Second Chance Christmas

by Casey Dawes

  “They should, but . . . ” She pulled her hand from his and put them out of reach.

  He looked around. A younger Findlay had been nuts about Christmas, going overboard with decorations, cookies, and gifts, constantly singing carols only slightly off-key.

  Could he rekindle that now?

  She followed his gaze, but her face didn’t brighten.

  “My attorney said the judge wants us to try mediation one more time,” she said. “It means another trip back here. I’m going to leave Kelly Anne home when I come—in fact, not tell her at all what’s happening. Until I know for sure what’s going to happen, I’m afraid this”—she gestured to the decorations—“doesn’t have much meaning for me.”

  “You were into it at the market.” He pointed to the pile.

  “Yeah.” She smiled—a shadow of what he’d seen earlier. “I forgot why we were here. It felt like old times—when we were young and chasing down bargains in the mall.”

  “Happy times.”

  “Yeah.” Her eyelids drooped a little.

  He checked his watch.

  “We had an early flight,” he said. “How about we go back to the hotel, rest for a bit, and then head out for dinner? I made a reservation for 5:30 p.m. at Blueacre Seafood. That should get us back in time for Chris and Kelly Anne.”

  “Okay.” She put down her cup and stood, every movement seeming to take an extra effort.

  A nap was definitely in order.

  When they reached their floor in the hotel, he hesitated at her door. He wanted to feel her warm body next to his. Did she feel the same?

  “How long will it take to get there?” she asked, her back holding her door ajar while she clutched her packages in her arms.

  “It’s about a five-minute walk.”

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby at quarter after five then,” she said and walked into her room, the door slamming behind her.

  Disappointment filled his bones as he walked into his room, alone.

  • • •

  “Mommy!” Kelly Anne raced across the lobby floor with the same vigor she’d used to greet Chris.

  Findlay crouched and took the little girl, stuffed raccoon in tow, into her arms.

  They were beautiful together. Reese snapped a shot with his phone.

  Something to remember if things didn’t work out.

  Kelly Anne squirmed away.

  “Look Mommy,” she said. “This is Lucy. She’s a zoo ’bassdor.”

  Findlay looked quizzically at Chris.

  “Zoo ambassador animal,” he said with a smile that encompassed his entire face.

  Chris looked over his right shoulder and gestured to an auburn-haired woman standing awkwardly at the edge of carpet.

  She stepped forward, a tentative smile on her face.

  “Findlay? Reese. This is Cheryl. My fiancée.”

  Findlay stood abruptly.

  Reese moved closer and put a hand on her arm, while reaching out his to Cheryl.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said and looked pointedly at Findlay.

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” Cheryl said. “I shouldn’t have come. It’s too soon.”

  “Mommy!” Kelly Anne tugged at her mom’s dress. “Cheryl’s a nice lady. You always tell me to be polite. You too!”

  Reese hid a smile. A quick glance at Chris told him the man was similarly constrained. Their eyes connected and somehow an understanding began. They weren’t in competition. They had a joint interest—the little girl who was the center of attention.

  “Hello,” Findlay managed to get out. “Nice to meet you. Did you have a fun time with my daughter at the zoo?”

  Ouch. She wasn’t going to give an inch.

  “Yes. She’s a lot of fun. You’re a good mom.” The smile Cheryl offered was genuine, and Reese warmed to her. With a woman like that, someone who picked up on social clues, Chris might have a shot at communicating effectively with his ex.

  It was quite clear he wasn’t going to be able to do it by himself, and Findlay wasn’t going to be any help.

  She was too bitter.

  “Say good-bye to your dad,” Findlay prompted. “It’s time to get you to bed, and I’m sure you’ll need some time to settle down.”

  “A movie! I want to see a movie in the hotel. Like you promised.”

  “Sorry,” Cheryl said. “We probably overdid it a bit on the sugar and excitement.”

  “No problem,” Findlay said in a voice that indicated it was a very big problem.

  Kelly Anne wasn’t the only one who was going to take some time to settle down.

  “Bye, Daddy!” She gave her dad a noisy smooch and waved at Cheryl. “See you next time. Come on, Mommy.” She tugged Findlay to the elevator.

  “See you, Chris,” she said, and followed her daughter’s path.

  Reese shook hands with Cheryl and Chris, and followed her.

  Kelly Anne’s chatter took up the entire elevator ride, drowning out the ever-present holiday music.

  “See you tomorrow for breakfast?” she said after letting Kelly Anne into the room.

  “So this is it tonight? We could have a nightcap after she goes to sleep.”

  She gestured to the room. “Responsibilities. I can’t leave her alone.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll unlock the door on my side, and you can decide what you want. Otherwise I’ll see you about eight for breakfast?”

  “Okay.” She put her hand on the knob. “And thanks. For everything.”

  “No problem.” He put his hand on hers and pulled the door until it was barely open. “No leaving without a good-night kiss.” He lingered on her lips for a few seconds, savoring the taste of her, before pulling back. “This is worse than dropping you off at your parents’.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, touching his cheek, just like she had when they were teens.

  “M-o-o-m!” Kelly Anne’s plaintive voice slipped through the crack in the door.

  “Door’ll be open,” he said, slipping his key into his room lock.

  She shook her head.

  “I can always hope,” he said.

  Closing the door behind him, he hung his jacket on the back of the desk chair. Dinner had been nice, but Findlay had kept herself guarded. How the hell was he going to break through that shell?

  Solving the problem at work would be a good first step.

  He poured himself a scotch from the minibar, kicked off his shoes, and lay on the bed.

  The room was ordinary—like dozens of hotel rooms he’d taken. Artful but boring prints and accessories. The Hyatt was upscale, but the effect was the same—personality free.

  While he idly clicked through stations with the remote, he went over what he knew about each of the men they’d identified as potential conspirators with the bookkeeper. Which one of them had been Deborah’s lover? Had she ensnared him into a scheme, or the other way around?

  With no basis in reason, he knew the woman was involved. But who else?

  It had to be Wayne or Sam. Or was Deborah the woman his father had been seeing?

  But that still didn’t make sense. His father wasn’t involved with the business at the moment, although he threatened to take the reins back at every opportunity.

  A demand that was becoming stronger.

  What would he do when that happened?

  What did his mother know that he didn’t? No matter how he’d tackled her, she hadn’t given him a clue. Had his father been in league with Sam to squeeze Frank out any way possible? When the man had committed suicide, had his father’s guilt pushed him into ignoring his health?

  Too many questions without nearly enough answers.

  Reese checked his phone. Still no email from HR giving him the info he’d requested regarding noncontinuous employment.

  A soft knock on his partially open door.

  His heart rate increased, but he forced himself to calmness. Checking the mirror as he moved across the room, he realized he’d been only mildly
successful.

  The TV droned in the other room. He clicked off the volume on his.

  “Come in,” he said.

  “For a little while. I’m pent up with more energy than Kelly Anne. What a day.”

  “Wine?”

  “Love some.”

  He gestured to the armchair and ottoman in the room, trying to ignore the massive presence of his king-sized bed. His shirt cooled against his heating skin.

  He handed her the glass, picked up his scotch, and perched on the edge of the bed opposite her.

  Why was it hotels put only one chair in with their rooms? Especially ones with large beds. Did they really think everyone had sex on their mind?

  It was definitely on his, but nothing would come of it tonight.

  “Kelly Anne asleep?” he asked.

  “Yeah. She didn’t last long.”

  Silence circled the room.

  “I was planning on getting tickets to the Nutcracker,” he said. “Think Kelly Anne would last through that?”

  “I don’t know.” Findlay rubbed her forehead. Her eyes were tired.

  “Well, let’s give it a try. I’ll get tickets for Friday. We can go to MacKenzie Pizza first—it’s kid-friendly, and what kid doesn’t like pizza?”

  “You don’t have to do all this, Reese. We may have to leave abruptly if Kelly Anne gets tired. And, I don’t know if I . . . if we . . . if there will ever be anything more than this.” Her gaze lifted to him. “I tried it with Chris and look how that turned out.”

  “Maybe he was the wrong person.”

  “Ya think?” A smile took the sting from the words.

  “I don’t mean it like that.” How to explain? He stood and refilled his scotch. “Want any more?”

  “No thanks. I’m good.”

  Once he resettled himself on the bed, he took a small sip.

  “Sometimes when two people get together they are a perfect fit.” Like he was with Findlay. He’d known that from the beginning. “Other times, it looks great on the surface, but it’s not right at all. Something about their personalities doesn’t mesh. It’s worse than that. It’s like grinding gears in a car.”

  Her gaze was steady but wary.

  “The woman I dated for a while in college—we were like that. Something in her required constant reassurance. I tried to provide it, but I’m not wired that way. Your fault.” He grinned at her.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “You keep moving forward,” he said. “No matter what happens, you regroup and do the next thing that needs doing. You went to college. You found a job. I’m sure you put your best into both. Your marriage, too.”

  “But we didn’t make it.”

  “Not everyone does. But you picked up and started a new life in Missoula.”

  “Do you really think that?”

  “Of course I do.” He set his drink on the nightstand and reached out his hands to her.

  She put down her glass and, after a moment, she placed her palms on his.

  “The point is,” he said. “I couldn’t give this woman what she needed. We fought about it a lot. She wasn’t wrong for wanting it. I wasn’t a failure because I couldn’t give it to her.”

  “But Chris wanted to control me—how is that just a personality conflict?” Findlay’s muscles tightened.

  He turned her hand over and traced his finger on the surface. She had small hands, with short-cut fingernails. In high school she painted them bizarre colors that didn’t match. At least in the beginning. Once he’d done what his father said, they’d been barren of hue.

  He’d been such a heel.

  “I think you might be a little hard on him.”

  “But . . . ” She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on.

  “Hear me out.”

  Her hand relaxed only a little.

  “From what I saw, he’s trying. I suspect things don’t always come out the way he intended.”

  “You don’t know a thing about it,” she said.

  “My roommate was like him. Out of the blue, he’d come out with some pronouncement about how I was living my life. Nothing subtle about it. Not even a ‘should.’ Do this. Don’t do that. We used to have the biggest fights.”

  “Sounds awful.”

  “It was. Took close to a year before we got it sorted out.”

  “But that was totally different.” She succeeded in pulling away this time.

  “It wasn’t. Chris seemed fine today. Awkward, but fine. And Kelly Anne was happy when she got back. I don’t think he did anything to her while he had her.”

  “That’s because she was there. He never does anything in front of other people.”

  Reese picked up his glass and sloshed the ice around the amber liquid.

  “People can change. Especially if they find the right one to be with. I’m not talking about soul mates. Just people who fit together well.”

  He was totally messing this up. Her eyes were growing colder by the moment.

  “Whatever,” she said. “It’s all over. My main concern is for my daughter. I don’t want Chris doing to her what he did to me.” She stood. “I need to go. Thanks for everything, Reese.”

  It was all wrong.

  He didn’t move from the bed as she left the room, closing and locking the adjoining door behind her.

  He’d accomplished nothing.

  Worse. He’d pitted her against him.

  • • •

  Findlay was relieved to get away from Reese when he dropped them off at her house. Every moment of the flight home had been painful. Kelly Anne had fallen asleep, and she’d pretended to read the latest C.J. Box suspense.

  Not a word on the pages made sense.

  The weekend had started off so well. The items she’d picked up at the market were safely stowed in her carry-on bag, and she’d enjoyed her time with Reese . . . at first.

  But his viewpoint about Chris was dead wrong.

  She couldn’t trust men at all. When push came to shove, they stood together. It was all the woman’s fault. But no matter what he said, Chris had made her give up pieces of herself.

  Their good-bye had been brief. Reese had carried a sleeping Kelly Anne to her room, but when her mother asked him to stay for coffee, he’d glanced at Findlay and refused.

  Now, she was finally alone.

  She was miserable.

  “What’s up, honey?” Her mother’s unerring ESP where Findlay was concerned never failed.

  “Coming home to Missoula was a bad idea.”

  “Oh?”

  “It wasn’t how I imagined it would be. I thought it would be a fresh start. Instead, I’m in trouble at work, and Reese . . . well, he’s being a guy.”

  “That’s what he is, dear.”

  She didn’t return her mother’s smile.

  “So, they still think it’s you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you doing about it?”

  “I should just leave.”

  “No. That you should not do.” Her mother moved restlessly around the room, nudging knickknacks a quarter of an inch here, a half inch there.

  “Dad thought it was the best way to handle it.”

  “Your dad was wrong.” Mom stopped her pacing, flipped around and pointed at her. “Don’t ever say anything like that again.”

  “You weren’t there. You don’t know how bad it got.” Findlay’s shoulder muscles bunched.

  “I wasn’t working there anymore, but I may as well have been. Your dad told me stuff, but Sally let me know even more. She never thought your father was the culprit.”

  Probably because Sally was involved somehow.

  “She sure didn’t do anything about it,” Findlay said.

  “She did what she could.” Mom sat on the edge of the armchair seat and leaned forward. “I don’t think Brian was sure either, but Sam put pressure on him to do something so they’d stop bleeding money. Brian took a position, and he was the type of man who couldn’t reverse c
ourse once it was set.”

  “How come you never told me this before?”

  Her mother gazed around the room, but her eyes were unfocused. “You put such great stock in your father. He could do no wrong in your eyes. From the moment you were born, you were Daddy’s little girl. And when he died . . . ” She splayed her hands. “You were devastated. How could I tell you I believed he took the wrong path? He should have stayed on earth and fought. I would have been right beside him. And if he lost, then, well, we would have started over. At least he’d have stood for something.” The words were bitter.

  “I didn’t realize you were so angry with him.”

  “Not angry. Disappointed.”

  The image her mother painted wasn’t pretty. Findlay had always considered her dad strong and invincible, even when her girlfriends discovered their parents weren’t perfect. He was her hero and could do no wrong.

  Truth was he was a human being just like everyone else.

  Except, he was her dad. “Tea?” she asked her mother.

  “Sounds good.”

  Silently they went through the ritual.

  “She’s dead,” Findlay announced when she was halfway through her cup.

  “Who?” her mother asked, her brows wrinkled.

  “The bookkeeper.”

  “Oh. I guess now we’ll never know if she was involved at all. When did she die?” Her mother left her perch and began to pace again. “Your dad thought more people were involved than Deborah. He couldn’t figure out who, though.”

  “Right after she moved to Arizona with her boyfriend. A few years after . . . ” Findlay waved her arm. For some reason she couldn’t say the words about her father’s suicide aloud.

  “So is it someone different causing the problems now?”

  “Reese thinks the boyfriend might have come back. Did Dad give you any hints about who it might have been? His journals said this man was someone he’d never expected to date a woman like the bookkeeper.”

  “We didn’t talk about work. Especially after all the trouble started.”

  Straightening her spine, Findlay made a decision. She was not going to be like her father. She wasn’t a quitter. Now was the time to forge ahead.

  Chapter 18

  The gray Missoula skies added to Findlay’s already low Monday morning enthusiasm. She’d left things badly with Reese, but she couldn’t trust him if he was taking Chris’s side.