by Corbit, Dana
Everything about his being a father had been a surprise, from the reality of it to the joy he’d found in it. He’d known Rebecca for such a short time, and yet he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Though he had no doubt she was her own person and would flex the muscles of her independence more and more as she grew, Todd was pleased to know that she demonstrated the best in both of her parents: her mother’s spirit and enthusiasm and her father’s dry wit. Rebecca made him proud and humbled him at the same time. God had given them all a special gift when He’d brought this child into their lives.
“Mommy, can you help me open it?”
“I just don’t know why she didn’t ask me for help,” Todd said with a feigned frown.
“From what Rebecca told me, her new fashion doll lost most of its hair last night when you took it out of the package.” Hannah knelt next to Rebecca, opened the box and made quick work of removing the plastic ties that held Miss Gabrielle captive.
He stepped behind her and examined her work over her shoulder. “Hey, you got the easier packaging. Houdini couldn’t have escaped from the one I had.”
Hannah straightened, taking on an air of superiority. “Maybe I just make it look easy.” She held the straight face for several seconds before it folded into a grin. “It gets easier. Really. But you’ve already figured that out all on your own.”
After her last words, Hannah looked up at him, making it clear she meant more than just the parental headache of wrestling with toy manufacturers’ packaging. She seemed to speak of parenting in general, and, unless he was mistaken, she had just encouraged him and maybe even complimented him on his growth as a dad.
Todd cleared his throat and looked away to fight the emotion building inside him. “You go next, Hannah. We have to hurry. If you don’t mind, I have a story I’d like to read before breakfast.”
“Sounds great.”
Hannah unwrapped the giant white-chocolate candy bar, the leather-covered journal and the Detroit Pistons plaque, inserting an embarrassed “you didn’t have to” right after each “thank you.”
“You see? I couldn’t help myself.”
It had been a balancing act, choosing inexpensive gifts that wouldn’t seem too personal for their tentative relationship but would be symbolic to Hannah. Todd could tell from the way she chewed her lip and didn’t make eye contact with him that the favorite things of her past still meant something to her now.
As she opened the last gift, a Christmas ornament for the collection she’d been amassing since she was a little girl, Todd wondered if he’d gone too far. It was a simple glass ball ornament with a painting of the Madonna. Why hadn’t he considered that the token he’d purchased as a tribute to both Hannah’s late mother and the mom Hannah had become might just be a stark reminder of all she’d lost?
For a few seconds, Hannah covered her face with her hands, but then she spread them aside. Though her eyes were shining with tears, she was smiling. Pain did fade, it appeared…over time. Perhaps, just perhaps, anger faded, as well.
“Thanks, Todd.” She tilted her head to the side and coughed into her hand. “That was sweet.”
“It’s your turn, Daddy.”
Rebecca scrambled over to the pile of gifts next to him and lifted the smaller of the two packages up to him. Inside it was a navy wool scarf.
“It’s to keep you warm,” Rebecca explained.
“The winter’s going to hit you pretty hard after a few years near the Equator.” Hannah indicated with a nod of her head for their daughter to hand Todd the second, much heavier gift.
As Todd pulled a thick photo album from inside the box, he glanced over at Hannah.
“I thought you deserved your own copy of history.”
On the first page were the words “Rebecca’s Birth Day.” In one picture, Hannah stood in a hospital gown, her hands resting on her full, rounded belly. Those that followed were the first pictures of a wrinkly and bald baby being cradled by her mother, grandfather and a woman Todd recognized from church.
A few pages further into the book, the photos began to change. Instead of snapshots alone, there were incredible black-and-white images—of the baby sleeping under a spray of sunlight, a toddler splashing water at the beach. Todd turned a few more pages, but those obviously professional pictures continued to be mixed among the candid shots.
Remembering, Todd glanced over to the Christmas tree and the framed artistic photos on the wall behind it. He shot a glance back to Hannah.
“They’re yours, aren’t they? You’re the photographer.”
She nodded, smiling. “It’s a hobby mostly. A photographer and an accountant—a strange combination, don’t you think?”
“Not strange. Anyway, you’re a great photographer.”
“It brings in a little extra money.”
He studied the framed photos again as his thoughts were drawn to another place, another time. “You used to take pictures all the time. I hated it.”
He chuckled with the memory of the wrestling matches that had resulted from his efforts to remove that camera from her hands…and the embraces that usually ended the game. Hannah must have remembered, as well, because she suddenly looked away, embarrassed.
“Thank you.” He waited for her to look back at him before he continued. “It’s great. I love it.”
“I’m glad.” She cleared her throat.
“Do they have Christmas at your old house, Daddy?”
Todd glanced up from the photo album. “You mean in Singapore?” At her nod, he continued. “It’s an island, you know. Some people there celebrate Christmas just like us. But they don’t have snow like we have here. It’s very hot, and it’s rainy sometimes.”
“Are they sad that there’s no snow?”
A smile pulled at his lips. “Maybe some are, but many like the warm weather, too.”
Her attention span filled with all the geography she could handle for one day, Rebecca turned back to her toys and immediately began undressing her doll.
“Didn’t you say something about a story?” Hannah reminded Todd.
Rebecca looked up from the floor. “Yeah, Daddy, will you read us a story? Please.”
“I can do that.” He reached one last time into his shopping bag and produced his worn, brown-leather Bible. Opening it to the passage he’d already marked, Todd made room for Rebecca to squeeze in next to him in the recliner. “I thought this would be a perfect occasion to read from the Book of Luke. It’s about Joseph and Mary’s trip to Bethlehem.
“‘While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.’”
“Mommy said a manger was a eating trough for animals. Why did they put Baby Jesus there?”
“Joseph and Mary were away from home and didn’t have a bed for Baby Jesus. At least the hay in the manger would keep our Lord warm. There he was, the Son of God, sleeping beside the farm animals.”
Todd hoped Hannah would pipe in with her opinion on the subject, but he only caught her staring at him strangely. “What? What is it?”
Instead of answering immediately, Hannah continued to stare at him, looking perplexed.
“Is something wrong, Hannah?”
She shook her head. “No, not wrong.”
“Then what is it?”
“I thought I knew you so well,” she said with a shrug. “I never really knew you at all, did I?”
At first her words made no sense to him, and then realization dawned. Though years ago Hannah had heard him speak of so many things, he’d never spoken so openly of his faith. Or had a whole lot of faith to speak of.
“You knew me. You still do.” Though he itched to touch her hand, Todd reached out to her with his smile alone. “I’ve changed some. But some changes are for the better.”
Chapter Nine
“Are you sure you don’t want another slice of pu
mpkin pie, Todd?”
Olivia Wells already had the pie plate in one hand, the server poised in the other. Sitting across from Hannah at the Woods family’s formal dining room table, Todd appeared almost the sage color of his sweater. He’d already eaten large servings of Olivia’s apple pie, cherries jubilee and Black Forest cake, even after consuming his share of the massive Christmas dinner at the Westins’.
“Come on, Todd. One more couldn’t hurt,” Reverend Bob prodded, holding back a smile.
“Except that it might make me explode right here on Mrs. Wells’s heirloom tablecloth.”
Hannah shook her head. “Ew, that wouldn’t be pretty.”
“Now, Todd, didn’t I tell you to call me Olivia?”
“Sorry. But no, thank you, Mrs.— I mean, Olivia. Your desserts are amazing, but I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Reverend Bob pushed back from the table and patted his full belly. “I believe I’ve had enough, as well, though the meal was wonderful.” He flashed a grateful look to Olivia before turning back to Todd. “Did you get the chance to talk to your parents today?”
“I called them this morning, which was already tonight, their time. Mom said the day was sunny and eighty-five degrees.”
“Did you tell her you’d build a snowman for her?” Hannah asked.
He nodded. “She told me she’d make a sand castle at the beach for me.”
“When do you think they’ll return stateside?” Bob sat back with his hand pressed to his stomach.
“Dad already took an extension, so he should be returning soon. They’ve been talking about wanting to come back a lot lately.” He didn’t have to mention the current development that probably had inspired their interest in moving back soon.
“It’s too bad they couldn’t come just for the holiday,” Bob continued. “We would have loved having them here, and I know they would have enjoyed Olivia’s cooking.”
Again, Bob smiled at his guest, and Olivia beamed. If this woman could make her father that happy, Hannah decided she could at least try to make an effort.
“Uh, Olivia, I just wanted to tell you that you really outdid yourself with Christmas dinner. Thanks so much for planning this.”
She meant it, too, even though initially she’d felt strange seeing her mother’s good china paired with Olivia’s lace tablecloth and linen napkins. The turkey had been golden and juicy, the side dishes, scrumptious. Olivia’s ham with honey-apricot glaze even had finicky Rebecca returning for seconds.
Although Hannah had been uncomfortable with the idea of sharing Christmas with her father’s lady friend, the celebration had been lovely. It was another great addition to the day that began with the private gift exchange at her apartment and continued through Reverend Bob’s inspiring holiday sermon at church.
Olivia stood up from the table and started stacking dishes. “It’s unfortunate that Rebecca fell asleep before dessert. Should we wake her?”
“No, that’s all right,” Todd said, shaking his head. “She has to be exhausted by now.” As he stood, he raised a hand to stop Olivia’s movement. “Here, let us get those. You have to be exhausted, too.”
Hannah stood next to him. “Yes, why don’t you and Dad go in the living room and relax. We’ll finish up in here.” Strange, the thought of being in a room alone with Todd didn’t make her feel uneasy the way it would have a few weeks before.
“Sounds good,” he said. “Just let me go check on Rebecca, and I’ll be in to help.”
Her heart warmed as she watched his retreating form. He was such an amazing father. How could she ever have questioned whether he would be? She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he climbed the stairs and then stopped in the doorway of her childhood bedroom. Soon she heard footsteps on the stairs again.
“Boy, she’s dead to the world,” he said as he reentered the kitchen through the swinging door.
“I wonder why. It wasn’t as if she woke up—and woke me up—at five-thirty or anything.”
Todd stepped next to her until they were standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder at the sink. Hannah rinsed the dishes and passed them to Todd to put in the dishwasher.
“Just five-thirty? I thought you said she got you up really early.”
“It’s early enough.”
“So you still get grouchy when you miss your beauty sleep.”
Hannah turned to give him her best evil eye, but Todd’s silly grin made it impossible for her to hold the glower. “I guess some things never change.”
“Some things do. I was glad to see Reverend Bob dating again. How long have he and Olivia been together?”
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. Several months.”
“You don’t like her, do you?”
“I like her just fine.”
His expression told her he didn’t believe her. “But you don’t think she’s right for your dad.”
Again, Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know what I think.”
“Would you think any woman was right for your dad?”
“Probably not.”
“But you want him to be happy, don’t you?”
Out of her side vision, she caught him watching her, waiting, expecting her to tell him what he already knew to be true. Reluctantly, she nodded. Of course, she wanted her father to be happy again. Maybe he would even be blessed to find someone with whom to share his life. She could still remember her father’s devastation after her mother died. Todd was there. He remembered, too.
Todd poured the automatic detergent into the dishwasher and closed the door. “Olivia seems to make him happy.”
“I know. I keep telling myself that. She’s not all that bad really, even if I don’t feel comfortable around her. She can’t help it she’s not—”
“Not your mother?”
“No, silly. Not Mary Nelsen.”
“Who? Your babysitter?”
“Mary’s great, and I think she’s been in love with Dad for years. He doesn’t have a clue. Mary loves Rebecca, too.” She paused, the memory of her child-care provider with her daughter bringing a smile to her lips. “She’s the closest thing to a grandmother Rebecca’s ever had.”
“She has another grandma…and another grandpa,” Todd said in a quiet voice.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He waved away her apology. “Don’t worry about it. My parents are dying to meet her.” He shot her an embarrassed look. “Well, they’re excited now that they’ve gotten over the shock of learning about her. They hope to visit in February.”
“I’m sure Rebecca will love meeting them.” For now, Hannah was just relieved that they’d changed the subject.
“You know you can’t choose for your father, right?” Todd said, dragging them back to the old subject.
“I know.”
A knock at the kitchen door ended the conversation. Reverend Bob stuck his head inside. “Oh, you are finished. We wondered what was taking you two so long.”
Hannah shifted, worried her father had overheard, though she doubted he would have been smiling like that if he had. Grabbing the dishrag, she started wiping down the counter. “We were just finishing up.”
Bob continued to stand holding the door open. He was wearing his long overcoat to cover his slacks and sports jacket.
“Olivia and I thought we’d take a stroll to work off our dinner. We would invite you two to join us, but we didn’t expect that you’d want to wake Rebecca.”
He probably wanted to be alone with his lady friend, too, but Hannah refrained from mentioning it.
“No, that’s fine. We’ll stay here,” Todd told him.
“Why don’t you two start a fire? Olivia and I will probably want to warm ourselves by it when we get back.”
“Sure, we can do that.”
With a wave, Bob backed out of the door.
Todd wiped his hands on a towel and crossed to the kitchen door. “I can’t believe they would go out into that weather on purpose when they could stay inside and keep wa
rm.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to the Michigan climate again. You did last time.” She followed him down the hall to the family room where five stockings dangled from the mantel—three embroidered ones for Bob, Hannah and Rebecca and two red felt socks, purchased just for this occasion.
He turned back to her. “The last time we were only moving here from Tennessee. This move has been much harder coming from a tropical climate.”
“Maybe it’s an age thing. You are a whole lot older this time.”
“Speak for yourself, sweetheart. Isn’t it great that we’re the same age?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Well, anyway, we still need to build that fire. You know how to do it, right?”
“I was hoping you knew.”
“Never a Boy Scout, eh? Well, allow me to demonstrate for you.” Hannah crouched in front of the fireplace, opened the glass doors and twisted a black control just beneath the pile of logs. Golden flames leaped out and licked over the faux wood.
Todd broke out in a round of applause. “Okay, you got me. I didn’t remember you having a gas fireplace.”
“Dad had it put in a few years ago.” She stood and warmed her hands near the fire before partially closing the doors.
Staring into the flame for several seconds, Todd approached the mantel and smoothed his index finger over the tiny Baby Jesus in the crystal crèche arranged on top.
“That belonged to my mother.” Hannah stretched up to the mantel and ran her fingers over the sloping shape of one of the crystal Christmas trees that marked both ends of the display.
“I remember it. There are several things still in this house that remind me of her. She’s been gone for seven years, and her fingerprints are still everywhere here.”
Hannah’s heart squeezed. It was just like Todd, the Todd she remembered, to reassure her that her mother’s memory would be preserved. How had he known just how much she’d needed to hear that today when another woman’s touches filled the kitchen and dining room?
