Miss Kane's Christmas : A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy Novella

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Miss Kane's Christmas : A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy Novella Page 2

by Mickelson,Caroline


  “My name is Carol,” she told him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Carol smiled. In looks and demeanor the child reminded her of his father. In fact, Patrick looked like a miniature Ben Hanson. He had the same light brown hair, the same intense gaze, and an aura of sweet bewilderment that pulled at her heart.

  “I’ve come to help take care of you and your sister. I met your father when I arrived last night but you and Hillary were already asleep.”

  Patrick entered the kitchen and sat at the table across from Carol, all the while keeping a tight grip on his blanket. She was relieved to see he didn’t seem frightened by her presence, merely curious.

  “Shall I help you find some breakfast?” Carol asked. Her actual face to face experience with children was quite limited she realized. Because so much of her family’s life revolved around bringing joy to children at the holiday time she felt like she knew a lot about children. But now, as she sat across from Patrick, she realized she wasn’t quite as prepared for this experience as she’d thought. “Are you hungry?”

  Patrick shook his head. “No.”

  “Do you have school today?” Carol asked.

  Patrick shook his head again. “We’re on break.”

  “Oh, that’s quite nice, isn’t it?” Carol smiled again, wishing that the little boy would do the same. “What sort of fun do you and Hillary have planned for your days off?”

  “We don’t have fun here.”

  Carol tried not to stare. But really, this was the last response she’d expected to hear. “How old are you Patrick?”

  “Six,” he said. “I’m in kindergarten.”

  “Then isn’t having fun technically your job?” Carol asked.

  Patrick was saved from having to answer by the arrival of his sister. Hillary shared her brother’s resemblance to their father. But unlike her brother, who was attired in his pajamas still, Hillary was fully dressed in a red argyle sweater worn with brown corduroy pants. Her outfit was completed by a pink tulle skirt worn over her pants.

  “Good morning, Hillary. I’m Carol.” She smiled, and was relieved when Hillary smiled back. “I’m here to help take care of you.”

  Hillary stuck out her hand and shook Carol’s. “It’s nice to meet you. What is your last name?”

  “Kane,” she supplied. “My full name is Carol Candy Kane but no one calls me that. I think it would sound awfully silly, don’t you?”

  Both children nodded and giggled. Candy Kane had been Santa’s idea of a little joke when she’d been born. But it came in handy now as going by Carol Claus was just a little too obvious.

  “Now, shall we get down to some serious business?” Carol asked.

  Wide eyed, the children nodded.

  “Wonderful. Let’s find a deck of cards.”

  ***

  “Good morning, Miss Kane.” Ben stopped in the entrance way to the kitchen, caught off guard by his children’s laughter. It wasn’t a sound he often heard, especially in the mornings. He looked from his son to his daughter. “What’s so funny?”

  They smiled at him but it was Carol who spoke next, and it didn’t escape his notice that she neatly sidestepped his question.

  “Good morning, Mr. Hanson. The children and I were just getting acquainted.”

  Ben looked at the children in turn. They seemed remarkably composed considering they’d awoken to find a stranger in the kitchen. But his children were usually composed, which was one of his worries. He frowned.

  “Ah, I take it you must be a first-thing-in-the-morning coffee drinker,” Carol said. “If you could point me in the direction of the right cupboard I can make a quick pot.”

  He glanced at his watch. “No time. We need to get going if we’re to drop you off at the airport in time.”

  “In time for what?” Carol asked. “I don’t have a flight scheduled.”

  Ben stared at her. Her composure was remarkable. She seemed perfectly at ease sitting in his kitchen, playing cards with his children as if she were an old family friend. The fact he was in an obvious hurry to be rid of her didn’t appear to faze her at all.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “That’s easily fixed, tell me what city you need to end up in and I’ll book a flight.” He flicked his finger across the screen looking for an airline schedule. “I’m sure we can find you something.”

  “Even with holiday travel being as busy as it is?”

  He fixed yet another curious glance on Carol. She was young as far as nannies went, but certainly she was old enough to know when she wasn’t wanted? In every other way she appeared to be socially appropriate. He must have been crazy to think that the solution to his child care problems was inviting a stranger into his home. He glanced between Hillary and Patrick. No, not crazy. Just desperate.

  “Which airport did you say would work best for you?” he asked again.

  “I didn’t.” Carol stood and gathered up the deck of cards and handed them to his daughter. “Hillary, dear, why don’t you and Patrick go set the game up in the living room. I’ll be right there. And remember, six cards for each of us.”

  Ben moved aside as the children obediently left the kitchen. He couldn’t deny that the children looked perfectly at ease with Carol. He, however, was quickly becoming disquieted by the ease with which she was fitting into his household.

  “Mr. Hanson, first let me say that I completely understand your qualms about leaving the children with someone you don’t know well, but please do remember that you reviewed my resume, references and clearances yourself. You must have been satisfied enough to engage me to watch the children. Might I know why you’ve changed your mind?”

  He hesitated, feeling slightly on the defensive. “I just feel that, well, it seems that I underestimated how great the change would be if someone actually moved in here.”

  “Ah, you’re nervous then.” Carol nodded her head as if the entire situation suddenly made sense. “I’m sure that after a few days we’ll have settled into a routine. When you’re home with the children I will be in my room or I’ll arrange to be out so that you don’t feel uncomfortable.”

  Ben put a finger under his shirt collar and wiggled it around for some more breathing space. Uncomfortable was the perfect word for the idea of having this lovely, composed young woman in his home.

  “Well, you see, the thing is that my work is quite demanding this time of year so I won’t actually be home very much-”

  “All the more reason you need me here then,” Carol said. “Unless you have a backup plan? Someone who can work days, nights, and weekends presumably? Someone who can devote themselves to Hillary and Patrick so they can enjoy their holiday school break as much as possible?’

  The young woman should be a lawyer, not a nanny, he thought. With the ability to pounce on his words and turn them around, she’d be in high demand in courtrooms across America.

  “Why don’t you let me stay for the day and we can discuss it this evening when you’re home from work?” Carol suggested. “It would give you all day to make other arrangements and it would give me time to make some plans.”

  Ben found himself nodding, if only in relief that he could get to the office where he always thought more clearly than he did at home. It was a safe zone where he didn’t think about the mess he was making of trying to raise the children himself. But he could do this. He could find a way out of this, find a child care solution that would be adequate. “Okay, then, one day. And I do apologize for the inconvenience and change of plans.”

  “Not to worry,” Carol said. “I understand perfectly.”

  He believed her. She spoke with a calm, confident manner that left him with no doubt she handled children skillfully, adults too for that matter.

  He gathered his coat and brief case from the hall closet. Feeling slightly guilty that he was so relieved to be leaving the house, he kissed each of his children on the forehead and then patted them of the top of the head. He opene
d his mouth to remind Hillary that she shouldn’t be wearing a tutu over her clothes but he stopped himself. He could sort that out later.

  With a last wave, he shut the front door behind him. He inhaled the cold, fresh morning air. This whole mess would all work itself out, he didn’t have to worry. By this time tomorrow he’d have new child care plans in place. Ones that didn’t involve a beautiful young woman living in his home.

  He stepped off the first step, right onto an icy second step. His feet flew out from under him. He reached out for the wrought iron railing but missed and landed on his side. A sharp pain shot through his entire body right before he blacked out.

  Chapter Three

  “A mild concussion and a sprained shoulder is all that ails your friend.” The emergency room physician shut her laptop and smiled reassuringly at Carol and the children. She handed a few slips of paper to Carol. “I recommend that Mr. Hanson take the remainder of the week off and rest at home with very limited activity. There are care instructions in your discharge papers, and you’re welcome to call the triage number if anything comes up.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Carol smiled her thanks before bundling Hillary and Patrick through the double swinging doors that led back into the waiting room. “See, you heard for yourselves straight from the doctor’s mouth that your father is going to be just fine,” she assured them.

  “Can we go home now?” Patrick asked as he shrugged into his jacket. “I’m tired.”

  Carol bent down to help him zip it up. Made with down feathers, it was toasty warm but it made Patrick’s arms stick straight out. His puffer jacket was black and his knit cap was white. He looked like a penguin. She ignored a stab of homesickness that shot through her.

  “Yes, we can go now. We just need to wait for your-” she broke off as a nurse brought Ben out in a wheelchair. His arm was in a sling and his face resembled a storm cloud. “There he is.” She waved cheerily, refusing to let her smile slip. Christmas was only days away and she had too much to do to get ready for it to waste time being unhappy.

  “I’ll just go bring the car around,” she said immediately after the nurse departed. She asked the children to wait with their father and then headed for the parking lot. A few moments later she swung the Hanson’s Toyota Highlander in front of the urgent care doors and jumped out to help Ben into the front seat.

  “Easy does it,” she said as she slipped her hand under his good arm. “Hillary and Patrick, you two hop into your seats and buckle yourselves in.”

  Ben took a few steps but then stopped abruptly. “What happened to my car?”

  Carol managed not to bump into him, but just barely. “What are you talking about?” she asked, although she already knew what had him staring at the SUV in horror.

  “Are those antlers on the front of my car?” His voice sounded an octave higher than she’d heard it before. But perhaps that was just the pain meds kicking in. “Is that a red ball strapped to the grill?”

  “Of course it’s not a red ball,” Carol said. “It’s Rudolph’s nose.”

  “Rudolph’s what?” he practically shouted. He stared down at her. “When did you have the time to-”

  His question was interrupted by the sound of an incoming ambulance siren. Knowing the car needed to be moved, he allowed Carol to help him into the seat but he continued to frown as she drove out of the hospital lot and turned onto the main road.

  “How about some Christmas music?” she asked. Considering it a rhetorical question, she reached over and switched on the radio. She fiddled with the knob until she heard Elvis’s Blue Christmas. Perfect. She loved Elvis. And it was a fitting song because it would be a blue Christmas if she couldn’t find a way to get Ben Hanson to stop frowning at every mention of anything holiday related. She turned the music up just loud enough to discourage him from further conversation, specifically from asking questions about the packages overflowing in the third row seat.

  She shot him a sideways glance. He looked miserable. Could some of it be due to his physical pain? Perhaps. But before he’d slipped and fallen that morning, he’d seemed just as awkward. She glanced in the rear view mirror. The children’s intense little faces seemed uncertain. Despite spending a limited amount of time with the Hanson family, Carol would consider it a safe bet that Ben loved his children and they him. And at their ages, and without their mother, they certainly needed him.

  Didn’t children always need their fathers? Even at her age she still delighted in spending time with her father, and when upset or confused she sought Santa’s council. And when she and her brother Nicholas had been Hillary and Patrick’s age they’d loved nothing more than going for a ride in Santa’s sleigh. On dark nights just like this one they’d gone for long rides, practice runs Santa had called them, and they’d taken such delight in looking at Christmas lights and chatting with their father.

  An uneasy sensation stirred within her. This situation wasn’t right. Not at all.

  And then Carol heard her father’s voice, her memory playing one of his favorite expressions as if it were a tape recording, “If it’s wrong, you just have to make it right.”

  As she drove past a house with a huge inflatable Santa in the front yard, Carol smiled. She now knew just what her father wanted her to do. It was time for some good old-fashioned Christmas magic and she knew just who to call in as reinforcements.

  ***

  Ben sank into his recliner, grateful to be off of his feet and even more grateful to be home. Rest, the doctor had said. As if. She hadn’t a clue that his house was being invaded by the Christmas spirit. And instead of the joyous feeling the season was supposed to invoke, he felt as if he were falling head first into a bottom less pit of sadness, loneliness and despair. And it was all Carol’s fault.

  He watched as she and the children brought in yet another armload of packages from the car. He opened his mouth to object but closed it again. Whatever was in those Target bags wasn’t the problem. It was her. Carol. She was the problem. And if he could get rid of her then everything else could be taken care of with one simple call to Goodwill.

  Pain shot through his arm as he tried to rise. Damn. Of all of the fool times to fall and hurt himself this had to be the worst. Twelve years he’d lived in the house, hundreds of times he’d used the front steps but today was the first time he had slipped on the ice. As much as he hated to admit it, it did change everything. How could he send Carol away without other child care lined up? He would need help now more than ever, but that didn’t have to mean it had to be Carol. Surely there were agencies for this sort of thing?

  “Hillary,” he called out. No answer. “Patrick?” he tried again.

  “Yes, Dad?” his son stuck his head in the living room.

  “Bring me the phone please.”

  Patrick shook his head. “I can’t, Miss Kane’s using it.”

  “I need my cell phone then. I think it’s on the kitchen counter, or maybe the hall table.” He started to get up. “It could also be in my jacket pocket. Let me look.”

  “Sit down. I can find it.” Patrick left but returned not a second later. “Don’t worry, Dad. If I can’t find it, Miss Kane will know just where it is.”

  Don’t worry? He couldn’t do anything but.

  He smiled gratefully when his son placed the phone in his outstretched hand but waited until Patrick was gone before sliding up the top to expose the keyboard. Texting with one hand proved to be more difficult than he thought so instead he punched in his sister’s phone number and waited for her to pick up.

  “Ben?” He heard his sister’s sleepy voice greet him. “What time is it?”

  He’d forgotten about the time difference. “Sorry, Cecily. Did I disturb you?”

  “It’s the middle of the night here, so yes you did but it’s okay.” And then he heard her tone change to one of panic. “Are Hillary and Patrick okay? What’s happened?”

  “They’re fine, just fine. They miss you though.”

  A curious silenc
e hung between them. Now that he had his sister on the line he felt foolish. Asking, or even hinting, that he needed her help, was unfair. She’d done so much, given so much, heck, she’d given up her life after Tami died to devote herself to the children. This was the first time in three years that she’d left them. And he was a heel to even think of asking her to cancel her trip and come home.

  “I miss them too. Now, what’s the matter? Is this about your shoulder?” Cecily asked.

  Ben nearly dropped the phone. “How did you know?”

  “Carol told me.”

  Ben was at a loss for words. Polite words anyway. His irritation was fast outweighing the pain in his shoulder.

  “You talked to her?”

  “Yep. She was kind enough to call and tell me about your fall. I think it was incredibly thoughtful of her, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, his sister continued, “I have to confess that I’ve felt horribly guilty about leaving you and the children at Christmas time. But talking to Carol made me feel so much better about it all.”

  “I bet it did,” was all Ben could manage to say.

  “It was the best Christmas gift I could have hoped to receive. She sounds delightful, and Patrick and Hillary sound happy too. We couldn’t have gotten any luckier, Ben. Now, tell me again why you called? Is something wrong?”

  Something? Try everything. But Ben couldn’t bring himself to drag his sister into his misgivings. He took a deep breath. “I knew your flight to London left in the morning and I just wanted to wish you well.”

  They chatted for a few more moments before he hung up. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was suddenly glad he hadn’t disrupted his sister’s plans. Cecily sounded happy and she deserved that. He trusted her judgment implicitly, especially when it came to the children.

  Get it together, Ben, he told himself. Three weeks. He could keep things together for three weeks until Cecily was home and then together they could look for a new nanny. He could make the best of this. He opened his eyes and started to get up but then he froze. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

 

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