The Nanny & Her Scrooge

by DeAnna Talcott

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nicki gently knocked on Maddy’s closed door. No answer. For a moment she panicked, then she heard Maddy sniffle. She knocked again, and this time opened the door and stuck her head around the corner. “Can I come in and talk to you?”

  Madison, sitting in the great big rocker, stared at the window and vehemently shook her head. With the back of her hand she rubbed at her red, wet eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Maddy. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

  For an answer, Maddy sniffed.

  “I guess you’ve got a lot to be mad at me for, huh?”

  Maddy’s blond head bobbed up and down.

  “The night of the party, the real Santa Claus helper got sick, so I said I’d fill in. I used to do that at your daddy’s store, before I came here. So I thought it would be okay.”

  Maddy picked at a bit of lace on her nightgown, listening. Her mouth was pursed as tight as a rosebud.

  “I intended to talk to your daddy about what you said, but then something happened.”

  Maddy stopped picking at the lace, cocking her head to hear better.

  “Your mom called to ask if you could stay a little longer. She thought maybe you’d be happier here.”

  It nearly broke Nicki’s heart to see Madison’s watery blue eyes drift closed, her lower lip wobble.

  “Well,” Nicki quickly went on, “your daddy was so excited to think you could stay longer, that I couldn’t very well hurt his feelings and tell him you wanted to go home. He really loves you a lot, Madison. Underneath, he has a great big heart, and he puts you first in his life. Really.”

  Madison, unseeing, looked out the window, her visage pitifully sad. “He never says it,” she said finally.

  “I know.” Nicki made the choice to take the blame. “He wanted to tell you how happy he was that you could stay longer, but I was the one who told him not to. I thought maybe, after what you told me, you weren’t ready to hear it yet. I guess it’s my fault, and I’m sorry. But I wanted you to know your daddy really, really loves you. And he wants you here. With him.”

  Madison snuffled, her thin shoulders quaking involuntarily. “Where is he?” she asked, hiccuping through the words.

  Nicki hesitated, knowing she had to carefully frame the explanation. “He had to go back to work,” she said softly, “because he had a meeting. But today is his last long day at the store because it’s Christmas Eve. You and I have the whole day to do something special, and plan a great night. Because he’ll be home early.”

  Maddy looked positively desolate. She stuffed her knees up into her nightgown, then wrapped her arms around her shins. “I don’t want to do anything,” she said finally as she leaned back against the rocker. Her eyes were flat, her voice expressionless. “Could you leave me alone? Please.”

  Nicki’s gaze strayed to the tumble of clothes and the half-packed suitcase on Maddy’s bed, and had the overwhelming feeling she’d failed. With Maddy. With Jared. With everything. “Maddy? No matter what happens, I just want you to know that I care about you. I’ve come to love you, and it hurts me to see you feel so bad.”

  Maddy didn’t answer, and Nicki backed up, intending to close the door quietly behind her.

  “Nicki?”

  She paused, clinging to the door handle. “Yes?”

  “I just want you to know…you’re the best friend I ever had. But, right now, I need to feel sad. That’s all.”

  All of Nicki’s carefully laid plans dissolved. She’d had every intention to make that particular Christmas Eve so special, so memorable, that they’d reminisce about it for years to come. Yes, well, the day would be unforgettable, all right. It would be remembered as the day their worlds turned upside down, and everyone was mad and angry and hurt with everyone else.

  Each of them, separately, were alone as they confronted their own fears and insecurities and regrets. Even five-year-old Madison, an innocent child who had been drawn into the maelstrom of adult emotions, adult needs, was suffering.

  Jared loved his child without question, but the tight rein he kept on his feelings, his emotions, kept everyone at arm’s length. He thought it was enough to provide for his child. He thought it was enough to provide for his employees, and his charities. He didn’t know what people wanted most from him was his heart. It was what Nicki wanted most…and it was something she knew she’d never have, because he couldn’t let it go. Jared could never match or return her feelings—and that was an agonizing realization.

  Inside, Nicki hurt so much she physically ached. The whole scenario had started out innocently enough. She thought she’d just borrow his family to help get her through one painful Christmas, but somehow along the way, she’d fallen for a love-starved little girl and her irascible father. She hadn’t just fallen for them, she thought miserably. She’d fallen in love with them.

  Jared Gillette, she seethed, how could you? How could you possibly make me fall in love with you, your stormy temper, and your cold, dark heart?

  Jared stomped into his nine o’clock meeting and slammed his briefcase on the table. The two men on either side and closest to him imperceptibly moved away. The eight further down hunkered down in their chairs, bracing their elbows and expecting the worst.

  He was fully prepared to lambaste them all—and he didn’t even know why.

  “Who the hell scheduled this meeting at nine o’clock on Christmas Eve day?” he snarled.

  Momentary dead silence greeted his question.

  “Um, you did, sir,” his vice president of marketing meekly offered.

  “I did?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It happened again. Without warning, Nicki’s face floated in front of him. The soft wispy dark curls around her face. The dimpled smile. The compelling impression she made as Gillette’s most notorious Santa Claus. In red velvet and white fur, with whiskers, and dainty white gloves.

  Jared cleared his throat. “Yes. Well…” A vision of Madison’s tear-stained face interrupted his thoughts. “I called this meeting to tell you—” he snagged a deep, calming breath, and stared down at his briefcase. It was filled with hundreds of pages of printouts on sales projections and detailed inventory.

  He frowned. Suddenly it all seemed inconsequential.

  “To tell you,” he repeated, his voice growing with conviction, “that there’s only one place you ought to be this Christmas Eve—and that’s home with your families. Nobody’s working late, nobody’s staying late. We’re closing up early, and I expect you to be out the door. No excuses. Do I make myself clear?”

  Ten jaws sagged, and ten heads wagged up and down.

  “That’s where I’m going to be,” he declared. “Home. With my family. You all have a—” his jaw visibly clenched, and he struggled to get the words out “—merry Christmas.”

  He snatched his briefcase off the table and strode out the door, leaving a stunned board of executives in his wake.

  When Jared returned home that afternoon—early—Madison was sitting on Nicki’s lap, with a puzzle spread out on the coffee table in front of them. Irene had gone to her sister’s, and the only noise in the kitchen was the sound of oyster stew simmering on the stove. A pan of fudge was on the countertop.

  He stood in the doorway, unobserved. Madison’s hair was pulled back with a huge red bow. She wore her black velvet pants and red sweater. Nicki looked strained, as if the day had taken a terrible toll on her.

  He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it was okay, that they’d get through it. But he couldn’t. He felt like a thief, like someone who had waltzed in and stolen all their dreams, all their hopes.

  “Hi,” he said tentatively, unbuttoning his overcoat. “I’m home.”

  They both looked up.

  No one made a move; they all gauged each other’s reaction. Even Jared. It was Madison who broke the silence.

  “Daddy, Nicki told me Mommy asked for me to stay longer.”

  “Actually, yes. She did. I suppose I should ha
ve told you.”

  Madison stared at him for a moment, then solemnly slipped off Nicki’s lap. She walked across the room, to stand in front of him. “I can do that,” she said, her stoic face creased with bravery. “I can do that, Daddy. If you want me.”

  He caught his breath, dropping to one knee, and putting himself at Maddy’s eye level. “Of course I want you. I’m glad you’re staying, Maddy.” He couldn’t believe the crushing sensation in his chest. How had he gotten here? How had he missed so much? What would it take to repair the damage? He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Your being here will make my Christmas special,” he went on. “It will be the best present of all.”

  Skepticism rolled through Maddy’s eyes, and she changed the subject. “We made fudge. For after dinner.”

  “I saw it,” he said. “You and St. Nick are always doing something creative. The two of you sure know how to make life interesting.” He stood, clumsily patting Madison on the shoulder, as his gaze flitted over to Nicki. “Maybe after dinner we could talk?”

  “Of course. If you’re hungry, I’ll start—”

  He waved the suggestion aside. “Later. Finish your puzzle. In fact—” he heaved a sigh, and slipped out of his coat, throwing it over the nearest chair “—I may join you with that puzzle thing. After I change, and start a fire. It’ll kind of—” he shot Nicki a significant glance “—take the chill off this room, don’t you think?”

  She offered him an indulgent smile, but her dimples didn’t pop out, and he recognized it as a hollow response, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  They went through the motions. Everyone was pleasant, and too polite. He suggested Nicki put a Christmas CD on the player and she obliged by choosing the most mellow, most comforting holiday songs that had ever been recorded. They ate their traditional oyster stew, and took too much time dabbing at their mouth with their Irish linen napkins, and smiling over the poinsettia centerpiece. They finished the holiday-themed puzzle—of a big yellow Labrador puppy wearing a Christmas stocking—and it was Maddy who put in the last piece, then announced that she was tired and ready to go to bed. Without her fudge.

  Jared awkwardly hugged her and said, “Thanks for spending Christmas Eve with me.” Then he whispered something in her ear before Nicki took her up to get her ready for bed.

  For fifteen minutes he stared at the multitude of presents under the tree, wondering how many Sandra had unceremoniously pitched over the years since they’d separated, and wondering what she’d told Madison. How could she have tormented her own child that way?

  When Nicki came back into the room, he was still brooding. She moved around the room, cleaning up.

  “Looks like you got it smoothed over with Maddy, huh?” he said finally.

  “I tried.” Nicki crumpled some paper napkins in her hand and bent to pick up two water glasses.

  “Do you know,” he said, “that I haven’t been home this early on a Christmas Eve in the last decade?” He hesitated. “It was you who brought me back, St. Nick.”

  She straightened, her look quizzical.

  “Don’t get hopeful on me,” he warned. “I can guarantee you’ll never bring me over the edge.” He patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Put those down and come and talk to me. Here. Sit by me when I tell you this. Like we’re friends.”

  Nicki paused, considering both his pose and his invitation. “We are friends, Jared. Whether we want to admit it or not, we put that employer-employee thing behind us a long time ago.” His gaze didn’t waver from hers, but his eyes were as flat as Maddy’s had been that morning. “I care about Madison,” she said. “I even care about you.”

  His teeth clenched, the muscle along his jaw going taut. “We need to talk,” was all he said, his voice low, husky. “Honestly.”

  Putting the snack plates and glasses aside, she came to him voluntarily, self-consciously sliding onto the leather sofa. His arm was across the back of the sofa, and she thought about how intimate it had seemed weeks ago when they’d been in the sleigh, his arm cradling her shoulders. A veil of intimacy had surrounded them then, now it was as if this crazy push-pull sensation forced an uncomfortable distance between them.

  He didn’t look at her, but fixed his gaze across the room on the dwindling embers of the fire. “Christmases were never easy for me,” he began. “Not in this house. My family projected the illusion of mistletoe and holly, but the bottom line was retail sales. My folks worked long hours, and they expected me to do the same. We had all the trappings, the house, the life…but things were never fun. After I got married, I realized Sandra had expected something else entirely, and she had a hard time coping with what we used to call the ‘Christmas push.”’

  Nicki could only imagine; she knew first-hand what kind of Christmas frenzy Gillette’s was capable of promoting. They made you want to buy, they made you want to celebrate, and indulge. Yet there was a lot of hard, behind-the-scenes work involved. “But it was your family’s business,” she reasoned. “It’s what you do. Sandra had to understand that.”

  He chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s not what Sandra intended to do,” he replied bitterly. “She was a user. She wanted, and she took. She saw Christmas as a grand way of capping off a year of free spending, leisurely vacations, and jet-setting.” He hesitated, and his forefinger rode the ribbed neck of her sweater before pensively, intimately, stroking the back of her neck. It was such a luxurious feeling, making Nicki want to stretch and purr like a cat. “Our marriage was miserable. It had gotten so we didn’t even fight anymore. I couldn’t get through to her, to make her understand I had responsibilities, particularly if I was going to support the lifestyle she craved.”

  His fingers brushed the ends of her hair, sending a fluttery, seductive feeling through Nicki. Her eyelids drooped, and she leaned imperceptibly closer to him. “How did you resolve it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “We didn’t. She took Maddy and left—two weeks before Christmas. I got a note, saying she was spending Christmas in California with her parents, and then she was filing for divorce.”

  Nicki glanced up at him, recognizing the pain.

  “I haven’t really cared for Christmas too much since,” he said, his voice void of all emotion. “It was nothing before she came into my life, and pretty much nothing after she walked out of it. Christmas was hard work and drudgery, my loss and livelihood, all rolled into one. I liked the concept and the idea of what Christmas should be, and the way other people regarded Christmas fascinated me. Yet it was as if I was on the outside looking in.”

  Her hand instinctively fluttered to his jaw. “I understand,” she said softly, tilting his face down to hers. “Any one of those reasons could make you become the bah-humbug sort of guy.”

  He smiled at her, sadly. “Maybe. But I wanted the most remarkable Christmas imaginable for Maddy. These past weeks, I’ve had moments when I just couldn’t bring myself to participate. The plum pudding would stick in my throat, and the hot chocolate would gag me.”

  “We have one day left,” she reminded him. “The most important day of all.” The silence stretched, and her fingertips, grazing the stubble along his jaw, slipped down to his chest, his heart. “I promise you, I’m going to make tomorrow your first Christmas—your first family Christmas—for the rest of your life.”

  “Nicki—” his hand slipped over to cover hers “—you have to understand, I’ve given up on this family stuff. I can’t lead you to believe otherwise. It’s just me and my daughter,” he said firmly. “Sandra was a user, and it’s because of her that I’ve sworn off all relationships. I mean it.” He took her hand and firmly put it back in her lap.

  Inside, Nicki winced. It was rejection, pure and simple.

  “This thing with Maddy,” he went on, “sending her out here, wanting her, not wanting her, is just another of Sandra’s orchestrations. From this time on, my main concern has to be Maddy and what’s best for her.”

  Nicki knew what was comi
ng, and had an overwhelming urge to shake him. “Jared, listen to yourself. You’re not even giving yourself a chance.”

  “No.” He adamantly shook his head. “It’s you I’m not giving the chance.”

  She stared at him, unable to believe it.

  “Especially after all you’ve done,” he said hoarsely. “For me, and for Maddy. For the way you made me feel. Inside. Where I didn’t think there was any emotion left.”

  “Jared—”

  “I told you I’d pay you well,” he said harshly. “And I meant it. But this family thing is really grating on me. After we’re sure Maddy’s settled, you need to move on with your life.”

  Everything inside Nicki went cold, lifeless. “Move on…or move out?”

  “I can’t give you what you want, Nicki. Or even what you deserve. We’re playing this cozy little family thing, but we aren’t a family—and we both know it’s never going to happen…because I won’t let it.”

  She hesitated. “Because you won’t—or you think you can’t?”

  “I know I can’t,” he said firmly. “I made up my mind to that a long time ago. Before you ever came on the scene.”

  “Maybe that’s the difference between us then,” she said, her voice torn with emotion. “When my dad walked out on us, I swore I was going to put people first, that when I had a family to love they were going to be the most important thing in my life. Families, even the make-believe family you claim this one is, can treat each other well. I believe that with all my heart, Jared. I’m only sorry you don’t.”

  “God knows, I’d love to believe you, Dominique,” he said, unwittingly using her given name as he pulled his arm away and rose from the sofa, “but it would take another miracle to convince me—and you may be good for one, but I doubt you’re good for two.”

  With that, he strode into his office and closed the door, effectively blocking her out of his life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nicki raged, throwing the memory book across the suite as hard as she could. It crashed against the opposite wall, the spine hitting with a thwack. Plastic-covered pages flew, scattering over the Persian carpet, the hardwood floor. The smiling faces in the photos seemed to mock her. It was all a lie. It had been from the beginning.