by Kate James
Paige’s smile wavered. In response, Daniel gave her a questioning look. She thought he might have been about to speak, but Jason hooted gleefully and nudged him. “Look, Mr. Kinsley, it worked! Just like you said!”
In the face of Jason’s obvious delight, Paige’s momentary sadness—or perhaps longing—was gone. After a final, probing glance, Daniel turned back to Jason.
Paige wiped her suddenly damp palms on her jeans and strolled over to where they worked. “Would you railway engineers like something to drink?”
“Apple juice,” Jason responded. At her pointed glare, he quickly added, “Please. See, Mom?” He gave a car on the track a slight push and sent it gliding smoothly around. “That’s the engine car. The pieces are so well-balanced, and the track’s so smooth, it goes all that way on its own. Mr. Kinsley says that’s iner...inertia. When something that’s moving wants to keep moving.” He glanced at Daniel for affirmation.
“Correct, my little conductor.” Daniel said and ruffled his hair.
Jason beamed. He picked up the car and held it out for his mother to examine. “And see, this here?” He indicated the pointed front of the piece. “It’s called a cow catcher.” When she raised an eyebrow, Jason giggled and went on. “Don’t worry, Mom. It doesn’t really catch cows. It’s just a name for it. It pushes stuff from the track that might cause the train to go off the rails. I bet Mr. Kinsley knows why it’s called that!”
They both looked at Daniel. He shrugged. “It’s because in the early days of the railroads, there were cows wandering across the tracks.” When Jason returned his attention to the train set, Daniel held Paige’s gaze. “What can I say? I know all sorts of useless things. Sometimes it actually comes in handy.”
“I can see that. Can I get you anything to drink? A coffee, maybe?” She hesitated. “I’m afraid I don’t have any wine.”
Daniel glanced up. “No problem. I’ll have what the kid’s having.”
“Okay.” She turned and went to the kitchen. Moments later she was back with two tumblers of apple juice, which she placed on coasters on the small end table. “Dinner’s nearly ready. Jason, when you’re finished, can you set the table, please?”
Jason scrambled to his feet. “Sure. We’re done.” Grinning at Daniel, he asked, “Can we start it?”
Daniel nodded. “You’re the conductor. Start it whenever you’re ready.”
“All right. Watch, Mom!” Jason threw the switch. He did a triumphant little dance—like a football player after a touchdown—as the train chugged around the track. All three of them cheered and clapped. Jason’s face was flushed, and there was a sparkle in his eyes. “Isn’t it great, Mom?”
“It’s wonderful, sweetie.” She bent to give him a hug, then a gentle swat on his behind. “Now the table, please.”
Daniel rose, too. To Paige’s surprise, Jason threw both arms around him. “Thanks. Thanks so much!”
Paige was grateful to Daniel not only for his generosity with the gifts but also for helping Jason with the train set. Mixed with her gratitude was guilt that they’d kept him from his own Christmas celebrations for so long. Although she was positive he’d be anxious to leave, it was nearly dinnertime. Since he had supplied all the food, in addition to everything else, the least she could do was ask him if he’d like to join them for dinner.
“I’d love to stay, if it’s not an intrusion,” he responded to Paige’s utter shock. He went on to explain that his parents were in Newport, and he had no plans of his own.
It hadn’t occurred to Paige that he would actually accept her invitation. She’d been certain that Daniel would be celebrating Christmas with family and friends, perhaps a girlfriend. Even more unexpectedly, she felt a surge of happiness that he’d be staying with them a while longer. He seemed like such a kind man, and he was a natural with Jason. She couldn’t remember a time she’d seen her son happier.
“Paige?”
She’d been so deep in thought that she’d missed what Daniel had said. Disconcerted, she fixed a smile on her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.”
“I said, if you’re going to feed me, I should help set the table.”
“Oh, that would be nice. Thanks.”
Jason looked up at his mother. “Mom, before we do, can I show Mr. Kinsley some of my paintings?”
Paige nodded. “Of course, if he’s interested. We still have some time.” And it would give her a chance to let the peculiar flutter in her stomach settle.
Jason reached for Daniel’s hand and tugged with excitement. “Come and see!”
Daniel glanced over his shoulder at Paige as Jason pulled him toward his room. Paige returned his smile with an unsteady one of her own before they disappeared into Jason’s bedroom.
*
JASON’S SMALL HAND in Daniel’s, holding tightly, gave him a warm feeling and an uncharacteristic sense of yearning. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure.
He didn’t spend a lot of time with kids. His main exposure was through the kids’ softball team he coached. Even that he’d been coerced into by the partners in his law firm. The son of one of his partners played on the team, the firm was the official team sponsor, and his partners knew about his affinity for baseball. They’d cajoled and pushed and prodded until he’d finally agreed to be an assistant coach. Once he got involved, he discovered that he enjoyed it and that he liked kids.
Even so, he couldn’t remember ever holding a child’s hand before.
His palm felt cold, decidedly empty, when Jason withdrew his hand.
“Look!” Jason pointed to the paintings affixed to the corkboard over his desk.
“You did those?”
“Yeah!”
Daniel stuck his hands in his pockets and bent forward. He examined each painting carefully. He focused on one in particular, with an orange-and-black tiger nearly filling the page. The tiger’s long tail was curled, his face turned toward the viewer, mouth open in a snarl. He seemed ready to pounce. Vertical black lines represented the bars of a cage. The overall impression was of a tiger caged but not conquered. As Daniel moved his head sideways, the tiger’s eyes seemed to follow his. “This one.” Daniel pointed to the painting. “The tiger looks ready to spring, not quite accepting that he’s captive.”
Jason nodded, his face flushed. “Yes! Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to show.”
Daniel gestured to another picture. “And this one. It looks like the acrobat is swinging from the trapeze.” The corded muscles, the extended neck, the apparent sway of the body with the rope. Jason had talent, remarkable talent for a kid of his age. He knew how to capture details and movement. “These are great!”
Jason’s face turned a bright shade of pink. “Thanks. I like to paint.”
A number of the paintings were circus-themed, and Daniel remembered wondering when he’d read Jason’s Christmas wish list how he’d developed a fascination with circuses. “Have you ever been to a circus?” he asked.
Jason shuffled his feet. “Nah. I’ve wanted to go since I was little, but Mom says they aren’t around anymore.”
“So, where did you get the ideas for the paintings?”
“I had a toy circus when I was a kid. I still have some of the pieces. And I got books from the library.” In a more subdued tone, he added, “Except the tiger. I saw him at the zoo.”
“Your paintings are very good,” Daniel repeated. “I do like the tiger the most.”
“Would you like to have one?” Jason asked.
“You worked very hard on these. Are you sure you want to give one away?”
“Yeah. Like a Christmas present. You got us a whole bunch of stuff, but we didn’t get you anything. So I can give you a painting. I painted pictures for our neighbors, too, for Christmas. And for Grandma and Gramps.”
“Okay. Which one would you like to give me?”
Jason’s brows drew together, and he pulled at his upper lip as he contemplated his paintings. His face was very serious when he looked up at Daniel.
“The tiger. You said you liked it best.”
“Yes, I do.”
Jason scrambled up on his chair and carefully unpinned the painting. He climbed down and rummaged through a desk drawer, taking out a large envelope. Then he slid the painting into the envelope and handed it to Daniel.
“I really appreciate this, Jason. Thank you. It’s the best gift I’ve received this year.”
Jason’s cheeks darkened from pink to red, and his chest swelled as they left his room.
When they rejoined Paige, she looked at her son, then at the envelope in Daniel’s hand. “What’s that?”
“It’s one of my paintings,” Jason said. “I gave it to Mr. Kinsley. As a Christmas present.”
Paige’s gaze moved from her son to Daniel and back. “That’s nice of you.”
“Jason is very talented. I’m honored that he’d give me one of his paintings. They’re all excellent, but I did favor this one.”
Paige smiled at Jason. “Which one did you give Mr. Kinsley?”
Jason stared down at his socks and scuffed his toes on the carpet. “The one he liked best,” he said evasively.
“It’s the painting of the tiger,” Daniel supplied.
“Oh.” Paige’s smile faltered. She turned questioning eyes on her son.
Jason was still preoccupied with his socks. Daniel noted the expression on Paige’s face. It showed surprise and something more. He surmised there was a greater significance to the gift than he’d presumed, and he hoped he hadn’t done anything to create friction, however slight.
“Mr. Kinsley said he liked the tiger best.” Jason shifted his feet. “I want him to have it. Okay?”
Mother and child exchanged a look that Daniel couldn’t interpret. “Of course.” Paige opened her arms, and Jason stepped into the quick embrace. There was no mistaking the affection they shared.
Daniel was glad that whatever had caused concern for Paige had passed. “Thanks again.” He ruffled Jason’s hair, which had the little boy grinning up at him so naturally and openly, it seemed to surprise his mother. Daniel dropped his hand lightly onto Jason’s shoulder. “How about we set the table now?”
*
THEY SAT DOWN to dinner not long after, and the conversation flowed comfortably, mostly about Jason, his school and his art.
As they were finishing dessert, Jason could barely keep his eyes open. Paige had begun brewing coffee in her new machine, but she asked Daniel if he wouldn’t mind waiting for the coffee so she could help Jason get ready for bed.
When Paige returned, the dining table had been cleared, and Daniel was in the kitchen, dirty dishes stacked on one side of the sink and his hands in soapy water.
“Oh, my gosh!” Paige rushed over. “You shouldn’t be doing that.”
She reached for the dishcloth, but he easily resisted her effort to grab it. “You made dinner and were kind enough to ask me to join you and Jason. The least I can do is clean up.”
Flustered and embarrassed by having a near-stranger and a guest washing dishes, Paige held out her hand for the dishcloth. “I appreciate it, but I can finish.”
Daniel kept washing the dishes. “Why don’t you make the coffee? When you’re done, you can help me dry.”
Speechless, she did as he suggested, giving Daniel the Christmas mug Chelsea had presented her with last year.
They’d nearly finished their first mug of coffee by the time the dishes were washed, dried and put away. She topped off both their mugs, and they carried them into the living room.
Paige sank onto the sofa, dropped her head back and let out a long sigh. Remembering she wasn’t alone, she abruptly sat up. “I’m so sorry...”
Amusement and understanding danced in Daniel’s eyes. “Don’t be. You’ve had a long, eventful day, following what I’m sure have been quite a few trying—and tiring—days.” He started to rise with his mug in hand. “I should go and let you get some sleep.”
Paige lightly touched his forearm. “No. Please stay. Finish your coffee.”
Daniel watched her for a moment, as if having a silent debate with himself, then nodded and sat back down. He took a sip from his mug. “Thank you again for a wonderful dinner.”
“I’m glad you could be here. It meant a lot to Jason.” She smiled down at the train set on the coffee table. “I don’t think we could’ve figured out how to put it all together, or not in the time it took the two of you.” She set her mug aside, linked her fingers and looked down at her hands. “Thank you for all the gifts. The ones for me were totally unexpected, unnecessary, but very much appreciated. I frankly don’t know what I would’ve done without your generosity.”
Daniel began to protest, but Paige shook her head.
“I don’t have the words to adequately thank you for what you’ve given Jason, and I don’t just mean in a material sense.” She raised her eyes to his. “You’ve made him very happy and taken his mind off...everything, other than the sheer joy of Christmas. He doesn’t have too many opportunities to be a carefree little kid. Today, he was nothing but. I’m more grateful than you can imagine.”
*
DANIEL GLANCED AROUND the room at the many caring touches everywhere—small scented candles burning, the warm, fluffy throw draped over the back of the sofa, the framed photos of family on tables and walls. Through the opening to the kitchen, he could see some of Jason’s drawings attached to the front of the refrigerator with animal-shaped magnets. It all showed love and devotion, something that had been lacking in his own childhood.
Daniel placed his mug next to Paige’s and laid his hand on top of hers. “It meant a lot to me, too. Thank you for sharing your day with me.” He chuckled. “I’ve never enjoyed Christmas much, but today, you and Jason brought new meaning to it for me.”
With a small laugh of her own, Paige drew back her hand and picked up her mug. “Listen to us! I’ll be in tears in a minute if we don’t change the subject, and that would just embarrass both of us.”
He thought otherwise, but he didn’t want to cause her any distress and changed the subject, as she’d suggested.
“I noticed how many of Jason’s paintings had to do with circus acts. I used to love circuses as a kid, but they aren’t popular anymore. How did Jason become so fascinated by them?”
“Oh, he’s always liked animals, but mostly it has to do with a circus set that he had as a toddler.”
“He mentioned that. Interesting he’d remember that far back.”
“I remember it, too. It was a Fisher-Price play set.” Paige hesitated and wrapped both hands around her mug. “It has particular significance for Jason because it was the last thing his father gave him.”
“Oh, well... Please thank Jason again for the painting.”
Paige looked away briefly. “He...he really wanted you to have it.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows. He had caused her discomfort, unintentional though it was, but he didn’t understand why. “Is there something I should know about the painting?”
Paige fidgeted with the handle of her mug. With her thumbnail, she scraped at a nonexistent flaw on the handle. “I thought he’d painted it for someone else.”
Daniel reached for the envelope on the sofa next to him and held it out to Paige. “If it’s a problem, I won’t take it.”
“No, it’s not a problem,” she was quick to reassure him.
When Daniel still seemed uncertain, she pushed the envelope toward him. “Please, keep it. Just know it means a lot that he wanted you to have it.”
*
IT WAS PAST midnight when Paige tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. Checking her watch, she was surprised at how quickly the night had passed.
“This time I really will go and let you get to bed.”
Paige rose and gathered up the mugs. Daniel rose, too. “Let me help you with that.”
She smiled warmly at him. “Please let’s not go through that again.”
She took the mugs into the kitchen and walked Daniel to her apartm
ent door. She retrieved his jacket from the hall closet and handed it to him.
He shrugged into it. “Thanks again for dinner.”
She shook her head and smiled. “Oh, no. I should be thanking you.” She swept an arm around the cheery room, the Christmas tree lights still glowing and candlelight flickering. “For everything.”
“It was my pleasure. Really. Jason’s a great kid. You’ve done well with him.”
The simple words of praise meant more to her than he could imagine. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Their eyes held, and they stood in silence for a long moment. Eventually, Daniel stepped forward and rested a hand on Paige’s shoulder.
She felt that odd flutter in her stomach again. She wanted to look away, but she was mesmerized by his deep green eyes.
“I enjoyed myself very much. Thanks for sharing Christmas with me.” Daniel took another step closer, hesitated. He squeezed her shoulder lightly, then stepped back and grasped the doorknob. “I wish you and Jason the very best. You both deserve it.”
Before Paige could say anything else, he’d walked out of her apartment and closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DANIEL WHISTLED AS he used his key card to open the door to the law offices of Lindstrom, Kinsley and McGuire.
He paused as he pushed through the large mahogany door. Whistling? Him? Really?
He couldn’t remember having whistled in his life. Well, to call his dog when he was a kid, or to get someone’s attention, yes. But whistling to himself? Never before. “Hmm. Odd,” he murmured.
He made sure the door closed and latched behind him. The day after Christmas wasn’t a statutory holiday in the state of Connecticut, but like many other employers in Hartford, he and his partners offered it as a paid holiday to their staff. For Daniel, it was just another work day. Christmas had never been a happy time for him, and he’d always preferred to have it over and done with and get back to work. He knew he was the exception, and he’d be the only one in the office today.
