Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  When Penelope jumped up and grabbed the video camera, he gave her a grateful smile. No matter what ups and downs he and Eloise had, thanks to Penelope, he’d be able to relive this moment.

  “Eloise, can you show us what it is?” Penelope prompted.

  He helped his daughter rotate the canvas showing everyone the portrait he commissioned. He suspected connoisseurs would dismiss the painting as kitschy, but Eloise loved it and only her opinion counted. He’d given an artist a photo he’d taken during the fairy class performance. The artist replaced the studio background and Penelope’s arms with fantastic flowers and a woodland scene. Posed with arms and legs extended, in this painting Eloise flew unassisted.

  Smiling so hard her body shook with excitement, she wanted all her friends to come close for a look. The sound of sniffles being stifled made him glance at the other adults. The tears on Sue’s face didn’t surprise him, but the ones on Penelope’s did.

  • • •

  As parents arrived to pick up their children and Grandma Sue and Pappy prepared to take their leave, Penelope slid in beside Carson as he stood in the entryway. She noticed a few grays peeking through his dark hair along his temple. The overall effect was simply sexy. Today, he’d deftly handled the party and interacted with his daughter using warmth and humor that she hadn’t noticed before. Initially she’d found him attractive but stuffy. She suspected his rational, logical side still dominated, but he generously displayed his affection for Eloise, even indulging her creative side with the dress up clothes. She liked the idea of getting to know the man beneath the businesslike demeanor.

  But there was a problem — two, actually. As she lined up auditions, she expected to have a job by January and so far all involved lots of travel or moving across country. The second presented the tougher issue to overcome. Evidence abounded throughout the house. Carson still loved his deceased wife. Photos of her occupied every corner and hung prominently in the hall. Although several years had passed, he didn’t seem ready to move on. He was emotionally unavailable and in love with someone else. The same as pretty much every man she’d met.

  “You put together a great party. If you show me where to find a garbage bag, I’ll clean up while you and Eloise relax bit.”

  Turning his head, he met her gaze, touching his hand to her arm and making her tingle inside. “You don’t have to. You’ve already been generous with your time, Penelope.”

  “I insist on doing something. You worked hard to make this a special day for her. Besides, being an adult guest at a child’s party, well … I feel guilty for not doing more to help. Where are the garbage bags?”

  “Follow me to the kitchen. You don’t have to do this, but I appreciate your help.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  Reentering the formal living room turned playroom, she leaned in the doorway, watching Carson and Eloise sort through the presents she unwrapped earlier. With the Christmas tree tucked into the alcove of the bay window, fireplace mantle decorated with greenery and poinsettias, and father and daughter huddled over a new toy, they looked the image of holiday bliss. She pictured Christmas morning with Eloise running down the steps, delighted at the sight of sparkly presents under the tree. Her heart ached with a longing she never knew she harbored. She walked into the room, ready to say her goodbyes.

  “Miss Penny, will you play my new game with me and Daddy?”

  “That sounds lovely, but I hate to wear out my welcome. I don’t want to get in the way of whatever you and your dad are doing today.”

  “Have a seat.” Carson patted the carpet. “In fact, why don’t you stay for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, but it is Eloise’s favorite — grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”

  The corners of Penelope’s mouth lifted into a smile. “That sounds great. Thank you.” She gracefully sat down of the floor, folding her legs beside her. “I can whip up a salad if you’d like with the lettuces taking up space in your fridge. That way I won’t feel like a complete mooch.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Me too!” Eloise said. “I’m so excited you’re staying for dinner. You can be pink for the game, even though it’s my favorite color.” Eloise extended the pawn toward her.

  “That’s sweet, but it’s your birthday. You should be pink. I’ll be green.”

  After the second game, they moved to the kitchen. Eloise wanted to help stir the soup so they all made dinner together. Carson manned the stovetop while Penelope chopped vegetables and threw together vinaigrette with pantry ingredients. Eloise loved tearing up the lettuce and showing off her table setting skills.

  Handing her the salt she’d requested, Carson asked, “Have you cooked much with kids?”

  “Occasionally. I have a couple of nephews but they only want to help make cookies or frost cakes. Eloise is better helper. You’ve done a great job with her.”

  Blushing, he fanned imaginary stove fumes away from his face. “Thanks. After her mother died, she’s had to take on some extra responsibilities. It was rough for a while, but lately it’s been better.”

  Over the course of dinner, conversation flowed easily at first. Penelope admired both the birthday and Christmas decorations. Eloise promised to show her all her favorite ornaments after dinner.

  Still glowing over her tutu, Eloise peppered Penelope with questions. “Are you a for real ballerina?”

  She laughed. “I dance, but I’m not a ballerina. I performed several ballets while in high school, but I decided not to become a professional ballerina. I loved being on stage though. I performed with a modern dance company for a couple years, and that was a lot of fun, but I also practiced singing. One day I tried out for a musical and I got it. Guess who I was a few months ago?”

  “Were you Barbie?”

  “No, even better. I was Peter Pan. I spent lots of time with a fairy. Best of all, I got to fly.”

  “Wow.” She knew Eloise would be impressed. She didn’t expect the follow up. “Why did you stop? That must have been the best job ever.”

  Months after the accident, thinking of the broken harness still made her ribs ache. Rather than endure more painful questions, she decided on make believe. “One night Tinkerbell told me I should teach more little girls how to fly. Do you think that was a good idea?”

  “Yes! I love flying!”

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed Carson’s fork poised mid-air. His quizzical gaze bore into her. Fortunately, he didn’t ask any follow-up questions.

  • • •

  After they cleaned up dinner, Penelope held Carson back as Eloise bolted for the Christmas tree. “It must be hard finding time to create all this holiday magic as a single dad. When can I babysit for her so you can go out and run errands or whatnot?”

  The last time he left Eloise with a babysitter other than her Grandma and Pappy, she bit the babysitter and broke the skin. In two different places. Yet he needed time to shop for Christmas presents and knew Eloise would behave for her.

  He hesitated. She glowed when talking about performing. At some point, she’d go back to her career and Eloise would fall to shambles again after losing not just a friend, but a trusted adult. He’d be left picking up the pieces. Still, her generosity touched him. “Would Friday night work? The stores aren’t supposed to be crowded then.”

  “Great. What time should I come over?”

  “Would five-thirty be too early?”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  They walked into the living room where Eloise stood in front of the tree tapping her foot impatiently. “There you are.” She touched a small pink bear hanging at her shoulder height. “I got this one my first Christmas. I don’t remember getting it. This one is a pretty bird and this one used to be my mommy’s and this is the last one she ever gave me. Isn’t it the best one of all?”

  Penelo
pe touched the silver rocking horse reading the inscription Carson had read so many times to his daughter. I love you forever, Mommy.

  Chapter 4

  Music filled the air and lights twinkled as Carson walked around the mall. He pulled a short list out of his wallet. He’d already bought a present for his parents and had it shipped directly to their house. They would spend Christmas with his brother this year, but he regretted that they wouldn’t see how much his daughter had changed until they went on the annual family ski trip in January.

  He had bought a few things for Eloise already but now he had her Santa list, too. He also needed to buy gifts for the hard to please Pattersons. Between the small specialty toy stores, home decor shops and the big department store anchoring one corner of the mall, he hoped to finish all his shopping tonight. He disliked shopping in general, but he liked finding ways to bring a smile to his daughter’s face.

  Wandering in and out of stores, he covered most of his list. He had so many bags for Eloise he’d put one round in the car already, but the feeling that he was forgetting something — or someone — nagged at him. Checking his watch, he had plenty of time before the stores closed. He looped past the food court and theater as a movie let out. Couples spilled out. Everyone seemed to be holding hands and smiling, except him. As he walked past a store with frilly, shiny, and sparkly bangles and baubles, he decided to pop in to find a headband to go with the bright red holiday dress Eloise picked out in a catalog. Seeing the silver fairy necklace as soon as he entered, he realized who he left off his list.

  He thought about Penelope more than seemed appropriate. None of Eloise’s other teachers invaded his thoughts the way she had. He had physical needs and desires. But the frequency with which she appeared in his dreams left him restless and tired. Every morning, he ran through his personal litany of objections. She was too young. She had to be at least twelve years younger than him since she went to high school with John. She acted too much like a kid to be capable of disciplining one. She was going away. She would leave him and Eloise and break both their hearts. He couldn’t go through that again.

  He should put down the necklace before he reached the register, but it still hadn’t left his hands, even as he sorted through the headband display. The chain caught on one of the bands — what could have become a tangled mess actually turned out fortuitous. When he reached for the chain, he spotted a headband the perfect shade of red to match his daughter’s dress. As he gently unwound the chain from the headband’s bow, the fairy charm fell against his palm. The fairy’s legs crossed delicately about mid-calf. Penelope had folded her legs the same way at the kitchen table last week. He grinned as he paid for both items — and not because he had finished his shopping.

  Walking across the parking lot, the cool air slapped his face. Stars twinkled, a sight leaving him awed. Perhaps, he should stop moping and move on. Damn the consequences.

  • • •

  Penelope curled up on the couch with a cup of hot water and lemon and an unread book. She tried to read but couldn’t focus, so she pulled out her knitting. She had to keep busy or curiosity would drive her to look more into Carson’s life. If he came home to find her rummaging in his medicine cabinet or underwear drawer she’d be mortified. Her legs twitched. With considerable self talk, she managed to confine her impulse to explore the living room.

  Christmas cards lined the mantle and someone had hung two handmade stockings. She picked up a particularly pretty card and gently traced her fingers over the embossing. She received two cards in the mail this year — one from her insurance agent and the other from the director of the dance school. Her friends were more likely to tweet her holiday greetings or send an e-card. The homey cards beautified the mantel, but also served as a physical sign that someone cared.

  She turned toward the Christmas tree. While hardly monochromatic, it looked more unified than her parents’ tree with its haphazard collection of brightly colored ornaments. She loved the small white lights on Carson and Eloise’s tree. Most of the ornaments were silver, glass or white with a few exceptions. Clearly, Eloise added a few decorations this past week. She didn’t remember seeing the glitter and construction paper candy cane at the birthday party and a cut out snowflake was also new. The big paper ornaments added the right touch to keep the tree from appearing sterile. She suspected Eloise had brimmed with pride as she added her handicrafts.

  Turning to the couch with the intent of trying to sit still, something else caught her eye. Last week Catherine’s still eyes had watched over her family in the guise of a formal 5x7 framed photograph on a corner table. Now Penelope’s own face stared back. She remembered smiling for the camera after helping the girls put on their dress-up clothes at the party. She crouched at Eloise’s left, while another girl sat beside her and two other girls sat on the Eloise’s right. Every one of them wore feathers, rhinestones and a big happy smile.

  Penelope focused on her and Eloise. The girl’s dark hair contrasted with her blond hair, but both of them had a smattering of freckles on their nose. Since they’d first met over the summer, Penelope found herself drawn to the girl. She recognized a lot of her own dreamy nature in Eloise. Studying the photo, a new sensation struck her with the force of a semi-truck. Spending time with her as she did tonight in this domestic setting, even becoming stern when Eloise tried to stay up past bedtime, she felt downright motherly.

  She never considered herself the maternal type. She was a free-spirited performer, although one who fortunately managed to save enough to see her through the rainy days of recuperation from her injuries. And yet …

  As much as she loved the stage and the applause of the crowd, teaching was not the chore she expected it to be. The joy was less abstract than performing and more concrete. Under the studio lights, she read the expressions on her pupils’ faces, getting instant and uncensored feedback both positive and negative. She gave the girls play, lessons and discipline. Based on what parents told her, she did a good job. She acted like a mother hen to all children in her class, but none more so than Eloise.

  Thoughts raced through her mind and if she didn’t stop pacing, she’d wear a hole in the carpet. She needed her knitting — repetitive tasks helped her focus. During endless pliés and rond de jambes, she planned her classes and developed choreography. She flopped on the couch and scooped up her knitting. She considered what it would be like to be a mother, but realized she couldn’t visualize that without a man. And the man’s face was Carson’s. Needles flying in her fingers, she muttered, “It’s only because he loves Eloise and I’ve grown to care for her, too. It’s simple transference.” But her body told her something else.

  Her heart always raced at the sight of him. It was only after he’d picked up Eloise in person two weeks ago that she realized why she went home from the class a bit sad most nights. Standing beside him at the party last week, she’d noticed how nice he smelled and the broadness of his shoulders, even in a fisherman’s sweater. She liked how he stood taller than her, even when she wore heels. Even the stubble of his five o’clock shadow as they played board games with Eloise drew her attention. Being in his house tonight, surrounded by his scent, sitting on his furniture, she wondered what it would be like to be his woman. He was so organized and rational, unlike her, yet she found him pragmatic and endearing.

  He was, of course, completely off limits. Between the photos, the woman’s coats and purses she’d noticed in the hall closet, and the floral print curtains, she surmised he still loved his deceased wife. She couldn’t begrudge his reaching out to his wife’s family and keeping her memory alive for Eloise’s sake, but he seemed trapped by a love no longer returned. She suspected he hadn’t dated since Catherine died. She liked that he changed the photo though, bringing in a new memory for Eloise to relive. She found all the photographs of Catherine a bit creepy, in part because she practically heard the woman hissing at her from beyond the grave, “Keep away f
rom my husband and my child.”

  Her own conscience wouldn’t let her get involved, anyway. Not when she had a career to resurrect. Teaching children was fun, but not as fun and certainly less financially rewarding than performing. She should call her brother, Quinn. He had a way of helping her talk through her problems and vice-versa.

  A flash of headlights in the driveway startled her. She focused on her knitting project, attempting to appear fully engrossed. She stopped herself from jumping when the key grated in the door, but she did turn her head to watch it open.

  • • •

  The sight of Penelope sitting on his sofa with her long legs tucked up beside her drew his attention as soon as he stepped inside. Her blue eyes blinked at him, giving her an expression that managed to be both innocent and alluring at the same time. He set down the cups he held in his hand, and after a long minute remembered to take off his coat and boots.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” She smiled. “How did your shopping go?” She skeptically eyed the one bag and the cups resting on the entry table.

  He approached the couch, carrying the bag and coffees with him, the same time as she stood. “Very good. I’ll have to empty the trunk later. I brought you something.” He waved the coffee cups. “I didn’t know what you like. I got a peppermint mocha and a gingerbread latte. Which would you prefer?”

  She bit her lip and furled her brow. Her confusion amused him. “Stay for a bit. I can’t drink all this coffee by myself.”

  Her gaze slid to the cups, the left side of her mouth raising slightly as she glanced back to him. “I’m such a typical girl. I can’t say no to chocolate.”

  He offered her the mocha before sitting beside her. He couldn’t agree with her — she was no typical girl in his book. She unsettled him. “Then I know which piece of cheesecake you’ll want.” He reached into the bag and handed her a box and a fork. “I could get plates if you want.”