In a Heartbeat

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “Knock it off, Sonja.” Nate walked into the kitchen and set the wine bottle on the counter. “Anna and her kids are family these days.”

  Anger flashed on his ex-wife’s face. If he’d intended to pacify her, that wasn’t the right tack to take.

  Either oblivious or not caring, he continued, “Having Josh and Jenna here at home to play with has been really good for Molly.”

  “Better than having her mother?” Sonja asked sharply.

  The three kids stood not far away, certainly within earshot. Molly had red splashes of humiliation on her cheeks, and she looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but there.

  Anna opened her mouth, but Nate spoke first.

  “We’re glad to share our holiday with you, Sonja, but you need to adjust your attitude, if only for the kids’ sake.” His voice was hard, one Anna wasn’t sure she’d ever heard. “Is that clear?”

  His ex didn’t like being chastised. Her lips thinned and her nostrils flared, but then she dipped her head. “Have you no sense of humor?”

  “Apparently not,” he said coolly. He raised his voice. “Molly, what happened to the olives and veggies and dip? Your mom might like some.”

  Anna dumped milk in with the potatoes and picked up the masher. “Dinner is just about ready to go on the table. Give me five minutes.”

  Sonja did have the grace to say, “Is there anything I can do?”

  Anna couldn’t quite make herself smile, but she did say, “Thank you, but I have everything in hand. Besides, your dress is so beautiful I’d feel awful if anything splashed on it.”

  Body-forming, a rich russet color that suited her coloring, it was spectacular, as were the enormous diamonds in her earrings and a pendant that settled just above her generous cleavage. Four-inch heels gave her walk a sultry sway as she sauntered toward the living room.

  “Do open the wine, Nate,” she called over her shoulder.

  Anna glanced at the kids, who still hadn’t moved. “Time to wash hands,” she told them briskly. “Then you can help carry some of this to the table.”

  They dashed away like antelope running from a water hole visited by a lioness. Who could blame them?

  Nate was closer than Anna had realized, because she could feel the warmth of his breath when he murmured, “Can I run away, too?”

  Anna choked on a laugh. “Not a chance. But you can go supervise the hand-washing, if you want.”

  He made a sound in his throat. “How about if I accidentally-on-purpose drop the damn bottle and it shatters?”

  Just as softly, Anna said, “Something tells me this lovely holiday gathering is in danger of descending into disaster.”

  He opened a drawer and located the corkscrew. Out of the side of his mouth, he murmured, “As if it isn’t already on its way.”

  * * *

  ANNA WAS THE one to insist that they give Sonja another chance at Christmas. The few times they’d seen her since Thanksgiving, she’d been subdued and making an obvious effort to be pleasant. Anna was convinced she was ashamed of herself. Nate was still angry at Sonja’s nasty jabs, at Anna in particular, and took a more cynical attitude. He agreed they didn’t have much choice, however, what with the holiday spirit and all.

  Besides, Sonja had no other family in the area...and she would always be Molly’s mother. What’s more, she’d mended fences with Molly during recent visits, making an effort to appear semi-sober, and even remembered Josh’s and Jenna’s names.

  Christmas Eve, the kids were as ramped up as if they’d eaten nothing but sugar all day long. Nate glanced up from his newspaper when he heard Jenna ask her mom in a distinctly whiny tone, “When can we...?”

  “After dinner. And remember, two presents tonight, the rest in the morning.”

  He admired Anna’s patience. Personally, he was finding the kids’ excitement to be contagious.

  Last year, since his parents spent the holiday with Adam and his family, Nate had joined Sonja and Molly for Christmas Eve, then had Christmas dinner with John and his family. He’d been grateful for both occasions, but it was hard not to be aware he was on the outside looking in. Negotiating the celebration of Christmas in this new world had been interesting. To his secret satisfaction, the plotting had brought him and Anna together like nothing else could. And, damn, he’d been scrupulous in not taking advantage of all those private conversations.

  Regular dinner on Christmas Eve, they’d agreed—cheeseburgers, baked beans, peas and the cookies the kids had helped her cut out and decorate. The kids would be able to open two gifts—parents’ choice.

  Christmas morning, the deluge. Plus, Anna was cooking a turkey with all the trimmings, since it had been such a hit at Thanksgiving. Sonja was to join them as early in the day as she felt inclined.

  He’d made the decision not to invite her for Christmas Eve or to spend the night. He wanted some stress-free fun time for Molly—and himself. Anna, Josh and Jenna did feel like family to him, and he thought they deserved the chance to celebrate as one. Needless to say, all he’d told Anna was that he wanted Molly to enjoy Christmas Eve without the tension her mother was bound to introduce.

  Now Jenna circled out of the kitchen to clamber onto a stool next to Nate, whose offer to help with dinner had been politely rebuffed.

  After kicking her heels against the legs of the stool for about two minutes, she took another stab at hurrying things along. “Mommy, can’t we eat now?”

  Nate laughed and gave her a squeeze. “Give it up, honey. We’ll eat when your mom is done cooking, and not a minute before.” He nodded toward the truly enormous tree filling about a quarter of the living room. “While you’re waiting, why don’t you go admire your presents?”

  “I can pick out what I want to open!” she said excitedly, stumbling as she jumped down.

  He swung around to steady her. “Nope.”

  “Oh, pooh!”

  Anna laughed. “Fortunately, dinner will be ready in about five minutes.”

  Nate was careful that she not see him watching her over the top of the newspaper while she did five things at once in the kitchen. With that long, sleek body, she kept making him think of a dancer more than a runner. He indulged himself momentarily, picturing those incredible legs wrapped around his hips. Given how long he’d been fantasizing about her, it was hard to believe he’d never kissed that pretty mouth, cupped her breasts in his hands, tangled his fingers in her honey-blond hair.

  Oh, hell. He gave the newspaper a little shake and did his damnedest to focus on the article about the mayoral race in Seattle. He knew two of the candidates and should be interested.

  Fortunately, his erection had subsided by the time Anna asked him to ferry serving dishes to the table and call the kids. Politics had a way of doing that.

  Molly and Josh bounded down the stairs in a headlong rush, bodychecking each other in their attempt to reach the table first.

  Even as Nate suggested they slow down, he quietly rejoiced in behavior his subdued little girl wouldn’t have considered much over a month ago. Having a “brother” and competitor was proving to be good for her. He only hoped her mother didn’t try to squelch the budding changes in Molly’s personality out of resentment that Anna and her children had something to do with them.

  Yeah, always a new worry to add to the old one: that Sonja would show up hammered. Nate had already resolved that, if she was too far gone, he’d call a cab and send her home. With unopened gifts. He still regretted not doing exactly that five minutes after she’d shown up here on Thanksgiving.

  The kids gobbled, then congregated in front of the heap of presents beneath the tree while Anna and Nate finished their meals in a more leisurely fashion.

  “How about a cup of coffee?” he suggested, dropping his napkin on his plate.

  He loved her laugh, bubbly and a little husky. “That’s just cruel. You’re lucky
they didn’t hear you.”

  Nate chuckled, too. “I think we should forget the Santa thing. There’s already enough under the tree.”

  She glanced fondly toward the three, huddled with noses together as Josh rattled one of his presents. “I got carried away.”

  “Me, too. Having Molly home...” He had to stop for a moment. “And, you know, Sonja always did the buying and wrapping. She let me hang the ornaments out of her reach and put the star on top. Otherwise, I just showed up and smiled when it came time to open presents.”

  Anna studied him, a couple tiny lines on her forehead. “Surely you had some to open, too.”

  He shook himself, shedding the chill of memories. “Of course I did. My fault if I didn’t get more involved.”

  “Kyle—” Her gaze shied away as she hesitated.

  He guessed she thought she might offend him by introducing the subject of her husband. And, yeah, he had mixed feelings about the guy, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Kyle?” Nate prompted.

  “Oh, I was just going to say that he loved to shop for presents. The ones he bought weren’t always the most practical, and he spent too much—” She frowned. “He was like another kid where holidays were concerned.”

  “Um...are you mad at me for buying the remote-controlled speedboat for Josh?” Good thing she’d never know how close he’d come to buying her a new car instead of the modest-sized diamond earrings that were wrapped under the tree.

  She laughed. “No, because I know somebody will be playing with it, even if it isn’t Josh.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Josh will love it.”

  “You know,” Nate said slowly, “I feel more like a kid this year than I have since I was a kid.”

  Her smile dawned and her eyes sparkled. “I’m glad. What say we start?”

  He grinned back. “I’m ready.”

  When they pushed back their chairs and stood, the kids cheered.

  “I know which one I want to open first,” Jenna insisted.

  “Can I open the big one?” Josh begged. “Can I?”

  Her face glowing beneath the multicolored lights that wound around the ten-foot-tall noble fir, Molly said, “I don’t know which one to open.”

  Nate took a seat at one end of the sofa while Anna went to her knees beside the tree. She reached for a sizable gift and handed it to Jenna.

  “Youngest first.”

  Nate leaned forward, but it wasn’t the big-eyed girl tearing at the paper he watched. No, it was the tenderness on Anna’s face that captivated him.

  * * *

  THE DOORBELL DIDN’T ring until eleven in the morning. Anna had seen how edgy Nate was and how Molly’s head turned at every sound from outside.

  She leaped up from where she and Josh had been building a spaceship with Lego.

  “Mommy’s here!”

  Anna’s eyes met Nate’s as he rose to go to the door. Molly beat him there, but Nate had a hand on her shoulder when she let her mother in.

  Moment of truth.

  Anna’s children quit what they were doing, too, and watched in silence as Sonja walked in, smiling and carrying a big bag. Even from a distance, Anna could see that it bulged with wrapped gifts. Was there a bottle of wine in there?

  Sonja set the bag down and crouched to sweep Molly into a hug. Molly held on tight to her mom. The sight of the two heads so close together, their hair the exact same vivid red, gave Anna a pang. When Sonja finally rose, Anna thought she was blinking back tears.

  “Nate.” She gave him a hug, too, and he kissed her cheek. Then she said, “It smells wonderful in here. Anna must be responsible for that.”

  Anna came out to accept the obligatory hug. The smell of mint was strong, but Sonja’s eyes looked clear. “Molly’s been watching the door all morning.”

  Sonja surveyed the wreck in the living room. “Well, it certainly isn’t because there was a shortage of presents.”

  Anna laughed. “No, it isn’t.”

  Sonja lifted her bag. “Just in case...”

  Expression avid, Jenna left her own construction project and came to investigate. Uh-oh. Anna hoped the other woman had thought to buy modest gifts for Josh and Jenna. But, bless Sonja’s heart, when she laid out the presents on the coffee table, they seemed to be almost evenly distributed between the three children.

  Nate stood beside Anna, close enough their shoulders brushed and she smelled a hint of his aftershave and the something more that was him.

  The kids chattered about what they’d already gotten as they tore paper. The gifts were all well-chosen: a Stomp Rocket for Josh; a dry-erase, light-up board for Molly; and a kit to build play forts like simple tents to hide in throughout the house for Jenna.

  And no booze.

  Actually liking Sonja for the first time, Anna relaxed and returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. Nate glanced after her, but finally sat on the arm of the sofa and joined the conversation in a relaxed way. He’d dressed down today, in jeans worn enough to hug every muscle in his long legs, athletic shoes and an aged sweatshirt that said Stanford on the front. Of course, he’d pushed up the sleeves. His forearms had become more of a weakness than she wanted to admit.

  For some reason—possibly because of Sonja’s proximity to Nate—Anna was sharply aware of what a beautiful woman his ex-wife was. Slim, almost delicate, except for breasts that had to be a C cup, at least. Anna suddenly felt like a flagpole in comparison. The deep V-neck of Sonja’s emerald-green sweater showed plenty of creamy flesh and cleavage. Given that he was sitting higher than Sonja, Nate must have quite a view. Had he paid for those breasts?

  Anna wanted to slap herself. Way to demonstrate Christmas spirit. The woman was being nice. She was trying hard, making Molly happy today. Jealousy had no place here.

  Too bad peeling potatoes wasn’t the kind of task that fully engaged Anna’s attention. It left her free to notice when Sonja scooted over on the couch to be closer to Nate so she could tell him something, and he bent with a hand braced just above her bright head. At that moment, Anna sliced her finger with the peeler. Since she fully deserved to shed blood, she stifled her gasp, ran cold water over her hand and bandaged herself without anyone noticing.

  * * *

  NATE COULDN’T HELP getting an eyeful of Sonja’s cleavage. Given his state of sexual deprivation, he was surprised not to feel even reminiscent pleasure at the sight. He glanced, dismissed.

  Maybe because of he’d had the example of his parents’ marriage, seeing both love and the spark he hadn’t acknowledged as sexual attraction until he was an adult, he’d never been a man who was happy to take a woman he didn’t at least like to bed. Sonja had certainly killed everything he’d felt for her long ago. Now, it seemed, he didn’t even appreciate her body. Possibly because he’d become addicted to slim and graceful, breasts the right size to fit his palms with no waste.

  For a minute, the kids’ excited chatter flew right by him, as did whatever Sonja was trying to tell him. He wanted Anna with every fiber of his being, in every way he could have her. If he’d been a more religious man, he’d think God was punishing him. Out of all the women in the world, why had he become obsessed with this one? Sometimes he was afraid there was something really twisted about it, but then she’d smile at him and—

  “Daddy!” Her tone reproving, Molly stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Didn’t you even hear me?”

  He smiled at her. “Sorry, kiddo. My mind was wandering.” To Anna Grainger, currently slaving in the kitchen while the rest of them sat around the Christmas tree.

  “I want you to put these butterflies in my hair.” She picked up a package of sparkly butterflies attached to bobby pins that her mother had given her.

  Sonja reached for them. “Sweetie, I doubt your father is any better at doing your hair than he ever was.”


  Molly shifted away, still clutching the package. “He is! You’ll see.”

  Hurt crossed his ex-wife’s face. Nate would’ve felt the same. But about all he could do was take the package, tear it open and try to figure out what to do with pins that didn’t seem to have any functional purpose. The moment was awkward, and right after they’d been doing so well with the spirit of joy and goodwill.

  Maybe Molly was trying to make him feel better because she’d asked this morning for French braids, and he’d had to admit they weren’t in his repertoire. She’d settled on a single, ordinary braid.

  “Okay.” He slid a bobby pin in so a purple butterfly sparkled above her left ear. Another went above her right ear. But butterflies flitted; they didn’t line up precisely like Canada geese with their V in the sky. And, hey, there were eight of these. He started poking them in all over, and she giggled.

  When he was done, she raced for the bathroom to see herself and came back delighted. “I can hardly wait to wear them to school.” After the tiniest pause, she said, “Thank you, Mommy.”

  Sonja did smile. “You’re very welcome. They look beautiful, don’t they, Jenna?”

  Anna’s daughter had been watching. “I wish I had some.”

  Molly giggled and went back to Jenna’s new game, which she was obviously playing out of the kindness of what Nate had come to realize was a very generous heart.

  “I actually am getting better with the hair thing,” he said in a low voice to Sonja. “But this morning I had to admit I don’t have the slightest idea how to do French braids.”

  “And that’s one of her favorite ways to wear her hair,” she said smugly.

  He’d give her the jab, but he excused himself to go help Anna. Fortunately, she was to the point where she needed someone to dig the stuffing out of the turkey and carve it while she mashed potatoes and simultaneously stirred the gravy she’d just started.

  Wielding the butcher knife, he caught sight of a large bandage on her finger. “What happened?”

  “Oh, a careless moment.” She lifted it ruefully. “The darn thing keeps bleeding. Can you stir while I change the bandage?”