* * *
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Hattie stood alongside Mason in Craig’s sporting-goods store while he surveyed fishing poles.
“Dad’s been bitching for years about losing his best rod steelhead fishing on the Situk River. About time he got back out there.”
While Mason took forever selecting just the right one, Hattie remembered all the times she’d shopped here with Melissa and her mom for her dad. Father’s Day and his birthday and Christmas, the three of them had been here, debating over whether to get fishing tackle or hunting gear. Back then, she never would have guessed how distant she and her family would now be.
Her parents would no doubt place all the blame for their current state of affairs on Mason, but they’d be wrong. The man and woman she’d once believed infallible were human just like everyone else.
She wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad about that fact. On the one hand, it came as somewhat of a relief to know her parents were mortal. On the flip side, why had they chosen now to fall apart? Yes, Melissa had died, and because of that, part of their family was gone forever, but for her, for their grandchildren, they couldn’t fall apart. More than ever, she needed them, but after her dad hit Mason, what would she even say?
Going to see them before her father apologized would make her feel traitorous.
“I think this one.” Mason plucked a rod from the rack. “Dad will love it. What’re you getting your dad?”
“A sack of coal. I’m still furious with him. Aren’t you?”
While Hattie pushed the stroller, they headed toward the checkout. “At first, yeah, I was plenty pissed, but then I put myself in his shoes. He lost his daughter, and that loss doesn’t make sense. One minute she was in his life, the next she was gone, so he’s striking out. I just happened to be there.”
They were next in line, which squelched the conversation—probably a good thing, as she’d need a moment to process Mason’s charitable take on the situation. She waited until they were in the car to ask, “How can you be so forgiving toward my dad?”
Mason backed out of their parking space. “How should I act? Lyle used to be like my second father. I thought the world of him. His punch didn’t hurt so much physically, as emotionally. I don’t understand, though, how they still view the divorce as such a black-and-white issue, with me one hundred percent at fault.”
“I’ve never gotten it, either.” Out on the main roads, traffic was a nightmare. The pretty day this close to Christmas was such a rarity that it seemed the whole town had come out to celebrate. “But I’m sure Melissa’s bad-mouthing didn’t help.”
The moment Hattie mentioned her sister’s bad sportsmanship regarding the divorce, guilt consumed her. Especially with Melissa gone, she shouldn’t have been disloyal to the sister she’d loved.
But then, what did she owe Mason? In such a short time, he’d come to mean so much, which frightened her. From the start, what they’d shared was never supposed to be more than a temporary good time. A way to feel better when nothing in her life felt right.
At the next stoplight, Mason asked, “Melissa trash-talked me a lot to your folks?”
“I—I suppose.” She tried looking down, but he placed his fingers beneath her chin, urging her to meet his gaze.
“What exactly did she say?”
“I don’t want to do this. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh—but your sister making false claims about me to your parents was?”
“I didn’t mean that.”
They finally broke free of traffic, but for the next few miles, and then hours, Mason didn’t speak a word.
Chapter Seventeen
That night, Mason stood in front of the twelve-foot tree he’d lugged from the forest to help Hattie decorate. They’d draped it in lights—the last available from both Shamrock’s and the grocery store. They’d hung all of Melissa and Alec’s ornaments—some Mason even remembered having been around back when they’d been married. So here it sat, this monument to the holiday, but what had it solved or proved?
Hattie’s relationship with her parents was worse than ever. Melissa’s perfect house had been maintained, but what did it matter if no one saw it but him and Hattie? The twins were supposed to be having a magical first Christmas, but as long as they had plenty of bottles, clean diapers and hugs, he got the impression they couldn’t care less about the season’s opulent trappings Hattie insisted they have.
So, in the end, after all of this work, what had he and Hattie accomplished? Part of him felt rather than celebrating the true meaning of Christmas, all they had done was construct an elaborate altar at which they were supposed to worship Melissa’s memory. Only that wasn’t what he’d signed up to do.
Come to think of it, what was he doing? It’d taken Hattie a couple days to get past the initial shock of her broken arm, but since then, her cast hadn’t slowed her. So if she didn’t need him, why hadn’t he gone back to base? Why had he stayed in Conifer, playing house, when he could be making a genuine difference for his country?
“You ever speaking to me again?” Hattie had been downstairs, folding laundry. He’d offered to do it for her, but in typical Hattie fashion, she’d refused.
He shrugged.
Stepping up behind him, she slipped her hands around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. “I am sorry. Before Melissa died, I one hundred percent took your side in the divorce. I still feel the same, but her dying tangled it all up in my mind. My sister never said anything that heinous about you—she just excelled at playing the poor, innocent victim. I guess the only way she could reconcile her actions into not being your garden-variety adultery was by claiming you were gone so often that she’d been forced to turn to Alec for support. Total B.S., but there you have it—the world according to Melissa.”
Strangely unable to cope with even the few hours’ separation their argument had caused, Mason placed his hands over Hattie’s. “Thanks. As much as it hurts, now that I know the specifics of what your parents believe I did, that puts me somewhat on an even playing field. Trouble is, with your sister not here to back me up, we both know who they’re most likely always going to believe.”
“I am sorry....”
Turning to face her, he ran his hands along her upper arms. “Know what’s funny?”
Her sad smile filled his heart to near bursting. “I honestly can’t think of a single funny thing.”
“Okay, so maybe funny isn’t the right word. More enlightening, but the fact is that as long as I have you on my side, I don’t care what your parents think.”
She had no response.
“Wishing you felt the same?”
Nodding, she crushed him in a hug. “Everything’s such a complicated mess. I don’t know what to believe.”
He kissed the top of her head. “How about we table the topic for now, turn off this obscene amount of lights and focus on what we do best....” Pressing his lips on hers filled him with the same excitement as when he stepped foot on American ground after having been gone on an extended mission. As much as it terrified him to admit it, all the way out here in tiny Conifer, Alaska, with his best childhood friend who’d somehow become more, when he hadn’t even been looking, Mason had finally found home.
Only trouble was, how the hell was he going to keep it? More important, considering what an abysmal failure he’d been at family life before, was he 100 percent sure he wanted it?
* * *
TWO DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, instead of going to her bar as Hattie told Mason she’d be doing, she stopped by her parents’ home. Though Mason teased her about having adopted Melissa’s quest for perfection, Hattie took it seriously. As the twins’ mom, she had to be as diligent as possible with every aspect of parenting. While she’d never reach Melissa’s degree of perfection, she would always try to do her best.
&nbs
p; Approaching the front door, she felt her nerves take over.
Her mom usually went all-out with holiday decoration, but the same fall wreath that’d been on the door the day of Melissa’s death was still there, droopy and faded and crusty with ice.
Hattie’s relationship with her parents had degraded to the point she rang the doorbell instead of walking in.
“What a nice surprise.” Of all people, Hattie hadn’t expected her mother to answer the door, but she was cautiously optimistic about seeing her mom out of bed. “Did you bring the twins?”
“No.” In the entry hall, Hattie slipped her arms from her coat.
“I’m almost afraid to ask who’s with them.”
This again? “Mason. And he’s great, Mom. They adore him.”
She sighed. “Come on in. Can I get you anything? Tea?”
“No, thank you.” The home Hattie had grown up in had always been cluttered, but clean. Now it just looked sad. Dishes and newspapers littered the counters. The dining room table was piled with photo albums. “Where’s Dad?”
“Working late. Keeping busy seems to help him cope.”
“What about you? Are you doing anything special for yourself?”
Akna sat on the sofa, then flipped through a pile of photos she’d taken from the side table. “I’m thinking of taking up scrapbooking. It’ll be a big project, but you can help. I want to make a special book for each year of your sister’s life. Maybe even two or three per year for those times when she was extra busy. I’m seriously debating leaving out her wedding pictures with Mason, though. This project is meant to celebrate her life, so it doesn’t seem right to feature a time that caused her such pain.”
Hattie had never wanted to bang her head against a wall more than she did now. “Um, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you and Dad so fixated on blaming Mason for everything bad that ever happened to Mel?”
For a split second, her mother’s wide-eyed, gaping expression caused a flicker of guilt. But then a myriad of beautiful memories Mason had shared with their family not just in the past, but recently, emboldened her to forge ahead.
“When I broke my ankle, do you remember who carried me in from the woods? And whenever Mel procrastinated on school projects, who was always there for her to pick up the slack? Who helped with the yard work and gardening, never expecting to be paid in anything but your ham sandwiches or fish stew? Yes, Mel and Mason’s divorce was ugly, but why can’t you see he never wanted it? He loved her as much as we did—do. She was his life, and she essentially threw him away. How can you blame him when he was the injured party?”
Seeming flustered, Akna dropped her photos and stooped to gather them. “I thought it might be nice for us to share this scrapbooking project, but you’re just upsetting me.”
“Mom, I need you to be upset.” Hattie helped clean the mess. “You have to snap out of your grief long enough to recognize Melissa’s girls need their grandmother.”
“If I believed that, she’d have left them with me, instead of you.”
Heels of her hands pressed to her forehead, Hattie realized she might as well have been talking to the raggedy wreath on the front door. “Don’t you get it? In leaving her kids to me, Melissa gave you and Dad a tremendous gift. She freed you from the day-to-day drudgery of constant feedings and baths and laundry so you could be their grandmother. She wanted them to grow up viewing you as a person to be loved and cherished and honored—just like Melissa and I did with your parents and Dad’s. Why are you denying them that opportunity? What I especially don’t understand is why you’re blaming Mason for any of what happened.”
What had started as her mother’s silent tears now turned messy. “Why do I blame Mason? B-because if they’d never gotten divorced, your sister never would’ve married Alec, and she never would’ve been in his p-plane. Please, leave. J-just go...”
Hattie crossed the room to give her mother a hug, and then abided by her wishes. She’d done all she could to repair their relationship. The next move was solidly in her mother’s court.
Pressing her hand to the front door, Hattie said, “You’re welcome to share Christmas breakfast with us around nine. Fern and Jerry will be there. I’ve also invited Alec’s mom and dad, though I doubt they’ll come. It’d be a real shame for you to miss Viv and Van’s first Christmas.”
* * *
WHILE FERN BABYSAT the twins, Mason browsed Shamrock’s with his dad, searching for just the right gifts for Hattie, the girls and Fern—the tissue house thingy they’d purchased at the holiday fair seemed more from Hattie than him. “What about a scarf and glove set?”
His dad laughed. “Son, I think you’ve moved a ways past that.”
“How so?”
“Don’t you think she’s expecting a ring on her finger?”
Damn near choking on his own spit, Mason asked, “Where’d you get that idea?”
“You two are not only shacking up, but share a couple kids. I’ve seen you with all three of those girls and you look downright smitten. Why not marry Hattie? She’s been trailing after you all doe-eyed practically from the day she could walk.”
“Oh, come on...” They passed the jewelry department. “Marriage is a step I only intended to take once, and see where that landed me? Besides, you never married again after losing Mom, so why should I?”
Jerry picked up a box of chocolates, bouncing it between his hands. “The key word there is lost. What happened to you was different. Never said anything to you, but to me, your Melissa always struck me as a little too big for her britches. Everyone fawned all over her like her poo didn’t stink, but by God, what she and Alec did to you did stink—to high heaven. None of that was your fault, so why have you spent so many years blaming yourself when sweet little Hattie’s been here all this time, just waiting for you to realize she’s the best thing the Beaumont family ever had to offer?”
Head spinning, Mason wasn’t sure what to say other than, “Well, that’s easy for you to say, but what about you and Fern? Anyone with eyes could see you two are more than just friends.”
“Of course we are.”
“Then you’re finally admitting you feel a little something extra for her?”
“I should hope so, seeing how I married her ten years ago.”
“You what?” Mason froze smack-dab in the center of the blender and toaster aisle.
“You heard me. We decided not to make a big deal out of it. I’m allergic to her dogs, and can’t stand most of her shows, so she mostly stays up at her place.” He winked. “Without fail, though, we never miss conjugal visits at my place every Saturday night.”
“How come you never told me?”
Jerry reached for a pig-shaped cutting board. “Don’t recall you ever asked.”
* * *
“WHAT’RE YOU ALL DOING?” Hattie asked Mason upon returning home from her parents’ to find him with the girls on their play mat.
“We’re trying to say ‘cow,’ but all I’m hearing are a lot of goos.”
After tossing her coat on the back of the sofa, Hattie joined the cozy trio. “You do realize you’re months ahead of schedule for their first words?”
“Most babies say their first official words around twelve months, but clearly we’re dealing with prodigies, so I’m anticipating words way sooner than that.”
“Uh-huh...” She loved the way just being with him and the girls transformed the most mundane activities into pure magic. Tickling Vivian’s tummy, she asked, “Okay, gorgeous, out with it. According to Drill Sergeant Mason, you should be speaking in full sentences by Valentine’s Day.”
Mason’s complexion paled.
“You all right?”
He nodded. “It’s inconceivable to me that by the time I see these two again, they could be walking and talking.”
“I’m surprised that kind of stuff’s even on your radar.”
“Why?” He rolled onto his side, taking Vanessa along with him. She sat up, reclining against him. She looked so comfortable, so completely at peace, Hattie couldn’t bear thinking of how ruined the girls would be when it came time for Mason to go. “I care a lot about these two.”
“I know, but once you gave up your rights, I figured it’d be no big deal for you to walk away.”
“Me, too....” His normally easygoing smile struck her as hollow. Did he regret relinquishing custody of the girls? But even if he did, how would he raise them when his career dictated a large portion of his time was spent overseas?
She wanted to tell him about what had happened with her mom, but couldn’t. As much as she needed to vent, Mason didn’t deserve to be dragged into her mom’s irrationally cruel coping methods. Hattie had done her best to remind her mother of happier times they’d all shared, but if she wasn’t ready to listen, there was little more Hattie could say.
“Your dad and Fern are coming for Christmas, right?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t they? Oh—and before you answer, have I got news for you.”
She sat up, perching Vivian on her lap. “Let’s hear it.”
“Prepare to have your mind blown—my dad and Fern are married.”
“What?”
“Dad and I were out shopping this afternoon when he admitted they tied the knot ten years ago.”
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I thought so, too.”
“Why aren’t they living together?” He rattled off a long list of reasons that actually sounded level-headed. “Okay, but why the secret? Someone should’ve at least thrown them a reception.”
He smoothed Vanessa’s hair. “They didn’t want anyone butting into their business. Sound familiar?”
“Maybe a smidge.” Laughing, she held her thumb and forefinger barely apart. “But I’m sure my dad will stop by soon to apologize.”
“I’m not holding my breath.”
The SEAL's Christmas Twins Page 17
