Gib pointed out places the staff didn’t know existed. He explained the program scheduling and services offered, perhaps not in the same vernacular as an administrator, yet every bit as efficiently. When they left the building, Ethan motioned for Gib to go ahead to the limo. “I need to ask your sister a question.”
“Oh, man!” Gib obeyed with only a little shuffle of his feet. Ethan sidled next to Alexis. “I stocked the refrigerator with snacks. I figured I’d better make sure you didn’t mind before I offered them to Gib.”
“You ask me about snacks but not $600 boots?”
Ethan felt the blush erupt.
“Yes, snacks are fine. Gib needs calories. He’s on Adderall, which diminishes his appetite. When he’s hungry, I let him eat whatever appeals to him. We fight over so many things that I don’t make food an issue. Of course, the counselors don’t agree with my rationale.”
So much for getting on Alexis’s good side. Instead, he’d managed to distance an ocean between them. Once in the limo, Ethan figured he might find more congenial conversation with Gib, if singing songs counted as conversation.
Soon, Jasmine joined in. Alexis only listened.
Gib’s voice had not yet deepened, and his angelic tones filled the interior. Ethan looked forward to teaching his son to play the guitar. Gib must have asked Ethan to sing A Christmas Prayer a dozen times.
“You really like the song, eh?”
Gib leaned in and whispered. “Can you keep a secret?”
“As long as it doesn’t involve a crime or hurt anyone.”
Gib nearly crossed his eyes as if Ethan had stated the ridiculous. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s the secret?”
“A Christmas Prayer is my favorite song ever,” he whispered.
Getting to the meat of this secret would be like cracking a Brazil nut. “Why’s that, Gib?”
“’Cause I have a Christmas prayer.”
“What did you pray for?”
“I asked God to make Alexis happy.”
“What makes you think she isn’t?”
Gib leaned back continuing to speak in barely audible volumes. “She cries a lot. She doesn’t think I see her.”
“What do you think makes her sad?”
“Me. She wouldn’t be sad if I wasn’t around.”
Chapter Six
Alexis handed Gib the box for his boots. “Put those back in here for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll check to see how we should take care of them.”
“I already know.”
He probably did. If something interested him, he soaked up information like a data file. Alexis slid the box containing the boots under the table.
“Time for bed, Gib. We have to get up early for church.”
Gib didn’t make a move.
“What?”
“My ice-cream?”
Should she let him have more sweets? Any change in Gib’s nighttime routine would probably result in a sleepless night for both of them.
“Get ready for bed and then you can have your ice-cream.”
He came down wearing his wet pajamas from last night.
“Try again, Gib. Put those in your hamper and put on clean jammies.”
“Oh, man! Do I have to?”
“Yes. Those smell pretty bad.”
Gib came back down with a different set, slightly too small and smelling of mothballs. Where had he found these? Not from his dresser. He probably pilfered them out from the box in the attic earmarked for a future garage sale.
Better he smells like mothballs than urine.
“Ice cream’s on the table, Your Majesty.” He offered her a rare smile as he swallowed his nighttime meds. Hopefully, he’d be asleep in half an hour.
“You have a good time tonight?”
“Yes. Ethan’s coming to hear me sing in the Christmas program at church tomorrow.”
“He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“He said he was going to surprise you.”
“Ethan Jacobs is free to go to church wherever he wants.”
“He says I’ve got a good voice.”
“You do. Only, you don’t like to practice very much, do you?”
“Practice is boring.” Gib scraped the last of his ice-cream from the bowl, and headed upstairs. While he brushed his teeth, Alexis did a quick scoop of Gib’s room, looking for wanton clothing he might have taken from his dresser and stashed under his bed. They read from his devotional book and prayed together, her favorite time of the night. Then Gib turned on his CD player set for auto shut off, and climbed into bed.
When finally able to think of something other than Gib’s needs, Alexis mulled over the dinner date with Ethan, if it could be called a date. She enjoyed the evening. So nice to taste the finer things in life again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had lobster, let alone anything out of the sea. What she ate, as well as the rest of her life, was dictated by the idiosyncrasies of a brain shrouded in misfiring synapses.
She worried Ethan might have been put off by her surly six-year old attitude, still unable to shake her mistrust. What infuriated her more: not knowing the true motivation behind his kindness or the fact she was hopelessly infatuated with him?
When they’d made snow angels together, she had sensed his desire for her matched her interest in him. How easy it would have been to put aside professionalism and surrender to the flesh. Instinct warned her that involvement with a celeb would only end in heartbreak. He’d be back on the road and out of her life quicker than a chorus of Auld Lang Syne.
Just like her summer fling with the very married Daredevil Pete. She’d spontaneously thrown common sense aside to go with him on an Alaskan cruise. Afterward, they had parted ways. He then continued his stunts while she began her freshman year at California Christian University. The day Alexis discovered she carried his child, Daredevil Pete fell to his death trying to tightrope over Niagara Falls.
The night before her scheduled abortion, she’d turned to her Bible, finding verse after verse convincing her of God’s plan for the unborn. She cancelled her appointment. The next day, she miscarried.
She bore her secret alone; not even Jasmine knew. Certainly she couldn’t tell her parents, especially not after they adopted Gib. Though God forgave her indiscretion, the memory still burned. She could not, would not fall prey to glamour again.
Besides, she’d been made Gib’s guardian in her parents’ will—seeming atonement. Yet, she’d messed up and now she’d lose Gib, too. She’d witnessed some of the difficulties her parents had experienced during her infrequent visits home, and she’d expected to run into turbulence. What she had not expected were the utter impossibilities within a societal structure unable to effectively treat most behavioral disorders.
Alexis supposed at first, as the counselor suggested, that she’d harbored a secret desire to rid herself of her obligation toward Gib. Not now. Ironically, as He had done with her pregnancy, now that she’d learned to love Gib, God was going to take him away from her. He’d lost the only parents he ever knew, and now the system wanted to take everything familiar away from him. Why punish Gib for her failure?
Alexis fell to her knees as A Christmas Prayer echoed down the stairs from Gib’s room. “Oh, God. I want to believe you have a plan in all this. If I can’t have Gib, please make sure he finds a home where he’ll be loved and not be sent into an institution.”
The phone interrupted her tearful pleading. Maybe she should let it go to voicemail. She glanced at the incoming number. Ethan Jacobs.
* * *
“Hello.”
Almost friendly. “Um … have a minute? I know it’s late.”
“A minute.”
Alexis could be so cold toward him … yet … “Did Gib tell
you I’d be at your church tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t mind, do you?”
“Why should I?”
“You seemed a little annoyed with me tonight. Again, I apologize if I stepped on your toes where Gib’s concerned.”
“Like you said, you meant no harm.”
“I’m forgiven, then?”
“Nothing to forgive.”
“Then would you allow me to take you out after church tomorrow?
“What about Gib?”
“I know this sounds presumptuous. But, I already asked your friend Jasmine if she’d stay with Gib for the afternoon.”
“Guess I have no excuse. Okay.”
“I hoped you’d say something like you’d be happy to go out with me.”
“Sorry … didn’t read the script. Of course, I’d be pleased. Will this be another concert in the limo?”
To him, her insults tasted like honey. How could he not be attracted to her? Yet, come to think of it, after rehab, before he came back to Jasper Falls, he had very few waking moments without a guitar in his hand, either practicing songs, standing in a recording studio or on stage. He even brought his guitar to his meetings with his attorney. Until he became a Christian, he only dated during his binges, the circumstances and the women he couldn’t recall. He didn’t know what a date might be like as a sober Christian with a Christian woman. “No concert, I promise.”
“So where to tomorrow?”
“Do you have a snow suit?”
“Sort of. A jacket and water-proof pants I use to shovel the driveway.”
“I hear snow tubing is a blast. I’ve never been. Up to it?”
“Sounds like fun. Sure.”
“Okay.” He wished he were with her now. Alexis was not a woman who could be rushed. If only he had more time.
Chapter Seven
One hundred and forty heads turned when Ethan Jacobs entered the church with Kyle and Tom leading the way, Ethan in the middle, and two more cops-for-hire behind him. Why so much security in a church this small? Did they have to guard the bathroom door when he had a nature break?
Ethan slid into their pew and sat between Alexis and Gib.
Gib cranked his head every direction except forward. With a big smile, he scanned the congregation and pointed toward Ethan while shaking his head up and down.
“Gib, turn around and pay attention.”
“Yes, Alexis.” He played with the hymn books and scratched his head, then squirmed in his seat as the younger children performed their songs. The teens also had put together a couple of humorous skits. But Gib had opted to sing a solo rather than participate in the group activity. If Alexis had known ahead of time, she’d have encouraged him to take part. Unfortunately, leaders and teachers were quick to approach Gib without coming to her first. Too often, he had difficulty processing questions starting with, “Gib, would you like to …”
Gib fidgeted throughout each part of the program amidst Ethan’s perplexed scowls. Did he not understand autistic children were naturally squirrely? She supposed anyone not used to Gib’s antsy ways might think his behavior inappropriate for his age. Although, his clicking and sliding seemed more exaggerated than usual. She leaned over and whispered, “Are you nervous about singing today?”
Gib’s head drooped and he bit his lip. “A little.”
“You’ll do fine,” Ethan said. He put out his hand, and Gib shook it, a smile returning to his face.
Alexis glanced at the program. Two more carols before Gib’s solo. As he normally did, Gib sat forward during congregational singing to beat out the rhythm, albeit softly, on the pew ahead. Ethan stretched his hand as if to stop Gib, but Alexis shook her head as a warning. The small congregation had no issue with Gib’s sound effects.
Maybe instead of a guitar for Christmas, I should have bought him a set of drums.
Pastor Olney came to the pulpit. “We’re honored to have Ethan Jacobs with us this morning. When I asked him to sing, he said we would be treated with a much better performance from Gibson Jennings.”
Alexis prayed.
Gib walked up to the platform in his usual, what he called funky way: a mixed saunter, slide, and gallop. To no one’s surprise, he sang A Christmas Prayer, except for his boy’s soprano, with every note, pause, and reflection as if Ethan Jacobs had sung it himself. The congregation stood to express their appreciation.
Gib squished his lips to mimic a fish and took his seat.
As Pastor Olney came to the pulpit to lead the last carol, Ethan shook Gib’s hand and whispered in Alexis’s ear. “We’ll pick you up at your house. Can’t wait.” He left with his bodyguards in tow. While others looked confused, she supposed Ethan had grown accustomed to a lifestyle of late arrivals and early exits, the bane of fame.
Like a silly teenager pairs herself with her newest love interest, Alexis imagined being married to a celeb like Ethan Jacobs then quickly dismissed the idea. Life with Gib was complicated enough.
Chapter Eight
Alexis shook off the snow from her all-weather outer pants. “I must admit. This was a lot of fun.”
Especially tucked securely within Ethan’s strong arms with his long legs wrapped around hers. He leaned his head over her shoulders, his warm breath against the cold air thawing her heart.
“One more run?” he asked.
“Okay.”
As they picked up speed on the descent, the tube tilted and they spilled out, rolling like logs down the rest of the slope. At the bottom, he helped her stand.
Perhaps her eyes invited the kiss and he accepted; the warmth of his lips against hers both wonderful and frightening. Each kiss that followed was more dangerously enjoyable than the one before it, leaving no doubt that his desire matched hers.
Yet, he pulled away first. “Nice doesn’t describe it, does it? Is there a word?”
“You’re the song writer.”
“And you’re the reporter. Maybe we should try a few more kisses and see if we can come up with an accurate description.”
She stepped back enough to fall beyond his immediate grasp. “Or maybe we should make tracks for my place and hot chocolate? I don’t want to take advantage of Jasmine. She has a life. And Gib can be a handful. Plus, it’s getting time for Avatar. She’s had to watch it half a dozen times already this week.”
“I’ve seen similar behaviors from dementia patients when visiting nursing homes. What do they call it?”
“Perseveration? You go to nursing homes?”
“Max’s grandmother is a patient at one in White Plains. When we visit, the staff asks me to sing a few songs for the residents. The most frequent request is for Folsom Prison Blues.”
“You don’t sing like Johnny Cash.”
“Don’t think so?” He imitated the legend’s sultry, deep voice on the first two bars of Ring of Fire.
“Barring the nursing home gang, I think the fact you don’t sound like anyone else makes you more appealing, the markings of a true artist, in my opinion.”
“A compliment? From Alexis Jennings? My day is made.”
“More than the kiss?”
“Okay … a close second.”
“Opera is still my preferred genre. But, as far as Country goes, you’re my favorite.”
“Better to be at the top of a short list than in the middle of a long one. Okay. Let’s go. As for Jasmine, she’ll have three dozen roses at her house when she gets home.”
“Good call. She’d be insulted if you paid her; a little overkill on the flowers, though.”
* * *
Alexis unlocked the door, reset the alarm, and hollered into the kitchen as she climbed the steps. “Jasmine … I’m home. I’ll be right back. Ethan’s signing autographs for the masses assembled outside.�
�
Unlocking her bedroom door, she threw in her coat, purse, and car keys, then checked to make sure she’d relocked everything; the memory of Ethan’s kisses broke her concentration on the trivial. Now what? What did the kiss imply? Did he want a night of pleasure? No. She was done with giving herself away on a whim. The last time brought too much heartache. Though, the temptation did flit across her senses.
Sometimes reality stunk. Would she like those wonderful kisses to lead to a romantic relationship? Yes. How could she? With court only four days away, her world teetered on the edge of chaos, the worst possible time to indulge in something as wonderful as Ethan Jacobs’s kisses.
“So?” Jasmine asked.
“So?”
“Don’t give me that tone of denial, girl … you’re glowing … he kissed you.”
Alexis’s cheeks burned ten degrees beyond embarrassed.
“I told you he likes you.”
She shook her head to reinforce the lunacy of maintaining a relationship with Ethan. “Doesn’t matter if he does. I can’t get involved right now. Not with the benefit and court this week. My head’s spinning enough as it is. Any more speed and it’ll fly into next year.”
“If Ethan likes you, don’t you think he’d be willing to ride the crazy wave with you? If it’s meant to be—”
“It’s not. I promised God I wouldn’t let anything interfere with taking care of Gib. Not anything … not any one.”
“Ethan is not your usual bad-boy fling.”
“He’s still a distraction.”
“Girl, you need a distraction like him: sexy and available. Not to mention rich.”
“I don’t care about any of those things. I only care about Gib.”
Jasmine put her hands to her hips, a non-verbal tsk, swinging her head back and forth in rhythmic sync to her tirade. “Girl, listen to you getting all noble and self-righteous. God doesn’t need you to do the sacrificing. Do you think He expects you to throw away the rest of your life to satisfy a promise God never asked you to make in the first place? How will being miserable help Gib?”
A Christmas Prayer: An Autistic Child, a Father's Love, a Woman's Heart (Christmas Romance) Page 5
