The Best Christmas Ever

by Cheryl Wolverton

  “I was getting ready to bring my own child home and Mickie was still there. I had a feeling she was thinking about walking home the way she kept looking around for her ride. The poor little dear. I know you’ve been having trouble with baby-sitters, so I asked her if anyone was coming to pick her up. She said her aunt Sarah had forgotten her. I didn’t know you had a sister. I insisted she ride home with me and we’d call as soon as we arrived, but we forgot, having our cookies and milk, so I’m calling you now.”

  Justin closed his eyes and counted to ten. Stephanie wanted him as her next husband. She’d done just about everything to get the message across except send him a telegram. She loved his house, his money and the social position she would have. Oh, he knew her kind. But this was too much. Mickie really liked Stephanie’s daughter, but the woman was lonely and needy, imagining him as the answer to her problems. He didn’t want to tell Stephanie exactly what he thought of her stunt or whom she had terrified, nor did he want to let her off scot-free. Father, give me patience, he thought. “I’ll let Sarah know what happened and she’ll come over and pick her up.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary. The girls are having a wonderful time. Why don’t I just keep her until suppertime. You can stop by on your way home from work and have dinner with us…”

  “Thank you, Stephanie,” he said, “but I don’t think that’s possible. Sarah is the new housekeeper and she’ll already have started supper. Besides, Mickie knows she’s suppose to wait or call.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re not going to chastise Mickie for the sitter’s being late,” Stephanie said in a pouty voice.

  “No. No, not for that at all,” he said, though he would have a talk with his daughter again about getting in a car with anyone other than the person supposed to pick her up. And walking home. He shuddered at the thought. “Look, I have to go. My housekeeper is on the other line. Thanks for calling.” He hung up before she could get another word in.

  “Sarah,” he said into the other line, “she’s two blocks over at Stephanie Williams’s house.”

  Oh, thank you, Father, she whispered.

  Justin was certain he could hear tears. “You might remember that next time you plan to pick Mickie up,” he growled. He heard a swiftly indrawn breath but didn’t care. He was still shaking himself. He tersely gave her directions to Stephanie Williams’s house and hung up the phone.

  “So, what has you looking so grim? Did you find a virus in our latest software package?” Bill quipped as he entered the office.

  “Stephanie Williams just took my daughter home from school. It seems Mickie thought Sarah forgot to pick her up.”

  “And?”

  “And?” Justin asked, staring incredulously at Bill. “Well, for starters, I’m absolutely furious with Sarah. What are you shaking your head about?”

  “I’d say you’re feeling the aftereffects of terror.”

  Justin frowned. Bill was right. But he didn’t have to like it. “Sarah has been here over a week. She should have been watching the time.”

  Bill raised an eyebrow.

  “Mickie was about to walk home!” Justin exclaimed.

  Bill chuckled. “I remember you telling me that Mickie once tried to walk to work to visit you.”

  Just like that, his fear and anger melted away. And with that, guilt swept in. He felt like a total heel for the way he’d treated Sarah on the phone a few minutes ago. Why hadn’t he remembered this wasn’t the first time his daughter had thought someone had forgotten to pick her up, after she’d waited only a few minutes? He knew it all came from the way Amy had left in the middle of the night, without saying goodbye to Mickie. The slightest incident triggered Mickie’s feelings of abandonment, of being forgotten. Why had he been so angry at Sarah?

  Yeah, Mickie had tried walking to his office, which was a forty-five-minute drive from his house. He shook his head and curved his lips as he remembered how Mrs. Winters had called him, hysterical that she couldn’t find Mickie at school. He’d been terrified, too, until the school cross guard came walking back to the building with Mickie. Luckily, Mickie had asked the cross guard for directions downtown, explaining she had wanted to see her daddy. He shuddered recalling, the long talk he’d had with his daughter about waiting where she was told to wait and trying to solve problems herself.

  That had been just after Amy died.

  “Is Sarah safe or should I go rescue her?”

  Justin glanced up at Bill. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, that look is off your face, which means Mickie is safe and sound and so is Sarah, so I guess she’ll still be safe when you get home,” Bill said, ignoring Justin’s question.

  He slouched in the chair in front of Justin. “So how’s it going on the home front?”

  Justin leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his stomach. “Fine. Why?”

  Bill grinned. “I know both of you and how you’re usually at each other’s throats. I just wondered.”

  Justin shrugged. “Sarah’s different.” He thought about how she’d had dinner ready each night, and went to extra lengths every day to have everything done. She was working herself harder than any other housekeeper he’d ever had. He’d never thought of her as the domestic type. He’d also noticed circles under her eyes. He didn’t think she was resting well, though she always smiled and had a kind word for him or a sweet smile and a hug for Mickie.

  “She’s eaten up with guilt.”

  “What?” Justin regarded Bill, almost having forgotten he was there.

  “Guilt. You know what that is. She doesn’t think she’s good enough for anything.”

  This was new to Justin. He sat up straighter. “What do you mean? She certainly hasn’t acted like a cowed individual.”

  Bill sighed. “Guilt manifests itself in different ways, Justin. Just because she’s not walking around with the ‘woe is me’ look Amy wore whenever she felt sorry for herself doesn’t mean—”

  “Let’s leave Amy out of this.”

  Bill nodded. “I’m sorry, Justin. What I mean is, well—” he shrugged, averting his eyes to the window and staring out “—Sarah feels guilty about her boyfriend dumping her, I think. Add that to the way she keeps messing up every relationship she’s involved in—”

  “She hasn’t messed up any relationships that I know of,” Justin said, defending her.

  “What would you call what happened between the two of you?”

  Justin paused. “Well, one mistake, then. She shouldn’t have tried to take my daughter from me. But that’s water under the bridge. Why does she blame herself for the breakup with her fiancé? What happened?”

  Bill shrugged. “All I can say is, it wasn’t Sarah’s fault.”

  Justin accepted Bill’s vague answer and respected Bill’s ability to keep a confidence. Maybe that was why so many of Bill’s friends confided in him. Yet why did he bring it up if he wasn’t going to tell him? Justin wondered, frustrated.

  “Look, just be careful about hurting her. Like when you go home today to discuss that she forgot your daughter. She’s already blaming herself for everything that has gone wrong in the past decade, as far as I can tell. Don’t add to the load.”

  Justin was shocked. He’d never pictured Sarah as the sensitive type who would carry around extra baggage like that He’d always thought of her as a “full steam ahead” type who did what she wanted and didn’t really care about what she left in her wake. He remembered his curt words to her the first couple of days and wondered now if she really had been feeling guilty over everything between them these past years. Was that why she’d come to him?

  “So, have you decided to date her?”

  “Date?” Justin sputtered.

  Bill grinned. “Yeah, as in ‘let’s go out and see a movie’?”

  Justin shot Bill a frown. “Of course not. She’s my sister-in-law.”

  “Hey, I just wondered. You look so different.”

  Did he look different? He’d enjoyed having Sar
ah in his house this last week. She was sweet, kind and fun to talk with. But he wasn’t in the market for a wife. Especially if what Bill said was true. For he wasn’t going to marry someone else who came to him out of guilt.

  Deciding to change the subject, he looked Bill up and down. “So, how’s life been treating you? Looks like you’ve gained a little weight since you married.”

  Bill’s grin spread across his face and he locked his hands behind his head. “Ah, yes, the little woman keeps me well-fed.”

  Justin stood, straightened his coat and came around the desk. “I’d like to hear what your wife would say about being called ‘little woman.’ Come on. If we’re going to lunch, we’d better get out of here. I have a meeting at two-thirty.”

  Bill chuckled and crossed the office with Justin.

  He watched Bill’s smile, the ease in his walk, how relaxed he was. Bill had certainly mellowed since marrying. A deep part in Justin yearned for that same thing that Bill had.

  Would he ever find it?

  * * *

  Sarah paced the living room.

  Mickie was on the swing in the backyard. Dinner was ready. But Justin wasn’t home.

  She had blown it today.

  She’d thought being a baby-sitter would be a piece of cake.

  And then she’d blown it.

  How could she have forgotten Mickie? Justin’s words came back to her. You might remember that next time you plan to pick Mickie up. It wasn’t so much the words as the tone. He blamed her, as he should. But it had hurt just the same. She cared for Mickie, too. She hadn’t meant to forget Mickie.

  It was just that she was tired. So very tired. She’d been trying so hard to be a good housekeeper and everything that Mickie needed. Justin didn’t know it, but she’d been up nights studying books on parenting and child development, as well as some of the latest housekeeping and cooking tips she found in women’s magazines.

  She was beginning to wonder how women had time for anything else but housekeeping. She’d stripped the floors and rewaxed them. She’d shampooed the carpets. And the curtains…well, they’d said in one magazine that they should be taken down once a month to be cleaned to keep any problems with allergies out of the house. Then there were the meals.

  Sarah was used to buying canned or frozen convenience foods, not fresh meats and vegetables. Her eating habits weren’t very healthy. But she couldn’t expect Mickie or Justin to eat like that. So she’d been doing her best to fix new innovative meals each night. And the meals she was fixing took anywhere from two to three hours each. Some she had to start right after Justin went to work because meats had to be marinated or set out to thaw.

  Today she’d been trying to get all the ingredients mixed for the chocolate coconut cake Mickie wanted, before she had to leave to pick up the child from school. She’d just happened to glance up at the clock and see she should have been at school that very minute.

  Had she been thinking, she would have called the school and asked them to tell Mickie she was on her way and for them to keep an eye on her.

  But she hadn’t been thinking. She’d simply run out the door in her haste to reach her niece.

  “I’m home.”

  Sarah whirled toward the door to see Justin just entering. He looked handsome.

  He always looked handsome. The tweed coat and jeans with cowboy boots were so Texan on him. Odd to think he was the head of such a large corporation yet he dressed like this. He was always full of surprises. “Mickie is out back.”

  “I see.” Justin put his briefcase in the hall closet after taking out a few papers first. He started toward the library.

  “May I talk to you?”

  He looked over his shoulder, surprised. “Sure. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

  Dread filled her. If she only got fired she’d be lucky. She wondered if he could bring her up on charges for abandonment or something.

  Justin went to his desk and placed the papers there, then turned and leaned against the surface. “You look nice today.”

  She was shocked. But glad. She’d put on a new peach-colored top with her jeans knowing the shade complemented her coloring. Her hair was swept back into a French braid, clasped with a peach ribbon. While dressing this morning, she’d hoped taking more care with her appearance would lift her spirits, make her feel more feminine.

  That was stupid, because she knew, deep down inside, that she would never be feminine enough. After all, she couldn’t have children…“I wanted to talk about this afternoon,” she said, blocking the painful thought from her mind.

  “I figured you did,” Justin replied, his features relaxed.

  “Look, Justin, no matter what you think of me, I wanted to tell you I’m really, really sorry for what happened. I got carried away with cooking and just let the hours slip by.”

  “It’s all right, Sarah. It’s not entirely your fault. It’s partly Amy’s,” he added quietly.

  Sarah stared, confused. What did this have to do with Amy?

  “I don’t understand.”

  How could Justin be so forgiving about this? She’d imagined he’d been waiting all along for an excuse to fire her and she’d just provided him one.

  “Sit down.” He motioned to a chair.

  Sarah reluctantly eased onto the edge.

  “The night Amy left, Mickie was asleep. Of course, Amy didn’t wake her up to say good-bye. How could she have known Mickie would never see her again?” He hesitated, then went on. “Anyway, Mickie has never really gotten over the feelings of abandonment caused by the way Amy left us. If someone is supposed to pick her up and they’re even a few minutes late, she can’t handle it.” He explained. “I’ve been late to pick her up myself, due to traffic or whatever only to find she’s gone off with a friend.”

  Justin shook his head. “So far, no harm has been done. We’ve had long talks about her actions and she always promises not to go off again unless it was a real emergency.”

  “A real emergency?”

  “I explained that if it was a real emergency—and her ride didn’t come for say, an hour—she could go to her teacher, or find a policeman. Or even walk by herself to her friend’s house who lives across from the school.”

  “Ah…” Sarah said. “That explains it I guess, but it still doesn’t excuse me for forgetting to pick her up.”

  Justin shook his head. “How about if I just say I think Mickie takes after her aunt?”

  Sarah thought about that. Her heartbeat increased as she wondered exactly. what he could mean. He loved his daughter. Did that mean he saw something good in her, Sarah? “I’m not exactly sure how to take that.”

  “Take it easy, Sarah. What I’m trying to say is I don’t eat baby-sitters for lunch over minor mistakes.”

  “This wasn’t minor.”

  “Yes, it was. Stephanie picked up Mickie from school, probably with some persuasion from Mickie,” he added darkly. “I’ll have a talk with Mickie again about waiting and taking rides from strangers. I’m sure you’ll never forget her again, but if you are a little late, call the school.”

  She nodded. And trust God to keep Mickie safe. Boy, had she prayed while searching for Mickie and God had once again answered prayers by keeping her safe. “I’ll finish dinner and get it on the table,” she said, backing toward the door. “Thanks.”

  Justin nodded.

  She couldn’t understand why Justin had been so calm. She’d just known he was going to fire her and she’d once again lose the chance at the only family she would ever have. Longingly, she touched her stomach. For a moment a deep regret at what she couldn’t have touched her soul. But then she was able to thank God. Because of that minor affliction she had woken up to what she already possessed and had neglected over the past two years. She had a wonderful niece and, she was beginning to see, an equally wonderful brother-in-law.

  It would be enough. She had family, though she would never have her own family. She could surely forget that detail and go on with life,
couldn’t she?

  Chapter Eight

  Justin opened his eyes.

  It was dark, the curtains pulled. Glancing at the bedside clock he saw it was two-thirty in the morning.

  What had wakened him? Mickie hadn’t crawled into bed with him. He listened but heard no noise in his room to account for the reason he’d awakened.

  A whisper of noise reached him.

  He sat up in bed, the crisp cotton sheet sliding down his chest. Listening again, he couldn’t tell what it was he’d heard.

  It hadn’t come from downstairs. The alarm was on for the night and hadn’t been triggered.

  What could it have been? Maybe Mickie was having her nightmares again. She’d had nightmares right after Amy had died. But it had been at least six months since the last one.

  He swung his long legs out of bed. After grabbing a sweatshirt and jeans from the end of the bed, he slipped them on.

  He padded barefoot to the door, running a tired hand through his disheveled hair, then made his way down the hallway. He paused outside Mickie’s door, then pushed it wide and peeked in to where he could see her silhouette form in bed. She lay still, curled up in a ball, one hand tucked under her chin, the other under the side of her face. She looked peaceful.

  Frowning, he went over and tucked the sheet more securely about her. Had she gone back to sleep so quickly? he wondered.

  He left Mickie’s room. Just as he started down the hall, thinking he must have heard something downstairs such as the heating system, the sound came again. A whimpering moan, barely audible, sounding so forlorn that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Had he believed in ghosts, he would have thought the place haunted. But he didn’t.

  The sound emanated from somewhere he could now easily identify as he stood this close to Mickie’s door in the hallway.

  It was from Sarah’s room.

  He walked slowly over to her door. He listened and heard something—he wasn’t sure what—then it was quiet. He tapped on the door.

  “No, no, no!”

  Her broken cries chilled him. No one could be in there. They would have run when he’d knocked. She had to be having a nightmare. “Sarah?” he called out.