Single Dad's Christmas Miracle

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Single Dad's Christmas Miracle Page 13

by Susan Meier


  Everything inside her felt for him. If she could, she would take his pain. He was such a good man that it didn’t seem fair that he had to suffer. He was a good person, an honest person, something she’d longed for all her life.

  She swallowed. She had longed for this her entire life. A family with a man who protected his kids. A man who knew how to love.

  Whether it was convenient or not, difficult or not, she loved him and she would not let this break him.

  * * *

  Clark returned home from work as down as he left. Althea tried to cheer him up through dinner.

  “Jack was done with his tests twenty minutes before the average time.”

  “That’s great.”

  “I think he deserves a treat tonight.”

  Clark met her gaze over the dinner table. “A treat?”

  “I was thinking we could decorate the tree.”

  Jack gasped. “It’s too early.”

  “It’s less than a week before Christmas Eve.” She sent a hopeful look Clark’s way. “Besides, it’s not like there’s a law against decorating trees early when everybody seems to need a boost.”

  Catching her meaning, Clark sucked in a breath. “I suppose we could.”

  “I pulled the tree decorations from the attic and left them in the hall by the door again. Why don’t you go get them, Jack?”

  Jack said, “All right,” grabbed Teagan’s hand and flew out of the kitchen.

  “It’s not right for anybody to be sad this close to Christmas.”

  Clark sniffed a laugh. “So mine’s the mood you’re trying to boost.”

  “Not trying.” She smiled. “I will boost your mood. But this is good for the kids, too.”

  She heard the thump, thump, thump of the big box being dragged down the stairs and Clara Bell’s “Woof! Woof!”

  She jumped out of her seat. “I think I better go help him.”

  Clark motioned her down. “You finish your dinner. I’ll help.”

  Understanding that he might want some private time with the kids, Althea stayed behind, lingered over her dinner and put the dishes into the dishwasher.

  When she couldn’t delay any longer, she walked into the living room where Clark sat on the floor, artificial tree limbs sorted out in a big circle around him. Jack stood over his shoulder. Teagan stooped beside him.

  “So what’s up?”

  He sighed. “I’ve always hated this tree.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. “You have?”

  “Yes. Now it isn’t just artificial. It’s old and artificial. I think I’d like a real tree.”

  Althea peeked over at him. He shrugged. “If we’re going to make this our best Christmas ever, we should have a good tree.”

  Understanding what he was doing, she nodded. “I think that’s a great idea. Is there a tree farm around here?”

  Clark rose from the floor. “There are probably ten tree farms around here. But the best one is about five miles east.” He faced the kids. “Get your coats.”

  Driving to the tree farm, Clark said, “This will be our new tradition. Going out a few days before Christmas and picking our own tree.”

  Althea’s entire body tingled with happiness. She’d never helped choose a tree. But, better than that, she knew this adventure was good for the kids, as well as Clark. “I love real trees.”

  The closer they got to the tree farms, the happier he seemed to be. Not only did the tree shopping seem to take his mind off the DNA samples he’d sent that morning, but also this was a family who needed some new traditions.

  When they arrived at the tree farm, Clark climbed out and helped Teagan out of her car seat. Carrying her, he walked to the makeshift stand in front of what looked like hundreds of rows of trees lit by huge overhead lights.

  “We’re here for a tree.”

  The old man running the stand pointed to the right where dozens of trees leaned against the side of an old building. “We have some pre-cut here or you can pick your own.”

  He glanced at the trees then Teagan’s eager face. “I think I’d like the kids to have the experience of picking our own tree.”

  Her heart splintered in two for him and she suddenly understood. As he was putting together the artificial tree, he must have realized this might be his last Christmas with his little girl. And he intended to make it the best Christmas possible.

  With Clark and Teagan leading the way, they started down one of the rows of trees. The music being piped around the farm shifted from “Here Comes Santa Claus” to “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” A light, powdery snow began to fall. Clark stopped in front of a tree.

  “Look at this one.”

  She had to crane her neck to see the top. “I think it might be a bit too tall.”

  He nodded and started down the row again.

  Teagan turned in her dad’s arms and grinned at Althea who laughed. “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” floated around them. Caught in the spirit, Althea began to sing, too.

  “We wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”

  “Glad tidings we bring to you and your kin.” Jack joined in. Althea laughed and put her hand across his shoulder.

  “We wish you a Merry Christmas,” Clark joined in. “And a Happy New Year.”

  He stopped. “Hey, look at this one.”

  Althea and Jack stopped. The tree was tall, but not too tall. Bushy branches and a bright green color indicated a healthy tree.

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  “I think it’s perfect, too.” Clark looked to Jack. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s great.”

  His voice was hushed, solemn, as if it was his first Christmas. In truth, it might actually be his first real Christmas since his mom’s death.

  Althea rubbed her hand across the top of his shoulders. “Wait until we get it decorated. I found so many beautiful ornaments in the boxes in the attic.”

  Jack nodded. “Should I go get the guy with the axe?”

  Clark laughed. “I think a saw will be enough.”

  The caretaker sent one of his employees back with Jack to help cut the tree. He wrapped twine around the branches to make it possible to tie it to the top of the SUV. They were quiet on the way home, so Althea turned to face Teagan and Jack and began to sing, “We wish you a Merry Christmas.”

  Because that seemed to be the only song both she and Jack knew all the words for, they repeated it until Clark pulled in the driveway.

  Shutting off the SUV engine he said, “Okay. Enough!” But he laughed. Jack laughed. Teagan giggled and Althea’s spirits lifted. The dark cloud that seemed to have been hovering over Clark’s head was gone. His eyes glowed with happiness as he and Jack wrestled the tree into the house.

  Teagan stayed at Althea’s side, her little mittened hand tucked firmly in Althea’s.

  And for the first time in her life she felt that she belonged. Not as a teacher or friend, but as someone more. Someone special not just to Clark, but to the kids, too.

  Familiar fear tiptoed through her. Right now, making a Merry Christmas for the kids, she was good. Knowledgeable. All she had to do was figure out what she wanted, and do that for the kids. But what happened in January or February? What happened when they fell? Had a problem with a bully? This wasn’t like school where she had a principal for backup or parents to call in for a consultation. She would be on her own and she had no idea how to handle kid troubles.

  Jack and Clark installed the tree in the stand, then filled the bowl with water. Jack immediately walked over to the box of lights, but Clark stopped him. “It’s late. Plus, we’ve had enough fun for tonight. Let’s save some for tomorrow.”

  Jack looked about to ar
gue but Althea said, “Tomorrow we can string popcorn and we’ll have that to hang on the tree, too.”

  He said, “Okay.”

  “Great.” Clark scooped up Teagan. “You guys can go find something on TV while I get Chai Tea ready for bed.”

  Jack headed for the den with Althea on his heels. But she remembered she’d washed Teagan’s favorite nightie that day. The fear nudged at her again. She’d forgotten laundry. Left it in the dryer like a single woman did. Not a mom. Not someone responsible for kids.

  Telling herself to stop thinking of her failings, she changed directions. She pulled the clothes out of the dryer and hastily folded them. Carrying the armload of Teagan’s T-shirts and pajamas, she raced up the stairs and into Teagan’s bedroom.

  Clark rushed in behind her.

  She displayed the pajamas. “I forgot I’d washed these today.”

  He showed her a bottle of bath gel. “I forgot we’d run out of this last night.”

  Their gazes caught. Her fear eased a bit. Even seasoned father Clark forgot things a time or two. It might have been last minute that each had remembered, but they had remembered. In some ways that actually made them more compatible.

  She smiled.

  He smiled.

  “We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Bear.”

  At the sound of the sweet little voice, both Clark and Althea pivoted to face the bathroom.

  Clark whispered, “She’s singing.”

  Too stunned to speak, Althea nodded.

  As Teagan repeated “We Wish You a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Bear” over and over again, Clark and Althea sneaked up to the bathroom door, which was open a crack. They peeked inside.

  Naked, waiting to go into the tub, Teagan sang to her dirty pink bear.

  “Is she singing to the bear? Wishing the bear would have a happy Christmas?”

  Althea pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I think she’s singing about a happy new bear because she doesn’t have any frame of reference for a year, but she does know what a bear is.”

  “Oh.” He paused. His eyes softened with love. “Look how beautiful she is.”

  “And how happy. She loves you Clark. She’ll always be your little girl.”

  He blew his breath out on a long sigh. “Let’s not kid ourselves, if the DNA tests come back that she’s not my daughter chances are Brice will figure it out himself sooner or later.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “And what am I supposed to do if he doesn’t? Keep her from her biological dad?”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. Clark was in a horrible catch-22.

  He opened the door and walked inside. Picking up Teagan, he tickled her tummy then put her in the tub. “We heard you singing.”

  She blushed and pressed her lips together.

  Althea sat on the rim of the tub and ran her hand down Teagan’s silky hair. “Oh, sweetie. You have such a beautiful voice. We loved hearing it.”

  She shook her head and looked down at the bubbly water around her.

  She wasn’t going to talk.

  With a glance at Althea, Clark said, “Let’s get you bathed and read your story.”

  Obviously relieved, Teagan nodded enthusiastically.

  But walking down the stairs after Teagan was in bed, Clark sighed heavily. “You know that if a psychologist gets a hold of her and realizes she doesn’t talk, only whispers, they’ll crucify me. They’ll call me unfit and I’ll never keep her. I’ll be lucky to even get visitation rights.”

  Althea caught his arm. “That’s if the DNA tests come back saying she’s not yours. And if Brice sues you for custody. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Hey. Come on. I saw what you were doing tonight. You were working to make this the best Christmas ever. Don’t stop now. Don’t panic now. Keep going.”

  He hugged her. “Thank you.”

  She laughed. “For telling you not to borrow trouble? Or for bossing you around?”

  “For being here. For making me face the truth. For not letting me get negative.”

  His arms tightened around her, and warmth filled her. She couldn’t remember a time when somebody really wanted her around. Needed her. She might not be the best candidate for mom, but if Clark loved her she would make it work.

  She prayed the DNA results came back saying Clark was Teagan’s father.

  Until then, she would keep this family happy.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE NEXT MORNING, she got up before Clark and had pancakes on the griddle when he entered the kitchen.

  “What’s that smell?”

  She laughed. “It’s breakfast. I worked the opening shift at the diner my last two years of high school. I make a mean pancake.” And if she was going to do the job of keeping Clark and his kids happy while he awaited the DNA results, then she wasn’t going to fudge or pretend. She wouldn’t shy away from things she wanted to do, no matter how painful the memories. She would pull out all the stops—do everything she could do—to make these next few days happy.

  “Mmmm.” He sat on one of the stools around the center island as Teagan sleepily ambled into the room, bear under her arm.

  Clark pointed at the stack of pancakes Althea walked to the table. “Look at those.”

  Her eyes rounded and she smiled.

  “Teagan loves pancakes.”

  “Well, you are in luck,” Althea said as she set the plate of pancakes on the center island and sat on the stool across from Clark. She picked up Teagan’s plate. “How many do you want? Seven?”

  She giggled.

  Jack strolled into the room.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  “Hey.”

  He slid onto a stool.

  Clark pointed at the plate of pancakes. “Look. Althea made pancakes.”

  He roused himself a little. “Pancakes are good.”

  They passed syrup. Clark cut Teagan’s pancake. Althea dug into her own.

  “So what are you going to do today?”

  Jack glanced up at his dad. “I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, you finished your studies so I guess you can choose.”

  “You mean if I want to play video games all day I can?”

  “It’s sort of like a vacation. You finished your work. You get the reward of time off.”

  He leaped off his stool. “Cool! I’m going to call Owen. See if he can play Wizard World with me online today.”

  Clark pointed at his plate. “First you have to eat.”

  He slid back onto the stool.

  Clark gobbled his breakfast, grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. As always, Althea followed him, giving him a chance to give her special instructions for the day if he had any.

  Instead, he set down his briefcase, pulled her to him and kissed her. “I’ll see you at dinnertime. Do you want me to bring home something?”

  Too stunned to speak, she shook her head. He smiled. “Later.”

  She nodded.

  He opened the door and closed it behind him.

  She stared at it. Happiness swirled through her. One step at a time she could do this.

  Midmorning, when Jack was in the den playing video games, Teagan sat coloring at the desk beside him and Althea studied a cookbook, looking for something special for dinner, the doorbell rang.

  She jumped off the stool, calling, “I’ll get it,” as she passed the hall to the den.

  Without thought, she grabbed the doorknob and yanked open the door with a festive, “Happy holidays.”

  “Well, happy holidays to you, too, baby girl.”

  Her dad.

  Her chest fro
ze as her gaze whipped around. The kids weren’t behind her. She prayed they stayed in the den then pivoted to face her dad again.

  “Get out.”

  “Hell, I’m not even in. I’m on the damned porch.” He smiled at her. His gray whiskers lifting as his jowls rose. His beady eyes crinkling at the corners. “Besides, is that any way to treat your dad?”

  “You were never a dad to me.”

  “Ah, hell, kitten. I did the best I could with what I had.”

  She gaped at him. “You had a successful business, a beautiful wife, two daughters who worked like slaves for you. And you rewarded us by beating us. You’re a criminal.”

  He sniffed a laugh. “That’s fancy talk from somebody who stole her daddy’s car.”

  She shut up. Fear shivered through her. She recognized that voice. The warning voice. Hide before you get hit.

  “In fact, that’s pretty much why I’m here. I want blue book value on that car. Not what it’s worth now. What it was worth the day you took it.”

  Her chin lifted. “You never paid us for working at the diner. I think of taking that car as evening the scales.”

  “State police don’t see it that way. I ran a hypothetical past them and they say I’m entitled to restitution...or I can have you locked up.”

  Her heart stuttered. She automatically took a pace back. He could be lying. He always lied. But this wasn’t something to test him on. Eventually, she intended to pay him, but she couldn’t today. Not only was her bank account empty, but she also hadn’t printed out the receipt and release form she’d found at the legal site online. Plus, if she told him she would pay him later, he’d hound her to borrow the money or give him a post-dated check—or something. And then he’d be back because she didn’t yet have a release for him to sign.

  “I don’t have any money.”

  He peered into the foyer. “Seems like your boyfriend does.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. I’m his son’s teacher.”

  “So what do you get for this gig? Has to be good. More than a teacher’s salary.”

  Her heart stumbled again.

 

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