Holiday Baby

by Jenna Mindel

  “Have you told Simon about it?”

  Cat looked at her mom. “Why would I do that?”

  Her mom shrugged. “I just thought that you two were, you know, getting close.”

  “Not that close. He wants to provide for Opal, but that’s about it.”

  Was it all for Opal, though? Sure, he wanted to provide for her by giving her a job, but his house was an added bonus. At least until May, when he’d decide if he’d permanently cut ties here or not. If he did decide to leave, she could probably take over his lease, since she’d planned on getting a place of her own eventually. She had some time to figure it out.

  Not so much time with Simon, though. He’d leave after Christmas and that was twenty-four days away. An uneasy feeling in the pit of Cat’s belly grew. If they continued on this path of teasing each other with near-kisses, might things change? Could she change his mind about leaving?

  “Mom, who would I call about establishing Simon as Opal’s father—you know, legally?” Regardless of whether he stayed or not, she owed him an acknowledgment of paternity for Opal.

  “Maybe call the county offices and they’ll direct you.”

  Cat nodded. “I’ll do it Monday.”

  “I’m glad, Cat. Your father will be too. Opal needs that legal tie and you do as well, just in case.”

  Simon might leave, but she didn’t think he’d completely abandon them. His comments about not being cut out for fatherhood echoed through her thoughts. Would he still feel that way when he was back in his usual life, chasing down gems around the world? What if the old saying of “out of sight, out of mind” became a reality?

  Cat’s mom smoothed her hair back like she used to when Cat was little. “What is it?”

  Cat shook off her dark thoughts. “Nothing. I think I’m going to turn in early. Big day tomorrow.”

  “Oh?”

  “Simon and I are going to Traverse City to purchase things to make his second bedroom into a nursery for Opal.”

  “What about church?”

  “We need to leave early enough to make the stores, so we’re not going.”

  Her mom frowned at that and then grinned. “Would you like me to watch the baby?”

  “She’s still not taking the bottle real well.”

  Her mom waved that away. “We’ll be fine. You two go have fun.”

  Cat chuckled. “It’s not a date, Mom.”

  But her mother was already at the door, ready to turn off the light. “It can be, if you make it so.”

  Cat drew back the covers of her bed. Maybe her mom was onto something there. Instead of trying to keep her feelings for Simon in check, maybe she should give in and see what happens.

  Chapter Ten

  Simon pulled into his drive next to Cat’s car. They’d taken his Jeep in case of snow on the way down and back from Traverse City, but the roads had remained clear with sunny blue skies.

  Shutting off the engine, he turned to Cat. “Do you want to come in?”

  Cat had been texting her mom to see how Opal fared while she was gone. She looked at him with disappointment. “I’d better go. Opal’s been a little fussy today.”

  Simon nodded. “No problem.”

  “Can I come tomorrow? You know, and arrange everything?”

  “Till tomorrow, then.”

  Cat settled her hand on his arm. “Thank you for all this.”

  His pulse did an odd dance at the expression of gratitude shining in her eyes. “You’re welcome.”

  She scooted out of his car and into hers, waving before she backed out.

  Simon waved back, and then he started the task of unloading the packages. He’d had a good time today. Shopping for Opal with Cat was something he’d never pictured himself enjoying. Not in a million years, but there was something very sweet about the way Cat picked things out for their daughter. He could easily envision Opal using the newly purchased rattles and toys. He could see her surrounded by all the pretty blankets too. It didn’t take long for him to get caught up in choosing items, as well.

  As he entered his rented house with a handful of bags, the quiet emptiness hit him once again, screaming out that this was no way to live. His return to gem hunting beckoned like never before. It wasn’t so much the thrill of the hunt, but the comfort he took in knowing the trade so well. He fit into that life in a way he couldn’t imagine fitting here.

  Dropping the bags on the floor, he pulled out his phone and called the woodworker who was making Opal’s crib and changing table. “Hello, this is Simon Roberts. Sorry to call on a Sunday, but I wondered if there was a possibility of having that crib and table delivered sometime tomorrow.”

  Simon smiled when the fellow informed him that he was finishing it up today and that delivery on Monday would work. After disconnecting, he swiped his contacts and stopped at his sister’s phone number. The last time he’d spoken to her had been when she called him because of their mother’s sudden death. That had been nearly four years ago.

  What kind of reception would he receive if he called her now, out of the blue? They’d lost touch over the years until Margo had tracked him down to tell him about their mother’s funeral arrangements. She’d been frosty toward him then, even when he’d offered to pay for the funeral in its entirety. Margo hadn’t wanted his money, but he’d paid for it anyway.

  Thinking over Cat’s words about how providing for a child takes more than money, Simon’s gut twisted. Money was the only sure thing he had to offer the people he considered his family. It was all he’d ever had as an adult. For five years, he’d tried to make a home for his siblings, but it hadn’t ended well. Not for any of them. He’d failed then. He couldn’t give his sister and brother what they’d needed all those years ago, so why would he be any different for Opal?

  * * *

  The next day, Cat pulled into Simon’s driveway around noon. She looked forward to making that second bedroom into a nursery for Opal and she wouldn’t mind more time spent with Simon.

  Before she even knocked, he opened the door. “Hello.”

  “Hello. Could you take Opal? I have a few things to bring in.” Cat handed over the baby in her car seat.

  Simon peeked under the fleece blanket. “Hello, Princess.”

  Hearing her daddy’s voice, Opal cooed.

  Cat watched as he went inside, telling Opal all about the special room they were making for her. She briefly closed her eyes before pulling out the Crock-Pot of vegetable beef soup she’d made. She didn’t want Simon to leave, but if he did, she’d give him every reason she could to miss her and Opal.

  When she entered the house, Simon had Opal out of her car seat and settled into the baby swing.

  He looked up. “What do you have there?”

  “Vegetable beef soup for lunch.”

  Simon smiled. “Did you make it?”

  Cat set the Crock-Pot on the counter and plugged it in. “I did.”

  He came near her, very near. He smelled good; the slight spiciness of his cologne was unique to him. “Good news. The crib is coming today.”

  Cat blew at a lock of hair that fell across her cheek. “That was fast.”

  “About a week or so.” He reached for her loose hair and anchored it behind her ear. “Thank you for the soup.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled, hoping to quiet the flutters in her belly that his touch roused. Focus. She owed him more than a pot of soup and some bread, but she’d get into that later.

  This morning she’d called the county where Opal had been born. They’d directed her to the right department, which instructed her to download the affidavit of parentage form. She’d printed off a couple of copies, which were tucked inside the diaper bag.

  “Is it ready?” Simon rested his hand on her shoulder.

  Tempted to lean into him, Cat pulled away when she heard Opa
l utter a cranky-sounding whine. “It is. I’ll slice up some bread too.”

  Cat checked on the baby. The swing had stopped, so she wound it up to a gentle rocking speed. In moments, Opal settled, staring glassy-eyed at the flames dancing in the fireplace. She’d fall asleep soon.

  Simon pulled bowls from the cupboard and then two glasses. “Water or soda?”

  “Water is fine.” Cat pulled a loaf of bread from a brown paper bag.

  “Did you make that too?” Simon’s eyes were wide with wonder.

  “My culinary skills go only so far. I bought this at the bakery in town.” She grabbed the cutting board near the sink, nearly bumping into Simon.

  He cupped her elbow.

  Cat looked into his soft brown eyes. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get it?”

  Simon did so but watched her every move.

  Cat ignored the hike in her pulse and ladled steaming soup into a bowl and placed that in front of him, along with the cutting board with the sliced bread. Butter and salt and pepper were already on the table, so she dished up a bowl for herself before sitting down. “It might need more salt.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile as he tasted it. “It’s good.”

  “I’m glad.” She searched his eyes, ready to spill the big news. The news he’d be pleased to hear. “Simon, I downloaded a form that will legally name you as Opal’s father.”

  He paused midway in raising his spoon and his expression froze.

  Cat gripped the edge of the table. “Have you changed your mind?”

  His eyes cleared. “Not at all.”

  “Then what is it? Why the hesitation?”

  He shrugged, returning to eating.

  Cat stared at her bowl of soup at a loss. She thought he’d be happy, satisfied at the very least, but she’d been wrong. “You don’t reveal much about yourself, do you?”

  He looked surprised by her question. “What do you want to know?”

  “You want to be Opal’s father, yet you don’t. How come?”

  His expression hardened. “It’s not Opal.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He let out a soft sigh. “I didn’t grow up like you. The only time I’ve done anything remotely close to being a father ended badly. I was twenty-one and living in London when I got a call from my mother the night she’d been arrested. She begged me to save my brother and sister from the foster-care system.”

  Cat remained quiet, yet afraid of that troubled look in his eyes.

  He continued, “For five years, I worked as a jeweler at my employer’s store in New York. No traveling—I stayed put so I could look after them. I made sure Margo and Barry had everything they needed, a nicer place to live with better schools, and yet...” Simon looked away, defeated.

  She reached for his hand. “What? What happened?”

  His expression hardened. “They hated me for it. Hated that I was strict, hated that I made them go to school.”

  “How old were they when you came back?”

  “Fourteen and twelve.”

  Cat could only imagine the turmoil he’d been through with two teenagers.

  “I did my best, but Margo dropped out of college to elope. The marriage didn’t last. Barry refused to finish high school after I caught him cutting class. He moved out when he was seventeen, taking several of my valuables with him.” Pain streaked through his dark eyes.

  Seventeen—the same age Simon had been when his mother had kicked him out. “You can’t blame yourself for their decisions.”

  “Who else is there?” he snorted.

  “Well, your mother had a lot to do with it,” Cat pointed out.

  “Of course there’s that, but I can’t shift all the blame on her. I had five years with them. I made sure they had a hot meal every night, clean clothes and an allowance. I thought giving them a glimpse at something better would be enough to motivate them to succeed. It had been for me, but it wasn’t for them. They resented me for it. They stole from me and lied like my mother used to. Even my employer lied to me.”

  “Your boss?” What did that have to do with anything?

  “I can’t prove it, but I believe the thugs who’d chased us all over the highlands were hired by him.”

  “Why?”

  Simon shrugged. “Maybe he was tired of my cut. A few years ago, I started taking payment in first choice of gemstones. That supply helped me start this shop, actually.”

  A knock at the door was an unwelcome interruption. She was finally getting somewhere, learning something about him that explained so much.

  Simon got up. “That’s the furniture. Opal’s awake now.”

  Cat turned. Sure enough, Opal lay wide-eyed in the swing, reaching for the fuzzy animals overhead, only to miss and try again. Cat reached over and checked Opal’s diaper. Still dry. For now.

  Cat rehashed the wounded intensity in Simon’s voice. He’d been deeply hurt by the betrayal of the ones closest to him. Family and his boss. She’d iced the cake of deception by not telling him he had a daughter.

  The sound of the door slamming against the wall startled her. She glanced at the baby.

  Opal scrunched up her face, ready to wail.

  Cat reached for her and cuddled her close. “It’s okay, Opal. Hush now, baby.”

  Simon and another man carried a huge rectangular object covered in a moving blanket through the door, bumping the wall as they went.

  Cat angled the swing out of the draft of the opened door and stepped closer to the crackling fire. She returned Opal to the swing, turning up the gentle motion to rock a little faster, and then followed the men down the hall, looking forward to a peek at this handcrafted crib.

  She entered the bedroom as they were coming out, getting in the way. “Sorry.”

  Simon wrapped his arm around her waist, steering her back where she’d come from. “Stay with Opal while we bring in the table. I want you to wait to see them together, all set up.”

  “Okay.” The warmth of his touch shattered any argument she might have offered. Hearing Opal fuss once again, she rushed to pick her up. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

  She bundled the fleece blanket around Opal and snuggled her close, chasing away a chill that raced in from the opened door. She stepped closer to the fire and watched Simon and the other man bring in the next piece.

  The table was narrower and easier to maneuver than the crib, so it didn’t take long to bring in. In minutes, the work was done and Simon walked the delivery guy out and thanked him with a tip.

  Once the door was again closed, Cat whispered, “Hurry. I want to see the furniture.”

  Simon reached for her hand. “Come on, then.”

  She gladly took it and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Simon had fears too. Different perhaps than hers, but just as real. Did he fear that Opal might walk away and reject him like his family had? Like the company he’d worked for since he’d been seventeen?

  Hanging on tight to Simon’s hand, Cat stopped at the closed door of the second bedroom.

  He looked at her. “Ready?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Cat felt like a kid awaiting a Christmas gift.

  Simon opened it and stepped back, letting her enter first.

  Cat couldn’t speak because of the sudden swell of emotion that closed up her throat and blurred her vision with tears.

  “The sides come off so it can be converted into a twin bed. You know, when Opal is older. Do you like it?” Simon sounded worried.

  She loved it. The crib was made of a mellow oak in a sleigh shape. The changing table was the same wood and echoed that same style. She’d never seen anything so exquisite. The pair must have cost a fortune. “Simon—”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

  “Oh, no. I love it. It’s beautiful. It’s just.
..” Cat sniffed and gripped Opal tighter, thinking about when their daughter was older and using a twin bed. Would she have two parents supporting her or just one?

  Like so many things since having Opal, Cat had no control over what happened next. Would Simon ever want to be a real family? Too soon to tell. She owed him the truth about her past too, so that he’d understand her own fears. But would telling him what happened the summer she’d turned sixteen draw him closer or push him further away?

  * * *

  “Looks like we’re done.” Simon stepped back and surveyed the bright orange curtains with a tribal white dot-and-slash pattern. He turned to Opal, who was rocking in her baby swing. “Nice, huh? How do you like your room?”

  Opal looked around as if she’d understood his words.

  Simon laughed. “This looks really great.”

  “It does.” Cat had picked out matching crib sheets in a bright, cheerful watercolor-styled print of orange lions with bright yellow manes painted like flower petals on a white background.

  A quilt with blocks of both prints lay folded over the oak rocking chair they’d picked up at a specialty baby store.

  They took in the nursery. His rental agreement didn’t allow for painting, so they’d purchased wall decals that stuck rather well. A lion, a giraffe and some tall grasses. Lovely.

  He turned toward Cat. She was lovely too. More so each day. Or perhaps more so today because she seemed to understand his failure with his family.

  Opal uttered a weak cry. Not her usual ear-splitting holler, but Cat picked her up and Opal nuzzled against her.

  “I’d better feed her.” Cat’s face flushed when she caught him watching them.

  Simon nodded and made his way to the door. “Give the new room a go. Try out the crib too.”

  He walked through his rental house, filled with the aroma of homemade soup that mixed well with the warmth of the fireplace. Snow fell outside and it dawned on him that this place didn’t feel empty now. This was the closest he’d ever been to feeling like he had a real home and a normal family. Only it wasn’t normal. They weren’t married and they’d made no commitment other than Cat agreeing to legally name him as Opal’s father.