Unforgettable Christmas - Gifts of Love (The Unforgettables Book 3)
Page 20
“I won’t tell if you don’t want me to.” She probably shouldn’t have made such a promise, but it seemed important.
“I’m worried about my daddy.” The lightness that had permeated the kitchen just a moment before evaporated. Izzie picked up the kitchen towel that hung on the cabinet knob. “When I…go away, he’ll be all alone.”
“Honey, your daddy is a very strong man.” Christy turned the stove burner off and moved closer to Izzie.
This wasn’t the first time she’d had this kind of talk with a child she took care of. More times than not, terminally ill children were more worried about their parents than they were for themselves.
“He’ll be sad,” Christy said. “Very much so. That’s only natural. He loves you very much. But he’ll be okay. Honestly, he will.”
Although Izzie remained dry-eyed, the magnitude of her agitation showed in the now-tightly-coiled towel she held in her hands.
“What did you do?” Izzie asked. “When Danielle went away. How were you? Did you cry? Were you lonely?”
Christy nodded. “I cried. I cried a lot.” She thought about the questions, wanting to give Izzie careful answers that would alleviate her fears. “I kept myself busy. I went back to school. I already had my degree, but I decided to become a registered nurse. And after I accomplished that, I started working. After that, I focused on all the kids at the hospital. And I have friends, and the nurses and doctors at the hospital.” She tilted her head to one side. “I have a good life, Izzie. And your father will too.”
Izzie’s voice lowered to a mere whisper. “I’ve only seen Daddy cry once. And that was at Mommy’s funeral. I don’t want him to cry anymore.”
Emotion welled in her eyes and fat tears rolled down her creamy cheeks.
Christy got down on her knees and hugged Izzie tightly. “Honey, please don’t worry. It’s going to be all right.”
“Will you watch over my daddy? Will you be his friend?”
Without hesitation, Christy promised, “Of course, I will.”
~ ~ ~
Hours later, Christy came into the living room, carrying a tray filled with Izzie’s teapot, cups, saucers, and a plate of Christmas cookies. The three of them had just finished watching Miracle on 34th Street and Christy thought a snack was in order.
“How about that tea party we talked about, Izzie?” she said.
Izzie set her dad’s iPad on the sofa cushion beside her. “That would be fun.”
Aaron, who’d been reading a book, got up to clear off the coffee table. He glanced at the iPad and asked, “What are you looking at there, Izzie?”
“Wedding dresses.”
Aaron caught Christy’s eye and she offered a little shrug to let him know she was as clueless as he over Izzie’s choice of iPad entertainment.
Izzie snatched up a cookie that had red sprinkles on top. “These are pretty, Christy. Are these the sour cookies?”
“Southern Sour Cream Cookies, yes.” Christy picked up the pot and poured tea into three cups.
“Mmmm.” Izzie smacked her lips. “They’re soft and sweet. Not sour at all.”
Christy chuckled. “I’m glad you like them.”
Aaron picked up the small teacup between his index finger and thumb. “So… why are you looking at wedding gowns.”
Izzie looked at the iPad and then up at her dad. “I’ve been thinking.”
This child has been doing a lot of that today. “About weddings?” Christy asked.
“Yeah, and other stuff,” she admitted.
Aaron took two cookies from the plate and sat down in the easy chair. Until this moment, Christy would never have thought that a man could sip tea from a child-sized teacup and retain his masculinity. He was doing a fine job of it.
He caught her pressing her lips together at the sight of him and he gave her a quick wink. Warm tendrils curled in the pit of her belly.
“I wish I had a pony,” Izzie said. “I was looking at pictures of horses. They’re so pretty. And… and I wish I had a puppy. Did you know there are about a zillion kinds of dogs? And I wish I had a boat. Wouldn’t it be fun to ride a boat whenever you want to?” Then her words came a little faster. “I was thinking about weddings ‘cause brides are so beautiful. I’ve never been to a wedding. I’ve never seen a real bride up close.” Then she lifted both shoulders. “Or a groom, either.”
Aaron chewed a bite of cookie then swallowed. “So all of this thinking that you’re doing… does this mean you’re adding to your wish list?”
Christy could almost hear Aaron’s thoughts. How do I buy this child of mine a pony? A dog? A boat? A wedding?
“No, not really.” Izzie shook her head. “We’d need a farm for a pony. And a puppy would be lonely at home if I have to go to the hospital. And I’m too little to drive a boat.”
Relief lightened Aaron’s chuckle. “Yes, all those things are true.”
Izzie turned her head and stared at the white, lacy gown on the iPad. “But we could have a wedding. It would be pretend, of course. We just need a bride and a groom. A pretty dress. Big and poofy, like Princess Belle would wear. Some flowers. A ring.” She gazed across the room at her father, blinking. “We could do it.”
Aaron’s moment of relief vanished and he looked like a deer caught in headlights. Funny how talk of frilly dresses and flowers and rings did that to a man. Christy decided to save him.
“I’m sure I could find something around here that could serve as your wedding gown. A white sheet, maybe? And I could dress it up with something fancy…” The rest of her sentence trailed as she thought about making a dress.
“I… yeah, I could be the groom.” Aaron nodded.
Christy was pleased that he recovered so quickly.
“Ew! Daddy!” Izzie’s face squished at the idea. “That would be too weird.”
“Oh.” He actually looked disappointed.
But Izzie brightened. “But you could be the groom. If Christy was the bride.”
Izzie looked to be holding her breath as she awaited Christy response.
Now it was Christy’s turn to suffer a momentary bout of muteness. Then she saw Aaron offering her an I’m-game-if-you-are grin. There was nothing else for Christy to do but lift her hands and say, “Okay.”
Chapter Six
Although finding items to create her bridal costume had taken longer than she’d expected, Christy thought she was ready for the pretend wedding. At first, she brought each item as she found it to ask Aaron if it was okay to cut it apart and shape it into something new. He’d finally given her carte blanche, and she and Izzie had gone wild. She hadn’t played dress-up in years, since the days she and Danielle had donned boas and wide-brimmed hats before strutting around the living room. Christy had forgotten how much fun little girls could be when they were excited about pretty clothes.
After the “dress” was complete, Christy had shooed Izzie out of the bedroom so she could make a veil.
“But you might need my help,” Izzie complained.
Christy insisted. “I want you to be surprised by something.”
“Oh, all right.” Then her face brightened. “I’ll go work on the ceremony. And a certificate! We need an official paper.” And she rushed out the door in search of her art pad and markers. “Hurry up!” Izzie called from the hallway. “It’s almost time!”
Chuckling, Christy took the small circle she’d cut from the center of the round, damask tablecloth she’d used as the skirt of her gown. She folded the fabric in little pleats and bobby-pinned it at a jaunty angle on her head. Then she pinned some netting she’d found in the kitchen so it draped over her eyes. Too bad it was red, but it did lend her outfit a more Christmassy feel. There. Almost perfect. It wasn’t like the long, traditional veils Izzie had called up on the iPad, but it would do just fine.
She stood, looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. The editors of Bride Magazine would be appalled, but she didn’t think she looked half bad. She’d dressed up the white
t-shirt she’d borrowed from Aaron with some gold tinsel. The overhead light softly glinted off the satiny tablecloth secured around her waist with a cord stolen from the living room curtains, the ornate gold tassel positioned in the center.
“Bride of the year,” Christy murmured, then she laughed.
Just then Aaron knocked at her door. “I’ve made you a bouquet.”
She accepted the three poinsettias he’d wrapped together with a leftover piece of ribbon. “Thanks,” she told him.
“Izzie’s waiting for us,” he said. “I have instructions to escort you to the living room when you’re ready.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
He smiled. “You look beautiful.”
Christy nearly snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Wait. What is that?”
He leaned close enough that she could smell the fresh scent of his soap, and her heart kicked against her ribs. She imagined burying her nose in the curve of his neck, but immediately blinked away the startling thought. Then he pulled something from her long, blond tresses.
“Is that a piece of onion skin?” he asked.
She nodded. “Probably. Where do you think I found the netting?”
“That’s an onion bag?” He laughed right out loud. His dark eyes glittered with humor. “Well, no woman has ever looked as ravishing in an onion bag, I don’t mind saying.”
Christy flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll bet you say that to all your pretend brides.”
“No,” he assured her, softly. “No, actually, I don’t. You’re the only pretend bride I’ve met who was wearing onion netting on her head.”
“That just makes me unique.”
He nodded, his voice lowering when he said, “That describes you perfectly.”
She reached up and placed her fingers on his chest, and her brows shot up when she heard a crinkling sound.
“Your tie.” Her mouth spread wide. “It’s made of newspaper.”
“I don’t have any suits here at the cottage,” he told her. “I was going to use the comic section, but the black and white newsprint seemed more formal.”
“It’s perfect.” And she honestly thought it was. What could be more fitting for a pretend wedding than an origami tie?
Aaron took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Shall we go get married?”
Izzie stood by the Christmas tree, and Christy grinned when she saw the child had done a little dressing up of her own. She’d taken the clear beaded garland off the tree and now had it draped around her throat in a multi-layered necklace, and a squat halo of gold tinsel perched on top of her head. Soft music filled the room, the tree sparkled, a fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of pine mingled with the delectable aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven; the setting couldn’t have been more cozy.
“Okay,” Izzie said, “I’m making this stuff up so I don’t know how good it will be.”
Her little hands were trembling with excitement.
“It’ll be just fine,” Aaron assured her.
“We’re all together here to celebrate this wedding.” Izzie gazed up at them, her expression uncertain, but that didn’t stop her. “I’m not official or anything like that, and this isn’t a church. We know this is a make-believe wedding, but that doesn’t make it not real. It’s a real, make-believe wedding.”
She offered them a self-conscious grin. “That was the opening. Now for the vows. I think you’re supposed to face each other when you say them.”
Dutifully, Christy and Aaron turned toward each other.
“Do you, Daddy,” Izzie said, “promise to like Christy?” She looked up at her father. “Don’t answer yet. There’s more questions.” Then she ordered, “Look at her, not me.”
When his gaze connected with Christy’s it was all they could do not to laugh.
“Will you be there for her in good times and in bad times? Will you promise never to get mad and yell at her? Will you be nice and helpful and happy… and be forever kind of friends with her?”
Aaron waited a beat to be sure his daughter was finished. Humor twinkled in his eyes as he said, “I do.”
“Do you, Christy, promise to like my daddy? Will you be with him in good times and in bad times? Will you not…” Izzie frowned. “Will you promise not to…” She signed. “I forgot exactly what I said, but will you promise all the stuff that daddy just promised?”
The urge to laugh almost got the best of Christy, but she kept her voice steady as she said, “I do.”
“Where’s the ring?” Izzi asked.
Aaron and Christy were clearly both caught off-guard. They looked at Izzie, both murmuring apologies.
The child’s shoulders rounded. “We have to have a ring. It was on the list.” Then she lifted her chin in triumph and tugged the ring from her finger. “Here—“ she thrust the ring at her dad “—use this.”
When a quick test fitting on Christy’s ring failed, Aaron slipped it onto her pinky finger. Christy took a moment to look at the gold Claddagh ring. She didn’t have any Irish in her family history, but from what she could recall, the ring was a symbol of friendship and loyalty.
“Now, before I make the big announcement,” Izzie said, “I want you to both stop. Don’t move. Just stand there and look at each other.” Her pause was just long enough for the adults to do as they were bid. “You’re both smiling. You’re both happy. I want you to think about this place, how pretty everything is, how beautiful Christy is, how handsome Daddy looks, and the smell of the turkey, the sound of the Christmas music… and remember this time. Forever.”
The smile on Aaron’s face began to slip, and Christy felt thick emotion well. However, Izzie quickly came to their rescue without even realizing it.
“By the power infested in me,” Izzie called out loud enough for the neighbor to hear, “I pronounce you bride and groom.” Immediately, she nudged them both. “You’re supposed to kiss now.”
“Izzie,” her father said, “You need to work on the romantic bits.”
“Huh?”
Almost by instinct it seemed, Aaron tucked a curled finger beneath Christy chin and tilted her face upward. His kiss was warm but chaste, just as a kiss in front of Izzie should be. But that didn’t keep Christy from reacting to it. Not in the least. Her heart tripped at a crazy beat and she felt a flush of heat roll throughout her body.
Izzie’s applause was infectious, and they both joined in.
“Now there’s a party!” When Izzie gave a little joyful jump, her halo slipped down over her ear.
There was nothing else to do but completely surrender to the festive air that Izzie had conjured. They ate and danced and laughed into the night.
Chapter Seven
Aaron awoke to what he thought was the sound of soft crying. He pushed himself out of bed and went straight to Izzie’s room. He found her sleeping soundly, Ernie tucked tightly under her arm. His brows drew together as he closed the bedroom door.
Deep gray shadows arrowed down the hallway and he made his way to Christy’s bedroom. He paused only a moment before her ragged breathing urged him to knock.
“Christy?” He opened the door without waiting for her reply. “Are you okay?”
She sat on the edge of the mattress, swiping at her face. Whether it was with a tissue or the backs of her hand, he couldn’t really tell in the gloom. Dim moonlight filtered through the filmy curtains and gave the skin of her shoulder and forearms a pearly glow.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” she said. “I’m okay. It’s nothing.”
He eased the door closed behind him so Izzie wouldn’t be disturbed by their voices, and he walked to the center of the room.
“It’s not nothing,” he whispered. “You’re crying.”
She sighed and sniffed. “I was lying here. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about how much fun I had today. We laughed so much, me, and you, and Izzie. I haven’t had such a wonderful Christmas in years. I… I’m so glad that you—that
we’ve been able to make this a wonderful time for her. Then, out of the blue, I realized that I hadn’t, you know, I hadn’t thought about Danielle much at all today. I wondered if that was because I’m losing her in some way. That… I don’t know. It sounds stupid, I guess. The thought just upset me, is all. I’ll be fine.”
Aaron moved to the bed and sat down beside her, her bare arm brushing against his caused a tickling sensation to skitter across his skin. He took her hands.
“You’re not losing Danielle,” he told her. Her anguish was breaking his heart. “You could never lose her, Christy. Never.”
She nodded, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.
“I mean it.” He gave her fingers a supportive squeeze. “It was my fault you didn’t have a chance to think about Danielle. We kept you busy, that’s all.”
“I know. I know.”
The deep breath she took sounded calming, but the tone of her voice told him she still blamed herself and guilt was weighing heavy.
“Christy, it’s impossible to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.”
Gratitude eased the tension in her beautiful face.
“It’s true,” he softly insisted. “And you wouldn’t need me to remind you of that if you hadn’t spent the whole day helping me with Izzie. Opening gifts, making breakfast, cutting a hole in a perfectly good tablecloth, pinning an onion bag on your head.”
His impulsive attempt at levity was rewarded with her small smile.
“And dinner was delicious.”
“I didn’t do it all myself.”
“Sure, all of us worked together,” he said. “And that was part of the plan. Making this a family holiday for my little girl.” He shook his head. “We should have found a way to include Danielle. I should have asked you to tell me a little something about her. You could have shared some Christmas memories with us around the tree.”
She looked up into his face, and although he wasn’t aware that she’d pulled her hands from his, she was suddenly sliding her fingers along his jaw line until his chin nestled in the palm of her hand.