Neither child needed much time to think.
“Let’s surprise him,” Hillary said, her eyes wide.
“Definitely,” Patrick agreed, nodding solemnly.
Exactly the answer Carol wanted to hear.
***
Ben stood at the top of the staircase and surveyed the damage to his home. As best he could tell a yule bomb had exploded while he’d been asleep. And he knew just who had detonated it.
“Miss Kane,” he called out as he made his way down the stairs. His shoulder ached but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his head.
He found her in the foyer, she was busy bundling the children into their coats.
She turned to smile at him. “Good morning. I trust you slept well?” Without waiting for an answer she turned back to Hillary and helped her fasten her tutu over her snow pants.
He opened his mouth to point out the ridiculousness of wearing a tutu outdoors but stopped himself. He watched the children pull their mittens on. Their eyes were shining. Shining. He couldn’t remember ever seeing them look so happy.
“Do you want to come outside with us, Daddy?” Hillary asked.
“After I have some coffee, honey, I will.”
“Don’t forget to eat your breakfast,” Patrick piped up. “We had some delicious-”
But just what his son had for breakfast was to remain a mystery because Hillary’s right hand clamped firmly over her brother’s mouth. Ben had an idea that they’d sweet talked Carol into substituting the bran cereal he preferred they eat with frosted flakes or something equally unhealthy.
Carol stood. “We’ll just be outside if you need anything.” She opened the front door. “There’s a pot of tea on the stove and fresh coffee in the coffee maker. I wasn’t sure which you preferred.”
“Wait just a moment, Miss Kane. I need to speak with you.”
“And I need to supervise the children outside.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure we can fit in a talk sometime today.”
Nice try. “No. Now is better.” He turned to his children. “You two may play right in the front area outside the kitchen window. Miss Kane and I will both have an eye on you and we’ll be out shortly.”
They hastily agreed to his terms and scrambled out the door, doubtless wanting to get out before he changed his mind.
He nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “May I have a word?”
“Certainly, Mr. Hanson. I can see you have something on your mind.”
He watched as Carol took down a mug from the cupboard. It amazed him how comfortable she appeared to be in his home and with his children. Was she like this everywhere she went?
“Coffee or tea?” she asked him.
“Coffee,” he said, and then settled himself at the kitchen table. His shoulder ached but he’d had a surprisingly good night’s sleep. Which wasn’t such a good thing as it turned out. If he’d been tossing and turning last night maybe he’d have heard Carol creating havoc and could have put a stop to her decorating. At least it would have saved her the trouble of packing it all up today.
“What did you do to my house last night?” He was forced to add a begrudging ‘thank you’ as she slid a mug of coffee in front of him.
“The children love the decorations,” Carol said.
He followed her gaze as she watched the children through the window. Hillary and Patrick had abandoned their snowman to start a good natured snowball fight.
“They are precious children.”
“Thank you,” Ben was forced to say again. As upset about the mess in the other room as he was, he couldn’t be churlish enough to ignore her compliment. They were wonderful children. All the more reason to protect them from this holiday nonsense before it led to disappointment on a massive scale.
He picked up his coffee mug but froze when it was two inches from his lips. He’d never seen this mug before in his life. It was white and he moved it back so he could read what the red letters spelled out.
Be nice! Or you’ll end up on Santa’s naughty list.
He slammed the mug down, not caring that coffee sloshed onto the table. “Miss Kane, this has gone too far. Where are my coffee mugs?”
“On the top shelf of the pantry until after Christmas,” she answered, apparently not at all rattled by his frustration. “I have others if you’d prefer.” She rose and reached for his mug. “Let me get you a top-off. I have a Rudolph mug or you can have-”
“Sit down,” he insisted. “Just what is the matter with you?”
She didn’t sit. She stood, hands on her hips, the first crack in her calm composure beginning to show. “I could well ask you the same thing.”
He stood and stared down at her. Her blue eyes snapped and a faint redness stained her cheeks. He pushed away the thought that she looked downright charming when she was angry. And she was angry. He could see it.
“This Christmas nonsense has to stop. Now.”
“It isn’t nonsense.” She lifted her chin, defiance replacing her anger. “You’re trying so hard to ruin our Christmas and I can’t figure out why. It’s you who should cease and desist with the scrooge routine.”
Our Christmas? His head started to spin. Had she even been here a full twenty-four hours? Suddenly it was ‘our’ Christmas? That was going too far.
“I won’t have my children subjected to lie after lie about someone who doesn’t exist.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Santa Claus does exist. You are the one spreading venomous lies with that book you’re writing.”
He froze. How did she know about his book?
“How did you-” but the rest of his question was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open.
“Daddy, Miss Kane, come quickly,” Hillary shouted. “It’s Patrick. He needs help.”
With Carol only a step behind him, Ben followed his daughter out the front door and down the front steps. Hillary pointed up to the roof where a frightened looking Patrick stood, a string of lights in hand.
“What happened,” Ben asked Hillary. “Is he hurt?”
“He’s stuck.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “He’s scared. He can’t get down.”
“You’re alright, son,” Ben called up, hoping his voice would reassure his son. “I’ll have you down in a jiffy.” Just how he had no idea. He’d donated his tall ladder and had meant to replace it, but hadn’t gotten around to it. He swore under his breath.
“How did Patrick get up there?” Carol asked.
“He pretended he was a monkey, just like you said.”
Ben shot an accusing look in Carol’s direction but she didn’t look at him. She looked up at Patrick.
“Patrick,” she called out, “what are you doing up there?”
The little boy gulped. “I wanted to lay some lights on the roof for Santa. He needs a landing strip so he can land his sleigh.”
“Damn.” Ben clenched his good hand into a fist. “Do you see what you’ve done, Miss Kane?” he demanded. “All of this Santa nonsense is confusing the children.”
He watched as Carol slowly turned to look at him. “It would seem that if you are comfortable enough to insult me and accuse me of bogus charges, then you should be comfortable enough to call me Carol.” She turned away from him before he could respond.
“Patrick,” she called, “I think that is a wonderful idea. I’m coming up to help you finish it and then we’ll come down together, okay?”
The little boy nodded. “Can you hurry, Miss Kane? I’m afraid.”
“I’ll be right there, sweetie. Just hold on.” She turned to Ben. “Talk to him until I get up there. Do your best to reassure him.”
Before he could ask just how she planned to get up on the roof, Carol ran into the house. He and Hillary had barely begun to reassure Patrick before he saw Carol come around the other side of the chimney. He blinked in surprise.
He watched as Carol knelt down to hug Patrick. She must have said something to him that he couldn’t hear because Ben saw his son no
d in agreement.
“Look, Daddy,” Hillary beamed. “Isn’t Miss Kane clever? She’s going to help Patrick make a landing spot for Santa.” She grinned at her father. “Isn’t she something special?”
“Oh, yes, she’s something all right.” How on earth had she gotten up there? As annoyed as he still was with her, Ben had to give her credit for saving the moment. She’d allowed Patrick to salvage his pride by finishing what he’d gone up on the roof to do. To a little boy, being able to save face was no small thing.
“We’re done,” Carol called down. She pulled a small camera from her pocket and snapped a photo of a now proud looking Patrick standing in front of his design. She then returned to the edge. “Hillary, please stand under the tree and talk to Patrick as he comes down. He’s going to demonstrate that at heart, he truly is a monkey.”
Ben watched with pride as Patrick stepped forward, took a deep breath and reached out for the branch. He joined Hillary in distracting Patrick as he slowly made his way down. As soon as his son’s feet touched the ground Ben pulled his son close and hugged him.
“We have to help Miss Kane get down now,” Hillary reminded them.
Ben glanced up. Carol wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Where did she go?”
Patrick shrugged. “Around the back of the chimney, the same way she came up.”
They all three turned when they heard the front door close. Carol, now wearing her red wool coat and matching beret, locked the front door and came to stand beside them. Ben saw that she had his down jacket over her arm.
She handed it to him. “Are we ready?”
Ben was almost afraid to ask. “For what?”
“We’re going to the mall.”
Obviously not the least bit traumatized by the roof escapade, Hillary and Patrick let out a shout of joy and ran toward the SUV. Ben didn’t budge.
“Why on earth would you want to go to the mall?” he demanded.
“To show you just how wrong you are.” She lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “Santa is real and I can prove it."
He stared at her. The woman was insane, or at least teetering on the edge of insanity.
Or perhaps he was the one who was insane for allowing her to live in the same house with his children. Except that she was wonderful with them. He’d never seen his son or daughter look so happy. So carefree. So much like normal children. Carol Kane would make the perfect nanny. She was, he suddenly realized, exactly what they needed in their lives.
Carol stood next to the SUV, motioning for him to get in the passenger side. “Hurry up, Mr. Hanson. We don’t want to keep Santa Claus waiting. This is his busy season after all.”
Ben felt suddenly energized. Focused. The solution was obvious. All he had to do was help Carol get over her ridiculous obsession with Christmas.
Chapter Six
The Indian Village Mall parking lot was overflowing with cars. It took six trips through the entire lot to finally find a spot. Carol tried to ignore Ben’s grumbling as she held his car door open for him. He was Beyond Bah Humbug personified. She seriously doubted he’d had any trouble coming up with the title for his book.
Her mood improved greatly as they neared the mall entrance. Christmas music blared from the speakers and the outside of the building was bedecked in festive green and red trim with silver giant bells. When they entered the three story atrium area she stopped short. “Oh, look, kids, it’s just like home.”
Hillary and Patrick, each with one mitten clad hand in hers, glanced up at her, matching quizzical expressions on their faces.
“For Santa, I mean. It must feel so like home for Santa,” she quickly corrected herself. She ignored Ben’s eyes on her. His watchful gaze was disconcerting. Had she given herself away? No, of course not. If he didn’t believe in Santa, then he would never believe that Santa had a daughter.
She and the children circled the North Pole display several times, oohing and aahing over the toy workshop. Fourteen elves carved, chiseled and hammered away at wooden toys. Fourteen. Ha. Fourteen hundred was more like it, and even with that number they were barely hitting their quota on time. It also struck her as funny that the workshop area was so neat and orderly. This close to the twenty-fifth the elves would be ankle deep in scraps of wrapping paper and ribbons. Wading through the chaotic workroom invariably meant she’d find scotch tape on the bottoms of her shoes. She smiled.
“I like it too,” Hillary beamed. “Thank you for bringing us, Miss Kane.”
Carol smiled down at her. She loved the joyful sparkle in Hillary’s eyes. This was what Christmas was truly about. Now she just needed to get Mr. Humbug to wake up and recognize it. To her surprise, she realized just how much she liked Ben Hanson. He was handsome, intelligent, kind and, if you didn’t count his bias against seasonal joy, he was a wonderful father.
“Oh, and thank you too, Daddy,” Hillary added.
Ben shook his head. “Trust me, the idea was all Miss Kane’s.”
Carol glanced over at him. If he’d had the use of both arms she had no doubt he’d have them crossed over his chest in a sulky protest.
“So, are we ready to meet Santa?” she asked the children.
A delighted chorus of yeses was exactly the response she’d hoped for. “Let’s go then. The line starts over there.” She pointed to the end of a line that started at the entrance to the North Pole and snaked around the side of the display where animated penguins skated around an igloo. She quickly counted the people in line ahead of them as they took their position at the end. Only thirteen families in front of them. Not bad for this time of year.
“Good God, Carol, there has to be at least ten families ahead of us.” Ben ran his good hand through his hair. She tried to ignore how roguishly attractive he looked with tousled hair. His churlish attitude, on the other hand, was comparatively much easier for her to disregard.
“Thirteen, actually.”
He groaned.
She turned and looked up into his brown eyes. “You have something more important to do this morning than spend time with your children?” Her tone, although challenging, stopped just short of rude. “Your book won’t be out in time for this Christmas so you have months to work on it. It can wait.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about my book?”
She paused for a long moment. “Your mother told me about it.”
His eyes instantly widened. “My mother? You spoke to my mother? When?”
“Last night. She phoned again after you were asleep.” Carol had rather enjoyed her conversation with Ben’s mother. Much like Ben’s sister, his mother seemed a very reasonable and perfectly pleasant person. Ben must take after his father. “We had a perfectly lovely conversation.”
“About my book?” His voice sounded strained. His shoulder must bother him more than he wanted to admit.
Carol shrugged. “We talked about it enough to know it’s ridiculous. The whole premise is entirely negative. What good can come of spreading a falsehood with the sole intention of taking away people’s joy?”
“What falsehood?” His brow was furrowed. “That Santa is a myth?”
“Sshh…lower your voice.” She looked around to see if anyone was paying them any mind. “There are children around.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re…you’re just…just so…” he stopped when he saw that his son and daughter were looking up at him expectantly.
“Miss Kane is so what, Daddy?” Patrick asked. “So nice?”
“Yes, of course she’s nice,” he conceded.
“So pretty too, don’t you think?” Hillary chimed in.
Carol felt her face flush as Ben’s eyes roved over her. After a long moment she looked away.
“Miss Kane is very pretty,” he finally said, his voice a bit softer now.
She still kept her eyes averted from his. They all moved up in line as another family went into Santa’s inner sanctum. Thank heaven the line was moving.
“What do we say to Santa?” Patrick
asked.
Carol opened her mouth to answer him but Ben spoke first.
“Listen, kids, we need to get this straight right now. There is no Santa Claus.”
Carol cringed. Ben’s voice was entirely too loud and far too adamant. This wasn’t either the time or place. She shook her head, desperately trying to signal him to be quiet but he ignored her.
“Santa Claus is a lie,” he went on. “It’s nothing more than a story parents make up to control their children’s behavior for one month out of every year. In fact-”
His next words were drowned out by the sound of crying children. And angry parents. Voices were raised, nasty looks were aplenty and Carol was sure that the woman behind them wanted to physically harm Ben but instead she settled for hissing at him, “I hope there’s a coal mine in your stocking, you Grinch.”
Carol’s heart sank. This was a disaster. And it was at least half her fault. She should have known he wasn’t ready for a visit yet.
“Elf coming through, excuse me, elf coming through,” a voice called as families stepped to the side to make room for one of Santa’s helpers. “Pardon me, please.”
As the voice grew nearer, Carol’s heart leapt. It was Jolly.
“It seems there’s a situation here,” Jolly said once she stood before them. The elf gave no indication she recognized Carol. “Anything I can help with?”
Carol waved her hand in Ben’s direction. “We have a non-believer here.”
It didn’t escape her notice that Ben had the good grace to flush but he, wisely she thought, remained silent.
Jolly looked up at Ben and made a tsking sound. “We can’t have that. I think you’d better come with me.”
“Where?” Ben asked.
“Wherever Santa wants you to go,” Carol said.
“Now, that’s just enough, Carol.” Ben’s voice grew louder. “You have to stop this Christmas nonsense. The children find you enchanting. I see why, but this fixation on Santa is just going overboard. It’s too much. It’s all going to end in misery for everyone.”
Miss Kane's Christmas : A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy Novella Page 4
