Christmas Magic

by Andrea Edwards

  Casey gave Mike a pointed look. She knew he was mocking Melvin, but she wasn’t going to allow it. “I think it is brave,” she said. “Considering how terrible the roads are, I think it was very brave.”

  “Foolhardy even,” Mike continued. “Nobody should’ve been out on them. Only makes more work for us cops.”

  “I’m a good driver,” Melvin said. “And I wanted to see Casey.”

  “And I wanted to see you,” she assured him, with a quick glance at Mike to make sure he was getting the idea. “Can you take me home?” she asked Melvin. “Do you mind?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mike snapped. “He’s a new driver on lousy roads.”

  Melvin seemed to bristle. “I could do it,” he said.

  “And risk Casey’s life?” Mike asked. “Not to mention your own.”

  What was Mike being so pigheaded about this morning? “I could do the driving,” Casey said.

  “It’s almost as dangerous to drive a car you aren’t familiar with on these roads,” Mike said.

  She felt like kicking him. He was being a real jerk. If he was so in love with Darcy, he ought to be glad Casey was about to go. He should be helping her load up the car and giving Melvin directions to the expressway, not putting obstacles in her way.

  “Melvin will take good care of me,” Casey said, with a smile at Melvin designed to make Mike gag. Hopefully enough to also make him leave. “I’m not worried at all.”

  Melvin smiled back at her. There was something in his look that she found disturbing—not scary disturbing, but clingy disturbing. Maybe this wasn’t the right way to make Mike go inside.

  “And you shouldn’t be,” Melvin said, then leaned in closer. “I have a very special surprise for you.”

  Oh, great. She took a deep breath.

  “Really,” Mike said, his voice full of fake enthusiasm. “That’s great. I can’t wait to see it.”

  Casey glared in his direction, which he pretended not to notice. Why was he being such a jerk about things? She took Melvin’s arm. “Let’s go up to my apartment, shall we? Have you had breakfast?”

  “Just some coffee,” he said.

  “Then you need to come in the kitchen here,” Mike said. “I’ve got bacon and eggs and toast.”

  Casey’s look told him to back off—but she wasn’t sure he was reading it. He took hold of Melvin’s other arm.

  “Come on, Melvin,” she said, and tugged him toward her. Mike let go with a glare, but she didn’t care. “Help me pack up the car, then we can grab some breakfast downtown.”

  She knew Mike was watching them. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to turn around. Less than an hour and she’d be gone.

  Mike watched until Casey and Melvin disappeared through the side garage door, then kicked Melvin’s tire. What a jerk that Melvin was! How could she be thinking of letting him drive her home?

  Mike frowned at Melvin’s car, then at Casey’s. Maybe he ought to sabotage both cars so they’d be stuck here. No, she’d find a way to leave. But she would be better off in her own car, so he had to thaw out the locks. And fast. Maybe if he pushed it into the garage and got some space heaters…

  He glanced down at his hands, almost numb with the cold. “Gloves,” he told Gus. “I need to find my gloves. That cat has to have hidden them somewhere in the house.”

  He hurried back inside, with Gus reluctantly following him.

  “She was your great buddy,” Mike grumbled to his pet. “You ought to know what she did with them.”

  If he did, Gus wasn’t telling. He went to his corner in the kitchen and lay down, while Mike went upstairs to the room Casey had used. They were in here someplace, which ought to mean they’d be easy to find, but there were boxes piled high in one corner. A closet full of junk with a door that wouldn’t quite close. A desk, some shelves. He’d never really realized just how much junk had been left here from all the previous owners.

  Mike shook his head and got down on his hands and knees. He looked under the desk, behind the boxes, in back of the shelves, and felt under the nightstand. His hand hit something. His gloves! But when he pulled them out, something else came along. A crumpled-up piece of newspaper. Curious, he flattened it out.

  It was an article about a baby girl abandoned in Benton Harbor twenty-seven years ago. Almost exactly twenty-seven years ago. He frowned. The baby’s birth date was the same as Casey’s. Was this her?

  He read on. About the baby being left in a church basement. About the priest who’d found her and how bitterly cold the night had been. About how the baby was cold but seemed healthy. And about the priest’s view of the baby’s mother. Mike winced as he read the quote—about the mother being “heartless, selfish, thoroughly evil” for leaving the child there to die, for not caring about the welfare of her baby.

  Mike sat back, feeling as if someone had knocked the breath from him. Those were pretty strong words to hear about your mother, birth or otherwise. The baby in the article had to be Casey, and the article itself had to have belonged to Casey. How else would it have gotten here? And what did it mean?

  Gus came upstairs and lay on the floor next to him, resting his head on Mike’s knee.

  “What it means is easy,” Mike told him. “It means that she thinks her very own mother didn’t care if she lived or died. That she’s been carrying a hell of a burden around for a while now, and it also explains why she got so hyper when I said I’d find a home for you.”

  Gus just wagged his tail.

  Mike petted his head, scratching him behind the ears the way Gus liked. “I was only saying it because I was trying to let Casey down easy,” he told the dog. “But I made everything ten times worse. Hell, a hundred times worse. A thousand times worse.”

  Gus looked up at him, big eyes all serious and questioning.

  “I know. I know.” Mike nodded. “Shows she’s better off without me, doesn’t it?”

  He got up and walked slowly over to the window. He hadn’t realized it, but from here he could see one of the windows in the garage apartment. And right now, he could see Casey and Melvin talking. Casey throwing her arms around Melvin. Casey hugging Melvin and laughing. Casey leaning over to kiss Melvin.

  What the hell was she doing? Aunt Myrna was right. Casey did need protection from herself, and she was going to get it!

  “It’s all right, Melvin, honest,” Casey said, mopping the front of her sweater with a towel.

  Luckily, the hot chocolate wasn’t all that hot, for it had soaked through her blouse and her bra to her skin, not to mention down the front of her jeans, too. Melvin had gotten a little exuberant.

  “I’m really sorry,” he said, for about the millionth time.

  She just shook her head and put the towel on the table, before giving him a light kiss on his cheek. “Forget it,” she said. “I’m just so happy for you. I had no idea you and Jenny were seeing each other.”

  “We haven’t been for very long,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “But sometimes these things happen fast.”

  “So I hear.” As if she didn’t know. “I’m going to get out of these wet clothes and clean up. You can tell me everything on the ride to Fort Wayne.”

  She took some clean clothes from her suitcase and went into the bathroom. Melvin’s surprise had been quite a surprise—he was engaged, and to a wonderful young woman that Casey knew well. And to think Casey had been worried that he was seeing her in a romantic light! Oh well, it showed how silly love made one.

  She stripped off her sweater, blouse, bra and jeans, then dumped them in the bathtub to rinse out the chocolate. While the water was running into the tub, she pulled on a T-shirt. It was nice to know that Melvin had found happiness. At least some people weren’t like her and Mike, destined to love the unattainable.

  Kneeling on the floor and leaning over the edge of the tub, Casey turned the water on. She wished life was simpler and that there was a way to avoid getting hurt. But then, there was—never take a risk. She swished the
clothes around in the water, then glanced at the door. She thought she heard Melvin talking, but she must have been wrong. Who would—

  Suddenly the bathroom door crashed open, smashing up against the far wall with a crash that rivaled a sonic boom. Then a big furry dog flew in, took a gigantic leap and landed right in the bathtub!

  Casey barely had time to spring back as water sprayed everywhere—over her, the wall, the whole room. “Gus!”

  But even as the words came out of her mouth, she realized she wasn’t alone. The door was wide open and Mike and Melvin were standing there. Casey tugged at her T-shirt, trying to make it longer, trying to make it cover more of the bare essentials.

  “Haven’t we done this before?” she demanded of Mike.

  But Mike was busy with Melvin. “Get the hell out of here, Melvin,” he snapped.

  “Mike! How dare you!”

  He turned back to her, his eyes dark with agitation. “How dare I? Somebody’s got to be watching out for you.”

  “Watching out for me? What for?”

  “What for?” He waved his hand around the tiny bathroom. “Just look at us all. You draw every stray for miles around. You’re a stray magnet.”

  “What is that dog doing?” Melvin asked.

  Casey looked at Gus, who had gotten her bra over his nose. She grabbed it away.

  “I thought I told you to leave,” Mike was saying to Melvin.

  “He doesn’t have to,” Casey said. “He’s my guest.”

  “It’s my house.”

  “It’s Mrs. Jamison’s house.” The frown on Mike’s face said she’d gotten him there. “It’s not your house because you’re so damned afraid to commit to anything.”

  “Well, it might not be my house, but it is my job to protect you,” Mike said. “That’s why Myrna sent you here.”

  Casey crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the sink. “She sent me here to write a family history.”

  “That was the story she used. The real reason was to protect you from yourself.”

  “What?” Casey just stared at him.

  Mike turned to Melvin. “Look, Mel,” he said. “I don’t know what she promised, but it’s a no-go. It’s over. Kaput.”

  “Casey…” Melvin looked over at her. “What is going on?”

  “Mike, this has gone far enough,” she said. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, but I think it’s time you left.”

  “I didn’t know what was going on either, Mel,” Mike said, suddenly changing to a friendly tone. “I knew she collected strays, that was pretty obvious, but I didn’t know why until a few minutes ago.”

  “And you do now?” she asked.

  “I found this,” he said, and held up a scrap of newspaper.

  Casey’s heart stopped, then she slowly let out her breath. “Where’d you find it? No, what difference does that make?” she said, more to herself than him.

  “What is it?” Melvin asked.

  “Just an old newspaper article,” Casey said, and forced a smile. “About my being abandoned as a baby.”

  “Really?” He touched the article. “May I?”

  Mike looked at Casey; she slowly nodded. “Why not?” she said.

  Mike gave him the article, then took a step closer to Casey. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His voice was so low and caring it brought tears to her eyes, but she really didn’t want to talk about this. “Tell you what? That my mother dumped me right after birth? That she didn’t care what happened to me? Mothers do it all the time. What’s the big deal?”

  “Casey, don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Don’t admit the truth to myself? That’s kind of silly, isn’t it? I’m not likely to believe my lies.” Mike looked all too good, standing there in the doorway. And all too sure of himself.

  “Why not?” he asked. “You believe the lies in the article.”

  She frowned at him. “What lies?”

  “All that stuff that priest said. How do you know it’s the truth?”

  “How do you know it isn’t?”

  “If she really didn’t care about you, why would she have left you in a church? Why not in a Dumpster? Or along a deserted road?”

  “He’s right there, Casey,” Melvin said, handing the article back to Mike. “She’d pick a lousy place to dump you if she really was trying to hide your existence.”

  “Melvin,” she snapped. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “There’s nothing to take sides on. You haven’t really been stewing on this long, have you?”

  “Of course, she has,” Mike said. “Why do you think she rescues everything in sight? Cats. Dogs. You. Me. So that’s why it’s not going to work between you two.”

  “What isn’t?” Melvin asked.

  What bug had gotten into Mike’s head now? “Melvin just got engaged to a friend of mine,” Casey interjected hotly.

  “Really?” Mike smiled, and it was as if the sun had come out after a sudden storm. He stuck out his hand. “Hey, congratulations. Glad to hear it.”

  Melvin shook his hand, though he looked rather befuddled. “Thanks, I guess.”

  Casey wasn’t feeling quite as friendly toward Mike as he seemed to be feeling toward Melvin, but she smiled at her friend. “Maybe it would be best if you left us,” she said. “I think I need to talk to Mike alone.”

  Melvin looked from one to the other, then shrugged. “Okay. Want me to take the dog?”

  Casey had forgotten about Gus and turned to look at him. He was sitting in the tub, looking as goofy as ever. “Yeah, you’d better take him. This isn’t going to be pretty. Gus, come on out.”

  Gus hopped out, shook himself dry all over her, then trotted out with Melvin. Once the door was closed, Casey turned toward Mike.

  “What do you—”

  He’d come three steps closer and was right in front of her. Too close for her to think or speak. Putting a hand on each arm, he made her sit on the edge of the bathtub as he squatted in front of her and took her hands in his. His eyes were saying something, but she’d never been good at reading silent messages.

  “I really hurt you before,” he said softly. “I made up that story about Darcy, and then suddenly it was all about Gus, and I didn’t know how much it would hurt you. I never would have—”

  He what? She couldn’t have heard him right. “Hold it.” She ripped her hands from his and grabbed hold of the front of his sweater. “You made up that story about Darcy? You made it up?” Her voice had risen with each word she spat out. “You made up that you were still in love with your ex-fiancée?”

  He looked a little startled at her vehemence. “Well, yeah,” he said simply.

  “And you made up that whole thing about giving Gus up?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” she cried, feeling so astonished and angry that she was unable to do anything but echo him. “Sort of?”

  “But it was all for your own good.”

  “For my own good?” She was screeching now as she rose to her feet, bringing him up, also. “You made me completely, utterly miserable for my own good?”

  “I hated to see you so worried about me and I thought—”

  “You thought!” She shoved him back against the sink. “You didn’t think at all. You ran scared! You told yourself it was some big, brave, save-the-little-woman, macho decision, but it was nothing more than you running scared.”

  “Hey!”

  She realized she’d been emphasizing each word by poking him with her index finger, and she pulled her hands back. “This wasn’t at all about me being worried. It was about you. And how afraid you were that I’d react like Darcy. That I’d leave and you’d be hurt again.”

  “I was thinking of you,” he retorted sharply.

  “If you were thinking of me, you would have been honest,” she said. “You would have treated me like an adult and given me the choice.” She took a step toward him, and he slid along the sink until he could turn
slightly. “You wouldn’t have made sure things would go as you thought they should.”

  “It wasn’t just up to you,” he said. “You think I like knowing someone’s worrying about me? That you jump every time the phone rings?”

  “What makes you think I’d stop worrying once I left here?” she snapped. “You think love is something you turn on and off at will?”

  “Of course, it isn’t,” he snapped back. “But you don’t have to let it grow, either.”

  “No, right. Let’s chop it off at the knees. Might hurt a little, but what’s a little pain? Much better than a little worry and a lot of happiness.”

  “You’re taking this all wrong,” he said. “I only came over because of that article, not to change anything between us.”

  “How did you get that paper, anyway?” she demanded. Another reason to be furious with him.

  “Hey, I wasn’t poking in anything,” he said, holding his hands up in a protestation of innocence as he backed away again. “If you’ve got to blame anybody, blame your cat. I was looking for my gloves and found that. Though why I needed your cat to explain this mystery to me when you should have, I don’t know.”

  “I should…” She stopped. “What did you say? My cat explained a mystery of life to you?”

  “Yeah.” He looked uneasy, as if he wasn’t sure what she was getting at, and took another step back. He was up against the tub.

  Casey just grinned. Things looked mighty different all of a sudden. “I seem to remember someone saying I was safe from him until my cats explained the mysteries of life to him.”

  He just froze. “But I didn’t mean…”

  “Hey, they kept up their side of the bargain,” she said, and took a step closer, then another. “Shouldn’t you?”

  When she reached out to put her hands on his chest, he backed up again—and tumbled into the bathtub! Water sprayed all around, he looked stunned and Casey laughed, falling in on top of him.

  “So what’s your argument now, Mr. Macho?” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Casey,” he said with a moan.

  “I love you,” she whispered, and kissed his lips softly. It had been so long, too long, since she’d tasted him. A shudder ran through her. Or had it run through Mike and just echoed in her heart?