We Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

by Brenda Novak

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but so far it’s working—providing the market holds. A man named Ed Bly helped me in the early days with short-term loans for the remodeling and other stuff. I wouldn’t have done so well without him.”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  “At a lumberyard, believe it or not. We struck up a conversation, I told him what I was doing, he came and looked at a few of my projects, and we went from there.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “His wife forced him into retirement, and they’re living in Oregon. We call each other occasionally, enough to stay in touch. There will always be a bond there.” He got out of the sand rail. “You ready to eat?”

  Jaclyn glanced at her watch. It was nearly three. This morning she’d wondered what they were going to do until six o’clock when they picked up the kids, but the day had gone quickly. By the time they’d bought the sand rail, the food for their picnic and the clothes she’d needed—since she hadn’t brought anything appropriate—it was one o’clock. They’d been riding the sand ever since.

  “Yeah, I’m hungry.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They walked back to the truck, moved it to create some shade—since there wasn’t a tree for miles—and spread out the blanket they’d borrowed from the motel.

  “It’s not the most scenic picnic you’ll ever have,” Cole said, gazing around at the barren desert, while Jaclyn dug through their sack of food, “but you get used to the surroundings here, huh?”

  She was used to Feld. She’d been raised here and had liked it well enough when she was a girl. She hadn’t wanted to get away until after she’d married Terry and the town had become synonymous with the Wentworths and their power. She wondered how she would have liked Feld if she’d married someone else, like Cole.

  Then she remembered the rumors about him and Rochelle, and decided she probably wouldn’t have liked it any better.

  “It has sort of a stark beauty, don’t you think?” she asked, giving him a soda before getting comfortable on the blanket next to her own plate.

  Cole cocked an eyebrow at her. “No. It has a lot of stark memories, maybe.”

  She laughed. “Okay, you’ve got me there. But not all my memories are bad. Are yours?”

  He seemed to consider the question. “Not my memories of you.”

  Jaclyn felt a stab of surprise. She and Cole didn’t have many memories together. They’d never talked much, never gone out. “What do you remember about me?” she asked. “And don’t say anything about prom night. Lula Jenson should have been queen. I just won because I was Terry’s girl.”

  “Why were you Terry’s girl?” he asked. “I’ve never been able to figure that out. For a while I told myself it was the money, but you’re not like that.”

  Jaclyn chewed slowly so she’d have more time to think. She’d gone over those years in her mind again and again, wondering how she could have avoided her disastrous marriage. But even in retrospect, she couldn’t find an easy out. “It wasn’t the money so much as it was the promise of security, I guess. Terry’s…well, he’s bright. And he can be sensitive, when he’s not around his friends. I don’t know. We just got together so young, created so many ties, and I never questioned what was happening. When we graduated, marriage seemed like the next logical step. Everyone expected it, even our parents. Everyone thought we were lucky to have each other. I guess I just trusted that fate had dealt me the hand I was to hold.” She ate one of her chips. “Why were you with Rochelle?”

  He took a drink of his soda, then swiveled the can in the sand. “Because I couldn’t escape her. She followed me everywhere, called me night and day, came to the house. I swear, if Margaret turns out to be as dogged as she is, I’ll be a multimillionaire by this time next year.”

  Jaclyn remembered the lovesick Rochelle. The girl had been pretty aggressive, and completely smitten by Cole. Still, Jaclyn had always pictured Cole as someone who could take the heat. He was strong, determined. But then she remembered that Rochelle had something over him. “You married her because of the baby, didn’t you.”

  He scowled.

  “Most guys wouldn’t have married her, not if they didn’t love her, and not with the way she chased you. But you had a weakness most boys your age didn’t have—a strong sense of responsibility.”

  “I thought we were talking about pleasant memories,” he grumbled.

  “You haven’t mentioned any.”

  “Okay, here’s one. The first time I saw you, you were sitting in English class. I’d just enrolled, and someone in the office brought me into class. Everyone was busy doing some sort of writing assignment. Then you looked up.”

  “And?”

  “And you smiled,” he said.

  Jaclyn got the feeling this moment held some sort of significance for him, but she had a hard time believing it could. Every girl in the class had probably looked up and smiled. Cole had always been wickedly handsome and drawn more than his share of female attention. He still did. What was so special about a girl smiling at him in English class?

  “I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.”

  “You were the only one I thought I was going to marry.”

  Jaclyn nearly choked on her soda. “Are you kidding?”

  “No.”

  “But you said marriage isn’t for you.”

  “I was too young to know better at the time.”

  “Now I understand why you never liked Terry.”

  He laughed ruefully. “He never liked me, either.”

  “He was jealous of you,” Jaclyn said. “That was the reason he put you down so badly. You had none of the advantages he had—the name, the money, the history—but you had something else he couldn’t compete with. I still can’t name exactly what it is. Confidence or charisma, I suppose. Maybe both.”

  “If I have charisma, how come it’s never affected you?” he asked, emptying out the rest of his bag of chips.

  Was now a good time to admit that it had? Several times? “I found you attractive, but I was convinced you’d treat me as casually as you did all the other girls who threw themselves at your feet. I thought they were foolish for even trying to hold your attention. Trying to catch you was like trying to catch a moonbeam—impossible.”

  “And now?”

  Jaclyn took a long drink of her soda. And now? She was completely infatuated with him, but her opinion hadn’t changed. Neither had her commitment to avoid the heartache another unfaithful man would bring. “Now we work together,” she said simply.

  “I could always fire you,” he said.

  She gave him a pointed look. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”

  “You think I’d let you go at the office if we got together?”

  “You don’t want to get together,” she said. “You’re older and wiser now, and you know you’re not the marrying type, remember?”

  “God, is there no other type of together for you?”

  She finished her sandwich and wadded up the trash. “No.”

  COLE SAT IN HIS MOTEL room while Jaclyn showered, staring at the envelope he’d brought in from the truck, the one that contained a letter from Rochelle. He hadn’t spoken to his ex-wife for nearly ten years. He had no desire to hear from her now. But his curiosity, and the old guilt—for being unable to love her, for things between them ending so badly—was getting the best of him. He’d never wanted to hurt Rochelle. He’d just been a dumb kid when he’d gotten involved with her, a kid who already had too many problems.

  But if it was money she needed, he could probably help her…if he could step back into her life without starting everything all over again.

  He ran a hand through his hair, still wet from his shower, and sighed. What could it hurt to read her letter? She’d once been his wife. He owed her that much.

  Opening the envelope, he pulled out a single sheet of lined paper, covered in writing on both sides. Then he unfolded it, smoothe
d it out and, despite his sense of dread, began to read.

  Dear Cole,

  If you ever get this, I know it will come as quite a surprise. After everything we’ve been through, you may not even want to hear it. But I have to tell you I’m sorry, for me, if not for you. You were right. I did lie about the baby. There was never any pregnancy. I was so in love with you and so desperate not to lose you, that I made it up so you’d marry me. I didn’t think what I was doing was so bad. I told myself that I’d make you happy—that we’d make each other happy—and I planned to get pregnant right away and start a family. You would have made such a great father. The way you always looked after your brothers was truly amazing. But fate can be cruel, huh? When the fifth month passed and I wasn’t pregnant, I had to do something. I wasn’t gaining the usual weight or showing, which is why I faked the miscarriage. I was afraid you’d hate me if you found out. But you found out anyway. I remember when you confronted me. I lied again. Lies to cover lies to cover more lies. All because I loved you, Cole. Was I so hard to love in return? I guess I was. I don’t think you ever felt the same way about me. In any case, I thought you should finally hear the truth. I’m tired of kicking myself for what I’ve done. The only thing I want now is your forgiveness. Can you give me that much, Cole? Please? Or is it too late?

  Love always,

  Rochelle

  Cole tossed the letter on the bed and dropped his head in his hands to rub his temples. Finally she was admitting there had never been a baby. He’d suspected, of course. The doctor had no record of her visits, no pregnancy tests or anything. But she’d claimed she was afraid of doctors and simply hadn’t gone. Cole hadn’t known for sure what to believe, only that something wasn’t right. Then, when she miscarried, there’d been very little blood, no fetus, no real mourning, nothing—other than Rochelle’s desperate desire to get pregnant again. She begged him for another baby, but at that point he couldn’t trust her anymore. He was seeing his young wife in a whole new light, believed deep down she’d purposely trapped him, and was getting to where he could scarcely tolerate being in the same room with her. And every time he tried to tell her their marriage wasn’t working for him, she’d cry, then threaten to kill herself if he ever left her.

  He remembered the time she actually made good on her threats. He’d come home to find her sprawled on the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of aspirin lying next to her.

  God, Rochelle. What you did to yourself? What you did to both of us!

  Shaking his head to banish the memory, Cole picked up the envelope the letter had come in and stared at the return address. Maybe if he told her he forgave her, she’d be able to put the past behind her and make a fresh start. Maybe doing that much for her would finally erase the guilt he felt for those years, too.

  Picking up the telephone, he called Jaclyn’s room and told her he had to go out for an hour or so. Then he shoved the letter in his back pocket and left.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ROCHELLE WAS LIVING at her parents’ house just behind the florist shop. Cole recognized the address on the envelope, remembered coming here for Christmas and Thanksgiving when he and Rochelle were together and living in a trailer next to his father and brothers, but he cringed at the thought of facing his ex-in-laws again. He doubted they’d be very thrilled to see him. They’d never been close, probably because he was gone a lot when he was driving a truck and hadn’t even been close to his wife.

  He glanced around the yard as he approached the door, finding a few modest changes. Someone had attempted to overhaul the flower beds in the front. Someone had hung an American flag beside the door. And someone had painted the trim bright red, which wasn’t particularly becoming but was definitely noticeable.

  “Hello?” Mrs. Stewart answered his knock, speaking before she really saw him. When she recognized him her jaw dropped, and she paused as though she didn’t know what to say.

  “Is Rochelle living here?” he asked. He thought maybe Rochelle would be covering for her mother at the flower shop, since her mother was obviously home. But then he remembered that it was Sunday and the Stewarts closed the shop on Sunday.

  “Uh, yes, yes, she is.”

  “Can I speak with her?”

  “Um…just a minute. I’ll see.”

  The smell of cooked cabbage crept through the crack Mrs. Stewart left in the front door, making Cole wonder if he was interrupting their dinner. He almost had himself convinced that he shouldn’t have come and was about to leave, when Rochelle appeared. Wearing a pair of jeans, a button-up shirt and no shoes, she looked much the same as when he’d last seen her, right down to the black eyeliner above her blue eyes. Only her white-blond hair was different. It had been long when they were married. Now it was short and wispy.

  “It is you,” she said, licking her lips and looking nervous. “I…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  “Mary-Jean hasn’t called yet?”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind. Granny Fanny gave me your letter.”

  She stepped outside and closed the door, then wiped her palms on her pants. “I’m glad. I—I really wanted you to have it. I would have mailed it, but no one around here knew where to find you.”

  “I live in Reno now.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you doing there? Still driving a truck?”

  “No. I build homes.”

  “That sounds great. Do you like doing construction work?”

  Cole smiled to himself. Even Rochelle assumed he’d always work for a day wage. He didn’t bother to correct her. “Yeah. What about you? What are you doing now?”

  She shrugged. “The same, you know, helping out at the shop, living here. I’ll probably die in Feld,” she said on a short laugh.

  “You always liked it here.”

  “But I would have gone anywhere. With you,” she added softly.

  Cole cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable at the reminder of her devotion. Rochelle might have done some horrible things, but she’d only wanted him to love her. Why couldn’t he have loved her?

  “How’re your folks?”

  “Dad’s wanting to sell the shop and retire. Mom doesn’t want to give it up. I think we’ll keep the status quo for a few more years.”

  “And your sister?”

  “She married and moved to California. Can you imagine? My younger sister has a family, and I’m still stuck at home.”

  “You’re an adult. Move away, get a job, go to school, something. Make a change, if you want to.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to go.” She sighed. “And I wouldn’t want to go alone.”

  They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, then Rochelle shoved her hands in her pockets and dropped her gaze to the ground. “You ever remarry?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually.” She seemed so downcast, Cole reached out to squeeze her shoulder in a formal offer of comfort, if not a tender one, but when he touched her, she closed her eyes and stepped quickly away.

  “Don’t,” she said. “It…I still…all you’ve ever felt for me is pity. I hate that.”

  “I wish things could have been different.”

  Her smiled quivered, but she kept it bravely in place. “How are your brothers?”

  “Fine.” Cole told her a little about what each of his brothers was doing, glossing over his rift with Rick, then started hedging away. “I’d better get going,” he said. “I just wanted to stop by and tell you that I…that I don’t hold anything against you. I know what you did, but that was years ago. Forget it and move on and be happy, okay?”

  A tear trickled down her cheek, running her eyeliner and mascara. “You were always a kind man, Cole. I have to give you that. And you were generous. You never told anyone what I did, did you. You took the brunt of it all.”

  “I was leaving. I didn’t mind letting you paint me as the bad guy.�
� Cole smiled to lighten the moment, but she remained serious.

  “I shouldn’t have done it,” she said. “It was wrong, just like everything else I did to you. I wanted to punish you for rejecting me—but you tried. You did your best.” She shook her head. “God, I loved you. I will always love you.”

  Cole felt a tremendous sadness for what she’d suffered because of that love. “I’m sorry, Rochelle.”

  “Me, too,” she said, and disappeared inside the house.

  “YOU BOUGHT A SAND RAIL?” Alex asked, his voice filled with awe, as he and the other kids circled the trailer Cole had hitched to the Navigator so they could transport his new rail to Reno.

  “We needed to have something to do while we were waiting for you,” Cole said.

  “So you went to Sand Mountain? Without us?” Mackenzie whined.

  Jaclyn noticed Terry’s scowl darken. He and his parents were standing in the drive with them, seeing the kids off, and it was another one of those awkward moments in which she didn’t know quite how to behave—friendly, despite the hostility that crackled through the air? Indifferent? Offended that the Wentworth’s couldn’t be bigger about the divorce? Terry’s family used to be her family, too, but now they were enemies, despite her desire for peace.

  “We knew you wanted to spend time with your dad and Grandpa and Grandma Wentworth,” she said. “That’s why we brought you out here. But now we have to get going. Hop in the truck. You kids have school in the morning.”

  “Will you take me to Sand Mountain sometime?” Alex asked Cole.

  Cole glanced at Terry, then shrugged. “Maybe someday, if you want.”