'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books

by Mimi Barbour

  “Yes, I suppose I did.” Marcus, ever watchful, knew Madeline had recognized the message that Abbie had conveyed, and was glad she’d decided not to spoil the mood with her remorse or confessions. “I did tell you I went to the hospital to see Abbie, didn’t I? What you don’t know is that it was in that visit I discovered her real identity.”

  “Yes, we know. In your typical rambling fashion, especially when you’re upset, you did tell us you knew who Abbie’s parents were, but you had us believing she was your child.”

  “Us?” I specifically remember you being alone, Marcus.”

  “Yes, you’re right, silly of me. But you did lead me to believe you were her mother.”

  “ What? Oh, no, I never said such a thing. Why would I? It isn’t true, now, is it?”

  Marcus, eyebrow raised, looked toward Abbie and shrugged. She smiled and shrugged also.

  Madeline continued to speak as if there hadn’t been an interruption. “I was curious,” she added, self-defence evident. “Everyone talked about her. And being slightly nosy…” Her thumb and finger measured an inch between them. “I wanted to see this paragon for myself…and…fine, I did sense that you had an interest in her that you couldn’t hide.” Sheepishly she looked at the other two, and when they nodded, she continued.

  “The moment I saw you lying there, Abbie, the spitting image of your mother, at least what she looked like at your age, I had my first inkling. Despite your appearance, I still wasn’t completely sure until I checked your eyes. Yours have the same deep gorgeous hues as your father’s.” She knew why they both looked stunned, and she added, “I lifted your eyelid and peeked. Plus the fact that you’d grown up in the orphanage confirmed my suspicions. I had no doubt who you were. But, as you know, when we tried to get you back after Corrie’s first husband passed on, we were told you had died. I’d convinced her to reclaim you. That we’d manage somehow. That she needed her child since she’d lost her husband.”

  Abbie glanced at Marcus’ startled reaction and interrupted. “My mother had wanted me to be called Anne and had left those instructions with the nuns. Seems there already was a child with that name, and the poor baby had passed away.”

  He nodded and cocked his eyebrow at his mother to resume her tale, interest evident in his face.

  Madeline continued. “Sadly, the Sisters’ horrible announcement made fetching you impossible. Later, after the war ended, I knew Hans had found your mother and, because he’d become a diplomat and could speak perfect French, they’d been posted in Paris. We kept in touch over the years, but when I moved to the States after Marcus’ father passed away, we had little contact other than cards at Christmas and the occasional telephone call. You can’t imagine their shock when I showed up on their doorstep a few days ago to give them the happy news.”

  Dryly, Marcus spoke up. “You didn’t think to warn them before you descended unannounced?”

  “Not at all. I knew they’d tried to start a family after they married, and I also knew how desperate they were for children. How sad they were, believing their only child had passed on. Therefore I had no doubt of how much happiness my surprise would bring them. I never hesitated. And I was right, wasn’t I, Abbie? They were overjoyed to meet you?”

  “As I was to meet them. I fell in love with both, right from the start. My father… It feels strange for me to use that term…” She beamed at the other two beaming back at her. “My father and mother made me feel important to them and very much wanted. They seemed like such a lovely couple. To tell the truth, I can’t wait to get to know them better, so we can form a true family relationship. Let’s face it: it isn’t every day an orphan can gain not only one but two new families all at once. Speaking of family, I need to get to Holly Mount today and see Nicholas. Poor little bloke, he must be pining away by now. The Sisters will have had their hands full.”

  Marcus pressed Abbie’s fingers still resting in his. He held on tight. Grief choked him. Nothing made sense in his own mind, so how the hell was he supposed to explain it to Abbie? He’d put off the moment long enough, he knew that, but he dreaded watching her happiness dissolve into anguish when he told her about his latest talk with Sister Agnes. He looked away to gather his thoughts.

  His hesitation lasted too long. Before he’d formed the words, she surprised him. “The vicar told me how you’d been to visit Nicholas and had kept him from becoming too frantic.” She turned to Madeleine, whose puzzlement had become noticeable. “Nicholas is an infant at the orphanage, one I’ve become very attached to. He doesn’t cope well if I stay away from him for too long, but he seems to have also formed a connection with Marcus.” Once Madeline nodded that she understood, Abbie turned back to Marcus. “I can’t thank you enough, darling. I know you aren’t comfortable in the parenting role, and therefore you’re taking the time to visit him, and your kind concern for the little chap, becomes much more meaningful.”

  Bloody hell! Now he had to burst her bubble. Words exploded as his restraint failed. They brought tears to the eyes of two, and confusion to the other.

  “Sister Agnes has received a telegram from the church authorities requesting that she sign Nicholas’ adoption papers, Abbie. A young couple want to adopt him. A London couple whose family are related to the Bishop himself. The church has granted them special dispensation to fast-track the procedure. Sister had no other option but to agree.”

  All colour ebbed from her face as Abbie stared at him, astonished. “What? How could this happen? Sister said nothing to me about anybody interested in taking him away.”

  “Precisely for your own good, because she knew that as an unmarried girl you couldn’t stop it. When she told me yesterday, I said that I wanted him, but again she refused because of my single status.”

  “So, he was the baby you were talking about when I arrived last night, the one you wanted for me?”

  “Yes. This morning I called her to tell her about our engagement and to ask her to inform the other couple to get stuffed. We had a prior claim. But she began to weep and admitted we’re too late. Oh, Abbie. Even though she’s devastated, she can do nothing.”

  “No! Oh, Marcus, not my Nicholas.”

  Madeline’s arms reached to gather in the weeping girl, but Marcus beat her to it. “It’s okay, Mother, I’ll look after her. Maybe you could call her parents and ask them if they’d like to stay with us for a few days. I’ve no doubt that having them near will soothe her misery somewhat.”

  She couldn’t look him straight in the eye, and he knew why even before she replied, “I already invited them to stay, Marcus.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He sent his mother a fond glance; he couldn’t help it. The little schemer never let him down.

  “I knew you wouldn’t mind, under the circumstances. I just wasn’t aware that Abbie would be here with us, also. I’ll go and call them right now, explain the sad circumstances, and then get their rooms organized. Unfortunately, as much as I hate to leave Abbie feeling so unhappy, I also have to go to the church hall for a short while to see if the rehearsal for tonight fares well, and that Sister Agnes has everything she needs for the children’s performances. Assuming that upsets happen at the best-organized concerts, I have no doubt we’ll have a few to deal with at ours. And the vicar will be hyperventilating if he has to handle those emergencies alone. We can’t have that, now, can we?”

  Madeline’s hand smoothed Abbie’s flyaway curls and returned her wobbly smile. Then she bent to kiss both Abbie’s and Marcus’ cheeks. “Look after our girl, son.”

  Marcus waited for the door to close after Madeline, and then he held Abbie away from him so he could peer into her blotched features. “Darling, I did try to talk Sister out of her decision, but she could do nothing. The Brownings have been in the picture longer than either of us were aware.”

  “That’s their name? The Brownings?”

  “Yes. They’re a young couple, from what Sister tells me, and they adore the lad. Surely they’ll give him a good home
, and he’ll be well loved.”

  Sniffling, she replied, “I do hope so, Marcus. I only want the best for my little man.”

  Marcus gathered her onto his lap and held her close. She sobbed into his neck, and her hot tears seared his skin. At that moment, he’d have given everything he owned if he could have eased her heartache.

  And his.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Having her distress soothed with snuggles and kisses did help Abbie come to grips with what couldn’t be changed. She worked things out by talking to herself like she’d always done in moments of stress. She had to accept that a lot of things would be different from now on. Being married and living here with Marcus. Having wonderful new relatives, who would hopefully end up as good friends. But then again, some things would remain the same. Such as the job she loved, helping the vicar.

  Face it. You’ll still be the luckiest lass in the world, she told herself. There simply won’t be a little nipper who relies on you as his surrogate mum. Her heart felt heavy, like a huge weight lay on top of it, making it sluggish and sore. Poor Marcus, he’d wanted so badly to protect her, he’d even been willing to adopt the child himself. She was most certainly a lucky woman. Look on the bright side, she urged. All is not lost. You and Marcus can have a family of your own one day.

  Time for acceptance. She knew it would be up to her to act on it. Pushing away from Marcus’ arms, she sat up, wiped the residue of anguish from her face, and requested, “Marcus, would you drive me home before my parents arrive, so I can fetch a few things? I’ll need to get a change of clothes, collect my toiletries, and pick up some gifts for tonight.”

  She watched the relief appear. “Need you ask? Of course I’ll drive you home, dear. Would you like to leave right away?”

  “Yes. I think it best we go now. I don’t want my parents arriving to an empty house.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting your family,” he said. “Since they’ll want to make up for lost time, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of them in the future.”

  Once outside, it became clear the strange storm of the night before had worn itself out, and they were again rewarded by sunshine and unnaturally blue skies. Today Bury resembled a beautiful scene on a Christmas card. The glare from the accumulation of snow made them squint, and the beauty of their surroundings was eclipsed only by the fresh whiteness and clean, crisp smell that lingered in the air.

  The black Lab trotted out from under the steps and attached himself to Abbie’s side. Happy to see him, she petted and hugged and then looked beseechingly at Marcus, who grudgingly allowed the animal to get into the back of the vehicle.

  “If you jump around or make any noise, I will stop and you will get out. Understood?” Marcus glared at the unrepentant canine, which answered with a woof and then leaned back against the seat and ignored him.

  Who wouldn’t enjoy such a scene of one male trying to dominate another, Abbie thought. A bit happier now, she sat quietly in the front, and soon she noted what was happening all around.

  Children, taking full advantage of the beautiful weather, were sliding and playing on their sledges, while the older ones were having snowball fights. The sounds of merriment cheered her. Smells of wood smoke, carried on crisp breezes, awakened her to the joys of the wintry season. High banks full of glistening white snow lined the roadway, and she imagined the car travelling between frosted crystal walls, dangerous walls because of blocking the driver’s view, but driving was still much easier now that the roads had been cleared.

  Everywhere were signs of the holidays, including wreaths on most doors and decorations on many windows. People were getting ready for the big day, and Abbie felt very much out of it. Normally, this season, her favourite, had her busy from morning until night, looking after her special charges, doing everything she could for those less fortunate. This year, things hadn’t worked out the same at all.

  As they got closer to her home, her thoughts milled around, jumping from one topic to another, trying to stay away from the one that would bring her down.

  Reflecting on the holiday preparations she’d been working on for months, she decided that being organized was a good thing. Presents for everyone were wrapped and ready—except for Marcus, Madeline and her parents, none of whom she’d even known when she made her earlier preparations—and gifts for them wouldn’t pose any real problems. Extra scarves and mittens she’d knitted for the Sisters’ sale tables, thanks to Mrs. Dorn’s lessons, could be used for each of her new relatives. There was a beautiful grey set that would be perfect for Marcus.

  She glanced at him, and returned the gentle smile he sent her way. Worn out from her sorrow, and feeling bad for putting the poor bloke through the wringer, she decided she had to adjust and try to lighten their spirits. Huge breaths, concentration on the good things in her life, and her natural resilience helped. Unfortunately, she didn’t realize how seeing the orphanage and not being able to enter would break her strong resolve and have tears again seeping from under her lashes.

  Feeling a wet tongue bestow a canine kiss on her cheek made her sigh. But seeing the same appendage lick Marcus’ cheek, well, that made her smile.

  He ignored the offered condolence, but she liked it that he didn’t take offence. “Don’t cry, Love. I swear if I could have prevented this from happening, I would have. But there was absolutely nothing I could do. With the Bishop backing the other couple, our own application didn’t stand a chance. Even though Sister Agnes would have given us priority because we live here.”

  “I’ve accepted the inevitable, Marcus, but I still don’t know why Sister wouldn’t let us come to be with Nicholas right now. You know how he is when we stay away too long. He gets so distraught that no one can calm him. I can’t stand thinking of him suffering, crying for me, and me not going to him. It breaks my heart.” So saying, she dissolved again, withdrawing previously dampened tissues from her pocket and shuffling through the mass trying to find an unused one.

  Hearing Marcus clear his throat, she glanced his way and then accepted the clean hankie he held.

  “She said something about weaning him away from his attachment,” he said. “Plus, he’s to be the baby Jesus tonight, and they wanted him to behave at his best.” She cocked her head and looked at him disbelievingly. “I know, it doesn’t make sense. My guess is that his new parents are to be there today, and she didn’t want you running into them and becoming upset. Especially so soon after your recovery.”

  She wiped her eyes, straightened her shoulders, and inhaled unsteadily. “Marcus, I’m worried about Cece, also. She’s formed a connection to him and will be distressed when they take him away.”

  “I know, my dear. I’ve seen how she worries over him like a miniature mother. But Cece will be performing tonight, especially for you, and so I’m sure they’ll keep her busy and unaware of what’s happening. You know, she’s learned every word of the first few verses of ‘Away in the Manager’ and intends to sing it all by herself? It’s all she’s been talking about since you’ve been—shall we say—incommunicado.”

  Abbie smiled and felt the heaviness in her heart lighten. She pictured the little darling, who, once she’d set her mind to something, couldn’t be stopped. Abbie reached over to cling to Marcus’ hand, and her spirits lifted when she thought about seeing the little girl later that evening.

  He stopped the vehicle and, before they went into the cottage to gather what she would need for staying at his house, he slid toward her and took her in his arms. “I’ll give you all the babies you want, Darling. Dogs, babies, anything to keep you happy.” His kiss sealed the promise with such aching tenderness that she knew she should count her lucky stars. Even though she was about to lose someone she loved, she’d gained so much more, and with that she’d make herself be satisfied.

  ****

  Back at Marcus’ house, together with Madeline and her parents, the rest of the day passed slowly, filled with reminiscences and stories from each of them in turn.
Marcus, quiet as usual, sat near her, ever watchful. Between his undivided attention, the dog’s hovering while periodically whining and licking her hand, and both her parents’ and Madeline’s kind concern, Abbie felt wholly loved.

  The dreadful heartache receded but never quite left as she gave the best performance of her life. Her mum’s poodle, Bertie, scratched at her knee until she picked him up, as if he sensed her unhappiness and decided his furry, warm, little body would give her comfort. And Mate simply looked on understandingly.

  Toward evening, she slipped her presents under the tree and felt astonished to see how many gifts had magically appeared tagged with her name. While the Christmas lights twinkled and the ornaments glowed, the tinsel shimmered pure silver, alive from the fire’s reflections. She wandered up to the mantel, where Madeline had placed a wonderful nativity scene. The figurines looked to be antiques, and well loved. They reminded her of the celebration she would be at later, and of Cece, who’d be performing specially for her.

  Numbering her blessings, as was her nature, Abbie shook off the lingering sadness. She looked into the nearby mirror and liked what she saw. Her hair gleamed from being freshly shampooed, and her silky, short-skirted red dress, made purposely for the holidays, looked professionally sewn. The high-heeled slippers to match added to her height and gave her confidence.

  The dinner table, fancied up with a white linen tablecloth, tall red candles, crystal glasses, lavish dishes, and an arrangement of fresh poinsettias, was set up next to the tree to take advantage of the room’s ambience. Marcus’ part-time housekeeper had prepared a wonderful meal that inundated the room with incredible smells of turkey and stuffing, puddings, and mulled wine. The woman was to spend the next day with her own family, and therefore she’d cooked them a special treat tonight, both for Christmas and in celebration of their engagement. Abbie had finally gotten to meet that paragon, and had taken to her straight off.