A Christmas Visitor

by Thomas Kinkade

  Greg pulled into a parking space near the restaurant. “I hope so,” he said, sounding serious.

  Was Greg actually jealous? Miranda pondered this idea as they got out of the car and walked to the restaurant. Did he really care that much about her? If that was the case, she hadn’t done much to relieve his insecurities. She promised herself that she would try to put aside the tense conversation in the car and be more attentive during dinner.

  “So, how’s Lily? What’s she up to these days?” Miranda asked as soon as they sat down. Lily was Greg’s seven-year-old daughter from his now-defunct marriage.

  “She’s started piano lessons. She plays her lessons for me over the phone,” he said with a laugh. “You cannot imagine how many times I have listened to, ‘The Eensy Weensy Spider.’ And acted thrilled about it.”

  Miranda laughed. She genuinely loved hearing about Lily. Greg adored his daughter and was a wonderful father, and that had touched her from the start.

  Greg took out his latest photos of Lily, and the conversation drifted from his daughter to his latest project and complicated problem. But many of their conversations drifted that way, sooner or later.

  Miranda tried to stay focused, but it was a struggle. She just didn’t ‘get’ engineering. Perhaps Greg felt the same when she talked about acting or jewelry designs? Sometimes, she did feel he was bored by such conversations, but tried hard not to show it.

  Greg was very grounded, a “just the facts” type, while she was more flighty and creative. Everyone said that opposites attract and complement each other, but could she really be close with someone who was so different from her?

  You have to be open-minded and flexible, she reminded herself as Greg began to talk about his latest project. After all, she was old enough to know that no man was going to be perfect. She just had to fall in love. Was that so hard?

  “…So, I had this idea of reinforcing the foundation by placing a grid of steel H-beams underneath”—Greg was drawing a geometric formation on the napkin—“to support the additional loading from the water…”

  Miranda watched Greg sketch out the situation on a paper napkin, all the while studying him. He was very good-looking. He worked out in a gym several times a week and was an avid long-distance runner. Miranda had cheered him across the finish line at the last Boston Marathon.

  “The long course suits me. I’m the slow and steady type,” he had once told her. “Long-distance running is about focus and persistence and stamina. That’s more my style than a short, flashy sprint. Also, I like the pasta dinner the night before a big race,” he had joked.

  He had a runner’s physique, with lean, muscular legs and arms. Straight brown hair, blue eyes and an even-featured face. More than that, he was confident. The fact that he had singled her out at that party and kept calling felt to Miranda like a great compliment. He was the type who would never have trouble finding a date, and out of everyone, he had chosen her.

  More important, he was considerate, sweet, and tried hard to please her. Miranda knew that she trusted Greg. He was the kind of man you could build a life with, a good life. Maybe she wasn’t in love with him yet, but Miranda believed that in time she could fall in love with him. Maybe it wouldn’t be that head-over-heels feeling, but something deep and grounded. Something that would last.

  Adam’s image popped into her head—right in the middle of her favorable inventory of Greg’s qualities. Go away, she thought crossly. But her mind wouldn’t cooperate. She was sitting right across from Greg, trying to concentrate on him, and seeing Adam. She couldn’t help it. Miranda gave a silent sigh. She wondered what was wrong with her sometimes. An attraction to Adam was like purposely sabotaging herself, purposely avoiding a real relationship.

  Greg was the real deal.

  Adam was…a fantasy. A blank slate that she could fill in, any way her heart desired.

  Then why was she so drawn to him? It wasn’t good for her and it didn’t make any sense. Then again, that type of attraction rarely made sense. That was just the problem.

  “…So, enough about my H-beams. I see your eyes glazing over, Miranda.” Greg’s words broke into her rambling thoughts, and she felt herself flush. She had been zoning out on his conversation. But when she met his eyes, he was smiling at her. He reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

  “Any more news about your audition? You haven’t mentioned it.” His tone was casual, but she sensed his keen interest.

  “I won’t hear anything for at least a week, maybe more. One of the producers or someone is away, and they’re waiting for him to get back east before they make a final decision. I might even have to read again before it’s all over.”

  Greg didn’t say anything at first. Then he reached across the table and took her hand. “I guess I’m more interested in your feelings about the situation. If they offer you the part, will you take it?”

  Will you leave here? is what he meant. Will you leave me?

  Miranda wished he hadn’t framed it as such a black-and-white choice. But he was an engineer. That was the way his mind worked.

  “I really don’t know. I wish I did,” she added sincerely. “I haven’t figured it out yet. It’s not a huge role but it’s an important one. Playing Cordelia can get you noticed.”

  “And that’s what you still want?” He was asking the right questions, she realized. Questions that showed he cared about her.

  She took a sip from her water glass. “Sometimes, it seems foolish to keep chasing after that kind of success. Maybe I need to just put it all behind me. But it’s hard,” she admitted. “And I know that even if I get this role, it won’t necessarily lead to a big breakthrough. I might find myself on the same old treadmill again.”

  “Even so, I guess it’s the kind of opportunity that’s tough to pass up.”

  She could tell that he was trying to see it from her point of view, trying to be supportive even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

  “It is,” she told him. “And I have to admit, it feels good to know I’m in the running. The pay is good, there will be publicity, a couple of big-name actors in the cast, nice theaters.…After all the times I’ve been passed over, this time they’re really interested. This could be the one.”

  “I understand. It would be a validation for you. Something you’ve worked for but never quite achieved.”

  “Exactly.” She nodded, grateful that he understood. “But if I take it, there will be real consequences in my life. It would be the way it was when I lived in the city, always on the move. Back then, if I needed to go out of town, I didn’t even have to worry about a houseplant. Now it’s different. There’s my grandmother and the orchard and…there’s you…” She broke off, unable to continue.

  “A year is a long time, Miranda. I’ve thought about it, too. I don’t think I could manage a long-distance relationship with you far away all that time.”

  If she took the role, they would break up. She had guessed that. But still, it was hard to hear him say it.

  “I understand,” she said simply. “I do.”

  “I’m sure it’s confusing. I don’t mean to make it harder. I just thought you should know how I feel about it, that’s all.”

  She looked up at him. “I think it’s good that you’ve told me, Greg. I’m glad you’ve been honest.”

  “I do have feelings for you, Miranda. I think our relationship has a real future.…”

  “I do, too,” she said.

  He smiled softly at her, then leaned forward and kissed her, a sweet, tender kiss that told her more than his words could say.

  Greg drove her back home after dinner and walked her to the front door. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?” she asked.

  He smiled, seeming pleased at the invitation, then shook his head. “Some other time. I have an early meeting tomorrow.”

  “Sure, it’s getting late. Dinner was terrific. Thanks again.”

  “You’re very welcome. I was really looking for
ward to seeing you tonight. I missed you while I was away. I know it was only a few days, but I was thinking about you. A lot.”

  “I missed you, too,” she said. It was true. She had missed him. Until Adam appeared.

  Greg put his arms around her and gently kissed her cheek, then her lips. The kiss was full of longing. It might have been even more passionate, except that Miranda felt a little awkward because her boots made her a shade taller than he was. She made a mental note to wear lower shoes next time they went out.

  “Can I see you this weekend?” Greg stood close, his arms looped around her, waiting for her answer.

  “I think so. I’ll have to see how the jewelry-making goes. Krista needs everything before Christmas.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you.” He kissed her on the forehead and stepped back. “Good night now.”

  “Good night, Greg.” Miranda unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  She entered the house quietly, not wanting to wake Adam or her grandmother and heard a noise coming from the back parlor.

  She walked in, and Adam looked up at her from the couch. “I couldn’t sleep,” he explained. “Thought I would watch some television.”

  There wasn’t a TV in the cottage, she remembered, so he would have to watch in here. Was that really the problem— or was he waiting up for her? Miranda didn’t have the nerve to ask.

  “Find anything interesting?” she asked instead.

  “Not much. I thought something might trigger my memory. Maybe the mention of some different part of the country. Or a TV show. I’m sure I used to watch something. Besides all these commercials, I mean.”

  “Didn’t anything seem familiar?”

  “I did remember that I don’t like fast food.”

  Miranda laughed at him.

  “Channel surfing was fun,” he admitted.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. Typical male behavior,” she assured him.

  Adam laughed, his eyes sparkling, and she felt that connection again, that spark that she only felt with him. She considered sitting down beside him then decided it was better to stay on her feet.

  “How about you? Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes, I did. We had a great time. Greg’s a wonderful guy,” she said, a bit more forcefully than she intended.

  “How long have you been seeing him?” Adam asked.

  “Oh, a few months now. Greg travels a lot for business. So we don’t see each other as much as we’d like, I suppose.”

  Why had she said that? To give Adam the idea this was a serious commitment and he ought to leave her alone? She felt so transparent. She turned her back on him and pulled out a book from the bookcase, as if she had never seen it before.

  Adam shut off the television and put the remote on the coffee table. Miranda noticed a notebook on the table. His journal, the one he started the other night after his nightmare.

  “Have you been keeping up your journal?” she asked.

  “Yes, I have. It’s been helpful.” He picked up the book and stood to face her. “I’ve been thinking things over, Miranda, and I don’t think I should stay here any longer. You and your grandmother have been very kind. But I don’t like putting you out, disrupting your life.”

  “You’re not putting us out. We don’t mind having you here. It’s been…interesting,” she added. The truth was, he was a more-than-interesting interruption in an otherwise quiet and routine life.

  Adam was not convinced. “I know I am. I can see it. You’ve got a lot going on. You don’t need me here. I’m going to pursue some other options, like trying a shelter. It might not be so bad. Maybe someone can set me up with a job, and I can rent a room somewhere.”

  “You can’t go into a shelter. I won’t let you. And neither would my grandmother,” she added, a little embarrassed by the strength of her reaction.

  “I can’t stay here forever. Let’s be realistic.”

  “It’s only been two days. Have some patience.” Miranda tried to meet his gaze, but he kept looking away from her. “You can stay as long as you need. But it won’t be that long. I can almost guarantee it.”

  “I wish I felt the same way,” he said bleakly.

  Miranda felt her heart go out to him. Gently, she touched his arm. The slight contact was electric. His eyes locked on hers, and she felt something starting again between them, an attraction that couldn’t be denied. She quickly took her hand away and stepped back.

  “You have a life somewhere, people who miss you.” Her voice was low but firm. “Someone will come to find you. They’re looking for you right now.”

  She believed what she said, but she was also reminding herself of his situation, trying to rein in the feelings that were threatening to race out of control.

  Adam glanced at her and nodded, his face unreadable. “All right. Let’s see how it goes. There must be something more I can do, though. Go to the library, check the newspapers, check the Internet.” He pulled on his jacket, preparing to head back to the studio. “Maybe I’ll call that detective who works on missing person cases. Maybe he has some ideas for me.”

  “I can take you into town tomorrow. Anytime you like.”

  “All right. Good night, Miranda.” He walked past her, heading for the kitchen and the side door.

  “Good night,” she said quietly. She watched him go, feeling there was something more she should say—and not having the slightest idea of what it was. She shut off the lights in the parlor then headed up to her room.

  Of all the men who were perfectly suitable, why did she have to feel drawn to Adam? A man who could be married. With ten children. Who could be…anyone.

  There must be something wrong with her, Miranda decided. She wondered if she would see him in the morning. She wouldn’t really be surprised if he was gone. And if he was, she wasn’t sure if that would be a fortunate, or unfortunate, end to their story.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE GIRLS LIKED BACON. EVERY TIME MOLLY SERVED it, Matt reminded her that it wasn’t exactly from the nutritious-choice column. It was loaded with sodium, clogged your arteries, and had all kinds of unhealthy side effects. But they were teenagers and didn’t give a hoot about their arteries. All Molly knew was that the smell of bacon cooking on Sunday morning was enough to lure her pack of sleeping beauties out of bed in time for church. Once a week wouldn’t hurt them, she reasoned. All for a good cause.

  The scent was usually appetizing to her, too, though she rarely indulged in more than a bite. This morning, though, the sight of the sizzling, fatty strips on the hot pan sent her stomach churning. She made it to the bathroom just in time.

  She heard Matt coming down the stairs, then his sharp knock on the door. “Molly? Are you in there? Are you all right?”

  When she didn’t answer, he tried the door. He opened it to find her kneeling next to the toilet. “Oh, dear…” He made a move toward her and she waved him away.

  “Just…go. I’ll be all right in a minute…”

  Her body immediately contradicted her.

  Matt looked torn between his desire to help and her desire for privacy. Finally he retreated and quietly closed the door, leaving her to her misery.

  Molly lifted her head as the sharp bleat of the smoke alarm cut through the quiet house. She heard the girls pounding down the stairs, asking what was going on. She already knew what had set it off. The unmistakable smell of burning bacon filled the air, along with Matt’s shouts.

  “Lauren, get me the fire extinguisher. Amanda, hand me that salt…Hurry, girls! Jill, open all the windows and try to shut that thing off!”

  Brilliant doctor, but not much in the kitchen.

  Although Molly normally rushed in and handled any household calamity, she decided to let her husband take over for once. She waited until her wave of sickness was clearly past, then she washed her face and pulled herself together.

  In the kitchen, Matt and the girls were gathered around the table. Her chattering family suddenly stopped talking as they all tur
ned to look at her.

  “Good morning,” Molly said, trying to sound cheerful. “Sorry I burned the bacon. I’ll make it up to you. At least the fire department didn’t show up.”

  She sat next to Matt in her usual seat. A platter of something that was a sickly yellow—it might have been scrambled eggs—sat in the middle of the table. Molly immediately looked away, feeling her stomach start to churn again.

  “How are you doing, honey? Feel any better?” Matt patted her hand comfortingly. “I made you some tea and dry toast. Maybe that will settle your stomach.”

  “Are you sick, Mom?” Jill stared at her curiously, crunching down on a bite of toast. “If you’re sick, do we still have to go to church?”

  “I’m not sick and yes, you still have to go.” Molly looked down at her weak tea and stirred in a spoonful of sugar.

  “Geez, no offense but it sounded like you were barfing your brains out. Are you sure you aren’t sick?” Jill asked. “I absolutely do not want to catch that. It sounds pretty nasty.”

  “Don’t worry, honey. It’s not catching.” Matt shot Molly a glance. Molly looked back at him warily.

  She had been to the doctor on Wednesday. Her pregnancy was confirmed. They had already discussed telling the girls sometime this weekend, though Matt had left the how and when to her. She had missed a number of choice opportunities and here it was, Sunday morning.

  Molly sipped her tea again, feeling Matt’s steady gaze fixed on her.

  She set down her cup and looked at each of the girls. “The thing is, kids, we have something to tell you. I’m not sick. I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.”

  Jill rolled her eyes, seeming unimpressed. “We know what pregnant means, Mom.”

  Lauren’s mouth hung open in shock. She didn’t say a word, just stared across the table, as if her mother had grown two heads.

  Amanda was the only one smiling. “Wow. Really? That’s great!” Amanda sat back and looked over at her father. “I always wanted a lot of sisters and brothers.”

  “I know you did, honey. Looks like you’re finally getting your wish.”