A Boy's Christmas Wish

by Patricia Johns

  “Right?” Dan said.

  “Where did you find this?” she asked.

  Ralph had made a list of supplies for the store years ago, and at the end was a heartfelt note.

  Smart and beautiful—I’m one lucky man. I’d marry you all over again, Elinor. Happy anniversary. Tonight, I cook. Ralph

  “It was in the desk in the back room,” Dan said. “I thought Granny might want it.”

  “I’m sure she will!” Beth shook her head. “Thank you for this.”

  Luke took up a pounding rhythm, and Dan gestured with his chin toward the outside door. Beth took his hint and they stepped outside. It was colder on the porch, but at least the noise wasn’t quite so rattling. Dan grabbed his coat on his way outside and put it on but didn’t bother doing up the zipper. Beth shrugged her coat up higher around her ears.

  “He’s having fun,” Beth said with a small smile. Dan glanced back toward the store.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty excited. I’m trying to get him to see what we can build together.” Dan felt his smile slip. “I know this is insensitive of me. I’m trying to get my son excited about the very thing you grew up with.”

  “And why shouldn’t you?” Beth replied. “It was great. I used to come down here after school and my dad would let me sit on the stool behind the counter and talk to people. He’d sit in the back room with his computer and get stuck into whatever chapter he was working on.”

  Her empathy was a relief. She seemed to have gotten better at that over the last five years.

  “I loved it,” she went on. “My brother and I hated doing the real work—putting out the latest newspapers and getting the crates ready for milk delivery...that kind of thing. But it was good for us. We learned how to do a job right the first time.”

  Beth turned around, looking at the faded sign overhead that read North Fork Corner Store. A few snowflakes swirled in the air, spinning past them like fluffy parachutes.

  “I’m hoping Luke will have some memories like yours,” Dan said, clearing his throat. “It’s a really great way to grow up—contributing to something. Knowing you belong.”

  “Until you don’t.”

  Dan heard the reproach in those words. Maybe that empathy was in shorter supply than he thought.

  “I’d be stupid to pass up a chance like this, Beth.”

  “I know...” She shook her head. “I’m not talking about the store. I’m talking about this town. I didn’t think that five years away would change so much. Or maybe it isn’t North Fork. Maybe it’s me. I don’t fit here the same way.”

  Her blue gaze met his, and her breath hung in the air in front of her, a snowflake clinging to one strand of hair. Why did she have to be so beautiful still? It wasn’t fair.

  “Give it time,” he said. “You’ll settle back in.”

  “Maybe,” Beth agreed. “I had a good talk with Dad about Linda.”

  “Oh?” Dan eyed her curiously. That conversation had been a long time coming.

  “He admitted that Linda stopped him from spending time alone with me,” she said. “He said she felt left out if she wasn’t in the middle of everything.”

  “And he acknowledged that?” Dan asked dubiously. Rick had always been rather blind to Linda’s shortcomings.

  “Finally.” She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s something.”

  “It must have felt good to talk that through,” he said.

  She tilted her head to one side. “Yes and no. Things had to be said, but it’s too late to fix anything.”

  The wind picked up and flipped the corner of Beth’s coat so that the side of her shirt-clad stomach was exposed. She shivered, and Dan stepped closer. He tugged her coat straight again. He should have stepped back, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it—not when he stood so near to her that he could feel the warmth of her belly against his taut stomach. So he held on to the sides of her jacket against the wind’s gusts and tugged her closer still.

  There had been a time when standing together against the elements was natural, but now it felt forbidden. He’d kissed her before, and he’d said he’d control himself. She wasn’t his to shelter anymore, even though he had a hard time curbing that instinct with her. He’d darn well have to.

  “Thank you...” She shivered again, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Better?” he murmured.

  She nodded, then smiled ruefully. “I’m regretting not investing in that maternity jacket now.”

  “I’ll bet.” Funny—he liked sharing these pregnancy problems with Beth. He’d missed this before Luke was born, and being here for Beth almost seemed to be a second chance. Except this isn’t my baby, and she isn’t my girlfriend, either...

  “Beth,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”

  “More or less.” Those dark blue eyes met his again, and he had to hold himself back from reaching out and touching her.

  “If you ever need anything,” he said, “I’m here for you. And I mean that. Anything.”

  He reached up to brush a snowflake from her hair, and he caught her gaze—the big blue eyes that had always been able to capture him. He could see both the vulnerability and the sweetness that had always been there.

  He wished he could pull her closer, block out the last of that cold wind and do what he’d always done before—lower his lips over hers and kiss her so thoroughly that he left her weak in the knees.

  Her lips parted as if she were about to say something, and Dan swallowed with the effort of not kissing her.

  It was only then that he noticed that the hammering inside had stopped, and the door suddenly flung open. Dan took an instinctive step away from Beth and the cold flooded around him once more.

  “Hey, Beth?” Luke began, then he stopped short. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, son,” Dan said, clearing his throat. “We were just talking. What do you need?”

  “I wanted to ask Beth what happens if I forget my lines at the pageant,” Luke said.

  “Um...” Beth licked her lips and looked slightly flustered. Dan couldn’t help the grin that warmed his face. So she’d been caught up in that moment, too. At least he wasn’t the only one.

  “Are you going to be there to see it?” Luke pressed.

  “Of course,” Beth said. “And I’ll tell you what—I’ll sit in the front row and remind you of your lines if you forget.”

  “You will?” Luke asked, relief flooding his features. That was all it took? Why hadn’t Dan thought of that?

  “If your dad doesn’t mind,” Beth added hastily.

  He was to blame for this one anyway. Neither of them were thinking straight, but even so, she’d just done the impossible and calmed Luke’s stage fright. How could he refuse her?

  “Yeah, of course,” Dan said. “It’ll be fine, Luke. See? I told you.”

  Luke disappeared inside, and the sound of hammering started up again. Dan heaved a sigh. If his son hadn’t clattered out when he had... No, he’d already made a fool of himself once.

  “I should get back,” Beth said, taking another step away from him. He wished she’d stay for a few more minutes, but it was better that she left. He knew what he wanted with her, and he needed a few minutes alone to quell those urges.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “I’ll see you.”

  Dan nodded and lifted his hand in a wave. She headed toward the street, her steps careful and steady. The snowfall began to thicken, and he watched her go for another few seconds before he turned back toward the store.

  New starts—that was what this was all about, wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to go back to old habits, especially when those habits couldn’t be good for Luke. His son had to be the priority—there was no question. If only his emotions would catch up with his reason.

 
CHAPTER TEN

  BETH’S HEART FLUTTERED in her chest as she walked the three blocks home. There had been something between them in that moment when Danny caught her eye—a charged connection that was nothing like the sizzle they’d shared five years ago. This was different...deeper, less demanding, but most definitely there.

  Would he have kissed her again had Luke not interrupted them? They’d already done this once, and they’d both acknowledged that it wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t be the woman he wanted, and she couldn’t trust him. Yet, despite all those excellent reasons to keep their distance, they’d still been caught in a moment when she’d expected him to kiss her again. The question was, would she have allowed him?

  “Of course not,” she said aloud. She and Danny were very clear on where things stood. Nothing had changed, except they were obviously still attracted to each other. Which was normal, wasn’t it?

  She was trying to make this logical, because she needed it to be logical. She had a baby on the way, a heartbroken father, a grandmother with dementia... It was all she could handle right now, and her conflicting feelings for Danny were just too much. The baby shifted in her belly, and she sighed. She had her priorities right here—her daughter.

  When Beth got home, she found Granny asleep in her chair in the living room, an infomercial playing on TV. Beth got herself a bowl of soup and a sandwich, and after she had finished eating and cleaning up, there was a knock on the front door. Beth went back into the living room—Granny didn’t even stir; her soft snoring continued. Beth tugged her sweater closer around her and answered the door.

  Linda stood on the step, her straightened, ash-blond hair ruffling in the winter wind. She wore a green parka and white leather gloves, and while this house used to be her home, she no longer belonged here. She looked foreign. Uncomfortable. Beth had to curb the urge to simply slam the door shut again.

  This was supposed to be over, but there she stood—Linda, in the flesh.

  “Hello,” Beth said curtly.

  “My goodness...look at you.” Linda smiled tentatively. “Your dad told me about the baby, of course, but... Hello, Beth.”

  It was the exact response that Beth expected from her image-concerned ex-stepmother. Linda was an expert on proprieties, including when babies should be entering the scene. Beth had landed on the wrong side of decency—at least in Linda’s view.

  “Yes, definitely pregnant,” Beth said with a cool smile. “You dodged out in time. No reflection on you at all.”

  Linda’s smile slipped. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

  “Thank you.” Beth knew the proper responses just as well as her stepmother did, and they could do this all day. But it was cold, and Beth tugged her sweater a bit closer.

  “Uh—is your father around?” Linda asked.

  “No, he’s out.” Job hunting, most likely, but Beth wouldn’t tell her that. Let her assume that Rick had a new lineup of eligible women after him. That would serve Linda right. Except Beth was supposed to be glad that Linda was out of the picture, so she knew that this desire to see Linda wounded wasn’t right or defensible.

  “Could I come in?” Linda asked.

  Beth sighed and stepped back. “Sure. Granny’s asleep, so...”

  “Oh...” Linda lowered her voice and went in. Linda seemed bigger inside the house, somehow, like she’d gained power by crossing the threshold.

  “Come through to the kitchen,” Beth said, and Linda followed her. Once in the kitchen, she pulled out the chair she’d always sat in at the kitchen table, then took off her jacket. There was something too familiar in the way Linda moved about the house. It was understandable, of course—Linda had lived here for twenty years—but still, it rankled Beth.

  “So how are you doing?” Linda asked.

  “Fine.” Beth nodded slowly. “And you?”

  “Not great,” Linda said. “This divorce has been difficult.”

  Beth hadn’t expected that level of honesty, and she eyed Linda warily. Why were they doing this? Why was Linda even here? If she’d come for sympathy over her failed marriage, she’d definitely come to the wrong place. There was a beat or two of silence.

  “Your dad is really excited about your baby,” Linda offered.

  “You and Dad keep up, do you?” Beth asked woodenly. Her father had told her as much, but Beth was feeling difficult.

  “We talk.” Linda nodded. “He’s looking forward to being a grandfather.”

  That was more than her father had said to her on the subject. So far, her dad had worried about money, tried to convince her to get child support and suggested she put her feet up. But any kind of excitement about his granddaughter had never been evident.

  “Linda, why are you here?” Beth asked at last.

  “Well, two reasons, actually,” Linda replied. “I have something to give to your father, and I thought it was only proper to do it in person. And I have a baby gift for you.”

  Only proper—that had been Linda to the bone. Everything she did followed proper etiquette, and she’d required the same formal perfection from Beth. Beth used to drive her stepmother crazy by flouting the rules, but she’d learned as much as she’d scorned.

  Linda reached into her purse and pulled out two envelopes. One, the smaller of the two, she passed to Beth.

  “It’s a gift card,” Linda said. “I hope that’s all right. I didn’t know what you needed, and I thought it would come in handy. I chose a gender-neutral card since ultrasounds can be wrong.”

  “Thank you,” Beth said. She didn’t open it, and she nodded toward the other envelope. “I hope you aren’t taking my father to court. You’ve already cleaned him out.”

  Linda’s face colored. “No, I’m not. I’m returning half the investments.”

  “You’re—” Beth stared at Linda in shock. “Really?”

  “Yes. It only seemed—” Linda didn’t finish.

  Proper. Of course. Beth had heard that over and over again, but mostly it had seemed like an excuse to be hard on people. The strict expectations of everyone, in every circumstance. This time, it had seemed to come from a different place inside Linda, a softer place.

  “That’s very decent of you,” Beth said. “Thank you. He needs it.”

  “Well...” Linda licked her lips. “I’m not the complete ogre you think I am.”

  Beth sighed. “Do you want some tea while you wait?”

  If Linda had come with a peace offering like that, then perhaps she could be offered some small refreshment.

  “Thank you, I would.” Linda smoothed her gloves on her lap. “If it isn’t too much bother.”

  Beth raised one eyebrow, then flicked the switch on the electric kettle. Then she took a seat opposite Linda.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something?” Beth asked.

  “Sure.” Linda’s expression seemed a little wary, perhaps expecting a clever trap.

  “Why did you marry my dad?” Beth asked.

  Linda blinked, dropped her gaze to her lap, then looked up with tears misting her eyes. “I loved him.”

  “Was it his career?” she pressed. “You always were one of his biggest fans.”

  “I loved his writing,” Linda replied, “but I loved him more. I encouraged him to write because he was so good at it, and because it fulfilled him. I never wanted to come between him and his passion.”

  Apparently, she didn’t mind coming between him and his daughter, though.

  “But Michael and I were also in the picture,” Beth pressed, not overcome with sympathy. “Two kids, my dad had lost the love of his life... Why take that on?”

  Linda pursed her lips. “I thought I could do it. Apparently, I was wrong.”

  “Do what, though?” Beth asked, because she was honestly curious. Why had Linda even bo
thered with a man who had two kids if she wasn’t the nurturing sort?

  “I thought that I had something to offer,” Linda said slowly. “I might not have been your mother, but I did have life experience and knowledge that might benefit a child. I thought that if your father and I loved each other enough, it might make up for other things.”

  Other things... “You didn’t think you should love his children, too?”

  “But I did.” Linda didn’t even blink.

  “You loved me?” Beth asked incredulously.

  “I tried to.” Linda shrugged faintly. “And I did. I suppose it depends on your definition of love. If you’re asking if I felt warm and fuzzy feelings toward you, well, no. You hated me too much for that. But I did everything else. I drove you to friends’ homes, I taught you manners and tried to point out clothes that would look good on you. And I stayed. No matter how much you hated me, I stayed.”

  She had indeed stayed—her presence had been like concrete in Beth’s life. Linda hadn’t budged for anything. Until now.

  “It wasn’t enough, though,” Beth said. “I needed someone who could feel something warm and fuzzy for me.”

  “Nothing would have been enough,” Linda replied with a shake of her head. “I wasn’t your mother. Simple as that. Your father thought that me being a woman would give you something important, especially at your vulnerable age. You were on the cusp of womanhood without anyone to show you the way.”

  “There is one more thing I’ve been wondering about lately,” Beth said slowly. “I want to know why you hated letting me be alone with my own father.”

  Linda was silent for a moment. She picked up her gloves, then smoothed them over her knee again. She seemed to be ordering her thoughts—or evading. Beth wasn’t sure which. But then Linda said, “You were sixteen when you asked your father to take you and your brother out for dinner without me. You asked him upstairs in the hallway.” She glanced toward the staircase. “You thought I was asleep, and you told him that all you wanted was to have it like it used to be for one evening. As a gift to you. A night without me.”

  That hadn’t been quite the sentiment...or maybe it was.