by Ginny Baird
Both of his parents pushed back in their chairs and stared at each other.
“Don’t you think the cops would have mentioned it?” William asked, a slight edge to his voice.
William couldn’t believe it. His dad almost looked disappointed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Besides,” William added, “she doesn’t exactly look like the hardened criminal type.”
Emma shook her head. “What about the children? How are they taking it?”
William frowned. “Carmella thinks Santa brought her.”
Grant chuckled and William cast him a cursory glance.
“And Justin?” Emma asked.
In the next room, Justin eagerly pawed through Bridget’s gifts. “I say we open all of them.”
“You heard what Daddy said.”
“Yeah... don’t touch! So, I won’t. I’ll just open and peek inside.” He yanked off the gift tag, hooting. “For Koochie, for us to be naughty and nice...”
“Koochie?” Carmella puzzled. “Do you think that’s for Daddy?”
“One way to find out!”
He tore back the wrapping of a long box and Carmella lunged forward. “Justin!”
Before she could stop him, he’d dispensed with the rest of the paper and flipped open the lid. “Well, well, well...” Justin fell back whooping holding up a skimpy black-and-red lace teddy.
Just then, the adults entered the room.
“Why son,” Grant said discreetly to William. “You buy that getup for Goldie?”
“Goldie? Hey, no! Wait!
Carmela stuck out her bottom lip. “No, Poppy. These are from Bridget.” She purposefully collected the lingerie and deposited it with William. “Here, Daddy. I think this is for you.”
William held the lace teddy, which dangled down in front of him. “No, honey, I don’t think it’s my size.” If someone had stuck hot coals to his face, it couldn’t have felt any warmer. Then he looked up to spy Bridget on the stairs, and felt himself combust from heat all over.
Lucy stopped walking and gaped at William holding a racy teddy and standing beside the Christmas tree. His face was the color of cinnamon, while Carmella pouted and the tween rollicked with laughter on the floor.
“Hello, dear!” a neatly dressed older woman called.
A man with abysmal fashion sense stood beside her and grinned. “You must be Bridget!”
“You’re awake,” William said, his voice cracking.
Frankly, this moment seemed a fine time to turn around. “No, actually I’m—”
“Sleepwalking?” Justin asked.
Carmella shook her head at her brother. “She’s not sleepwalking, you Dumbo. Can’t you see?”
“Why don’t you come on down here and join us?” the older man said.
“Yes, dear,” his wife agreed. “We’d like the chance to get to know you better.”
That would be ideal, if only she had a way to understand herself. Who was this family, and how had she gotten mixed up with all of them? She recalled the sofa, remembered waking up here this morning quite well. It was all that came before that was a blur.
William shoved the lace teddy in his pocket with an embarrassed look. “Do come downstairs, if you’re able. Do you need help?”
“No,” she said uncertainly. “Thanks. I think I’ve got it.”
A little while later, they sat around the family dining table where William carved a large turkey. Lucy had learned his parents were named Emma and Grant, and that the tween’s name was Justin. Justin was slightly snarky, but Lucy supposed that came with the territory. Little Carmella, on the other hand, was simply adorable. She was so intent on Lucy being her Mommy, Lucy hadn’t known what to think, or say, about any of it. While she’d gathered from the conversation that William had lost his wife some time ago, she wasn’t sure how long it had been or under what circumstances. How hard that must be on William, handling this all on his own.
“White meat or dark?” he asked, meeting Lucy’s eyes. But she truthfully didn’t know. Lucy shrugged and Emma laughed, warmly patting her hand. A light mix of 1940s jazz played in the background. The music was comforting, and familiar, to Lucy at once, and yet—she couldn’t place it.
“Don’t worry, dear. It will all come back, eventually.”
“The trip to the doctor’s sure to help,” Grant said.
“Doctor?” Lucy wondered.
William laid another slice of turkey on a platter. “I forgot to mention. I’m taking you to see Dr. Mass tomorrow.”
Emma smiled reassuringly. “He’s been our family physician for years.”
Lucy felt her face warm. They were all being so kind to her. Had to be the Christmas spirit. “You don’t know what it means to me, how nice you’ve been. I mean, I could have wound up anywhere, really. There are bound to be terrible places out there.”
“Yes, right,” Grant said.
“Bound to be,” Emma added.
Dinner passed with Emma and Grant asking the grandkids what they’d been up to, and how their friends were in school. Everyone seemed to get on reasonably well, even William with his parents, despite their eccentricities. Serving plates circled round and round until Lucy was sure she’d eaten enough to hibernate for winter.
“More stuffing, dear?” Emma asked, hovering a brimming ladle over her dinner plate.
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Lucy said. “I’m stuffed!”
“Tell us about the elves,” Carmella said sweetly.
Justin grinned in her direction. “Yes, do tell us about those elves. Are they ordering from Victoria’s Secret now?”
William and Grant turned on him at once, parroting together, “What would you know about Victoria’s Secret?”
Carmella looked around the table. “Who’s Victoria and what’s her secret?”
Emma gave Grant a hard elbow and spoke in low tones. “What would you know about Victoria’s Secret?”
Grant coughed loudly, as William cleared his throat.
“I’m sure Bridget has better things to talk about. Don’t you, Bridget?”
He met her gaze, and Lucy’s heart stilled. With him sitting there, and her sitting here, at opposite ends of the table, she could almost imagine them as husband and wife. And what a marvelous husband he’d make, too. He was accomplished, and settled, she thought, glancing around at the comfortable place. Not rich, but well off enough, and boy did he ever seem to love his family. From the happy feel in the room, the emotion was mutual. Not only that, he was easy on the eyes. Way too easy. Lucy tucked the hand wearing the engagement ring in her lap, wondering if the guy she planned to marry was half as grand. A sultry rendition of Billy Holiday singing “All of Me” played in the background. Take my lips, I want to lose them... take my arms, I’ll never use them... How can I go on without you...?
William stared at her expectantly, and Lucy realized he was waiting for her to say something.
“This stuffing is delicious,” she said, suddenly lifting the serving bowl. “I think I will have some more.”
“Do you cook much, dear?” Emma asked.
Lucy realized she was making a glutton of herself, nervously heaping mound upon mound on her plate. She stopped and looked up. “Um... cook?” Now, that was something she was used to being around. But, doing? Hmm. “Honestly, I can’t exactly tell you. But I do know this, I’m totally used to being around food.”
William grinned at her, oddly charmed by this. “Anything in particular, or everything in general?”
Lucy thought hard, willing even the tiniest tidbit to come to mind. Her eyes fell on a candy dish of green-and-red-wrapped holiday chocolates sitting on the sideboard. “Chocolate,” she said brightly, knowing that was right. “Anything—and everything—chocolate.”
Carmella appeared inordinately pleased. “No fooling? Daddy loves chocolate, too.”
Justin lowered his eyebrows. “Yeah. He does the most disgusting thing with—”
“Justin, knock it off,” William said,
plainly embarrassed.
“Yes well, enough of that,” Emma said. “Just let me clear the plates and I’ll serve dessert.”
“Bodacious bourbon pecan?” William asked.
Emma nodded.
“Make mine a double!” Justin said.
Lucy felt awkward not offering to help. “Here, let me take some of these,” she said standing. At once, her knees buckled, sending her back into her chair.
“I think you’d best stay off your feet a bit longer,” William said with a kind look. “At least until your legs feel steady.”
Lucy met his eyes and her cheeks caught fire. He was so kind and caring. With that sensible banker haircut, she might never have known it just passing him on the street. But in here, all cozied up with his family, she saw William for who he really was. He was the sort of man who looked after people. It was a feeling that Lucy hadn’t known in a long while. That much, she believed was true. Even if she couldn’t trust in anything else.
By the time coffee and dessert were over, Lucy had gathered her reserves and was feeling much better. She’d insisted William let her dry the dishes, and after a bit of lighthearted banter, he’d given in.
“You don’t stay put very well, do you?” he asked, as she finished up.
“Please, William. I want to... need to do something to help.” She set a clean pot on the counter and capped it with its lid. “The dinner was delicious, thank you.”
He studied her with earnest brown eyes. “And I want to thank you, too. Thank you for playing along with Carmella. It would break her heart if she knew the truth.”
“I’d sure like to know it. I’m hoping the doctor can help tomorrow.”
He leaned back against the counter, studying her. “You know, I don’t believe in that Santa bit, of course, but I’d sure like to know how you got in my house.”
“Yeah, me too. You say everything was locked up tight?”
“As a drum.”
“Maybe there’s a rusty basement lock, or unsecured window?”
“What kind of father do you think I am? I double-check this place every night. It’s just like Fort Knox.”
Lucy drew a breath. “Well, I certainly didn’t drop down the chimney.”
He met her eyes and his gaze lingered. “At least we’ve agreed on that.”
The seconds ticked by as Lucy watched him watch her, her heart pounding. She didn’t know this man from Adam, but still, when she was with him, she had an uncanny sensation of being home.
“Still nothing doing on the memory?” he asked.
“Except for some weird little details, like knowing I love chocolate, I just draw a blank.” She hung her head. “I feel really terrible. I’ve ruined everyone’s Christmas.”
William reached over and gently raised her chin in his hand. “Don’t you go worrying about that. You haven’t ruined our Christmas at all. But someone out there is sure to be having a rotten night.” He glanced down at her engagement ring, then once more met her eyes. “Someone’s bound to be looking for you.”
A few miles away, Mitch checked the wall clock in his real estate office, cursing out loud. It was snowing even harder than yesterday. He hadn’t even made it home last night, despite his four-wheel drive. He’d had to sleep at the office. Mitch stared through the plate-glass window at the pounding snow, knowing his chances of getting out of here now were slim to none. But heck, he had lots to take care of anyway. He could get a jump on those closing papers, and snooze in the break room when he needed to. Yeah, there was a plan, he thought, taking another swing of eggnog from the quart carton on his desk.
He scooped up his cell and dialed Lucy’s number.
Hi, it’s me. Leave a message at the beep.
“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas. It’s me, Mitch. Say, I really hate to do this to you again. But Luce, if only you knew the size of this deal. I’m serious. This one is the grand tostado. I mean, loaded. We’ll have everything we always wanted, just you wait and see. The two-car garage, a whole closet full of clothes just your size. Luce, you’ll even be able to cut back on your hours at the diner. Maybe quit your job completely.
“The only thing is, hon, I’ve got to get this contract faxed by midnight. Now, I know this is a holiday and all, and I feel so totally terrible about you spending it alone. But, I swear, I’ll make the whole thing up to you. Next year will be completely different.”
Out on the porch, William said good night to his parents. He’d tossed on his coat so he could speak to them in confidence, but the down parka was a poor barrier against the biting wind. “Mom, Dad,” he said, as Grant wrapped himself in his big, brown scarf, “I want to thank you both for everything. The gifts were really terrific.”
“Yeah, especially the pretty blond one,” Grant said.
Emma tugged at her gloves, adjusting their fit. “What are you going to do with her?”
“Like I said, I’m planning on taking her to the doctor tomorrow. Maybe he can help us figure out why she can’t remember.”
“Or what she can’t remember,” Emma said. “I want you to be careful, William. Now, I know she seems nice... But sometimes the quiet ones turn out to be the most dangerous.”
“Your mother’s right, son,” Grant said. “You really don’t know anything about this girl. Are you sure you want her spending the night? This isn’t college, you know.”
“I appreciate your concern, both of yours. Really I do. But I can take care of myself.”
His mother met his eyes. “It’s the children we’re worried about. Little Carmella really has her hopes up. We had no idea.”
“I know, Mom,” William said sincerely. “I had no clue, either.”
A fire blazed in the hearth as Carmella snuggled up against Lucy, who read to her on the sofa. “And laying his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose…” Carmella’s eyes drooped and she cooed happily, gently fading into slumber as Lucy uttered the final lines, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.” Lucy quietly closed the book, yawning herself. It had been such an eventful day, and who knew what tomorrow would bring? At the moment, she was cozy and warm, and way overstuffed with stuffing.
Justin looked up from a wing chair beside the Christmas tree, where he’d been engrossed in a handheld game. “You act like you actually know something about it,” he said bitterly.
Lucy glanced down at the book, then met his eyes. “Well, I do. I mean, this story, of course. It was always one of my favorites to read.” She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. What is it about this place? This room? “Right here, by this fire.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Justin,” she asked, her eyelids growing heavy. “Just what is it that you don’t like about me?”
“The same thing I don’t like about all girls. You’re weird. In fact, you’re the weirdest. If you think I buy that Santa dropped me down the chimney business...”
She wanted to stay awake, really she did. She needed to talk to William about tomorrow, and sleeping arrangements for tonight. But the firelight was so soothing. She and Carmella together felt so right. It took her back to an earlier time, a time when the world was safe and family meant home. Even Justin’s snarking couldn’t combat the lull of the Sandman, beckoning her to drift away. A song came back, a lullaby, she thought... her mother’s voice, rich and warm. And then, she felt her body sag into the sofa, all tension letting go.
When William reentered the house, he encountered an idyllic scene. Bridget and Carmella dozed together on the sofa, The Night Before Christmas, by Clement C. Moore, clutched in Bridget’s hand. It was an old edition, one his parents had read to him as a child many years before.
He quietly hung his coat on the rack, not wishing to disturb them. William swallowed hard, resisting the warmth in his eyes. He couldn’t recall having seen Carmella so contented in a long, long time. At least that made one of them, William thought, noting Justin’s glum appearance in the wing chair nearby. He played his new video
game with intensity, yet his expression was sullen.
“Time for bed, Justin,” William said softly.
“But, Dad...” he protested
“Up!” William commanded, thinking it had been a full day for all of them.
Justin rose begrudgingly, casting a wary eye on Bridget. “Who is she really?”
“I don’t know, son. But I’m sure as heck going to try to find out.”
“Yeah, well, you’d better. Before she does any more damage around here.”
“Damage?”
“Just look at them, Dad. How do you think Carmella’s going to get over this? She’s already lost one mom.”
“Yes, son. And so have you.”
“Here’s the different between me and the fuzz brain. I don’t want another mom any time soon. The one we had before was good enough to last me.”
He stormily trudged upstairs, leaving William confounded. Justin was at such a hard age, William didn’t know how to handle him half the time. And lately, he’d been more and more out of sorts. Having Bridget intrude on his holiday apparently hadn’t sat well with him, either. But William needed to work on the boy. It was good for him to understand that charity came first, at the holidays especially. It wasn’t like Bridget had chosen to come here. She was just as confused about her circumstances as the rest of them were.
Well, best to get everyone settled for the night so they could move on with solving things tomorrow. William leaned forward to scoop the sleeping Carmella into his arms, then suddenly he pulled back. He studied the portrait before him, a deep melancholy taking hold. They truly were a picture together, Carmella in her springy curls and Bridget with her arm wrapped protectively around the little girl. William stood there for a long while, firelight lapping at his face. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to stem the tide of his emotions. But they welled within him, anyway. And, in that moment, William understood that Carmella hadn’t been the only one hoping for someone else in this house. In his heart, he’d wanted someone, too.
