Kids by Christmas

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Left in the deserted hall of the elementary school, Suzanne blinked away tears and found her way blindly toward the front entrance, outside of which she’d left her car.

  The last thing Sophia had said this morning before they’d gotten out of the car was “I bet this school is going to suck, too.” She’d walked in with a mulish look on her face, her shoulders hunched in that way she had of closing herself in. The only thin ray of hope Suzanne had was that Sophia had gotten up extra early on her own to get ready. She’d put on brand new jeans, boots and her favorite of the new tops. And when Jack hadn’t appeared after Suzanne’s first wake-up call, Sophia had gone into his bedroom.

  “Get up! We gotta go to school today. Remember?”

  The words weren’t encouraging, but her voice had sounded…excited.

  Suzanne had made sure they arrived before the first bell that morning, and was glad to find that their previous school had sent the kids’ records. Melissa had let the school know the kids would be starting here after Christmas break, so they were expected.

  Rather than taking them directly to their new classes, the vice principal had spent the time talking to both of them, reassuring Jack and coaxing a flicker of a smile from Sophia. As it happened, the principal had seen the note Sophia’s teacher had written about her artistic talent and had been able to put her into a classroom with a teacher who particularly enjoyed nurturing that kind of ability.

  “He’s an exciting teacher,” the vice principal had assured them. “He loves using video—the kids all learn to use the camera and edit. They integrate art and the television shows they create themselves into their other lessons.” Her eyes met Suzanne’s. “He enjoys kids with strong opinions and voices.”

  Suzanne was more reassured by that than anything else she’d heard. The administration had noted Sophia’s tendency to speak out bluntly and to get mad, and had tried in response to choose a teacher who’d be most likely to channel her strong personality appropriately.

  The school secretary had called another student in Sophia’s classroom to escort her, and Sophia had barely acknowledged Suzanne’s, “Have a good day!” before leaving with the other girl. Of course, both kids were used to first days at new schools.

  Now, Suzanne smiled somewhat blindly in the direction of the school secretary, who’d no doubt seen tears before, and went out into the cold, hurrying to her car.

  Once behind the wheel, gripping the steering wheel, Suzanne thought, Please, please, let them be happy here.

  Then she put the car in gear and pulled out of her parking spot.

  At the shop, she had time to make herself a cup of tea and drink it before she turned the Closed sign to Open. Last week, she had posted her new days and hours, and had concluded quickly that her customers weren’t going to mind.

  By mid-afternoon, when she started listening for the school bus that would stop just a block away, she was thinking, What customers? She’d barely seen a handful of people all day. Her take so far was the worst of any single day since she’d opened last summer. Even her one class had been poorly attended, with half the students registered failing to appear. Apparently rumors of how dead retail could be in January were accurate.

  The kids burst in just after three, and she set down her knitting and jumped to her feet.

  “Tell me everything! How did it go?”

  They both talked at once.

  “It was okay.” Sophia’s shrug didn’t look as nonchalant as she intended.

  “I had fun!” Jack said, his thin face alight. “Ms. Lopez is really nice! And I kinda made a friend today.”

  “A friend? Really?” Suzanne drew them back to the sitting area where she held her classes.

  “Yeah! His name is Dylan. Ms. Lopez asked him to show me around today, and he did a real good job. He picked me to be on his relay team in P.E. an’ everything.”

  “That’s great!” She smiled, thrilled at the enthusiasm shining from him.

  “I got homework, though. They made me take tests today. Ms. Lopez says I did real good on the math.”

  “Melissa told me your last teacher said you were really good at math, too. What homework do you have?”

  The school had loaned him flash cards, it developed, although apparently Suzanne was expected to buy some, and he was supposed to read for twenty minutes. Plus, there was a program on PBS tonight about whales that Ms. Lopez had encouraged them to watch.

  “Are you done?” Sophia finally said with sisterly disgust, stemming the tide of words. “So I can tell about my day?”

  “Um…” His forehead creased. “I guess. Mostly.”

  “Thank you,” she said with masterly sarcasm.

  “Did you make any friends?” he asked.

  “On the first day?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  “How do you like your teacher?” Suzanne asked.

  “He’s okay. I learned to use a video camera. It is so cool! We filmed this weekly news show. Mr. Schroder says I can be the anchor next week.”

  Jack thought that was hilarious. “An anchor? Are they going to drop you to the bottom of the sea?”

  “That’s what the person who tells you the news on TV is called.” The curl of her lip expressed how exquisitely pained she was to be related to this boy. “Dummy.”

  Suzanne cleared her throat. They’d had talks about calling names.

  “Well, he is.”

  “No, he’s seven years old.”

  “Yeah!” Jack jumped in. “I bet you didn’t know everything when you were seven, either.”

  Sophia decided to abandon the argument. “Can we get a video camera? It is so fun to use!”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to enjoy using the one at school for now.” Suzanne smiled at her. “Did they make you take tests, too?”

  “I think I’m going to tomorrow.” She frowned. “We started a spelling unit, and the words are a lot harder than I’m used to. Like annihilate and retribution.”

  Surprised, Suzanne said, “Those are depressing words.”

  “We’re talking about world news.”

  Well, that explained depressing.

  “Do you have homework, too?”

  “Tons of it!” she exclaimed. “Can I start it now?”

  “I hope you will.” Suzanne looked at the seven-year-old. “Jack, since there aren’t any customers right now, why don’t we do flash cards?”

  One more customer wandered in about four o’clock and left without buying anything. Suzanne didn’t bother to close out the till. She resolved, though, to be positive about the time she now had on her hands. She would use it to design patterns and to knit items for sale. She hadn’t intended them to be more than an occasional sideline, but the Christmas season had demonstrated how profitable they could be. She could use yarns that were about to be discounted because they weren’t selling well, and turn them into gorgeous afghans, sweaters and scarves that would fly out once she displayed them in her window.

  Tom had invited them all to dinner that night so he could hear about the kids’ day, too, so once home they dumped their belongings in their bedrooms, locked the front door and went to his house.

  Over black bean and corn burritos, he listened as they talked over each other in bursts.

  “This girl asked where I bought my shirt…”

  “Dylan asked if I play Little League. He was really surprised when I said I never have. So can I this year?” He turned hopeful eyes on Suzanne.

  “The sixth graders are, like, really snobby. Like they’re better than everyone.”

  “There’s this other guy in my class who’s shorter than I am. Lots shorter,” Jack said with satisfaction.

  Sophia suddenly fixated on Tom. “Do you have a video camera?”

  He blinked. “No. Why? Are you going to take up something I should videotape?”

  “Take up something?”

  “Yeah. Like ice skating, or ballet, or you’re going to have a solo in the school concert.”

  �
�No, I just wanted to borrow it if you had one.” She told him about her day’s adventures. “So now I really, really want my own.”

  “But borrowing mine would be an adequate substitute.”

  Sophia gave him a dazzling smile. “If you decide to get one…”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” he agreed. To Suzanne, he murmured, “Pity the boys someday.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “She’s shameless.”

  “So can I be in Little League?” Jack persisted. “Huh? Can I?”

  “If we can figure out transportation, sure.”

  He cheered, and she worried about his disappointment if she couldn’t. What did other working parents do? Depend on stay-at-home moms to ferry their children everywhere? Or would practices be in the evening once days became longer?

  After dinner, Suzanne insisted that they all help clear the table and load the dishwasher. Afterward, Sophia grabbed the keys and the kids ran ahead to the house, squabbling over who got the TV.

  Suzanne called after them, “Schoolwork trumps even favorite shows! Jack has to watch Nova. Tape your show, Sophia.”

  “No fair!” They disappeared into the house, leaving Tom and Suzanne on his porch.

  His easy smile vanished, and he pulled her back inside and closed the door. She found herself backed up against the door, his hands flattened on it to each side of her head.

  “What…?”

  “I missed you.”

  She barely had time to say “Oh,” before his mouth claimed hers with none of his usual gentleness. His kiss was urgent, his body crowding hers. That raw male hunger drove her response. She all but melted, kissing him back, forgetting she even had children, never mind that she needed to follow them home.

  When he finally lifted his head, she stared him, dazed.

  His face was stark with a need she’d never seen on it before, his chest rising and falling hard, his eyes dark.

  “What…what was that about?” Suzanne whispered.

  “Over dinner, I just kept looking at you and thinking how much I wanted to touch you.”

  “But…you looked so patient!”

  “With them, yeah. I didn’t feel patient where you’re concerned.” His jaw muscles flexed. “But I have to be, don’t I?” He backed away, releasing her. “In fact, you’d better get home now and head off World War III.”

  “Yes, I…” She shook her head, trying to clear it, hoping her knees were sturdy enough to hold her. “I suppose I should.”

  Furrows between his brows made Tom’s face forbidding, different from the kind one she’d thought she knew so well. She couldn’t tell if he was irritated at her, or himself. He opened the door.

  “Good night, Suzanne.”

  “Thank you for dinner.”

  He dipped his head.

  She hesitated, but had no idea what to say. I want you, too? But he could tell from her response that she did. Does this mean you’re not happy sneaking a few kisses? It has

  to be more, or else? But what would else mean? Anyway, he hadn’t actually said that.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her voice rose slightly, uncertainty creeping into it.

  His face softened a little. “I’m sure you will.”

  Did he sound resigned rather than pleased? Or was she imagining things?

  She stumbled over the doorjamb. Righting herself, Suzanne said, “Good night, Tom,” and retreated into the darkness between their houses.

  “HOW BIG DID YOU SAY this wedding was?” Clearly, they weren’t going to be parking anywhere near the mansion.

  “I don’t think over a hundred.” Suzanne peered ahead. “But if the house doesn’t have much parking…”

  Tom grunted. “Looking at those heels, I’d better let you ladies off in front and then go find a place.”

  Suzanne smiled at him. “A gentleman to the core.”

  Ever since she’d come out her front door, he’d been trying not to regret the fact that the kids were behind her. He’d wanted to sweep her away to a romantic evening, the kind they’d never had.

  Made of some kind of crinkly gold fabric that also looked whisper-thin and clung in all the right places, her dress also bared plenty of leg, enhanced by strappy black high heels. She’d pulled back strands of hair from around her face, included thin gold ribbon, and had somehow created intricate, interlocking braids that formed a kind of net over the back of her head. From it, sleek hair flowed down her back. Her eyes looked huge and mysterious, her lush mouth exotic with lipstick, her face even more delicately sculpted than ever.

  He’d almost gotten used to thinking of her as Suzanne, the woman he kissed every night on her front porch. Much as he wanted her, Tom had quit feeling intimidated by her beauty. This afternoon, every time he glanced her way, she dislodged his breath afresh.

  He turned between the open, wrought-iron gates and followed the curved driveway that led under a portico at the front of the elegant mansion. The double doors were flung wide, and beautifully dressed people were squeezed onto the porch. A couple of cars in front of him took turns pausing to let someone out, then continued. In his turn, he stopped.

  Suzanne squeezed his hand, gave him a brilliant smile and said, “Hurry back.”

  “Can I go with you?” Jack asked.

  Tom shrugged. “Fine by me.”

  “If you’re sure.” At two male nods, Suzanne got out, as gracefully as a woman in heels could from a two-ton pickup truck, then opened the back door to let out Sophia. As soon as they’d reached the porch, Tom started forward again.

  “Shall we come back in a couple of hours?” he kidded.

  “Yeah! I don’t want to go to any wedding. Dylan says they’ll kiss.”

  Tom laughed. “Yeah, I bet they will. But it’s not so bad. And I want to see the inside of that house. I’ll bet the woodwork is something special.”

  He got lucky and found a parking spot not a quarter of a mile along, and he and Jack walked back. The kid looked cute today in chinos, a button-down shirt and a tie, his face fresh-scrubbed. He held Tom’s hand as if by matter-of-fact, the trusting warmth of that small grip tweaking something in Tom’s chest.

  Cars were still disgorging passengers, but Suzanne and Sophia waited just inside the front door. As far as Tom was concerned, no one else was even there, not with Suzanne’s smile lighting at the sight of him.

  No, that wasn’t quite true. He’d noticed what a beauty Sophia was today, too. Suzanne had probably hoped the simple dress was childlike, but the effect was far from it. Dotted with a print of tiny flowers, the blue fabric made the blue of her eyes more vivid, and however gangly she was in what was probably her first pair of shoes with any heels, they showed off long, coltish legs. Her dark hair looked in danger of escaping whatever arrangement was holding it on top of her head, but Tom suspected that impression was deceptive. Seemed to him actresses in movies often had similarly disheveled dos, even walking a red carpet. Yeah, Sophia was going to be a beauty all right.

  “We have the two prettiest ladies here,” Tom told Jack, who gave him a look of astonishment.

  “Two?”

  “Hey, look at your sister.”

  His face scrunched up. “I guess she looks okay.”

  Tom laughed, clapped him on the back, and then kissed Suzanne on the cheek when he reached her.

  “Thanks for waiting for us.”

  She chuckled. “We’ve been serving as an informal receiving line. We’ve met half a dozen of Rebecca’s friends. Oh, and Jagger, Gary’s partner in Chimayo Coffee Company. He’s best man, you know.”

  Tom didn’t, but that was okay.

  They peeked into the downstairs rooms where the reception would be held, then followed the traffic up the sweep of stairs to the top-floor ballroom. Folding chairs had been set up, leaving the traditional aisle down the middle.

  “No ushers,” a cheerful young man told them. “Seat yourselves. Bride’s family to the left, groom’s to the right.”

  Rebecca’s side had
the numbers, not surprisingly, since she’d grown up locally and gone to both college and graduate school in the Northwest. Except for half a dozen people Tom didn’t know, the rest of Gary’s side seemed to be family. The turnout, though, was impressive, including the whole contingent from Christmas, even Carrie’s adoptive parents and Mark’s father, and a large group that had Suzanne murmuring under her breath, “Oh, dear,” then, “I mean, wonderful! Uncle Miles made it.”

  Uncle Miles was apparently the florid-faced fellow beside a woman who was obviously Suzanne’s aunt. She was a dead ringer but for the streaks of gray in her hair and the lines in her face.

  Suzanne laid hands on both the kids’ shoulders and stopped them. “Aunt Jeanne, Uncle Miles.” She laughed. “Everyone.”

  Which presumably included the two younger men who must be her cousins, their wives and the horde of kids that accompanied them.

  “We can talk later, but I’d like you to meet the kids. Jack, Sophia, this is the aunt and uncle who raised me. And folks, this is Tom Stefanec, my next-door neighbor.”

  All said hi, but the crowded aisle forced them on. They slipped into the third row right behind Carrie, her adoptive parents, Mark, his father and Michael.

  Tom joined the general greeting, but was thinking, I’m

  her neighbor? That was the best she could do in the introduction department?

  They said their hellos, and Mark refused permission for Michael to sit beside Jack on the grounds that they wouldn’t be able to resist whispering if not wrestling.

  Tom sat back at last and took a look around the ballroom. A high, coved ceiling, tall, multipaned windows and Adams-style, white-painted paneled walls made it visually spacious and reminiscent of a more elegant, formal era. Huge vases of white and pale pink lilies resided in niches designed for them. The early lumber barons had apparently lived like kings.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Suzanne whispered.

  “Makes me want to sweep you onto the floor for a waltz,” Tom agreed.

  “Oh.” Her eyes became soft, even misty. “Do you know how to waltz?”

  “As it happens, I do.”

  Her nose crinkled endearingly. “Unfortunately, I don’t. I’d step on your feet. I’ve always wanted to take a ballroom dance class.”