by Jill Kemerer
He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. The touch surprised her, made her want to bend her head and rest her cheek on his hand. “I’m here if you need me for anything. We’ll get through it.”
We? What a relief to have him to rely on. She sniffed, nodding. He turned the radio to a station playing Christmas music.
“So are you and Parker up for helping me decorate my Christmas tree Saturday afternoon? And by help, I mean you’ll basically have to put all the decorations up. Unless I can juggle the crutches somehow.”
Celeste laughed. She pictured him smiling, placing candy canes on the tree. “Of course. We’d love to help. I need to decorate my cabin, too, but with Parker walking, I have to be careful.”
They discussed her setting up a small tree on a table out of his reach, and before she knew it, she was turning down the road where she and Brandy had spun out. Her breathing quickened, and her palms grew sweaty. She swallowed. Twice.
“This is it, isn’t it?” Sam asked. “Do you need to pull over or anything?”
Everything flooded back. Them laughing and singing “A Holly Jolly Christmas.” That was the song she’d forgotten. A split second later the wheels had taken a life of their own and the car had spun sideways, sliding, turning. It had hit the ditch with a thud, jerking them around in their seat belts, and the car launched up—they’d both screamed...
And that was when she remembered. She’d reached for Brandy and held on to her arm the instant before she blacked out.
“Celeste?”
She inhaled and saw the pole. The one her car wrapped around. The one that left her scarred and alone.
It loomed gray and tall and lonely from the field.
You took her from me. You stupid piece of wood.
Her hands clenched the steering wheel as tears began to pour down her cheeks, and a minute later, she drove into the brightly lit church parking lot and cut the engine. Her forehead dropped to her palms, and she shook as she cried.
Sam must have unbuckled because he moved close, putting his arm around her and drawing her to him. She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I don’t understand why, Sam. Why Brandy? Why that night?” Why not me?
“Shh...” He brushed her hair from her face. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“We were coming home from shopping. The trunk was full of gifts and wrapping paper. We ate at a Mexican restaurant, and we were having so much fun. Laughing, singing. Brandy had been so tired from the late nights with Parker, and she’d been quiet, depressed since Josh died. She needed a night out. I kept insisting she come with me. And there we were, on our way back to her apartment when the car hit the ice and spun out. The air bags didn’t deploy. The officer told my parents it was because of the angle we hit—no sensors were tripped. And I lost her. I lost her.”
She let out another cry and held Sam tightly. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, murmuring in the hair against her cheek, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
When she got her breathing under control, she gazed into his eyes. She could see it—he wanted to take her pain from her.
The truth had to be told.
“It should have been me.” There. She’d said it out loud.
“What?” His eyebrows drew together.
“Why did I get to live and she was taken away? She had a baby, a job as a nurse’s aide. The world could have gone on fine without me, but here I am.” She wiped the tears from her face with the backs of her hands.
“You’re wrong.” He stroked her hair. “The world couldn’t have gone on fine without you. I don’t know why she died, but I know why you lived. The world needs you, Celeste.”
She shook her head violently. “Don’t say that.”
“I will say it.” He nudged her chin to look at him. “I’ll say it over and over until it gets through that pretty head of yours.”
Pretty?
“We should go,” she said. “It’s almost time for practice.”
“Not yet.” He shifted closer so their noses were almost touching. “The accident wasn’t your fault. Okay?”
Hearing him say those words was like a dose of calming oil on her nerves. The steel keeping her spine rigid dissolved. She knew in her heart it wasn’t her fault—it could have happened to anyone—but the aftermath was hard to digest.
“It might not have been my fault, but the results are the same. My best friend is gone, and my nephew—her son—will never know her.”
“You told me yourself you’re going to make sure Parker knows everything about her.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not.” He took her hand in his. “Being together after this life will have to be enough.”
She didn’t trust herself to speak. He was right—they’d be together someday. Why wasn’t it enough? “I guess I’m selfish. I want her here now.” She gave him a halfhearted smile.
“I don’t blame you.” He ran his hand over his cheek. “I guess I’m selfish, too. I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t know Brandy, but I’m glad you survived the crash. You’ve made my life bearable.”
She blinked, stunned.
“We’d better go inside.” He opened his door, prompting her in motion.
She hurried around the van and got his crutches out of the trunk. When she handed them to him, she covered his hand with hers. “Thanks.”
“I meant it. And I mean this—let it go. You can’t bring her back.”
Maybe she’d been living with too many regrets. She couldn’t bring Brandy back. But was it dishonoring her memory to embrace the future?
* * *
Sam swung through the church entrance as Celeste held the door open for him. Holding her in his arms moments ago had felt right. More right than he’d felt in a long time. And the fact she’d opened up to him, confided in him, made him feel invincible. Even the fact he was on crutches couldn’t dampen his mood.
Did a guy have to be physically whole to consider having a future with a woman? He used to think so, but now he wondered.
“Hello.” A frazzled-looking woman appeared in the coat area. She held a clipboard and wore a red-and-white Christmas sweater with kittens on it. She blew a piece of curly brown hair from her eyes. “Are you Celeste?”
“Yes. This is Parker.” Celeste took off his stocking cap. He rubbed his eyes and dropped his head to her shoulder. “Are you Mrs. Roper?”
“No. Sue got the flu. I’m Donna Flack. I understand you’re raising Brandy’s little boy.” She didn’t make eye contact with Celeste. Her gaze ran up and down the paper attached to the clipboard. Something about her raised Sam’s hackles. “If you’ll wait in the fellowship hall with the other parents, we’ll get started in a few.”
Celeste unzipped Parker’s coat. “I’m not sure if he’ll do what you need.”
“Well, let’s hope he can sit on our Mary’s lap and act like a baby.” She clicked her pen and made a tsk-tsk noise.
“He is a baby.” Sam moved next to Celeste. The lady’s annoyed tone was rubbing him the wrong way.
“This is Sam Sheffield, Mrs. Flack.”
“It’s Miss Flack.” Her tight smile held no joy. “Well, you know what I mean. If he can sit still, we’ll be fine.”
Celeste’s face fell. “He just started walking, so I’m not sure.”
“Shelby Dean is wonderful with babies. She’s our Mary, and I have full confidence she’ll get him to mind.” She pivoted and strode down the hallway to the fellowship hall.
“Get him to mind?” he said. “What did she mean by that?”
“I don’t know.” She hung up their coats, and they headed in Miss Flack’s direction. “I’m not sure I want to find out.”
“Hey,” he said. She stopped and turned to
him. “You don’t have to do this. It’s been a hard night already. We can take off if—”
She shook her head. “No. It’s for Grandma Pearl. I’ll be okay.”
He wasn’t so sure, but he had to trust her. They emerged into a large room with groups of parents talking in clusters and kids running around. Laughter and random piano notes filled the air.
“What now?” he whispered. This was out of his element. He’d let Celeste take the lead.
“I have no idea,” she whispered back. She set Parker on his feet, but he whirled and held his arms up for her to hold him, which she did.
“May I have your attention?” Miss Flack clapped her hands. “Thank you all for coming. Your children were given their parts in Sunday school last week. I hope they’ve had a chance to review them. We’re going through the recitations tonight and measuring the children for their costumes.”
A little girl with braids ran past Miss Flack and chased a towheaded boy.
“Molly, that’s enough of that. Both of you stand with your teachers.” With a loud sigh, she pointed to a group of kids. “Now, where’s Shelby? Matt?”
A pretty dark-haired woman with a wide smile raised her hand. She looked to be in her early twenties. A tall, husky guy joined her. They made a striking couple.
“Everyone meet in the front of the church, and we’ll get started.” Miss Flack pointed to the doors. “Shelby, Matt, come and meet our baby Jesus.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Matt said. “I’m helping Frank get the sets out of the shed.”
Sam stood straighter as Shelby and Miss Flack approached, and he sensed Celeste stiffen. He wanted to reassure her, but how? He glanced at her. Sure enough, she’d lowered her face.
She didn’t need to do that. She had nothing to be ashamed of. He hitched his chin, ready to defend or help her. Whatever she needed.
“Shelby, this is Celeste and Parker. She’s raising Brandy’s little boy.”
“We were all sad about what happened.” Shelby’s brown eyes oozed sincerity. She ran her hand down Parker’s back. “It’s terrible, this sweet baby losing his mama.”
Celeste lifted her face and nodded. Sam ground his teeth together. This Shelby lady seemed nice and all, but did she have any idea how her words were affecting Celeste?
Shelby’s eyes widened. “I forgot you were driving.”
Sam forced himself to keep his eyes trained on Celeste. He recognized the panic rising, the way her eyes darted. Steadying himself, he placed his hand on her lower back.
“How are you doing?” Shelby continued, her voice comforting. “I’m sure this must have been awful for you.”
“Having Parker makes it easier.”
“May I?” Shelby smiled and held her hands out.
Celeste nodded, and Shelby took Parker in her arms. “How are you, sweet one?”
Not making a sound, Parker stared into her eyes. He seemed to be studying her. She gave him a little hug and laughed. Sam had to give it to Shelby—she was good with him.
Four young kids ran up to Shelby. “Hi, Miss Shelby. Is that your baby?”
“No, Luke.” She grinned at the preschoolers. “This is Parker. He’s our baby Jesus this year.”
Two girls stared up at Celeste. The one with freckles asked, “What happened to your face?”
Shelby started to reprimand her, but Celeste smiled, shaking her head. “It’s fine.” She addressed the girl. “I was in a car accident.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. It must’ve hurt pretty bad.”
“It did.”
Shelby shifted Parker to her hip. “Melissa, do you remember Mrs. Monroe? Brandy? Your aunt Jackie was friends with her.”
“The one who died?” The girl’s face fell, freckles and all.
Sam wanted to put an end to the conversation. Celeste appeared to be handling it okay, though, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Yes. This is Parker, her baby,” Shelby said. “And this is his new mommy.”
Celeste cleared her throat and crouched to talk to the kids. “My last name is Monroe, too. Brandy was married to my brother, Josh. She was my best friend in the whole world.”
“Is that his daddy?” The blonde girl pointed to Sam.
The question landed in his gut like a brick. If the boat hadn’t almost killed him, would he be married by now? With a child of his own?
“He’s my neighbor and my friend. Mr. Sheffield.”
“Were you in the accident, too?”
Sam belatedly realized the kids expected him to say something.
“No,” he said. “I was in a different accident.”
“Is your leg broke?” One of the boys eyeballed the crutches.
“Kind of.”
“Did it hurt?” Freckles asked.
“Yes. It still does.”
“You should get an ice pack.” The blonde girl pointed to him, and he tried not to smile at her serious tone. “My daddy always puts an ice pack on his neck when he gets home from work.”
“I’ll do that.”
The sound of hands clapping interrupted them. “We’re waiting for you. Come on, children.”
Shelby, still holding Parker, led the way, and the preschoolers lined up behind her like they were following the Pied Piper.
“I think Parker is in good hands.” Sam waited for Celeste to slip into the back pew and sat beside her, laying his crutches on the floor.
“I do, too.”
“You handled that well.” He stretched his arm out behind her along the back of the pew.
“You think so?” The tightness in her face disappeared, making her appear younger.
“I know so. You did the right thing letting Parker be in the program.” The opening strains of “Joy to the World” blared through the organ. “I want to come with you on Christmas Eve.”
She did a double take. “Really? Don’t you want to be with your family?”
He loved his family. Always went to church on Christmas Eve with them. But Celeste needed support, and he wanted to give it to her.
“I want to see Parker as baby Jesus. If you don’t mind?” He watched her reaction.
She smiled. “I don’t mind.”
He caught sight of Shelby up there bouncing Parker in her arms and singing.
Before the accident, he hadn’t put much thought into having a wife or family. Earlier he’d questioned if he’d be married now, but he knew better. He’d be opening his second dealership, married to his job.
Sam clenched his jaw. His job had been fulfilling, but something had been missing even then. There was more to life than success. And he wanted more. Could he have it?
* * *
Celeste dropped Sam off at his brother’s dealership the next morning and drove through Lake Endwell. The town was adorable. Walking around with Sam earlier in the week had opened her eyes to its charm. Brick storefronts, pretty awnings, benches on the sidewalks. Everything was decorated for Christmas. Wreaths hung on doors, snowflakes were painted on store windows, Christmas lights were wrapped around trees. Sam had assured her Bryan would take him home, so she and Parker were going to explore on their own.
She stopped at City Park. Taking a drink of coffee from her travel mug, she took in the view of the lake. Last night had changed her. Sam had changed her. She’d never come here before because she’d been too self-conscious. She had even worried about someone staring at her through her van window.
She shook her head. How foolish. She could see that now. Their outings had loosened her up, and the success of being around the kids last night gave her the courage to break out of the cabin on her own.
Anticipation filled her with energy. The snow from earlier in the week had melted. It was a great day to get out.
“What are we wait
ing for? Let’s walk around the park.” She turned to grin at Parker, but her grin slid away at the sight of his closed eyes. Sleeping. So much for that.
She started the minivan back up. Should she go home? The blue sky and bluer water in the distance beckoned. No, she wasn’t going home. She could sit here and relax awhile. She settled back in the seat and sipped her coffee.
Last night when the little girl had asked her if Sam was Parker’s daddy, Celeste hadn’t been prepared for her internal reaction. She’d wanted to tell the girl yes, he was his daddy. Spending all this time together, doing the mundane daily stuff, had spoiled her. She relied on Sam. Hadn’t understood how lonely she’d been until she moved in next door to him.
What would it be like to come home to a husband? To raise Parker with someone who treated her the way Sam did? To be a family?
She let the glow of possibility wash over her, remembered how strong his arms had felt last night as he’d comforted her. The pressure of his hand against her back when she met Shelby had reassured her. He had the touch. To have those arms around her every day?
She sighed.
She wasn’t being realistic. They lived in a bubble. When the real world interrupted—and it would soon—things would change. He’d go back to work. He wouldn’t be just hers anymore. It would be good for him to see how important he was again. He’d realize he could have any woman. He’d want a family of his own—not her and her nephew.
She just wished she could stay in the bubble longer.
* * *
Sam adjusted his leg in the conference room of Tommy’s dealership. A circus had performed in his stomach all morning, and it was all he could do not to stand and pace the room on his crutches. Dad and Bryan hadn’t arrived, and Tommy was talking with a customer. What if Sam flipped out the way he had the last time he’d printed out the sales report? If he started crying or had to throw up...
He might as well kiss his career goodbye, because he wouldn’t do either in front of the men he respected most. Get it together, already. If you can’t look at a piece of paper without blubbering like a baby, you don’t deserve this job.
