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Thanks for your input,” she said, lifting her chin. She wasn’t going to get into an argument with the woman, but she also wasn’t going to kiss up to her. Who approached a single mom and told her there was gossip about her baby and she should leave town, especially in this day and age? She squared her shoulders and kept breathing deeply as she led the way into the barn.
She refused to worry about what Mrs. Markowski had said, but the woman’s question had made her think about something she’d pushed aside until now: Would she stay on after Christmas?
Gossip or not—and she had to suspect some of that was just among Mrs. Markowski’s snobbish group of friends, whose opinions didn’t really affect Gabby—she found herself liking the idea of staying here. The town really was livable, a nice place for Izzy to grow up. Nana needed Gabby, and that need wouldn’t decrease in years to come. And truthfully, Gabby needed Nana, as well. For her wisdom, for her skill with Izzy, for her love. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d felt with no family around until she’d gotten a taste of belonging somewhere again.
Even Jacob was starting to feel like a real brother to her. And if she could keep this job...what could be more perfect? She liked working with the boys. She was nearby if Nana needed her, and she could let Izzy stay with family rather than strangers.
It was all riding on whether they could make the show a success. Which meant not alienating the Markowskis, who were perfectly capable of spreading negative gossip around town and to Mr. Romano, who, according to Nana, traveled in the same wealthy circles they did.
Reese had the kids sitting working together around the table. The boys were being remarkably quiet and respectful, greeting Mrs. Markowski politely and then returning to the papers and computers they were working on.
What had Reese said to them to evoke this kind of great behavior? Regardless of that, and regardless of Mrs. Markowski’s rudeness, she needed to swallow her emotions. The past was past, and she had to make this situation work day by day, with God’s help.
“Dude,” Wolf said, looking at Jacob. “We should get started.”
“Right.” Jacob cleared his throat and spoke up firmly. “Everyone has their parts. Let’s run through it.”
Pride pushed past Gabby’s worried thoughts. Jacob was assuming a leadership role, which was terrific for him in all kinds of ways.
They all gathered at one end of the barn, clutching papers, jostling each other, giggling nervously.
“What about the animals?” one of the younger boys yelled. “Don’t they have to practice, too?”
“Let’s get the people parts going well first,” Reese suggested, the hint of a smile on his face.
“And...music!” Jacob pointed at another of the younger boys, who fiddled with a phone and computer. Suddenly, booming music with a heavy bass beat filled the barn. Several dogs started barking, and all three adults clapped their hands to their ears. “Turn it down!” Reese ordered, and after a minute, the boy did as he’d asked.
“Okay, now I’ll point to you when it’s time to come in,” Jacob said.
They proceeded to go through a very rough and very colorful version of the nativity story, all done more or less to the tune of three different rap songs that had been popular last year. It was so ragged that Gabby couldn’t imagine how it would get to a point where they could do the performance in front of the congregation. Reese’s aunt was shaking her head, her mouth twisting to one side.
Paige looked around at the boys and put her hands on her hips. “For one thing, everyone has to learn their parts. You all need to get ahold of the music and practice when you come in, before tomorrow’s rehearsal. Tyler,” she said, pointing to the boy who’d done the music, “could you list everyone in order?”
“We could just print out the whole thing, and then everyone could highlight their own lines,” Jacob suggested.
“Good idea. The other thing is, we should include some regular Christmas carols mixed in with the rap. Like, a different one after each song.”
Wolf frowned. “That’ll make it boring.”
“Maybe to you,” Paige said, “but the people in the audience are old. They’ll like it.”
Gabby looked over at Reese, who was barely suppressing a smile. “Who are they calling old?” she asked in a whisper.
“To a bunch of teenagers, we are old,” he said ruefully. “And I’d like Christmas carols a million times better than the songs they’re using.”
“People like to participate, to be involved,” Paige lectured on. “And besides, the show is going to be too short otherwise.”
“Good point,�
�� Jacob said. He was staring at Paige with an awestruck smile, the picture of puppy love.
“Let’s go through it once more,” she said, and then looked at Jacob. “Is that okay?”
He grinned, nodded and then pointed at the music boy. “From the top.”
This time was marginally better. The boys seemed to be taking it more seriously because Paige was.
“Now, you guys work in some Christmas carols. Nothing weird, just the regular ones like ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing,’ got it?”
“Got it,” they chorused.
“All right. I have to go to track practice, but I’ll be back tomorrow at the same time to go through it all again.” With a wave, she waltzed out of the barn.
Mrs. Markowski stood, too, and Reese and Gabby walked her out. “Your daughter is a good leader,” Gabby said.
Reese laughed. “She comes by it naturally, right, Aunt Catherine?”
But Mrs. Markowski didn’t smile. “I don’t seem to have been successful letting Gabby know about the gossip in town,” she said, “so I’ll tell you, Reese. Everyone’s talking about that baby of hers. And this can’t help your reputation—most people are saying it’s yours.”
* * *
His aunt’s words weren’t a shock to Reese—he’d heard the same from Corbin—but they still hit him hard, and he instantly looked at Gabby. Her hand was over her mouth, unshed tears in her eyes. She was staring at his aunt’s retreating back, for she’d thrown that little volley and left the battleground.
His body tensed, his muscles quivering, fists clenching. No one should be gossiping about Gabby, but even if gossip was inevitable, there was no need for his aunt to upset her with it.
He started after his aunt. “That was inappropriate,” he called after her. “I don’t need to hear gossip and neither does—”
“Reese.” Gabby’s hand was on his arm, clutching his sleeve. “Let them go. Paige and the boys don’t need to hear all of this.”
“But she has no right—” He broke off and turned back to her. “You have a point. This isn’t the time or place to talk with her about it.”
“She’s not going to change.” Gabby sighed. “And what she’s saying, I’m sure she didn’t make it up. I’m so sorry your name is getting mixed up in the gossip about me.”
The Mercedes roared off, spinning gravel. His aunt was at the wheel, a mean little smile on her face.
“I apologize for my family,” he said. “What did she say to you before?”
“That I should leave town to keep gossip from building.” She frowned. “Maybe I ought to.”
The thought of Gabby leaving hit him harder than it should have, but there wasn’t time to process it. A couple of cars pulled up, Wolf’s dad picking up Wolf and another boy, then David’s mom. The other parents would be here for pickup soon, so Reese and Gabby walked inside to help the rest of the boys gather their things and clean up.
Gabby looked at the clock and bit her lip.
“Do you need to head out?” he asked, concerned for her. “I can take it from here. I’m sure Nana would welcome a break.”
“I’m sure she would,” Gabby said, “but I have to grocery shop. There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, for dinner.” She laughed a little. “To tell you the truth, I’m not used to cooking for a family. I have no idea what I’m going to make.”
That was when he realized what an adjustment she was facing. New job, new living situation that involved some caregiving for Nana, and the sudden addition of Jacob to the mix.
She never complained, but looking at her eyes, he read the tiredness there. “Tell you what,” he said, inspired, “let me do the grocery shopping. Nana had been giving me a list for a few weeks, while she was sick, but she stopped when you arrived. I’ll shop if you’ll stay with the rest of the boys until their rides arrive. Then you can go home with Jacob and chill a little. I’ll come over with the groceries and cook dinner for you guys.”
“But why would you—”
“I want to help,” he said. “And we should talk about what to do about Aunt Catherine, but talking will go down easier once we’ve had some food. I assume everyone goes to bed early, so maybe we can have some privacy.”
She bit her lip and looked up at him, her cheeks going pink.
He realized how his remark had sounded. “I didn’t mean that kind of privacy—I meant, to talk.”
“Of course,” she said, still blushing, looking away. “If you’re sure, that would be a big help.”
* * *
Two hours later, they were all sitting around Nana’s table: Reese, Gabby, Nana, Jacob and baby Izzy, who was in a high chair at the corner of the table between Jacob and Gabby.
“This looks great!” Jacob stuffed a big bite of pasta into his mouth.
“Jacob!” Both Nana and Gabby scolded at the same time. “Prayers first.”
“And because you’re so eager, you can say it,” Nana added with a wink to Reese.
They all bowed their heads and took each other’s hands. Nana’s, on his left, was thin, bones covered by papery skin.
Gabby was on his right, and he was wearing the prosthetic he favored when he needed to get things done, the pincerlike claw. It was functional, but not exactly pleasing to the eye. He looked over at her doubtfully.
She was waiting, one eyebrow lifted. “I’d like to hold your hand,” she said simply.
He held out his prosthetic, and she took it and bowed her head.
“Thank You, Lord, for these Thy gifts which we are about to receive in Jesus’s name, amen,” Jacob said in a rush.
“Amen.” He heard a suppressed laugh in Gabby’s voice and she glanced over at him with merriment in her eyes. As she shifted in her chair, the side of her leg brushed against his.
He felt the physical contact like a jolt of electricity coursing through his body.
“Now we can eat,” Nana said, “and this pasta smells terrific. I like a man who can cook.”
“So do I,” Gabby said so softly that he couldn’t be sure she’d really said it.
This spontaneously offered dinner, however nonromantically he’d meant it, might have been a terrible mistake. He didn’t want to be having the feelings he was having. Shouldn’t, because Gabby had dumped him once before. He couldn’t open himself up to it happening again. Couldn’t trust that the small, unconsciously flirtatious things she did meant anything.
They all dug in. Pickles jumped up onto the table, and when Gabby put him firmly back down, he hissed at her, cementing his sour reputation.
Biff ambled over and put a giant paw on the cat. Not hurting him, just holding him to the floor.
“He wants Mr. Pickles to apologize!” Jacob said as the cat meowed indignantly.
“It’s okay, Biff, thank you,” Gabby said, patting the dog and laughing, and Biff let the cat up and sat beside Gabby, panting up at her.
It was an attitude Reese could totally understand. Gabby was flushed, smiling, having fun, and she was enormously appealing.
“This happens every night,” Nana explained. “It’s a turf war between Biff and Mr. Pickles.”
As if to illustrate her point, Biff sniffed at Mr. Pickles, and the cat batted his nose. Biff reared back and sat down, and the cat walked off at a deliberate pace, tail twitching.
Biff had come home from the barn to sleep. Apparently, they’d been bringing him home every night “to socialize him,” but it was looking like the big, out-of-control dog was becoming a part of their family.
“So, Jacob,” Reese said, trying to distract himself from the sight, sound and overall very appealing presence of Gabby, “what did you think about Paige’s contribution to the project?”
“She’s awesome.” Jacob said it through a mouthful and continued eating.
“She was pretty awesome.” Gabby explained the rehearsal to Nana.
“Hey,” Reese protested, “are you saying men can’t organize a show? Men can do anything! Just look at this meal.” He was joking around. “Stand up for me here, Jacob. Mr. Pickles.”
The cat, seeming to recognize his name, gave a loud, annoyed meow, making them all laugh.
Jacob nodded. “The guys can figure it out eventually, but Paige can do it faster. She had good ideas.” He looked slyly at Gabby. “See, I’m focusing on her brain and not her looks.”
Gabby fist-bumped him. “Good, good. You’re improving.”
Izzy had been watching them all with round eyes, very much like Gabby’s. “Guh, guh,” she said, banging her cup on her high chair tray for emphasis.
“New word! She said good!” Gabby sounded joyful.
“Want me to write it down?” Jacob offered. Without waiting for an answer, he swiped a napkin across his mouth and went to the chalkboard on one side of the kitchen. Reese saw now that there was a list of words there.
“Good, good,” Gabby cooed. “Such a good baby. So smart!” She dropped a kiss on Izzy’s forehead.
Reese’s heart twisted.
She loved her baby, that much was clear. And she was trying her best to manage as a single mom, which couldn’t be easy. Gabby’s family had never had much money, and looking around the shabby kitchen, he knew nothing had changed on the financial side.
His aunt’s voice echoed in his mind. “People think she’s yours.”
Did people really think that? Should he and Gabby try to disabuse folks of the notion?
Who was Izzy’s father?
After a few more minutes around the table, with Jacob telling ridiculous stories about the boys and dogs, Nana adjourned to her room and Jacob to his to play video games. Gabby excused herself to put Izzy to bed.
Reese started carrying dishes to the kitchen, humming a little, stepping carefully over Pickles, who’d chosen this moment to weave in and out between Reese’s feet, purring and rubbing for attention.