“I’m surprised you came with Jace.”
“So am I. I just hope I didn’t ruin the evening for Rachel.”
Serena looked past him, her gaze catching on something. “I think she’ll be okay.”
“Can I get you guys something to drink?” Rachel asked, appearing at Damian’s elbow.
“Yes—“ Jace began.
“No,” Damian said at the same time.
Rachel looked back and forth between them. “Well, which is it going to be?”
“We can’t stay long,” Damian explained. “Mom only gave us an hour.”
“Well, at least have some cookies.” Rachel pointed to a tray of beautifully decorated Christmas goodies sitting on the coffee table.
Jace immediately moved to pick a couple up, and Damian followed his brother’s example.
“These’re great,” Jace said enthusiastically.
“Yes, they are really good,” Damian agreed. “Did you make them?”
Rachel nodded. “They’re from my mom’s recipe. We made them every year.”
Damian heard the sadness in her voice and longed to comfort her, but he had no words. He wanted to take her in his arms and assure her that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone who loved her. But, of course, he couldn’t.
Tense silence filled the room, so thick, Damian figured he could have cut it with the proverbial knife.
“Thanks for the cookies, Rachel. Guess we’d better head back home.” Damian shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his fingers curling around the truck’s keys.
“We don’t have to leave quite yet,” Jace said, a plaintive look on his face.
“We do,” Damian said quietly. “Let’s let these ladies get back to their celebration. We need to go home and spend time with Mom and Dad.” It was just the four of them. He had never managed to get hold of Alex but his brother had left a message just saying his schedule was such that he couldn’t manage it, but he’d try and get home in the new year. Just one more disappointment to deal with.
Jace knew when he was beat. He shrugged into his jacket after Mari handed it to him. “See you on Saturday?”
Mari nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
As Damian walked past Rachel he paused and looked at her, longing for some sign that all was not over between them. Her beautiful, expressive eyes reflected sadness even though her lips curved into a smile.
“Merry Christmas, Damian.”
His hand, seemingly of its own accord, reached towards Rachel. Realizing what he was doing, Damian shoved it back into his pocket. “You have a Merry Christmas too, Rachel. I’m sorry if we spoiled your evening.”
“You didn’t. I hope you have a great time with your family.”
The three women walked with them to the door. The rush of cold air had the women stepping back, and Damian heard the door shut as soon as he and Jace stepped out.
Damian breathed a sigh of relief when they climbed into the truck and pulled out of the driveway. It really hadn’t been a good idea to go with Jace. He just hoped they hadn’t spoiled the women’s Christmas Eve together.
As he put the truck into gear, Damian glanced once more at Rachel’s house and saw all three women standing in the big picture window. Probably glad to see the taillights of his truck, Damian figured. There was a part of him that would have given a good chunk of money to be a fly on the wall of Rachel’s living room now that they’d left.
*****
“Well, that was interesting,” Rachel said as she stood at the window, flanked by Serena and Mari. “And unexpected.”
“Yeah, it was a surprise.” Serena moved from Rachel’s side. “Damian left a gift for you under the tree, by the way.”
Rachel turned from the window. “He did?”
Serena pointed to a rectangle-shaped box. Rachel couldn’t keep from going to the tree and picking it up.
“Are you going to open it?” Mari asked.
Rachel looked at the box. The wrapping paper was smooth beneath her fingers. She wondered if Damian had wrapped it himself, or it he’d had it gift wrapped at the store.
Damian’s scrawl filled the small card on the top of the box. Merry Christmas, Rachel. In Christ, Damian.
Her gift for him sat on the floor of her closet upstairs. She’d bought it before their discussion on Sunday night. After that it hadn’t felt right to give it him.
“Open it,” Mari urged.
Rachel glanced at the young woman. The excitement in her eyes was contagious. “Okay, I’ll open it.”
Mari dragged her over to the couch, and they sat down. “What do you think it is? Something wonderfully romantic?”
“I doubt it.” She slipped a fingernail under the tape and began to lift it off the paper.
“Maybe he’ll surprise you,” Serena said as she sat down on Rachel’s other side.
Rachel paused and glanced at her friend. “Do you know what it is?”
A small smile lifted the corner of Serena’s mouth, and she shrugged. “Open it.”
Now Rachel wasn’t so sure she wanted to see what lay beneath the beautiful Christmas paper.
“What are you waiting for?” Serena asked. “I promise it won’t bite.”
Rachel carefully removed the rest of the tape and pulled the wrapping paper away from the box beneath. She lifted the top of the box and parted the tissue paper to find what it concealed.
Grinning, Rachel pulled out a small book-light and held it up. “That’s pretty practical.”
“What is it?” Mari asked.
“See, you use this clamp to clip the light to your book so you can read without any other lights on.”
Mari hmphed. “Well, that’s hardly a romantic gift. Damian has really disappointed me.”
Rachel felt mainly relief and tried to push aside the small bubble of disappointment. It was only natural that Damian’s gift be something practical. After their conversation he probably hadn’t dared to give her a more personal gift.
“Hey, there’s a note on this thing.” Mari pointed to a small card hanging from the light.
Rachel had assumed it was information on the light. She turned the card around so she could read it. “Since I’m not the light of your life, I thought you might need this.”
Reading Damian’s words, Rachel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Because she had company, she just shook her head. “That guy.”
“I think there’s more,” Serena said, poking a finger at the tissue paper.
“Really?” Rachel turned her attention back to the box and pulled out the rest of the tissue paper. As she did, a flat black velvet box fell onto her lap. She stared at it.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Mari asked. “If you do this with every gift tomorrow morning, we’re going to be here until after the New Year.”
Rachel picked up the box and slowly opened it, afraid to see what lay inside. Her throat tightened as she spotted a gold pendent in the shape of a book hanging from a thin gold chain. She fingered the small book before pulling the chain free from the box and holding it up for a closer inspection. There in the middle of the book, sparkling in the light, was a diamond.
“Oooh,” Mari said as she leaned close. “Now that’s more like it. Damian has just redeemed himself.”
Rachel knew she shouldn’t keep it. It was far too expensive a gift now that their relationship, if it had ever been that, was over.
“Here.” Serena held out an envelope. “Damian asked me to give this to you if you seemed to be thinking about giving it back to him. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going through your mind at the moment.”
Rachel lowered the necklace back into the box and took the envelope. She lifted the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
Mari and Serena left her alone on the couch, suddenly making excuses about being hungry.
Smoothing the paper open, Rachel bent her head to read it.
“Rachel, I know you’re not going to want to keep this gift, and part of me un
derstands why. I hope you’ll reconsider. There are no strings attached to the necklace. I’ll have no expectations if you keep it. I saw it and thought of you. I’m hoping we can still be friends, so, from one friend to another, please accept the necklace. Damian.”
Rachel looked again at the necklace and with trembling fingers lifted it and managed to undo the hook. She looped it around her neck, fastening it beneath her hair. Rachel let her fingers trail along the gold chain until they reached the dainty book pendant. Gripping it, she closed her eyes, wishing for all the world that things could have been different, that she could have been a whole woman. The woman Damian thought she was.
“You okay?”
Rachel looked up to see Serena standing next to her, concern in her eyes.
“I’m fine. Just wishing things were different.”
“I wish I understood,” Serena said, sitting down in the spot she’d vacated earlier.
“Maybe someday I’ll tell you.” Rachel smiled and began to gather up the wrapping paper from the box. “Right now, we are going to celebrate Christmas.”
They spent the rest of the evening eating and talking. Late that night they found a channel that was playing “It’s a Wonderful Life” and, after changing into their pajamas, they curled up in front of the fireplace to watch it.
Since they didn’t get to bed until after one, they all slept in the next morning. Breakfast wasn’t high on anyone’s priority list, so they dove right into the presents and then on to their Christmas dinner. Much too soon, the day drew to a close.
“Are you sure you have to go?” Rachel asked Serena as they stood on the porch.
“I’ve already left my cat too long. She’s probably going nuts.” Serena stepped off the porch. “Thanks so much for a great Christmas. It wasn’t the lonely affair I thought it would be.”
“For me either,” Rachel agreed. “You should have just brought Mitzy along.”
Serena laughed. “She’s hyper enough in a familiar environment. I’d hate to see what she’d do in an unfamiliar one.” She stepped off the last step and turned to wave. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too.” Rachel wrapped her arms tighter across her chest as a sudden gust of cold wind hit them.
“Bye, Serena,” Mari called, peeking around Rachel.
They stood together in the waning daylight, watching as Serena’s car pulled out of the driveway and drove away.
“Yikes, it’s cold,” Rachel said. “Let’s get back inside.”
Mari followed her back into the house. “Is it okay if I stay for a while longer?”
“Stay as long as you’d like.” Rachel shut the front door. “We’ve still got a ton of food to eat.”
Mari groaned and rubbed her stomach. “Please, no more food.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Rachel grinned. “But someone’s going to have to help me eat this food. I’ll gain fifteen pounds if I eat it all myself. And since I already need to lose about ten, that’s not a good thing.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll eat more. Just not right now.”
“Let me guess. You can eat and eat and not gain a pound, right?”
Mari shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t seem to have to watch what I eat too carefully.”
“I hate you,” Rachel said, her grin taking the heat out of the words. “Your parents must have passed on some good genes. Lucky you.”
Mari suddenly fell silent, her expression pensive.
“Oh, Mari, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.” Rachel looped her arm around the shoulders of the younger woman.
Mari looked at her and smiled. “It’s okay. Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Rachel busied herself putting away the last of the dishes from dinner while she waited for Mari. It must be hard to be so young and already have no family. At least she had a father and a brother, even though it had been forever since she’d last seen them. Rachel hoped she hadn’t spoiled Mari’s day by bringing up sad memories.
Mari still hadn’t reappeared by the time Rachel had finished in the kitchen, so she wandered into the living room where they’d spent the morning unwrapping presents. The room was dimly lit with only lights from the Christmas tree and one small lamp. Rachel flicked the switch to turn on the gas fireplace, standing back to watch as the flames burst to life.
“Rachel?”
“I’m in the living room,” Rachel called out, turning towards the door.
Mari appeared in the doorway, a box in her arms.
“Another present?” Rachel asked with a smile.
“Maybe,” Mari replied cryptically. “Can we sit?”
Rachel wondered if Mari was going to share memories of her family with her. Silently she sat down next to Mari and waited for the young woman to begin.
Mari took an envelope out of the box and fingered it, her gaze not meeting Rachel’s.
“What’s wrong, Mari?”
“I lied to you,” The words came out in a rush.
“Really?” Her confession surprised Rachel. Mari had always seemed honest and up front. “About what?”
“I’m not really nineteen years old.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t the answer Rachel had expected. “How old are you?”
“I’m seventeen.”
“Seventeen? And you’re out on your own?”
“I’m a mature seventeen year-old,” Mari said, her chin lifting. “Or at least that’s what they tell me.”
“Well, I never would have guessed you were seventeen, so I guess they must be right.” Rachel frowned. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Mari shook her head. “I graduated early. My mom was home schooling me up until she died. When I enrolled in high school I was way ahead of everyone in my class, so they skipped me two grades.”
“Wow, you must be smart. Are you going to go to college?”
Mari nodded. “But I needed to take some time off to work on a couple of things first.”
“Is money a problem? I guess tuition is pretty high these days.”
“Money’s not an issue. My parents had been setting aside money for me for years. Plus, the inheritance they left me when they died was…significant.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It’s rough having to work and go to school at the same time.”
Mari didn’t reply, her gaze on the envelope she held. “There’s more.”
“More?” Rachel asked, wondering what it was this time.
“This has been more of an omission. Something I didn’t tell you, even though you never asked.”
Curious, Rachel looked at the young woman sensing tension in her. “I’m not going to get upset with you.”
“Here.” Mari thrust the envelope at her.
Cautiously Rachel took it and opened the flap. She pulled out the folded paper. “What is this, Mari?”
“A birth certificate.”
A thought hit Rachel with such force it took her breath away. A birth certificate. Her fingers shook as she unfolded the paper and stared at it, searching for the date.
There it was. August fifteenth, seventeen years ago. The letters blurred as she stared at the date. Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking up at Mari.
The young woman sat rigid next to her, apprehension on her pale face.
“Are you telling me that you’re my daughter?”
Chapter Eleven
Mari didn’t respond right away so Rachel asked her again. “Are you my daughter?”
The young girl captured her bottom lip between her teeth, suddenly looking more like a seventeen-year-old than she ever had. Then Mari nodded.
“Oh, my.” The words slipped out through trembling lips. Rachel had always hoped, had always dreamed this day would come.
She stared at Mari, searching for any part of herself in the young girl’s slender face. “We don’t look anything alike.”
“Our eyes,” Mari said. “We’ve go
t the same eyes.”
Rachel looked closer and saw the similarity, grateful that a small part of her existed in her daughter. “I guess we know you didn’t get your metabolism from me.”
Mari smiled then, the apprehension fading from her eyes.
“How did you know about me?” Rachel asked the first of a million questions that tumbled through her mind.
“My parents told me.”
“They told you? How old were you?”
“I’ve known forever that I was adopted. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know. My parents always told me I was the child they had prayed for and never thought they’d be able to have. I was their miracle baby.”
Rachel thought back seventeen years. She had such fuzzy memories of that whole time. The delivery had been a nightmare, and the days that followed had been no better.
But one memory lingered.
“It’s best you don’t hold her, sweetheart,” the nurse cautioned. “It will only make it harder to let go.”
“I have to see her,” Rachel pleaded. She’d gone through so much. She just needed to see it was worth it, that her child was perfect.
Frowning, the nurse left the room, hopefully to do as Rachel had asked.
Rachel tried to sit up. Pain from her C-section gripped her, taking her breath away. She panted, trying to keep on top of the agony. She’d ask the nurse for something to take the pain away later, but first Rachel wanted to see her baby without the dullness of the drugs clouding her mind.
“Here she is.” The nurse walked into the room pushing a bassinet on wheels. She bent over and picked up a swaddled bundle. Before handing her to Rachel, she asked one more time, “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’m sure.” Rachel held her arms out, eager to hold her daughter. The weight of the tiny baby filled her arms. Pain still coursed through her body, but Rachel ignored it.
The baby opened her eyes wide momentarily before squeezing them shut again. In that brief glimpse Rachel saw they were a deep brown, just like hers. The light fuzz of hair on her small head wasn’t brown like Rachel’s though. It looked almost red in the light shining through the window.
Rachel tried not to think of whom the baby resembled. She pushed aside those memories as she ran a hand over the downy softness.
Waiting For Rachel: A Christian Romance (Those Karlsson Boys) Page 12
