by Nancy Thayer
Hope at the possibility of her parents getting back together, because here they both were in the same house, and Alonzo was in the past!
Despair at seeing her father move away from Katya to put his arm around Nicole.
“I need to sit down,” she murmured.
“Of course you do, sweetheart.” Katya handed her mink to James. Over her shoulder, she said to Sebastian, “My suitcase is on the front stoop. Could you bring it in, please?” With an arm around her daughter, she cooed, “Let’s go into the living room and get you comfy.”
They settled on the sofa. Kennedy angled her bulk to allow herself to study her mother’s face. Katya’s eyes were slightly pink and swollen. Obviously she had been crying, something she seldom allowed herself to do, and Kennedy’s heart broke for her mother.
“Are you okay, Mommy?”
Katya bristled. “Don’t I look okay?”
“Of course. You’re as beautiful as always. But you must be sad without Alonzo.”
Katya stared down at her hands. “Devastated.” A shadow passed over her face.
In that moment, Kennedy saw the slight sag of flesh around her mother’s lovely jawline and the pouch beneath her eyes that had not been quite disguised by concealer.
“Oh, Mommy.”
Katya stiffened at the compassion in Kennedy’s voice. “It happened only last night. I haven’t slept. I know I look dreadful, but I’m extremely tired. Shattered, really, with the packing and the trip. It was a horrendous flight, very bumpy, the wind shook the plane. What I’d adore is a hot bath and a good nap.”
“Of course,” Kennedy began, just as her father walked into the room. Kennedy’s spirits lifted. “Daddy, Mommy wants—”
“Katya.” Sebastian’s voice was terse. He remained standing. “You’ve got to realize how inappropriate it is for you to be here.”
“Daddy!” Kennedy burst out.
“I’m sorry if you and Alonzo broke it off, but the fact is that is your matter to deal with, not mine. You and I were divorced years ago. You’re a grown woman, you have plenty of financial resources—I’ve seen to that. You need to make other plans.”
Katya slanted her head submissively. Fluttering her lashes, she pleaded, “I have no place else to go.”
“You must have friends on the mainland,” Sebastian pointed out.
Katya shrugged. “No one I could go to for the holiday.”
“Fine. Then a hotel. You’ve always been fond of first-class hotels.”
Kennedy’s mood rose at this sign of her father remembering what her mother preferred.
“A hotel? On Christmas?”
“We’ve often stayed in hotels on Christmas,” Sebastian reminded her as he stalked to the fire, stirred it with the poker, then shot Katya a sober stare. “I suggest you try to get a room at the Ritz or the Taj in Boston.”
Katya lifted her shoulder coyly to her cheek. “I’m not sure I can leave the island. With this storm …”
Sebastian’s face darkened with annoyance. Straightening, he decreed, “Then go to one of the hotels on Nantucket. The Jared Coffin House.”
“The expense—” Katya started to object.
“I’ll pay for it.” Sebastian folded his arms over his chest, a sign that he was not going to yield.
Katya tossed her lovely blond hair. “Fine. But Sebastian, be kind. I’m so awfully tired. I was just telling Kennedy that I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Couldn’t I take a brief lie-down here before I go back out into the storm?”
“Please, Daddy,” Kennedy begged. “Mommy can rest on my bed, and while she rests, I’ll phone the Nantucket hotels and see who has a room.”
Sebastian did not look pleased.
“Sebby.” Katya stood up, stepping close to her ex-husband, putting her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about all of this. I know I’ve made so many many terrible mistakes. If I could only turn back the clock …”
Kennedy watched her mother and father with hope springing up in her heart.
“You can’t turn back time, Katya.” Sebastian didn’t sound angry or bitter or punitive, but adamant. Quietly, he walked away from her to the door into the front hall. “And I’m glad about that. Now please have some consideration and take yourself to a hotel.”
Her father left the room.
Katya turned away so that Kennedy couldn’t see her face. Kennedy’s stomach cramped with regret and despair. It was not going to happen. Her parents were never going to get back together. That damned Nicole had bewitched her father, although how anyone so plain could bewitch anyone was past Kennedy’s comprehension.
She heard Nicole in the kitchen, chatting quietly with James and Maddox. “Well, Maddox,” Nicole said, “if you eat every bite of your sandwich, you may have a candy cane, but only if your daddy says so.”
Who was Nicole to control what Kennedy’s child ate? Annoyance propelled Kennedy ungracefully off the sofa.
“Mommy. Let me take you to my room so you can rest.”
In the hall, Katya started to climb the stairs.
“No, wait. We’re in the birthing room behind the kitchen,” Kennedy informed her mother. “So I don’t have to climb the stairs all the time.”
“Good idea,” Katya replied. She hesitated, understandably reluctant to enter the kitchen.
Kennedy took her mother’s hand and pulled her along. Nicole was at the sink, rinsing dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. James was covering a platter of fresh veggie strips with cling wrap. Maddox sat on a chair, swinging his legs, sucking a candy cane.
“Mommy’s going to take a brief nap,” Kennedy proclaimed, her tone of voice leaving no room for discussion.
“I’m going to take a nap, too, Grandmama,” Maddox told her.
Katya crouched down to kiss her grandson. “Have a good sleep, my angel. I’ll see you later.” Rising, she followed Kennedy into the birthing room.
“The bathroom’s through here,” Kennedy began, then stopped, blushing. “Of course you know that.”
Katya looked around the room. “So Nicole changed the den into a bedroom.” With a sigh, she sat down on the wide bed that, Kennedy realized with a blip of relief, she had actually made this morning. Unzipping her boots, Katya kicked them off, raised her shapely legs onto the bed, and reclined onto a pillow. “Oh, my. This feels divine.”
Kennedy unfolded a patchwork quilt and spread it over Katya. She kissed her mother’s forehead. “Have a good rest.”
“Thank you, dear.” Katya closed her eyes.
Kennedy left the room, quietly shutting the door, thinking how odd it felt to do something so maternal to her own mother.
20
The boy’s fort was better than nothing, but the temperature was falling while the wind rose. It was late afternoon and the boy who called him Pooh hadn’t brought him anything to eat since last night when he brought out that piece of excellent meat.
He worried the boy had forgotten him. The light that came with morning was already fading. This was good for when Snix needed to sneak out of his fort and scurry over behind a bush to pee. It made him less visible to the people inside the brightly lighted house. But it was bad for finding food. So was the snow pelting down everywhere. Already it was piled so high that Snix had trouble lifting his short legs in and out of it. Once or twice he got stuck, which made him even colder. He jumped his way back into the fort, his coat covered with flakes.
He licked the icy white off his legs and shoulders and rolled on the cushions. He tried nosing a cushion up against another one to make a notch where he could wriggle down into for warmth. It didn’t work very well. The wind was so strong it rattled the lawn chairs and lifted the edges of the cardboard and blankets.
He couldn’t understand why the boy hadn’t come back. Perhaps this was the way humans were, hugging and feeding you one day, completely forgetting you the next.
Or maybe it was that Snix was unlovable. He wasn’t much to look at, he knew. He was too small to guard a house. He was
too small even to make it through the increasing piles of snow to search for food. No one needed a dog like him.
His stomach growled as hunger clawed at it. He whimpered pathetically.
Wait! He heard a noise. The back door was opening. He crawled to the edge of the lawn chair tunnel and peeked out between the slats.
It wasn’t the boy. Snix’s heart sank.
But it was a woman carrying a heavy clear bag of garbage, and even through the blowing snow Snix could smell the layers of cooked and raw food. These people had a heavy plastic garbage can with a tight-fitting lid that clamped shut so decidedly that Snix had never been able to open it.
But he’d never been this desperate before. He would wait until the woman went back inside, then attack the garbage can with all his might.
21
At preschool, everyone talked about Christmas as full of excitement, presents, good food, and fun. But Christmas was tomorrow and everyone in the house was grumpy. Maddox could feel the heaviness. He knew he was only a kid, he couldn’t understand everything, but he knew when people bustled or whistled or sang, and right now the house was silent except for the sound of Nicole clashing pots and pans in the kitchen.
That was wrong. Nicole always fluttered around in the kitchen like a butterfly, humming to herself. Now her expression was grim. Grandmama had disappeared into the bedroom. Mommy and Daddy were in the living room, talking in low voices. Granddad sat in the kitchen nook, phoning hotels.
The windows rattled, battered by the storm. Pooh!, Maddox thought. Maddox hadn’t been able to get outside to take him food since yesterday, because he always had a grown-up taking him here and there. The poor dog must be cold and hungry.
This might be the perfect time to sneak outside with some food. Maddox had eaten all of his grilled cheese sandwich, but the grown-ups hadn’t. Nicole was piling the crusts into the trash bag now, where they joined bits of bacon, eggs, toast, and other breakfast goodies that had been left over from this morning. It would be a feast for his puppy pal!
How could he steal the bag away from Nicole? Already it looked too heavy for Maddox to carry it, but he could drag it, but not in front of the grown-ups … While he deliberated, Nicole swiftly twisted and tied the opening, hefted it up, and headed to the mudroom and the back door.
Disappointment flooded Maddox. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to unclamp the garbage cans. But he had to be inventive, he had to be strong, he had to feed Pooh. Quickly scanning the kitchen, he discovered a box of Cheerios left on the counter. Okay, maybe dogs didn’t eat Cheerios, but it was better than nothing.
Like a spy, Maddox slipped out to the mudroom, pulled on his boots, then dove beneath the bench where people sat to take off their boots or put them on. The door opened, snow gusted in on an invisible carpet of cold air, and Nicole’s feet strode past, stamping snow onto the floor. She went into the kitchen.
Maddox sneaked out from under the bench. Reaching up, he turned the knob and pulled the back door open. Sliding through the smallest possible opening, he stepped out onto the back porch and pulled the door shut tight.
Light from the kitchen fell onto the porch and backyard. From here he could see how the wind buffeted the fort, clattering the cardboard against the wood and making the edges of the blankets lift and drop. Still, it stood. So Pooh was warm inside.
Maddox hurried down the steps toward the fort. Wind spun through his hair and dotted his face with snowflakes, but he was warm enough in the wool Christmas sweater Nicole had knit especially for him.
Kneeling down, he crawled through the lawn chair entrance into the fort.
“Pooh!” he called. “I’m here. I’m here, Pooh. I’ve brought you something to eat.”
Pooh wasn’t there.
22
As Nicole carried out the garbage, she wondered why Sebastian was making phone calls on his ex-wife’s behalf. This garbage bag was heavy, but Sebastian was too busy on the phone, helping Princess Katya. For heaven’s sake, couldn’t James or Kennedy or Katya herself made the calls? Were Katya’s filed, French-tipped fingernails too delicate to punch numbers into a phone?
Bah, humbug, Nicole thought as she tromped up the back steps. All her visions of a lollipop Noel had fled before the nightmare of gorgeous, vulnerable Katya arriving to take over the house and the holiday.
Back in the house, she saw James secluded in the living room whispering with Kennedy. Sebastian was in the kitchen, grim-faced.
“Most of the hotels and B&Bs are closed for the season. The few that are open are booked. No rooms available.” Seeing Nicole’s frustration, he tried to lighten the moment. “No room at the inn.”
Nicole was aware that her hair had been stirred by the wind into all kinds of crazy. She had tried to ignore the fact that her middle-aged bottom had grown bigger and rounder as she’d spent the month cooking delicacies for the holiday, but with Katya here, so slim and toned, Nicole admitted to herself that she looked like a peasant compared to a queen. No, not a peasant, a servant. The mild, self-effacing worker bee who cooked the meals, did the dishes, made the beds, and dusted and cleaned so the family, Sebastian’s family, could flutter through life like the aristocrats Katya assumed they were.
Nicole lifted her hand to smooth down her hair. “Right now, at this particular moment, I’m not in the mood to be benevolent.”
Sebastian swayed back, surprised. Nicole seldom spoke in this way. He apologized, “I’m sorry I didn’t carry out the garbage. I know the bag was heavy.”
“I’m bushed,” Nicole told him, and it was true. She was at the end of her rope, which allowed all sorts of demonic phrases to pepper her mind, filling her with dark thoughts.
I’ll leave. I’ll go to Jilly’s and let you have your perfect wife and family all back together again. Those words were on the tip of her tongue, but she knew they weren’t rational, she was simply overemotional and overwhelmed. Sebastian had not done anything to make her doubt his love for her. He had stepped away when Katya tried to paw him. He had put his arm around Nicole. She had to tamp down her temper.
“I’m going upstairs to lie down,” Nicole said. “I need a rest.”
Her heart lightened when Sebastian said, “I’ll come with you.”
They lay side by side on their backs on the bed. Nicole stared at the ceiling.
Sebastian reached for Nicole’s hand. “I’m sorry Katya showed up like this. She’s never been considerate of other people.”
“She wants you back,” Nicole stated bluntly.
Sebastian rolled over and put an arm around Nicole, pulling her close to him. “I am married to you. I am in love with you.” He nibbled her ear. “You and I are a team, Nicole. In a couple of days, everyone else will be gone, and you and I will have our house and our lives back to ourselves.”
“Yes, but when Kennedy has her baby, you and Katya and James will be with her and I’ll be exiled.”
Sebastian took a deep breath. “Exiled is putting it a bit strong.”
Nicole didn’t speak.
“What can I do?” Sebastian asked. “It’s what my daughter requested. And Katya and I are the biological grandparents.” After a moment, he continued, “Give Kennedy a break. She’s a good person, deep down. She’s not thinking clearly. I think she’s pretty overwhelmed by pregnancy hormones.”
Nicole turned on her side, away from Sebastian. Truly, she was fed up with shopping, cooking, cleaning, decorating, not to mention pretending that Kennedy’s little act with the photo albums hadn’t wounded her. And the worst was yet to come. If Katya stayed for Christmas, how would that work? Everyone was aligned to Kennedy except Nicole, who was left out. And what about the cooking and cleaning up? If Katya didn’t help, Nicole would feel like her maid. If Katya did help, Nicole would be painfully aware that Katya had cooked in the kitchen for years.
Tears were pressing against her chest and her eyes. “I w-wanted this to be a wonderful Christmas,” she managed to stutter.
“What can I do to help
?” Sebastian repeated. “There must be something.”
Why couldn’t Sebastian just know? Nicole struggled for an answer. “Be with me,” she told him. “Don’t let Katya touch you. Don’t respond to her flirting. Make it clear that this is our house now, your house and mine.”
Sebastian cuddled her against him. “I’ll do that. And remember, Nicole, Katya and I were estranged even before the divorce. She pretty much lived in the Boston house while I preferred to live here. I was relieved when she ran off with Alonzo—but I’ve told you all this before.”
Reassured by the warmth of his arms and his words, Nicole agreed, “Okay. I can do this. If you’re by my side.”
“Don’t worry, I’m right here.” Sebastian hugged her tightly.
Yet Nicole knew that, for her, Christmas was ruined.
23
Kennedy could not get comfortable on the living room sofa. She had eaten too much of Nicole’s amazingly delicious food. Rubbing her hands over her swollen belly, she closed her eyes and tried to relax, but thoughts of her mother stirred through her emotions. As much as Kennedy had hated it when her mother divorced her father, she had been glad for Katya whenever Katya was with Alonzo, because this new love had made Katya glitter in ways Kennedy had never seen before. Katya had acted silly, hugging and smooching Kennedy with a carefree, spontaneous enthusiasm that was entirely new.
Now Alonzo and Katya were over. Kennedy could tell her mother was hurting more than she let others see. The fact that Katya wanted to take a nap? Whoa. Katya had never taken naps before.
James was outside, shoveling the walk and the drive. The sound of the blade hitting the bricks made Kennedy grit her teeth. Couldn’t he wait?
If only Nicole would just leave. Then Kennedy’s father wouldn’t have to behave so dutifully to his new wife. Sebastian would be free to gaze upon Katya with clear eyes, he would see that they belonged together, he would take her in his arms, and everyone in the house would belong.
