The Nanny & Her Scrooge

by DeAnna Talcott

  Nicki twisted off the couch, and stood. She should congratulate him, yet Madison’s request hung heavily in the back of her mind. “I just want to go home. To my mom.”

  “I got my family back,” he said finally, sweeping her with an all-inclusive gaze. “I wanted it—but it’s not like I imagined. I never thought Sandra would just wash her hands of Maddy like that. As if the novelty of motherhood’s grown stale, like Maddy’s a burden. Like she’s…disposable.”

  Moving around the sofa, Nicki tried to make her tongue cooperate, to say the right things. “It’s more than…any of us expected,” she said. “So quickly. To have it happen like that.”

  He extended his arms. Nicki went into them, this time because she couldn’t bear for him to read the concern in her face. “I got my daughter back, and she’s staying here,” he repeated. “This time for good.”

  She hugged him, convinced he was a good man with good intentions. She tried to not think of how he made her feel, or the intimate things she knew about his family. The best she could do for him was to help resolve the tension Madison felt. She turned in his arms, her back against the broad expanse of his chest. As she stared at the fireplace, his chin rested on her head. Her imagination kicked into overdrive. It did feel as if he was nuzzling her hair.

  “I’m going to go break the news to Maddy that she can stay forever, that it’s all worked out and—”

  “No,” Nicki said quickly.

  She felt him pull back. “Why not?”

  She hesitated. “Jared, I know this is what you wanted.” Her fingers went to his arms that looped her middle. “I can feel it,” she said earnestly. “And I can practically feel your heart beating right through your shirt, but…don’t tell Madison yet. I think it might be more than she’s ready for.”

  His hands slipped to her elbows, and he was silent for a moment, then he said, “I detect something. Something you’re not telling me.”

  “She thinks she’s visiting, Jared. She came here thinking she was going back someday.”

  “She hasn’t said one word about Sandra. Sandra was never a mother to her. You’ve been more of a mother to her than…”

  Nicki couldn’t bear to hear him say it. Her head dropped and she winched her eyes tightly closed. “Jared, you can’t tell her. Not yet,” she whispered. “Sandra’s message startled me. The bottom line is, I get the impression Madison may never see her mother again. I know how that feels, to lose a parent.” She paused. “It touches me that you think I can take her place, and I’m happy to do so, because I’ve come to care about Maddy. I’ve come to feel like I’m a part of this family—even though I know I’m not. But…” Her sigh became a shudder that rattled through her and made her want to cling to him. “Leave the door open on all the relationships, Jared, if only for Madison’s sake.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nicki’s pleas deeply disturbed him. Keep the door open on all relationships, she’d reminded, for everyone’s best interests.

  Well, Jared Gillette was a man who hadn’t done that for a long time; he’d simply shut everyone out of his life when Sandra walked out. He’d been bitter, angrily burying himself in work and insulating himself against friends and family.

  He’d tried so hard to hang on to his marriage. He’d wanted Madison to grow up in a happy, stable environment. Although he hadn’t been happy with Sandra for a long time, he would have sacrificed his happiness for that of his child.

  In the end, his bitterness became directed against those who had inflicted no pain upon him. He’d been a tyrant at work, and he’d given the housekeeper nothing but stony silence. He’d lost contact with his friends.

  Then St. Nick had arrived, with a ho-ho-ho and the assurance that she could deliver a memorable Christmas.

  Not only was it memorable, but it had affected him. In a way he’d never thought possible.

  He found himself wanting to open up to her, but he couldn’t quite find the ways to do it, or the things to say.

  He wanted to say goofy things to her.

  Yesterday, looking across the breakfast table, he’d had the urge to tell her how well she fit into his life. Of course he tamped the impulse down, and crammed a dry biscuit in his mouth instead.

  He wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, and twine his fingers in her hair.

  Last week, in the sleigh, he couldn’t resist the one soft curl that had been trapped beneath the collar of her coat—and that one blasted lock of hair had virtually contributed to the total erosion of his male hormone system. He’d wound up thinking about how her hair would look splayed across a pillow. His pillow. On his bed. In his room. He thought about waking up next to her, her eyes all heavy with sleep, her hair tousled.

  Dammit, what was happening to him!

  He refused to be vulnerable, not to anyone, certainly not to a woman. Especially not to a young, attractive woman who had been hired to work in his home. He refused to acknowledge that his feelings were growing, and he refused to expose the inner core of himself.

  Sex was sex.

  But not with a woman like Dominque Holliday, his conscience chastised.

  This was more than that. A feeling so pervasive it filled his being, his every thought. It made his fingers ache for her, it made the blue-black screen behind his eyelids project her visage uninvited. It transcended every trust issue man had ever invented and thrown up as an objection.

  This was intimacy—and it was humbling to recognize that he, Jared Gillette, could be susceptible to it.

  He had spent so long protecting himself against others, that he didn’t know how to extend the olive branch. He didn’t know how to fumble through the niceties and cement a friendship that could be firm and secure—without any greater expectations, without commitment or involvement.

  And…yet…Nicki was different. If there was anyone who could accept him, his feelings, and his life, it would be Nicki. The woman was compassionate to a fault.

  It wasn’t just his life she fit in, he thought miserably. It was his heart.

  It was up to Nicki to come up with a miracle. On Santa’s behalf, she’d promised, and now she had to deliver. She stared at the motley collection of snapshots she’d collected. Jared had left them lying all over the house, and she’d started picking them up, hoping they’d give her inspiration.

  Madison at six months, in a stroller. At eight months, her first tooth. At eleven months, her first steps. Madison in her plastic play pool. Madison gnawing on an apple. In nearly every photo was a strange-looking yellow bunny. She remembered it from when she’d cleaned out the room. It was so tattered and soiled that she’d tossed it in the trash, but Jared had plucked it out, asking where she’d found it. He’d taken it to his room, to put with a few of his treasured mementos of Maddy’s babyhood.

  She shook her head, wondering. How was she going to convince this child that she was dearly loved and wanted? How was she going to make her want to stay, especially with a father who could be so forbidding, so distant?

  Fanning the photos in her hand like a deck of cards, she put them in what she guessed was chronological order. Then it struck her, how her mother had done the same thing, recorded all the milestones, framing them for the world to see. It sometimes had embarrassed Nicki, how her mother would display the photos, explaining that this was Nicki in middle school, in her first pair of heels, at her first job, on her first date—but it had also made her feel loved.

  The inspiration she had been looking for struck. She marched to Jared’s office, ignoring his request to have an hour alone, and knocked on the door.

  “What?” he snapped.

  Nicki poked her head around the door. “It’s really important. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you. I know you’re trying to get at that correspondence.”

  He waited, tapping his fingers across the envelopes.

  “Could I take these snapshots and have duplicates made? Or make color copies?”

  He frowned at her, incomprehensibly. “And this is a life-o
r-death matter of importance?”

  “Sort of.”

  He waved her off. “Oh, fine, I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” He stopped, suddenly, and looked at her. “Wait a minute. You aren’t going to cut them up or anything, are you? Not another cut-and-paste project for Madison?”

  “Oh, no. Of course not.”

  Relieved, he waved her out of the room. “Go on. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Oh, and one more thing…” she went on. He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing. “You know that funny-looking yellow bunny? The one you pulled out of the trash? Could I have it back?”

  Jared gazed at her as if he was convinced she’d lost her mind.

  “I was going to do something special with it for Maddy. For Christmas. No scissors, no glue, no damage. You’ll get it back.”

  “In my room. There’s a white cardboard banker’s box, and Maddy’s name is on it. It’s in there.”

  “Thank you.” Nicki started to shut the door.

  “Oh, and, Nicki…” he said, stopping her this time, “what did you do to your hair?”

  He didn’t take his eyes off his work, but Nicki’s hand self-consciously smoothed the curl behind her ear, surprised he’d even noticed. “Oh, I…highlighted it. A little.”

  “Nice. Very nice,” he said, scanning another letter. “I like it that way. If you’d have asked, I’d have seen to it that you used the salon down at Gillette’s. Next time, remind me. We can pamper you, you know. I think you deserve it every once in a while.”

  Working nights, long after Jared and Madison had gone to bed, Nicki started putting the memory book together. It had started out as a gift, but it had become a labor of love. There was a noticeable gap in pictures after Maddy had left the house. Jared was in none of them. Only Maddy, in a professional setting, at Christmas, or with the Easter bunny, or at a theme park, where she was pulled up against the knee of some cartoon character. No mom, no friends. Just Maddy. Alone.

  Well, she thought soberly, that was what she was trying to fix.

  She made intricate illustrations on every page, all the time thinking of Jared and Maddy. Her heart was so full while she worked, that she knew she was falling a little bit in love. She simply wanted to please them. For as long as it lasted, she wanted to savor her time with a guy who was hardworking and good, and a child who merely wanted to be loved.

  She got up extra early Christmas Eve morning, with one page left to finish—and she intended to make it spectacular.

  Until the shouting at the other end of the house interrupted her.

  Tossing down the red gel pen, Nicki pulled on a robe and hurried out into the corridor.

  Madison’s door was open and Jared, dressed for work, stood on the threshold, his hands, uncharacteristically, on his hips.

  “No,” she heard him say, “you’re not!”

  Madison’s plaintive wail echoed through the halls. Nicki walked faster.

  “What is it?” she intervened, tugging at Jared’s elbow.

  He whirled. “She thinks she’s going home. To Sandra,” he exploded. “Tonight!”

  Nicki gasped and ducked under his arm, going into the room. “Madison?” she asked. Strewn across the room were Madison’s clothes. An open suitcase lay on the bed, and a pile of books and toys and a few favorite pieces of clothing were smashed inside. “What are you doing, honey?”

  “I’m packing to go home,” Madison answered, poking a pair of socks in one corner, “so I’ll be ready.”

  “Honey, tonight’s Christmas Eve…”

  “So?”

  “Well, you can’t just leave us on Christmas Eve—”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing,” Jared blustered, following Nicki into the overturned room, “there’s no place to go.”

  “I’m going back to live with Mom.”

  “Your mom—”

  Nicki held up a hand, to silence him. “Maddy, your mom’s on her honeymoon. She isn’t expecting you, not right now.”

  Madison turned on her, glaring. “You didn’t tell her?” she accused.

  “Maddy, we don’t even know where she is.”

  Maddy stamped her foot, and a tear dribbled down her cheek. “You promised I could go home! You promised!”

  Realization, and a sick feeling washed over Nicki. Her shoulders slumped and her eyelids drifted closed. It wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t. She’d done everything right, she’d been so careful to not let anyone guess.

  “What is she talking about?” Jared demanded, turning on her.

  “Madison—”

  Maddy started sobbing. “I know,” she hiccuped. “I know Nicki pretended to be Santa Claus at the party!” Sobs racked her tiny frame. “I didn’t, not at first, not till after I told her. And then…I saw her bracelet…and I knew…and—”

  Nicki dropped to one knee, extending her arms. “Maddy, listen to me….” She reached out to comfort her, to explain, but Maddy would have none of it, and she swatted at her, backing away. Nicki’s arms fell heavily to her sides. “I didn’t promise you. Not really. I told you that you might get your wish, but sometimes things aren’t always what you wish for. Sometimes they’re like a miracle, and then they’re even better.”

  Huge, fat tears wet Maddy’s face, and she stood, staring at Nicki as if she’d been deceived. “You lied,” she said. “You lied about everything.” She hiccuped again, and wiped at her eyes with the back of her arm. “And you weren’t even Santa Claus!”

  Jared was furious. Nicki had never seen him so angry, and she could only guess at the depth of his wrath. His knuckles were white, and dark clouds gathered on his brow. Against the backdrop of his office, with hundreds of leather-bound books behind him, he was nothing less than formidable. “You want to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?” His voice was lethal, cutting the silence like a knife.

  Nicki’s breath rattled behind her breastbone. She hurt all over and the pain radiated outward, making her fingers tingle and her knees shake. She pulled herself to full height, to meet him as an equal. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t promise her anything. She told me she wanted to go home, and I tried to explain why that wasn’t possible. I couldn’t just dismiss her, Jared. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Tell her she has a home. With me,” he snapped.

  “You don’t understand!”

  “She’s my child, I sure as hell do think I understand!” he shouted at her.

  Nicki took a quick, calming breath. “I couldn’t tell you, not at first. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt your feelings. I knew that—”

  He uttered another short expletive, and smacked the back of his leather desk chair with the flat of his hand. “I guarantee you no one ever thinks twice about hurting my feelings. Spit it out.”

  Nicki hesitated. “She felt as if no one wanted her. Her mom had Howie. You had your business.”

  “What!” He stared at her incredulously.

  “She told me the day she came home, you went back to work. It didn’t matter that I told her why. She just wanted a daddy, Jared. Someone to love her. Someone to care.”

  “She knows that if she’s here, I want her.”

  “How? How is she supposed to know that?”

  “Look at everything I’ve done for her. She’s got everything any child could want—”

  “Well…maybe not that five-hundred-dollar teddy bear,” she said wryly, offering him a lopsided grin and intentionally trying to put some levity into the situation.

  He started to see the humor, then changed abruptly. “Do you think this is funny? Do you?” he demanded.

  Nicki approached the desk, resting both her palms on it. “Not at all. Not from the first. But you didn’t sit there and hear the things I heard, Jared,” she shot back, her blue eyes going steely. “Madison didn’t want presents. She said they didn’t matter, because her mother told her you only sent presents because you didn’t care. You want to know where they ended up? In the trash. Now. You tell me
. How was I supposed to deal with that?”

  His lips slightly parted, as if he couldn’t comprehend his ex-wife would do something that hurtful.

  Nicki tamped down her pride and told him the truth. “I don’t know a lot, Jared. But I do know how it feels to want a dad who loves you.”

  He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “What? I don’t say it enough?” he muttered brusquely.

  “I don’t know. But I know how it feels to lay awake at night and wonder what you did wrong, why your daddy doesn’t love you enough to call, to care whether you’re alive or well.”

  “That has nothing to do with this situation,” he muttered, avoiding her look.

  “Sandra hasn’t called once to talk to Madison. You’ve been busy at work.”

  “Nicki—” he warned.

  “I didn’t have any alternative,” she said, forging ahead. “I told her that she has a daddy who loves her very, very much, and who wants her with him,” she said softly. “I told her that because maybe you can’t do it.”

  His eyes flashed, and she knew she’d struck a nerve.

  “You know, though, sometimes when someone has their mind set to believe a certain thing…it just takes a little time, a little convincing. I don’t think anything I could have said would have made a difference.” Nicki intentionally let a second elapse. “Just like now.”

  She turned her back on him, and guessed he’d lambaste her for insubordination. When he didn’t, she reached for the door.

  “Nicki?”

  “Yes?” It took all her courage to turn back to face him. When she did, intuition told her something had softened his edges, something had struck its mark.

  “It’s just that…she said you promised her a miracle.”

  “I promised her the gift of a Christmas miracle,” she qualified. “The love between a father and his daughter. It’s something you both deserve, don’t you think?” She refused to let him back down from her even look. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go patch up Maddy’s belief of Santa Claus, and the ultimate joy and forgiveness of the Christmas season. I promised to give you a Christmas, and I intend to deliver.”