12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart

by Anthology

  He had to think a minute. Too unsure of what she meant, he had no choice. "Excuse me?"

  "I know I should keep my mouth shut, play the game, see where this goes. If it goes anywhere at all. But I can't do that. It's not my style."

  "No." He smiled. "I don't imagine waiting for anything is your style."

  Shaking her head, she returned his easy grin, though hers was considerably more unsteady. "Why are you doing all this?" She waved from the table to the pianist. "What do you want from me? Because, quite frankly, I don't remember a roll in the hay requiring this much attention."

  Her words stunned him momentarily. "You're right. As much as I would love to have my hands all over you, this is not about sex. All I'd need to find a roll in the hay, as you put it, is a short while at a local bar and a little free-flowing booze. I'm not after that. Never have been."

  He'd hoped she would say something. All she did was continue to stare at him with laserlike precision that had him wondering if she could read his mind, but, if not, she was most certainly determining the veracity of his words. Honesty was the best policy. "I don't want to say the wrong thing."

  That clearly caught her by surprise. She eased forward slightly. "I don't understand."

  Brushing aside the teacup, he stretched his hand out to fold it over hers. "I'm a one-woman man. For years I thought that woman was Karen. Thought it would always be Karen. Thought I'd never find anyone else who … fit. Until you."

  Her eyes widened, and he could feel the tremble of her fingers beneath his.

  In for a penny, in for a pound. "I don't think I could handle losing you too."

  She closed her eyes, and his already hammering heart stuttered to a halt. When she lifted her lids, he saw a clarity that had been missing since they'd sat down again. "I don't want to lose you either. So what do we do about it?"

  * * *

  Annette was sure, if life got any better, her face would split in two from smiling so much. Just a few short weeks ago she almost dreaded another holiday without Tom, and now she could hardly wait for Christmas. And every holiday after that. Not that every holiday was guaranteed. Over tea she and Mike had agreed to take things one day at a time. They weren't kids anymore, and both clearly recognized when something was just right. But, in light of Brian's challenges, they'd agreed slow was the only way to proceed. Especially if they wanted this budding relationship to last, and she wanted that very much.

  Mike pulled into the drive. She could tell from the way his eyes darted from the dashboard clock to her front door that he was itching to check up on his son again.

  "Do you want to call about Brian and then come in for some dessert? Or maybe it would be best if you got back to him."

  "No." Mike's eyes twinkled with a hint of humor. "I've got to learn not to be so overprotective. If Liz needs me, she'll call. I would love to come in, if it's not too late."

  "Not at all. I think there's cheesecake in the fridge. Assuming the kids didn't eat it all in one sitting." Shoving open the front door, Annette listened for the sound of her family. A selfish little part of her had hoped they'd be in bed, and she could be alone with Mike. "Follow me. I think I hear the TV in the other room."

  Off the kitchen, the kids sat in the family room, sprawled on the sofa, watching some movie with a loud car-chase scene. Most likely Adam's choice. Maggie was installed in the recliner across the way, working on a crossword puzzle—though Annette had no idea how Maggie could think straight with the surround sound on.

  "Mom." Bethany looked up and waved.

  For a split second, Annette thought she saw disappointment cross her face, but now her daughter was all smiles. Adam was another story. The boy looked from Annette to Mike, Adam’s icy gaze enough to chill the room.

  "Hi, honey." She moved farther into the room, expecting the usual hug and kiss, only to have Adam push to his feet and leave without a word. "What the hell?"

  "Maybe I shouldn't have come in after all." Mike stared down the hall after Adam.

  "Nonsense." But she didn't get it. There hadn't been a single sign of discomfort or disapproval from either of her children. And now they'd spent all night worrying about how their date would affect Brian, but the one to pitch a silent fit was her son.

  "I'm afraid that might be my fault." Maggie set aside her paper and stood. "I was talking with the kids earlier. I said something about how nice it was that you'd found someone who made you as happy as their dad did, and Adam didn't react well."

  "I see." Annette's gaze turned to the empty hall.

  "You can't really blame him," Bethany said from her space on the sofa.

  Maggie sighed. "Mike, can I get you something to drink? We've got everything, including scotch and bourbon."

  "Actually"—Annette turned to her house manager and friend—"I promised him cheesecake."

  "Good choice." Maggie spun about toward the kitchen. "Cheesecake coming up."

  Mike glanced at Annette, and she clearly read the question in his eyes. "I'm sure. Why don’t you help Maggie cut five slices? We'll all join you in a minute."

  Bless the man, he didn't argue or make a fuss, just offered her a reassuring smile and fell in line behind Maggie.

  "Want to tell me what's going on?" Annette sat beside her daughter.

  "Nothing really. But you can't blame Adam for being upset."

  "I'll talk to Adam about Adam. I want to know what's going on with you."

  Bethany grabbed at a nearby cushion, then, sighing, tossed it aside again. "I know in my head that Dad wouldn't want you to be alone the rest of your life. I get it. I'm not stupid."

  "And you're not a little girl anymore either."

  That made Bethany smile. "Thanks. Like I said, I know this is in my head, but it's just going to take the rest of me a while to catch up. Mike's a nice guy. It's just … a little hard sometimes."

  Annette pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "It's hard on me too."

  "Really?" Bethany mumbled in her ear.

  "Really." Annette didn't pull away, until her daughter released her hold. "We're going to talk about this some more. Later. Right now I need to talk to Adam, and there's a slice of cheesecake in the kitchen with everyone's name on it."

  Bethany smiled just enough to let Annette know her daughter really would be okay with all of this. "I love you, Mom."

  "Love you too, baby." Annette patted her daughter's arm, and the two walked off in opposite directions. Reaching her son's room, Annette tapped lightly on the door frame. At least he hadn't closed the door. That was a good sign. "May I come in?"

  Adam sat in front of his Gamebox and nodded.

  "Want to tell me what's on your mind?" She eased onto the bed beside him.

  Putting down the controller, he gave her a halfhearted shrug.

  "Is this because of something Maggie said?"

  "I guess." Without actually picking up the controller again, Adam continued to fidget with it, before looking his mother in the face. "Mike's a nice guy and all, but he's not Dad."

  "No." Annette sucked in a breath. "He's not."

  "I mean"—Adam looked away again—"I like him, and it was okay going to Wednesday-night pizza and stuff with him and Brian, but—"

  "But that's different than just him and me going out?"

  "Maggie says Dad wouldn't want you to be alone forever. Do you think that's true?"

  "I'd like to think so. I know if I'd been the one who died, I wouldn't want Daddy to be sad without me."

  "But I miss him." Adam leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Now that he was growing up, hugging Mom and snuggling with Mom was considered only for little kids. The gesture had her heart swelling and her eyes watering.

  "I miss him too. I'll always miss him. But the heart is an interesting muscle. There's no limit to how much love it holds. I only have you and Bethany, but, when you guys grow up and have children of your own, I'm going to love them as much as I love you. And, if I live long enough to meet my great grandchildren,
I'll love them too. I won't love you any less because I have more people to love."

  He eased back and looked up at her. "Then you still love Dad?"

  "Always will." It was all she could do to blink back the tears.

  "And Brian's dad really makes you as happy as Dad did?"

  This time all Annette could do was nod. She'd only had a few weeks with Mike, but she hadn't been as happy as she was now since losing Tom.

  "Then I guess I'll catch up too."

  "Catch up?"

  "That's what Bethany called it. But we're not going to have to watch you two kissing and doing other mushy stuff, are we?"

  That had her laughing. "Let's agree that, for now, there will be no public mushiness."

  Adam's head bobbed. "Okay."

  "You up for some cheesecake?"

  His eyes lit up. "Maggie wouldn't let us have any until you got home."

  "I take it that's a yes."

  Adam didn't answer; he gave her a sly grin and ran out of the room, his growing feet slapping heavily against the wood floors. If only everything in life could be solved with a slice of cheesecake.

  Chapter 11

  "Go, Adam!" Hands cupping his mouth, Mike hollered loud and clear. "Cut to the hoop."

  Annette was on her feet, beside him, hooting. She didn't have a clue what to shout out that might help. All she knew was Adam had the ball at the other end of the court, and that was a good thing for scoring opportunity. All the rest of the rules about lines, boundaries, and dribbling were completely lost on her.

  Almost at the same time as Mike had yelled, Doug had given Adam the same instructions. Her son did as the two men had directed: drew the defense toward him and passed the ball to Jamie, a team member with Down syndrome. Jamie, taking his time—not something often seen in a regular game—aimed and flung the ball up and into the basket. The crowd erupted, and Annette clapped until her palms hurt.

  "This really is exciting." Sitting on the other side of Annette, Maile Everrett leaned in closer. "I'd forgotten how much fun it was going to Billy's school games."

  Though it astounded Mike when, one by one, the Everrett clan turned up in the bleachers, Annette wasn't even slightly surprised by the show of support. Emily had explained, with the high school program, few people had showed up at the first couple of games to cheer on the kids—only the parents and perhaps a few friends. As those players got better, more attendees came, packing the stands. Not wanting any of the kids in tonight's game to feel slighted, Emily made it a point to mention the game to her mother, brother, and friends.

  This close-knit family had taught Annette the true meaning of solidarity. The only people missing were Nick and Kara, since little Catherine had come down with a slight post-vaccinations fever. Jim was on another mission, so his wife, Lexie, was in town for a few days and here cheering on Adam and Brian and even Eddie. Billy and Angela were on Maile's other side. They'd brought their baby girl, Isabella, as well as Nick's son, Bradley. Emily and Bethany were on the lower bleachers, closer to the action. Although Emily cheered for the boys, she did a lot of smiling and thumbs-up pointing at Doug for his coaching efforts. Bethany followed more closely in her mother's footsteps, just hooting and hollering for both her brother and Brian.

  One of the away-team members passed the ball, and, instead of reaching the desired teammate, Brian, guarding the player, tapped the ball out of play. Once again Mike sprang to his feet, shouting, "Attaboy, Brian." Though it wasn't necessarily the right thing to have done, having Brian do anything was a major breakthrough.

  Unlike Adam, who occasionally glanced at the crowd when his name was called, Brian focused on the ball, watching and moving in tandem with his assigned player. Annette's heart swelled with pride. She'd come to understand just how hard doing those two simple tasks simultaneously were for Brian. Because of his friendship with Adam, and Doug taking his time to familiarize the special ed kids with himself and the gym, Brian had been more cooperative about his participation. Not so much for some of the other children. Annette had heard one of the boys on the other team hid every day after school to avoid practice, until one of the teachers finally had to escort him there.

  The fear of change was overwhelming for some of these kids. Or perhaps the fear of participation. She still wasn't sure, but she was delighted to see all the children on the court looking pleased, if a bit like preschoolers playing “herd” ball. So she understood expecting Brian to respond to the crowd was too much, but she and Mike cheered him on anyway. She truly believed, though Brian didn't acknowledge them, deep down he knew they were cheering for him.

  With only a few minutes left in the game, the other team had come within two points of catching up and just a moment ago had tied the score. For as raw as Annette's nerves were, she'd have thought the children were playing in the Olympics. Watching the clock tick by slowly, she almost didn't see Eddie dribbling up the court to shoot and score. Another wave of cheers and whistles surrounded her.

  “Nice shot, Eddie,” Annette shouted seconds before the final horn blew. The boy's team had won the game by only two points.

  "Wow," Billy's wife, Angela, said, shaking her head. "That was a nail-biter."

  "Tell me about it." Annette leaned closer to Mike, knowing, if she sidled next to him, he'd shoot out his hand for her to hold. She loved all the small silent understandings they'd come to. Some days she swore he could actually read her mind.

  From where she stood, she could easily see the children below. The teams crossed the court to shake the opposing team members' hands and then, she noticed, on their way out of the gym, Adam and Eddie doing a high five, followed by Eddie giving Brian a high five too. She knew it was mostly because Brian felt the need to copy everything Adam did, but she liked the idea that Eddie was, indeed, learning more about teamwork. This was especially true since, as Adam had reported to her, even though she'd cut back to only joining the boys for lunch one day a week, Eddie no longer terrorized the geeks and misfits.

  "Okay. Down to the locker rooms to wait for the boys." Mike climbed over the row in front of him. Still holding on to Annette, he waited for her to land beside him before extending his other hand to the Everrett matriarch.

  "Don't you even think about it." Maile slapped at his hand. "I'm not that old yet."

  Annette laughed. "He helped me. I certainly hope I'm not that old yet."

  "At your age it doesn't matter." Maile chuckled beside her, waving off the comment. "At my age, climbing down myself is a statement."

  "Ah. Got it."

  Holding back a grin, Mike squeezed Annette’s fingers a little tighter. Maile was definitely a force to be reckoned with. "This may sound a bit silly, but I feel like a real parent."

  Annette's face scrunched in confusion.

  Holding her hand, Mike and she continued to work their way toward to the gym floor. "Today I drove my son to another school to play in a ball game. For the last thirty-plus minutes, I sat in the bleachers, cheering for my child, like all the other parents here. It felt so normal."

  There were no words for the emotions gurgling inside her. Sharing this moment with Mike had her nearly tearing up. So many things the average parent took for granted. So much she still didn't understand but was slowly learning.

  "Are we all heading out for a celebratory ice cream?" Billy asked, one arm around his wife, the other held the infant carrier with Isabella.

  "No." Mike shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea tonight. We're going to go home to familiar territory and lay low."

  "Understood." Billy gave a curt dip of his chin, and Annette got the feeling Billy understood things better than any of them.

  "Besides," Annette said, "we promised the boys we'd do the Christmas tree at Brian's tonight."

  Billy frowned and looked over his shoulder to Annette. "Christmas is only a few days away. Isn't it a little late to be putting up a tree?"

  "We don't usually do trees at all," Mike answered, continuing their descent. "But we've been t
o Annette and Adam's several times since they've had the tree up. Brian keeps staring at the lights. When he was young, the tree just sent him into a tizzy. Now he wants one of his own, so tonight's the night. I figure they'll be on an adrenaline high from a well-played game—at least Adam will. Brian's harder to predict lately. So we might as well accomplish something while waiting for him to wind down."

  At the head of the line, Billy reached the end of the bleachers first and directed his wife down the gymnasium main hall.

  "So," Maile reached the next to last bleacher, "will you and Brian be joining us for Christmas Eve dinner with Annette and the children?"

  Annette noticed Mike's shoulders sag before he answered. "Thank you for the invitation but new places are difficult on Brian. Especially new places with lots of people and the commotion involved in presents and gift-giving. It's best if we treat the day as close to any other day as possible."

  That same furrow that appeared earlier on Billy's face formed now on his mother's brow. "I suppose you're right. But if anything changes, you're always welcome."

  "Thank you."

  This time it was Annette who squeezed Mike's hand, offering a little emotional reassurance. They'd discussed how to handle Christmas multiple times. Some days, when Brian had had an exceptionally eventless day, Mike had thought maybe. Then, on others, when Brian seemed to be on everyone's last nerve, Mike knew a big commotion like that wouldn't work. Tonight was a test of sorts. How well would Brian do with Annette and both her children at his home in a holidaylike event? Would Brian's familiarity and comfort with his own surroundings be enough to maintain his calm with the addition of new people and a Christmas tree? She prayed it would. If tonight went well, the new plans for Christmas involved the Beckers and the Delucas celebrating the holidays as one family.

  She loved that idea. One family. Integrating the two worlds would make The Brady Bunch seem like a walk in the park. Even though Adam and Bethany appeared to be on board with the growing relationship, and Brian had begun to accept the Deluca family's involvement in almost everything as part of his routine, she and Mike were still taking their time.