He was enjoying this time with the twins, really he was. It wasn’t their fault that, upon arriving at their apartment to pick them up, he had been unprepared for the logical seven-year-old assumption that the dog and the kitten would be accompanying them on the trip. And, as Katherine had pointed out, it wasn’t her place to tell them. He probably should have realized they’d be upset when he explained that the animals couldn’t come, that they would, in fact, have to stay in a kennel over the weekend. He couldn’t have known that kids took forever to say goodbye to their pets, but if he had known, he would have started out earlier. Then they wouldn’t have been late in getting to the airport, Gun wouldn’t have hustled them into the plane, and Gabe might have had a reasonable chance of getting the seating arrangements he’d had in mind...namely, separating the twins, instead of him and Katherine.
But he wasn’t worried. Once they arrived at the amusement park, everything would go just as he’d planned. The twins would gambol through the Christmas village, enjoying themselves, while he and Katherine strolled along, holding hands and discovering the delights to be found in just staring into each other’s eyes. And at the end of the day, she’d thank him for showing her that magic did exist in the world, that there was room in her heart for Santa Claus, that there was room in her life for him, her hero.
Okay, so maybe he’d had one too many cups of cocoa when he imagined the joyous possibilities of the day. But just being with Katherine was good. Just watching her laugh was a fine thing. Even if it was Gun who was both instigator and beneficiary of that laughter. Even if Gabe’s own ears were ringing from all the childhood joy on either side of him.
“I can see Dancer and Prancer and Donover and Blizzard and... What’s the reindeer’s name that comes after Blizzard, Gabe?”
Despite his excellent memory, Bo Zo was the only name that sprang to mind.
* * *
GUN MONOPOLIZED KATHERINE’S attention the rest of the day. While Gabe chased two energetic redheads he hadn’t a prayer of catching, his father and the redheads’ mother talked, laughed, and had a wonderful time...the wonderful time he, in fact, had planned to have himself.
But Andy and Abby had other ideas for him. He’d brought them to the North Pole and Santa’s workshop and they wanted him to see every Christmasy inch of it with them. When he suggested that, of course, they’d want their mother to see it, too, they reminded him she had taken one look at the authentic one-and-only North Pole Santa’s workshop Santa Claus and remarked, “Nice suit. Wonder where he rented it.” Oh, no, the twins assured Gabe. She would only keep them from having fun.
So while Gabe was dragged, like a dog on a leash, from Santa’s house to the Jack Jingle Theater to the reindeer corral to the post office to the World of Christmas Gift Shop and through every other imaginable place Abby or Andy could think to go in and out of, Gun and Katherine lingered in the warmth of Mother Hubbard’s Kitchen, enjoying a cup of coffee and each other’s conversation. While Gabe pretended to know elf names and reindeer games, he imagined Gun spinning his wildly romantic and greatly exaggerated tales of life as a private investigator. And it didn’t help that every time he saw Katherine, she was either smiling, laughing or listening intently in response to whatever Gun was saying.
But then, suddenly, things began to look up. When one of Santa’s denim-clad helpers—not an elf, because, as Andy had previously reminded Gabe, elves wore green—announced it was time for “elfin training” and took responsibility for herding the twins into Santa’s house, Gabe saw his opportunity. The air was getting colder, the sky grayer, when he finally located Katherine, sitting alone and sipping coffee in the Jack Spratt Bake Shop. “Hi,” he said. “The twins are learning to be elves. I hope that’s okay.”
“As long as they’re not learning to be imps, I think we’re safe.” Her smile made him thank whatever kind Fates had decreed the sweet curve of her mouth. “Gun went to check on the weather. He said he didn’t like the looks of that sky.”
Gabe waved away any threat. “Tonight’s the tree-trimming party. A little snow isn’t going to stop that.”
“Andy and Abby are really looking forward to making paper chains and decorating a real tree. They’re having a wonderful time here, Gabe.”
He started to ask her how she knew, since she had barely seen them in the past couple of hours, but she was smiling still, and he didn’t want to ruin it. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with Dad. If I’d known he wouldn’t entertain himself, I wouldn’t have invited him to come along.” Under the circumstances, Gabe decided, he could stretch the truth a little. “He says he’s lonely, and I felt sorry for him. But if I’d had any idea he was going to bore you to flinders, well, I’d have left him home with a clear conscience.”
Katherine took a sip of coffee. “That’s funny,” she said. “Gun said if it wasn’t for him agreeing at the last minute to be the pilot, you’d have had to cancel the trip.”
Gabe sighed, wondering if he could retroactively put Gun in the rest home for aging detectives. “He probably followed up that comment by telling you I have a perfectly valid private pilot’s license, which has never done anything except gather dust in the bottom of my sock drawer.”
“Actually, he said you keep it tucked in with your underwear.”
Gabe dropped his head on his arms, but when he heard her soft laughter, he straightened.
“What he told me, Gabe, was that you got the license because you wanted to prove you could, but decided afterwards that you didn’t like flying and put it away.”
“I don’t mind flying solo so much,” Gabe explained, at the insistence of his ego. “I just have a little problem piloting other people. Being responsible for someone else is a lot different than just taking responsibility for me.”
“Really?” she agreed with a wry smile. “He said that about you, too.”
“What? That I can’t handle responsibility?”
“No, he said you take it very seriously.”
“Oh.” Gabe studied her thoughtfully. “What else has he been telling you about me?”
“Do you want the unabridged list, or just the highlights?”
Gabe was immediately ashamed of himself for feeling even a moment’s jealousy of the time his dad had spent with Katherine. Gun had obviously spent the time talking about what a great guy his son was. Following quickly on that thought was the realization of all the embarrassing details Gun could have—and probably had—told this woman. “Please tell me he didn’t share the rosebud story,” Gabe asked, without any real hope.
“I thought that one was very romantic. No one’s ever risked hard labor just to spell out my name in rosebuds. I hope little Rosalinda was appropriately impressed.”
“She stayed home from school that day and never even saw my masterpiece. I spent two years working after school and Saturdays to pay back the florist for the roses I beheaded. He was more than repaid, believe me.”
“Gun said he thought it an excellent lesson for you in the perils of thievery.”
“Well, I still stand by my original reasoning that if they grow back, it isn’t stealing.” He cupped his hands around hers, there on Jack Spratt’s table, and leaned forward. “I’m sorry you’ve had to listen to Dad’s assorted stories of my illustrious childhood. I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”
“Please don’t apologize. You don’t know how happy I am to have the means to blackmail you.”
Gabe tried to look as dismayed as possible while holding her hand. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, yes, I would. I’m already looking forward to it with unflattering relish.”
He closed his eyes. “He surely didn’t tell you about the relish trays.”
She nodded. “Right down to the centerpiece tub of ‘passion dip.’ I think if you’d been a little older, he would have encouraged you to market the idea.”
�
�That was only in my young-guy stage of development. I have matured.”
“I know. He told me about your last birthday party, too, when the cops came.”
“That party was five years ago,” Gabe said in hurried self-defense. “And it was right after my divorce, and—” He stopped. “I suppose you’re fully informed on the details of that, too?”
Katherine finally looked a little less amused than before. “He just said you married someone you’d dated for years and that you had a reasonably amicable divorce six months after the ceremony.”
“Well, at least he didn’t outline the terms of the settlement...did he?”
She shook her head, her hair swinging forward to brush her cheeks. “He skipped that and went straight to the birthday party.”
“Well, no matter what he said. I’m sure it was greatly exaggerated. There was no need to call the cops just because—” Realizing this story wasn’t going to enhance her opinion of him, Gabe changed the subject in midsentence.
“I wanted to spend more time with you on this trip,” he said. “Maybe tonight, after the tree-trimming, we can...you and I can take a walk...or something.”
Katherine gave him one of her award-winning smiles. He looked into her eyes and decided this trip was going so much better than he’d planned.
Then Gun stomped in to tell them the cold front had dipped farther south than predicted and they had somewhere in the neighborhood of two hours to fly out or get stranded in the blizzard sweeping toward the North Pole.
* * *
“IT’S NOT SNOWING.” Abby pressed her face to the window of the cab. “See? There’s not a blizzard.”
“There hasn’t been one itsy, bitsy snowflake since we left Santa’s workshop.” Andy hunkered down next to Katherine, his arms crossed, his lower lip extended in a full pout, his narrowed gaze searing a hole in the back of Gabe’s neck.
Gabe was tired. He was tired of being patient. He was tired of traveling. He was tired of sitting in a seat that was either behind or in front of the one in which Katherine was sitting. But most of all, he was tired of explaining to two overstimulated, whiny and disappointed seven-year-olds that just because it was not snowing where they were now, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a blizzard where they had been earlier.
“You promised, Gabe.” Abby flounced away from the window and leaned forward so that he could hear her. “You promised we’d see Rudolph.”
“I wanted to see Rudolph.” Andy tossed his petulant complaint toward Gabe’s other ear. “And the real Santa. You said the real Santa would be there and he wasn’t. It was just another guy in a red suit.”
“Andy,” Katherine murmured quietly. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”
“But I’m mad, Mom. Gabe said we’d find Santa Claus and he said we’d get to go out and cut down a real tree and he said we’d get to make paper chains and stuff to put on it and now we don’t get to and it’s not even snowing!”
“I know,” Katherine said patiently.
“Yeah.” Abby slumped back to join in the airing of grievances. “Gabe made us leave Santa’s house before we ever even learnt how to be elves!”
“Learned,” Katherine said, her tone still soft and soothing. “That one elf... What was her name?”
“Dopey,” Andy muttered, and Katherine hurried on with her attempt to comfort.
“Well, whatever her name is, she gave you each a Santa hat to bring home, didn’t she? That was nice.”
“No, it wasn’t, Mom. Her name was Kerri and she wasn’t a real elf. She was just a helper. Besides, Gabe already bought us Santa hats in the gift shop.”
“Well, then you have two apiece, don’t you?” There was an edge of impatience in her tone that time. Just an edge, but somehow it made Gabe feel a little better. He thought he’d feel a whole lot better if she’d just tell them to shut up and be done with it. He knew she wouldn’t, knew he didn’t really want her to. He even knew that if she did, he’d have an immediate paradigm shift and feel sympathetic toward the kids and irritated with her. They were children. They were disappointed. And in their minds, it had to be someone’s fault.
So, okay, Gabe would be the fall guy. He’d listen to their whiny voices and bear the indignity of having saved them from spending Christmas in a hotel room. Even if the blizzard turned out to be just another heavy snow in the Adirondacks, the decision to leave when they had had been the right one. Even if Abby and Andy were mad at him. Even if they didn’t believe him about the snow.
“I wanted to be an elf.”
“I wanted to see Rudolph.”
Gabe just wanted to go home. He thought wistfully of Gun, who’d taken another cab. Katherine had urged him to go with his dad, told him she and the twins didn’t need an escort to their door. But he couldn’t do that. He’d set up their expectations, and it wasn’t fair to ask Katherine to bear the brunt of their disappointment. He’d see them home and into bed. Then he’d kiss Katherine good-night and head home to bed himself. And tomorrow, all would be forgiven. All would be well. Tomorrow, they’d like him and he’d like them again.
* * *
“GABE PROMISED, MOM,” Andy said. “He promised we’d find Santa Claus at the North Pole.”
Katherine tried to hold on to her patience, but it was getting harder by the minute. She was sorry she’d ever agreed to this trip. But then, she hadn’t agreed, had she? Gabe had just pushed his plan on her, the same way he’d pushed this whole stupid Santa search, the same way he’d pushed the dog and cat into her life. “There was a very nice man playing Santa Claus, Andy,” she said, revealing none of her exasperation. “He even had a real beard.”
“But he had bad breath, Mom. He smelled like fish guts.”
“Andy! I don’t want to hear anything more about this. You knew better than to believe you were going to find the real Santa Claus at the North Pole...or anywhere else you’ve looked. It’s not fair to blame Gabe because you wanted to believe something that isn’t true, now is it?”
“No, Mom.”
Katherine looked at Abby with the same question.
“Gabe shouldn’t have told us there was a Santa Claus when there wasn’t,” Abby concluded. “And he shouldn’t have said there was a blizzard when it wasn’t even snowing. He shouldn’t have done that.”
“I think it was very nice of him to want to take you in an airplane to a place you’ve never been, just because he thought you’d have a good time. And you did have a good time. It isn’t Gabe’s fault the weather turned bad.”
“But, Mom, it isn’t snowing!” Andy scooted restlessly on the seat. “We could’ve stayed and decorated the tree and had all the things in Abby’s picture just like Gabe said we would and now we can’t and it’s not fair!”
“What picture?” Katherine asked, not sure whether this was an imagined part of the day’s disappointments, or something else.
“The picture Abby drew of what we want for Christmas. We gave it to Gabe with five dollars and he said he’d get it for us.”
Katherine caught the look of protest Gabe tossed toward the back seat of the cab, but he didn’t utter a word of denial. “What was in the picture?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Andy said morosely. “It was just a dumb old picture.”
“It wasn’t neither dumb.” Abby made a face at her brother in defense of her art. “It was a picture of our family, Mom. Me and Andy and you and Sparky, and The Real Cat Matilda, and a house, and a Christmas tree, and cookies we made and stockings we hung on the fireplace and a whole week with our daddy.”
The last was slipped in innocently, but Katherine not only caught her son’s quick, cautious glance and her daughter’s accusing glare at the man sitting in front of her, she saw the stiffening of Gabe’s shoulders and knew the truth of the matter. Gabe had set her children up for a disappointment much g
reater than she’d anticipated.
Promising to deliver Santa Claus was one thing. Katherine hadn’t liked the idea, but she’d been teaching Abby and Andy the difference between fantasy and reality since they were old enough to talk. She knew they had enough grasp of the truth to counteract whatever nonsense they heard about a silly fat man in a red suit. Until just now, she’d felt reasonably secure, if not enthusiastic, about letting them have fun with the idea of looking for Santa Claus, discovering for themselves the truth of what she’d told them. But suddenly she saw the whole “adventure” from a new and dangerous angle.
A picture-perfect Christmas was logical at seven, and it was just as easy to add a “daddy” to the picture as to leave him out. But once he was crayoned in, added like a place setting at the family table, he couldn’t be taken out. There would always be that empty place, the reminder of something broken or lost and forever after missing from the table. Gabe might not have—probably had not, in fact—spoken the words, but his actions had fed her children’s belief that he could be the daddy they wanted.
And she was guilty, too. Guilty of wanting something more than her original bargain. She’d promised her children before their birth that no father would have any claim on them, that he would not exist as a presence in their lives and would therefore never have the power to betray them. Not as her father had betrayed her.
Until Gabe, until that kiss under the mistletoe last Christmas, it had been an easy promise to keep. But since then, she’d been guilty of imagining her life with him, imagining she could share herself, her life, her children. So, yes, she was guilty, too. Guilty of letting the twins watch as she fell into the trap of believing in something—and someone—who was too good to be true.
But tonight would be the end of it. For her children’s sake...and her own...tonight would be the end.
Christmas Wishlist Page 17
