He gave Hank a credit card for the check, leaving an oversize tip as befitted the occasion and the fact that Hank had to work on Christmas Eve.
And then he ended up at church, even though he was an hour early for services.
It was where he probably should have been all along.
* * *
Erica carried the twins upstairs, her muscles aching, her mind and heart calling for rest. She’d stayed out all day on purpose, and it looked like her plan had worked; Jason’s truck wasn’t here. She wouldn’t have to see him, to say goodbye.
Saying goodbye to Papa and the twins would be hard enough.
She set Mikey down on the floor and placed a basket of colorful blocks in front of him. Then she fastened Teddy in the bouncy swing she’d found at the thrift store a few days ago, and right away, he began to babble and jump. His legs were getting stronger by the day.
“Ma-ma, Ma-ma,” he chortled, waving his arms.
She did a double take. Teddy had said a word. He’d called her Mama.
It was the first time. She knelt in front of him, laughing and crying at the same time. “Oh, honey, I’m not your mama. But what a big boy you are for saying it.”
“You are his mama, or the closest thing he’s got to one.” Papa Andy stood in the doorway.
She looked up at the old man who’d become so dear to her, and her heart twisted in her chest. “I guess I am. But that’s all going to change now.”
“Does it have to?”
She sat back and wrapped her arms around her upraised knees. “Jason’s going to report me to the local police. He said last night that I’d probably do jail time.” Which was terrifying, but even worse was the prospect of losing the twins forever.
“What a man says when he’s angry and what’s true can be two different things.”
Papa hadn’t heard the icy determination in Jason’s voice. “I hope you’re right about the jail time, but no one will disagree that he has more right to raise the twins. Along with you. You’re their closest relatives, whereas I...” She was a nobody.
“Something you need to know about Jason. He’s always seen things in black-and-white. I think he’s growing out of that, but...”
“I don’t.” Erica hugged her knees tighter. “He sees me as evil now. I’m on his bad list, and I don’t think there’s any chance of a change.”
“Huh.” Papa gestured toward Mikey. “That one might walk before he crawls. You’d best keep an eye on him.”
Erica turned to see Mikey next to Mistletoe, both little hands buried in the dog’s fur. He was trying to pull himself up to his feet, and it had to hurt poor Mistletoe, but the dog didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he tugged to the side a little as if he were trying to help Mikey to stand.
Erica pulled in a breath, her hand going to her heart. Was it possible to die of love?
“They grow fast,” Papa said, and paused. “Mind if I come in a minute?”
She gestured toward the rocking chair in the corner of the bedroom. “I’m going to start packing, but I’d love some company.”
“Where are you headed?”
She shook her head. “For the moment, to town. I lined up a room at the Evergreen Hotel.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Papa. “I’ll say goodbye as soon as I’ve packed. I’ll leave...” She stopped, swallowed hard. “If you can handle them, I’ll leave the twins here tonight.”
Papa leaned forward, elbows on knees. “You’re a pretty strong woman.”
“How do you figure?” So she wouldn’t have to focus solely on her misery, she knelt to pull her suitcase out from under the bed and opened it.
Inside were all her shorts and T-shirts. Arizona clothes. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they’d been what she put on every day she wasn’t working.
Maybe she’d end up going back there, get away from the cold. But the thought didn’t give her the least iota of happiness.
Restraining a sigh, she opened her drawerful of cold-weather clothes and started refolding them and placing them, carefully, on top of the summer things. If she focused, maybe she wouldn’t cry in front of Papa.
Mistletoe trotted over, toenails clicking on the wood floor, and nudged his shaggy head under her hand, whining faintly. Automatically, she tugged the dog against her leg, rubbing his back.
“It took a strong woman to care for your friend, sick with cancer. And then you drove her kids across the country, which couldn’t have been easy. You got them early intervention. You’ve made yourself a place in a brand-new community, even though you’ve got barely two nickels to rub together.”
“I had your help with that,” she said. “Thanks to you, I’ve had a place to stay and food to eat.” Honesty compelled her to add, “And it’s thanks to Jason that I got in to see the developmental specialist. I could never have done that on my own.”
Papa ignored her remarks. “It just surprises me, that’s all.”
“What surprises you?”
“That you’d give up so easily.”
She stared at him. “Give up? What do you...”
“You love those boys, don’t you?” In the midst of his wrinkled face, blue eyes shone out, bold and challenging.
“Like they were my own.” As if to illustrate, Mikey held out his arms, and she scooped him up and hugged him fiercely.
“And I suspect you have some feelings for my grandson, as well.”
Erica set Mikey down in the crib and went back to folding clothes, avoiding Papa’s eyes. “You see too much.”
“I see what’s there. And I see what’s there on his side, too. He’s a hard one, that Jason, but you’ve helped him to soften up. You and the twins. That’s worth something.”
“Thank you, I...” She didn’t know what to say, how to respond, but she stumbled to put some words together. “I hope there was something good he got from knowing me. It’s been...” Her throat was too tight to go on. She took a sweater out of the suitcase and refolded it, blinking away tears.
“You also did something that hurt him. Hurt me, too, but—”
“I’m so sorry, Papa.” She dropped the sweater and hurried across the room to kneel at his side. “You’ve been so good to me. It was unforgivable of me to deceive you.”
He took her hand in his own hard, leathery one. “I’m also old enough to know that nobody’s perfect and everybody makes mistakes. Yours wasn’t for a bad cause.” He tipped her chin up to look at him as her tears spilled over. “Seems to me our Kimmie put you in a mighty confusing dilemma. You tried to do the right thing for her and for the twins. How can we fault you for that?”
She swallowed and wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Papa Andy. That means a lot to me.”
“You mean a lot to me, sweetheart. You and these boys have helped me more than you know.” He squeezed her hand. “Now, why don’t you go find yourself a corner and do a little praying? I’ll watch the twins.”
“But I need to pack—”
“You in too big of a hurry to listen to God?” He lifted a bushy eyebrow, his sharp eyes pinning her.
“I... No. Thank you. I’d appreciate a few minutes.” She grabbed her Bible from her nightstand and hurried downstairs to sit beside the Christmas tree and the nativity scene.
Half an hour later, she knew what she needed to do. Something terrifying, something unlikely to work, something against her whole shy nature.
And she needed to get started right away.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’d love to stay and talk more, but I have a sermon to preach.” Pastor Wayne pounded Jason on the shoulder. “I think between you and the Lord, you can figure out what to do. You’re welcome to my office, if you need a place to think.”
“Thanks.” Jason watched the pastor gather his Bible
and leave, confident, ready for his next challenge.
That was how Jason had used to feel about his detective work, too. Now he wasn’t sure of anything.
He needed to stay in Holly Springs with Papa. And he needed to take care of his sister’s children.
But the big question was Erica.
Could he forgive her? Could she forgive him?
The church bells rang, announcing that services would start soon. Jason closed his eyes and slumped forward, elbows on knees, his forehead on his folded hands.
Ten minutes later, he still wasn’t certain what to do, but he’d gained a measure of peace. The Lord didn’t leave His sheep without a shepherd.
He stood and looked out the window into the twilight-darkened parking lot. People were starting to arrive for services.
And it hit him like a missile.
The box the postman had delivered.
Brian had mentioned that a box of Kimmie’s belongings should be on its way.
Was it possible...?
He strode out of the pastor’s office and into the parking lot, almost running to his truck. He grabbed the box from the back and brought it up into the cab, turning on the vehicle for warmth, clicking on the interior light.
He studied the package. An Arizona return address.
Hands shaking, he used his pocketknife to slit the tape and opened the flaps. Inside, there was a stack of envelopes held together with a rubber band and about four or five newspaper-wrapped items.
He set the letters aside and was opening the first packet when there was a knock on the window.
He lowered it.
Outside was Darien, the father from the couple who had given birth in the cabin. “Dude, mind if I get in for a minute?”
Yes. “No. Come around.” He clicked open the locks and moved the box from the passenger seat to the middle.
“I got a ride here,” Darien told him. “Hoping I’d see you. Thanks for setting us up with rent, man!”
Jason nodded. “Glad to do it. How’re Caylene and the baby?”
“They’re great. We’re gonna live in a carriage house that belongs to one of my aunts. Now that we can pay rent, the relatives are being a little nicer.”
“Good.” Jason’s eyes strayed to the box on the gear area between them.
“What’s that?”
He picked up the packet he’d been opening, too curious to wait for Darien to leave. “Stuff from my sister.” He cleared his throat. “She passed away recently.”
“Sorry, man.”
Inside the packet, metal clanked together. He got it open. “Gran’s cookie cutters.” He cocked his head to one side. “Wonder why she kept these.”
“Must’ve been important to her.”
“Yeah.” Jason thought back. “At Christmas, as soon as us kids got there, Gran and Kimmie would always bake a bunch of cookies.” He remembered it like yesterday, them laughing and talking, bringing out the final results for him and Papa to rave over and eat. Under Gran’s watchful eye, the cookies had always turned out well. Good memories.
“What’re these?” Darien was holding the stack of envelopes. “They all have your name on them, man.” He held them out to Jason.
“I don’t...” Jason shook his head. “I don’t think I can deal with these right now.”
Darien flipped through and whistled. “Some of these look pretty beat-up. But this top one here looks new. Maybe it’s recent.” He handed it to Jason.
Jason couldn’t deal with it, but he couldn’t resist it, either. He opened it up and read the first line:
I’m sorry I’m not what you think I am, but please don’t hold it against my sons.
His throat tightened and he couldn’t speak. He kept reading and learned that the reason Kimmie had relapsed into drugs was her terminal diagnosis. And that she’d strayed away from her faith, but with Erica’s help, she’d read her Bible and discussed Jesus and prayed in the last days.
Erica is really a special woman. If you’re reading this, give her a chance.
Words of wisdom from beyond the grave.
At first, I wanted Erica to keep the twins away from you. But now, I keep remembering the good times. I love you, Jason, and I know you love me. I hope you’ll give that love to my sons.
Jason’s chest hurt. He closed his eyes.
“Check this out.” Darien nudged him, reached into the box and pulled out a plastic sleeve with official-looking papers inside.
Darien pointed to the top document, visible through the plastic. “That’s a keepsake birth certificate,” he said. “Just got one of those for our boy today. See the footprint? And then you order the official one online.”
“What’s the Post-it say?” Jason heard the hoarseness in his own voice.
“For Erica Lindholm.” Darien held the packet closer to the dome light. “Looks like there’s medical records in here, too.”
So Kimmie had meant for Erica to have the babies.
Jason didn’t trust his voice, but he pulled the one remaining packet from the box, hard and flat. With trembling hands, he opened it.
Inside was an old picture frame he recognized as one Papa had made, years back, from barn siding. The photo in the frame was of the twins. He studied it, trying to figure out what looked familiar.
It was their clothes. They were just a little out-of-date.
They were Jason’s own baby clothes. He’d seen them in photographs. In fact, Teddy’s outfit was the one in the Santa picture back at the house.
How had Kimmie managed to keep those clothes for all these years, for all her moves through the gutter?
A whole wave of memories came back to him then. How Kimmie had loved dolls, had collected them when she got too old to actually play with them. How she’d showed him outfits that had belonged to him as a baby, outfits she’d saved from the trash or donation bin.
She’d told him how she’d played with him like a doll when he was a baby, and though Jason had no memory of it, he suspected that a good portion of the mother love he’d gotten had come from Kimmie rather than their mother.
And she’d kept his baby clothes, put them on her own sons.
He stared up at the ceiling of the truck to keep the tears in his eyes from falling.
“What’s up with the picture?”
Jason drew in a deep breath. Let it out slowly, and then repeated the process. Cleared his throat. “My sister helped raise me and I guess she kept my baby clothes. She put them on her twins for this picture.”
“Wow, heavy.”
It was heavy, but Jason felt like a huge weight was lifting off his shoulders.
Kimmie had kept these things. She’d loved him and had remembered Gran and Papa warmly. She’d wanted Erica to have the twins, and she’d wanted Jason to give Erica a chance.
Kimmie hadn’t been perfect. And that was okay.
Erica wasn’t perfect. Also okay.
And that meant Jason didn’t have to be perfect, either.
A strange warmth came over him. He looked out at the parking lot, where more and more people were heading into the church, to celebrate the birth of the Christ child.
He grabbed Darien’s hand and pumped it. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, dude. I gotta get back to Caylene and the baby. You hang in there, hear? Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
After Darien left, Jason put the precious items back into the box and set it on the seat behind him. Then he dropped his head into his hands. I’ll do what You tell me, Lord. Not my will but Thine. He left the truck and walked into the church foyer.
As soon as he got inside, he saw Erica. Her back was to him, and she wore a green dress that hugged her slender silhouette and showed off her clouds of red hair. She had Mikey on her hip
, and Papa walked beside her, holding a squirming Teddy.
His impulse was to go to them, but he was trying to follow God, not his impulses. So he leaned against the church wall and just watched and thought.
He loved her—he knew that. His feelings for any woman in his past paled in comparison.
But love was tricky and messy and people didn’t live up to his standards. More important, he himself didn’t live up to his own standards. The question was, did he want to hold back and judge, or did he want to wade in? And if he made the latter choice, was he healed enough to do it right this time?
She turned and looked over and saw him. He saw her mouth drop open a little, her posture tighten. Then she lifted her chin and held out her arms, low, palms facing him. As if she were offering him an embrace.
In front of all these people. He felt a wave of love for her that she would try.
But people surged around her, between them. Partly, of course, because the twins were so adorable. Partly because Papa was such a popular figure.
And partly because Erica was so incredibly appealing that all the males between fifteen and fifty were drawn to her like bees to a colorful flower.
Organ music rose up from the sanctuary, the signal for people to stop milling around and come in to worship. There was a general movement toward the sanctuary.
Jason had lost sight of Erica, but he was going to find her, no matter what.
* * *
Erica followed Papa into what was apparently his usual front-and-center seat in church. She probably would’ve chosen a seat in back, given that she had two wiggly babies to contend with, but she treasured that Papa had forgiven her, had wanted to come to church together.
When she’d seen Jason across the foyer, leaning against the wall, her heart had swelled with love for him.
Had she made a fool of herself, reaching out to him in that obvious way? He hadn’t jumped into her arms, that was for sure.
On the other hand, maybe her gesture hadn’t been clear enough. Maybe she should have run across the room to him and begged forgiveness. There would have been no ambiguity in that gesture, but it was totally against her nature.
Secret Christmas Twins Page 17
