“She needs you,” Jason said to Chuck.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Chuck’s expression, looking up at his crying wife, was full of frustration and yearning.
Jason put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve got so much here, man. You should fight for it.”
And then his eyes met Erica’s, and they turned as one toward the door, grabbed their coats off the banister railing and walked out of the house.
“Wow,” Erica said once they were outside. “Pretty emotional.”
“Very.” It was natural to take her arm on the icy walkway. “I don’t know if you’ll get that dresser or not.”
“I hope not. I hope they work things out and get the chance to be parents.”
“Me, too.” He held the truck door open for her and helped her to climb in. And meanwhile, he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to her about what he needed to, and this was his last chance. Once they got home, it would be craziness, Papa and Ruth and the twins. A full house and a lively one, and he liked that, but it didn’t allow time for quiet discussion.
Quiet persuasion.
For that, he knew exactly where he needed to take her.
* * *
Erica was so lost in thought, worrying about Chuck and Jeannine, that she didn’t notice the direction the truck was going until it stopped. In the middle of a parking lot full of cars, apparently in the middle of a field.
“Where are we... Oh, wow!” She stared down at a wonderland of colored and white lights. “What is it?”
“It’s the Mistletoe Display. Will you walk through with me?”
Her breath seemed to leave her chest. Why had he brought her here?
Against her will, her heart was warming to Jason, and maybe, just maybe, he was feeling similarly toward her. Why else would he have brought her to such a romantic place?
“We don’t have to. If you’d rather get home to the twins—”
“No, no. I...I’d love to.”
They walked down the path to a ticket shed, and he insisted on buying her ticket. “My idea, my treat.”
Definitely date-like.
They strolled through winding paths, stopping to admire the light-made scenes scattered along the way. Here was portrayed a group of children carrying gifts; there, a family building a snowman. A brass ensemble played “Angels We Have Heard on High,” and no sooner had those sounds faded than a quartet of singers in old-fashioned costumes sang “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” Pastor Wayne was at a wooden stand selling hot chocolate and passing out invitations to the church’s Christmas Eve service. Jason stopped, assured the pastor he’d be there and bought them both cups of hot chocolate, complete with peppermint-stick stirrers.
It was lovely and romantic, especially when Jason draped his scarf around her neck to keep her warmer.
“So, you’re probably wondering why I brought you here,” he said, sounding nervous.
“I wasn’t, but...is there a special reason?” Her heart leaped to her throat. Was he going to make some kind of declaration? They weren’t dating, although the things they’d been through together had made her feel closer to him than to anyone she’d dated. Not that there had been a whole lot of boyfriends in her life.
“There’s something I want to tell you. Ask you.” He led her to a bench beside a snowy lane, a little off from where most people were walking. “I...I’m going to Philadelphia tomorrow.”
Her heart sank a little. She had grown accustomed to having Jason around, and she’d miss him if he left. But of course, they weren’t really accountable to each other. “How long will you be gone?”
“Just a couple of days, three at the outside. I have to testify in the case that put me on leave.”
“Okay.” He’d told her a little bit about why he was on administrative leave, something to do with a corrupt partner. “Will this fix the problem?”
“It’s a start.” He took her hand. “You might be upset with me for what I did, but...how would you and the twins like to come with me?”
Erica’s head spun. “Come with you? But...why?”
Her mind spun with possibilities. Was this a romantic proposition? Did he think she was easy and that, away from Papa’s watchful eye, they could have a fling? But if that were the case, why bring the twins?
“I made an appointment with a specialist,” he said, looking hard at her as if to see her reaction.
“What kind?” She wasn’t following.
“A pediatrician who’s, like, world renowned for helping delayed babies catch up.”
Her jaw about dropped as emotions warred within her, chief among them an absurd sense of disappointment. He didn’t want anything romantic, and this wasn’t a date. “I told you I wanted to do this my own way. And I can’t afford a famous specialist. You know that.” She stood up.
“No, no, sit down.” He tugged her hand, pulling her back down to the bench. “I just thought... I was talking about my visit to my buddy who has a child with Down syndrome, and he was telling me about everything they’re doing for his daughter...you know, Philly has world-class hospitals and so I thought...”
“You thought you’d go over my head and get medical treatment for my boys?”
“You don’t understand. It’s so hard to get an appointment with her, but she had a cancellation. So...I went ahead and did it.” He paused. “It’s the day after tomorrow.”
She stared at him as her head spun. Partly from his high-handedness and partly from fear. If a specialist wanted to look at the twins’ medical records, she didn’t have them.
“I wasn’t planning to do this, Erica, but when it came up, I couldn’t help but think of the twins. I care about the little guys. And about you.”
“No.” She was shaking her head before having even formulated a response. “Just...no. I don’t want to visit some strange doctor, all the way over in Philadelphia, only to hear about treatments I can’t afford in a place I can’t get to—”
“My friend says lots of people come and consult with her and then do treatment in their own towns. And as for insurance...when I made the appointment, I explained that you didn’t have coverage or the money to pay privately, and they sent some paperwork. The receptionist said it’s not complicated at all, and that Dr. Chen works with a lot of...of low income patients. Don’t you see, Erica? This way, you won’t have to sell me the farm to get help for the boys. You can keep it for them.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think as the hot chocolate curdled in her stomach.
He hadn’t brought her here for a date. He’d brought her here to butter her up so he could find out the truth.
“No.” She shook her head. “No. I’m not ready to take that step.”
“You won’t even do it for the twins?” His voice held a touch of censure.
He thought she was a bad mother.
She stared down at her denim-clad knees as waves of confusion and shame passed over her. She was a bad mother. Not fit for the wonderful gift Kimmie had given her.
Jason reached an arm around her shoulders, gave her a quick couple of pats and then pulled his arm away. “Look, I’m sorry to spring this on you, and I know you’d rather have time to think about it. You’re a great mother. You want to take time and figure out what’s best for your kids. You like to plan things out, and here I’m just throwing this at you.”
You’re a great mother. She looked over to see if he was mocking her, but his face was serious, earnest.
“For all kinds of reasons, I’d like for you to go. Mostly for the twins and the specialist, of course, but there’s a Christmas party...” He trailed off.
“A Christmas party?” She couldn’t keep up with the way his mind was working.
“For my department. It’s at the home of my good friends, who hav
e little kids, so you could bring the twins. We could even stay with them.” He paused. “I’d really like for you to meet them.”
She felt her forehead wrinkle. What was he saying?
That he wanted her to meet his friends because he was serious about her? Or that he wanted her to come to Philly for a fling?
He seemed to read her mind. “They have a huge farmhouse. You and the twins would have a big room and your own bathroom. I’d bunk down on the couch in the den.”
Now she was thoroughly confused. “Do you... Why are you asking me to come? Besides just being kind about the twins?”
He dug at the snowy ground with the toe of his boot. “Look,” he said, “I’m bad at this stuff. I’m bad at talking to people, working things out. I’m bad at, well, relationships, but...I’m trying to improve. Especially now that I have a reason to.” He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his cheek on his hand, facing her. “I really like you, Erica.”
Her heart pounded like a drum.
He was holding out a chance, however small, at everything she wanted: connection, someone to value her, a good family.
She couldn’t have even a chance at that if she didn’t take him up on what he’d offered, the trip to Philadelphia and the appointment with a specialist for the twins.
She looked up at the stars, sparkling in the cold air. Should I go, Lord?
The very question reminded her how much in the Christmas story depended on following a star, on faith.
Jason had overstepped by making the appointment, for sure. And figuring out how to manage that appointment without revealing Kimmie’s secret was going to be a challenge.
Not to mention that any kind of a relationship with Jason was out of the question, as long as she was withholding the truth about the twins. How could she judge him for being a little pushy, when she herself was lying to him?
She glanced up at the stars again, took a couple of breaths and then met Jason’s eyes. “Thank you for the offer and for what you’re doing for the twins and me. We...we’ll go.”
His eyes lit and he pulled her into a spontaneous hug. A hug that went on a little longer than something friendly.
She pulled back a little and looked at him, her heart fluttering like a startled bird in a cage.
His eyes went dark with some unreadable emotion. He cupped her chin in his hand and studied her face.
“You are so beautiful,” he said. And then he pressed his lips to hers.
All logic slipped away, replaced by almost-complete feeling and warmth and care. Almost complete, not fully, because something nagged at the edge of her melting consciousness: this isn’t going to work, because he doesn’t know the truth about the twins.
Chapter Seven
The small box was sitting on the table beside the door, where Papa always tossed the mail he didn’t have time to sort.
Jason spotted it as he came whistling down the stairs. Something compelled him to take a closer look.
He could hear Erica talking to Papa in the kitchen. “No, no phone calls about the dog yet,” Papa was saying.
“I think his foot is getting better,” Erica replied. “Look, he chewed the bandage off again.”
“It looks okay, but I don’t think that fur is growing back. He’ll always have a scar.” There was the homey sound of dishes clinking and water running.
The box was addressed to him, in Renea’s handwriting.
He should probably just leave it there, get on with loading up the car. They needed to head out so they could get to Brian and Carla’s house and settle Erica and the twins before he hustled to meet with the lawyers.
But it would nag at him; he knew it. So he set his suitcase down and carried the little box upstairs.
In his room, with the door closed, he opened the box up, feeling as if a viper might jump out. Renea had been furious about their breakup even though she’d instigated it, and the sight of her handwriting brought her angry feelings and words back to him. His sense of dread increased as he used a pocketknife to slit through the tape.
Inside was a small envelope and a wad of newspaper. Cowardly, he opened the wad first.
There was the engagement ring he’d bought her.
Okay, that wasn’t a problem, really. He hadn’t wanted it back, hadn’t wanted the reminder of his failure, but he was getting past that now. Things were new and promising in his life, he reminded himself.
The thought of kissing Erica made him sit down on his bed and close his eyes, still clutching the ring and the note in his hands. She’d been hesitant but then so sweet and giving as he’d held her. And although he’d kept the kiss short and respectful, he had seen the emotion in her eyes and he knew it had been reflected in his own.
She didn’t throw her kisses around and neither did he, these days. It meant something.
She was beginning to care for him, and that thought had filled him with way more happiness and joy than he’d had any right to expect.
He heard Erica trotting up the stairs, and then a minute later, something heavy bumping down. Erica must be dragging her suitcase down herself, and she shouldn’t be; he should be helping her. He ripped open the note.
I’ve lost weight and they want to put me in the clinic again. Haven’t been able to eat since we broke up. Can you get this ring resized down? Call me.
He looked at the ring, already the size of a child’s ring. The sight of it brought back the short two months of his engagement.
How he’d looked up some formula of how much an engagement ring should cost based on his salary and saved up that amount. How he’d consulted with his friends—clueless guys all—about what type of ring to buy. How she’d said yes, and instead of feeling happy, his heart had gone cold with the feeling of a cage door slamming shut.
And from then on, the whole relationship had gone downhill. She’d been discontented with the ring and with how he expressed, or didn’t express, his feelings for her. He’d tried to whip himself up into a proper type of enthusiasm for a groom-to-be, not helped by a few of his friends who viewed their wives as nags and marriage as a ball and chain. And others of his friends, the more serious ones, who thought he’d made the wrong choice of mate.
Most of all, there’d been the sinking realization that being involved with a man brought out Renea’s severe eating disorder. Although she’d hidden it before their engagement, she hadn’t been able to hide it after. Her parents had begged him to break it off with her so as not to complicate her recovery. He’d tried, but she was so fragile that it had never seemed like the right time.
When she’d gone into a rage one night and broken up with him, he’d taken it as a blessing, especially since his only feeling had been relief. And he’d held fast against Renea’s multiple attempts to get back together, each one ending in accusations that he had ruined her life.
He guessed the breakup had been fortunate. But had he changed any since then?
He didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s life the way he’d ruined Renea’s. And obviously, he knew nothing about choosing a mate; he’d gone solely for beauty with Renea, and he’d almost made a huge mistake.
Ruined his fiancée’s life.
Didn’t save his sister.
He stood and looked out the window. Erica and Papa were loading things into the back of the truck, talking and laughing.
It would be wrong to go forward and try to get something started with Erica. Yes, she was beautiful, but Renea had been, too.
Why on earth had he kissed Erica? More of the same poor choices?
She’s different, his heart cried as he trotted down the stairs double time, intent on setting right the wrong he’d committed. She’s a good person. Stable. Not hiding things.
Papa must have gone inside, but Erica was there beside the truck, her breath making steam
in the air in front of her beautiful face, a cap on her head unable to tame her red curls. Her cheeks were pink, and when she saw him, her eyes lit up.
“Hey.” He sounded abrupt and he knew it, but that was what he needed to be. Short. Abrupt. Not paying attention to how pretty she was or to the concern starting to appear in her green eyes.
“Listen,” he said quickly, “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. I want to apologize.”
She frowned, tilted her head. Opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again.
“I...I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea. I’m not... I’m not...” He trailed off, then forced himself to say it. “I’m really not up for dating or anything.”
She waved her hand, her eyes shuttered. “It’s fine. It was a romantic setting. Anyone could make a mistake like that.” She turned to lift a bag of baby supplies into the truck. “Or... Did you still want us to come with you? Because we don’t have to. Maybe it’s best if we don’t—”
“No, no. I want you to come. Gotta keep that appointment.”
“Right, the appointment.” Wrinkles appeared between her eyebrows and she frowned down at the ground. “But we could go another time. Get there another way. I don’t want to impose—”
“No imposition,” he said, trying to sound happy and hearty and like his heart wasn’t aching. “I’d welcome the company and we’re all set up.”
She looked at him, confusion clouding her eyes.
“It’s important for the twins. And that’s what friends do for each other, right?”
She swallowed and bit her lip and looked away.
All the work he’d done to convince her to trust him, gone.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I... Well, if you’re sure you want us to come, I’ll go get the twins.”
“I’ll help.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll bring them myself.” And she turned and went back into the house.
Loser. He was such a loser. She’d been happy, excited about the trip, and then he’d come down with his hurtful announcement. Now she was sad. And this trip across the state was going to be extremely awkward.
Secret Christmas Twins Page 9
