A Family Like Hannah's

by Carol Ross

  * * *

  HANNAH FLIPPED OVER the card with the gray shark on it. She remembered where the other card was but pretended that she didn’t. She stifled a smile, feigning puzzlement as she watched Lucas squirm with excitement.

  “Darn,” she said as she turned the alligator card back over.

  He quickly flipped over one shark and then the other.

  “Ah, there it is!” She slapped a hand to her forehead, earning a giggle from Lucas.

  He turned an elephant card. She remembered they’d only seen the other elephant once, so she was thrilled when he picked the match. Tate had shared that he wasn’t sure where Lucas stood academically. He’d only gone to school sporadically and Penny certainly wasn’t one to emphasize learning.

  She knew Lucas was bright; he knew the alphabet and could write his name. He could barely read, but she and Tate had started working on that. Lucas was both quick and eager to learn.

  Now she flipped over the cat card and covered up the image so only the word remained. “What does this card say?”

  “Cat,” he said confidently.

  “You got it.” She high-fived him and smiled at Tate who was watching them from his spot on the floor. Leaning against the sofa, one leg outstretched, the other bent at the knee, he had a lazy, satisfied grin on his face. The way he watched her turned her insides to mush. She was beginning to crave these times when he seemed to live in the moment, forgetting his troubles and whatever dark thoughts plagued him.

  Lucas won the game and then promptly announced that he was hungry.

  Tate made a pizza from scratch. He’d prepared the dough that morning. Delicious yeasty flavor filled the air as he showed Lucas how to roll the soft dough onto a round stoneware pan. They smeared the crust with sauce, sprinkled on the cheese, and topped it off with sausage and pepperoni.

  She was impressed with Tate’s skill and told him so. She felt compelled to confess, “I can’t cook. I’m like the only person in my family who doesn’t cook. Even my cousin-in-law Emily who could barely make coffee when she met Bering, cooks better than I do—way better in fact.”

  “Viktor insisted I learn. It comes in very handy. We’re teaching Lucas, too.”

  Twenty minutes in the oven and the pizza was done. After eating their fill of the delicious cheesy dish, Lucas asked to be excused so he could pick out a movie.

  Tate’s lips curved up slowly, a playful expression on his face as he watched her. He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. Her heart began to race as he leaned toward her and then his soft lips were gently kissing hers. She felt a wave of affection—and happiness. The combination was intense and left her breathless.

  Pulling away with a satisfied grin he said, “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Thanks for inviting me,” she somehow managed to return.

  Lucas called from the next room. Less than halfway through the film, he fell asleep curled up between them on the sofa. When Tate carried him to his room, Hannah stood to tidy up a bit. She picked up Lucas’s coat to hang it in the closet.

  In the habit of checking kids’ pockets, she reached inside one of Lucas’s, pulled out the contents and felt her stomach drop as she examined what she found. She walked over and sat on the sofa, clutching the item in her hand.

  Tate came back into the room a few minutes later. “He’s doing so well, don’t you think? Thank you so much. I—” He stopped, undoubtedly concerned about the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it—I was cleaning up a little and I went to hang Lucas’s coat in the closet and I found this in his pocket.” She tipped her chin toward the coffee table.

  He walked closer. “What is it?”

  “It’s my cousin Janie’s wedding ring.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Tate watched as Lucas finished the last of his pancakes. Tate and Hannah had discussed the situation at length the night before. He wondered if he should call a therapist. Hannah had recommended a direct approach of asking Lucas in a nonthreatening manner. Don’t accuse, she’d said, just ask because kid logic can be very surprising sometimes.

  “Lucas, I need to ask you something, okay?”

  He nearly broke down as Lucas bobbed his head, his black hair sleep tousled, a spot of syrup dotting his race-car pajamas. Could this little guy, this child of his heart, be a thief? Didn’t he have enough going against him as it was?

  “Last night I found this ring in your coat pocket.” Tate had decided not to let him know that Hannah knew what he’d done. At least not yet. “Where did you get it?”

  Lucas stopped twirling his fork in the remaining syrup on his plate. “I found it at the boys’ house when I went with Hannah.”

  “What do you mean, you found it?”

  “It was sitting on the window ledge in a little dish.”

  Found it? Okay, maybe that meant he didn’t really understand what he was doing.

  “Why did you think it was okay to take it?”

  “That’s what Grandma would have me do. It was hard sometimes finding stuff at the places she took me, but I knew this was a good one when I saw it. You can sell it, Uncle Tate, and then we won’t run out of food so fast. It’s not fair that you have to buy all the food and I don’t help. That’s what Grandma would say.”

  Of course, Tate thought. Penny. He inhaled a long, slow breath; he couldn’t let Lucas see his anger. His lying, alcoholic, drug-abusing thief of a mother hadn’t bothered to teach her grandson how to read, but she’d taught him how to steal. Perfect. Was there no end to her selfishness and manipulation?

  He explained to Lucas the best he could that in spite of what she had told him, stealing was wrong. He also took the opportunity to explain how some of the ways his grandmother had treated him were also wrong and he could talk to Tate about them anytime. He would never get into trouble for telling him anything.

  Lucas seemed to understand. But then he burst into tears and climbed onto Tate’s lap.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Tate. I thought taking it would make it so I could stay with you longer.”

  Swallowing his own sob, Tate hugged him tight, rocking him gently in his arms. “You don’t have to do anything to make me keep you. Adults are supposed to take care of the kids in their life—that’s the way it works. I’m keeping you forever and I’m going to take care of you. That’s another promise. And remember, I always keep my promises, right?”

  * * *

  VIKTOR DROVE LUCAS into town for his swim lesson, while Tate waited in the atrium for Hannah to arrive.

  She waved as she as came in, quickly retrieved food for the fish and didn’t waste any time on her usual joy and ceremony in feeding them. Instead, she took a seat next to him on the garden bench, a look of concern stamped on her face.

  He handed her Janie’s ring.

  “How did it go?”

  “Fine, I think.” He relayed the conversation as she listened intently. He didn’t see any judgment on her face, and he realized how incredibly grateful he was for that.

  “It sounds like you did great. I can’t think of anything I would have said or done differently.”

  “I’m worried.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “I’m worried that I’m not doing the right things, saying the right things.”

  When she reached over and took his hand, he instantly felt better. Being able to share his concerns with her—a normal, functioning woman he could trust—was reassuring. Tate had never trusted a woman before in his entire life. He realized how much he wanted to not only trust Hannah but to rely on her. He smiled at her and relished the feeling.

  Tate wasn’t one to foist his problems off on someone else, but now he found himself wondering if that was what he was
doing where Lucas was concerned?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ON CHRISTMAS EVE, Tate, Viktor and Lucas walked through the wreath-and-garland-swathed door of Margaret and Ben James’s home. Tate felt a surprising, potent moment of claustrophobia at the sea of bodies and the riotous noise level, but thankfully Hannah had seen them arrive. As she hurried toward them with her brighter-than-the-sun smile, he not only felt himself smiling in return, he was struck with an immediate sense of calm.

  Lucas, who had been standing tense beside him seemed to feel it, too. The Hannah effect, he thought, as he watched Lucas’s shoulders relax and a happy smile spread over his face. He folded his little hand around hers and Tate found himself wanting to do the same.

  She set about making introductions, starting with her parents, and Tate thought she bore a strong resemblance to her mother. But those sharp, caramel-toned eyes she’d definitely inherited from her dad.

  Ben and Margaret were warm and kind and seemed genuinely excited to have strangers joining their festivities. They moved farther into the house as Burl Ives sang out his wish for them all to have a holly jolly Christmas this year. Tate tried to soak it all in. It even smelled like how he imagined Christmas should smell; evergreen and peppermint with hints of cinnamon and vanilla.

  Hannah led them into the spacious great room where holiday knickknacks took up nearly every inch of flat space; snowmen were arranged along the top of a long bookshelf that stretched across much of one wall, a collection of Santa Clauses were displayed atop the fireplace hearth and a large nativity scene had its own shelf.

  Lucas was grinning from ear to ear while firmly latched to Hannah’s side. He tapped on her arm and she bent to listen to what he had to say.

  Tate couldn’t hear him over the din, but Hannah said, “Sure.”

  She smiled at him and Viktor. “Lucas wants to go see Mom’s Christmas village.” She pointed across the room toward the elaborate display.

  Tate was relieved that Lucas wanted to be with Hannah, yet a pang of alarm sliced through him as he watched him go. He knew he was in good hands—it wasn’t that. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but his palms were sweaty and the uncomfortable tightness in his chest was back and escalating to a full-blown squeezing pain.

  Tate welcomed the distraction as Margaret introduced him to some friends. Next he met Hannah’s younger sisters Iris and Hazel, two of the triplets. The resemblance among all the sisters was striking, although he thought none of them had Hannah’s level of magnetism. Hannah just seemed to shine. He and Viktor chatted with Iris as she led them to the appetizers and beverages.

  He filled a small plate and accepted a cup of hot, spicy cider before settling in the great room where he discussed fishing with Hannah’s dad, Ben, for a while. He chatted with Tag and met the remaining triplet, Seth, who began asking him about snowboarding.

  Tate managed to keep an eye on Hannah and Lucas at the same time. They’d been playing a noisy dice game with a group of kids and he couldn’t help but notice that all of the children seemed enraptured by her. She was like the Pied Piper of children, and adults, too, from what Tate could discern.

  After the game she and Lucas disappeared through the doorway leading to another room. He waited for a break in the conversation and then followed. He found a new crowd in the kitchen where he met an older woman he learned was Hannah’s aunt Claire, her cousin Janie’s mom.

  Claire and Janie were roasting chestnuts. Tate had never seen anyone roast a chestnut before; he didn’t realize people did more than sing about that activity in this day and age. The kids gathered around as Claire showed the older kids how to carefully score the surface and warned them about the importance of their technique so they didn’t cut themselves.

  The nutty smell made his mouth water and when Lucas brought him one he declared the warm buttery nut one of the most delicious things he’d ever tasted. Lucas was literally bouncing with joy and chattering a mile a minute—something else he had never seen before.

  He stood in front of Hannah and held his arms aloft. She lifted him easily and swung him upward high in the air. Then, pulling him close and hugging him tight, she whispered something in his ear.

  As Lucas giggled wildly another wave of uneasiness began to inhabit him, like a block of dry ice settling inside his core, its cold fog creeping through his body. It reminded him of the feeling he used to get when he didn’t immediately get the hang of a new trick on his board—a hopeless sense of inadequacy. Hannah was so good with him. Their bond had forged so naturally.

  She always seemed to know what to say, what to do, while Tate constantly questioned himself and felt like he was missing something, like he wasn’t doing enough. Would he ever achieve that easiness that Hannah had with him?

  She set Lucas back on his feet and he scampered off with some other kids. She turned her smile on him and Tate tried to return it but suspected he’d done a pretty poor job of it judging by the questioning look she gave him in return.

  Ben walked into the room and announced that dinner was ready. A chaotic line began to form around one of the three tables arranged in the dining area. One table was covered with homemade treats—cookies, pies, pastries and cakes. Bowls of nutmeg-sprinkled eggnog and holiday punch sat chilling on another smaller table. Cups were stacked alongside a gleaming silver ice-filled bucket.

  The long rectangular table featured an array of dishes arranged buffet-style. He thought he could identify the scents of garlic and rosemary and fresh-baked bread of some kind. Just then, Hannah’s sister Hazel walked by and set a heaping basket of rolls on the end of the table. Iris joined her, placing a huge red bowl filled with some kind of salad in the only empty space remaining in the middle of the table.

  Iris and Hazel flanked him, chatting and introducing him to various other family members and friends. Iris handed him a plate decorated with a wreath and birds in flight. He studied the design, trying to get a grip on his inexplicable anxiety.

  “The birds are decorating the wreath,” Hannah explained a moment later as she peeked over his shoulder. “See, this one is carrying a ribbon in its beak, this guy’s got a button or something and this one is fastening a flower here.” Her arm grazed his as she pointed and he could smell her sweet Hannah scent, like rose petals and vanilla. He suddenly found himself wishing she wasn’t so...perfect.

  He tipped the plate. “Ah, I see. You’re right.”

  “You doing okay?”

  And the fact she knew something was bothering him bothered him even more. “Of course,” he managed to say. “How could I not be? It’s like the Claus family reunion here.”

  She eyed him carefully. “Because this family is big and we can be a lot to take in all at once. I know you’re not used to this kind of thing and probably not sure what to make of it all.”

  “It’s great. I’m fine.” He knew he sounded defensive, prickly even, which wasn’t fair because he was a guest here, and she and the entire James family had been nothing but welcoming to him and Viktor and Lucas. He tried to hide it by changing the subject. “Lucas is having a great time.”

  “He is,” she replied quietly, her eyes all soft and filled with a concern that added guilt and edginess to his already-overloaded emotions.

  Gesturing toward the table she said, “Why don’t you fix your plate and go eat with him?”

  He watched her disappear into the kitchen. People were filling their plates and heading into the great room where portable tables had been set up and covered with festive Christmas cloths and baskets of napkin-wrapped flatware. Tate joined them even as he wanted to follow her—to apologize, but what could he say when he didn’t even know exactly what the problem was himself?

  Besides he wanted to be with Lucas, too.

  Viktor had already helped Lucas with his plate, so Tate settled next to them and tried to enjoy the best Christmas
meal he’d ever eaten.

  Near the end of the evening, Lucas climbed into Hannah’s lap and fell asleep. Across the room Viktor was visiting with Tag, Iris and a couple of Hannah’s cousins. Tate caught his eye and tipped his head toward the door. He nodded and soon rose to his feet. After thanking Ben and Margaret for their hospitality and saying their goodbyes, Tate gathered Lucas from Hannah’s arms.

  She walked them to the door.

  “Thank you guys for coming. I think Lucas had a great time.”

  Viktor chuckled. “That is understatement. I had wonderful time, too, Hannah. Your family—truly special bunch of people. You are very lucky.”

  “Thank you, Viktor. I think so, too. You guys are pretty lucky yourselves. Merry Christmas.”

  Hannah tried to catch his eye, but Tate avoided it, mumbled his own thank-you and goodbye.

  A cloud of despair officially settled over him as he carried Lucas to the car and strapped him in his booster seat. What was wrong with him? It really had been a great evening. Truly perfect. And then Tate admitted to himself that was exactly the problem—in his heart he knew he could never compete with perfect.

  * * *

  AFTER EVERYONE HAD LEFT, the dishes washed, and the rest of the house mostly cleaned, an exhausted Hannah settled on the cushy sectional sofa with her sisters and Adele. Ben, Margaret and Seth had gone to bed. In typical nice-guy fashion, Tag had left early because he’d volunteered to work Christmas day so his fellow paramedics who had children could enjoy a day off.

  Hannah, Shay and Adele had decided to sleep over at her parents’. Since the triplets were home for Christmas, the sisters thought it would be fun to wake up together again on Christmas morning as they had when they were kids. Adele had been raised by a single mother who had usually worked double shifts waitressing through the holidays, so she’d embraced the opportunity to be a part of the festivities.

  The women sipped eggnog and nibbled on desserts as they discussed the evening’s success.

  “That Lucas is one darling little boy, Hannah.” Adele took a bite of her coconut cream pie.