by B. E. Baker
“Unless you marry someone else,” she mutters.
She's way too smart for a little kid. “Well, then it might be kind of weird.”
“Not for me, it wouldn't be.”
“You have so much to look forward to right now,” I say. “Let's enjoy playing together and seeing the dog while we can, okay?”
“I wrote Santa a letter,” she whispers.
“Oh?” I ask.
“I asked him if you could be my mom, and we could get a dog. The perfect puppy.”
“Well, maybe you'll get a puppy,” I say. “Who knows?”
She shakes her head. “I think Santa knew there was something better than a puppy. Andy is the best dog I've ever met. Now I just need the other part.” The corner of her mouth curls up into a smile and she scampers off to wash her hands just as the little boys come barreling into the room, each of them holding a truck.
Troy and Amy love the clam chowder, but Chase won't even try it.
“It looks yucky,” he says.
I make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Here you go, sweetie.”
He beams at me.
“You'll regret that precedent,” Luke says. “At my house, if they don't like dinner, they go to bed hungry.”
“You can't be serious,” I say.
He nods. “It's the only way to make sure they learn to eat new things.”
“When they get hungry enough, they'll eat what you offer,” Trudy says.
I suddenly feel left out, like the only person here who knows nothing about kids, and has no right to an opinion.
I stand up and grab the cake from the fridge so I don't have to meet anyone's eye. The frosting was a little runny, so I tossed it inside to firm it up. I start slicing pieces and passing them out. When Chase sees the cake, he bolts his sandwich in three bites.
“Whoa there, slow down,” I say. “You might choke.”
Chase chews and swallows. “I love chocolate cake.”
Luke laughs. “To be completely fair, Chase loves any kind of cake.”
“I'm glad I picked this for dessert, then,” I say.
“Mary doesn't cook dinner very often,” Trudy says. “She always hated it when we were kids, but she's a gourmet dessert chef.”
“Hey now, don't set the bar too high.” I carry the slices over to the table and set them in front of everyone.
Amy takes a big bite and coos. “Oh, Mary. Can we save some of this for Santa Claus? I bet he's sick to death of cookies, and this is really good!”
“I think that can be arranged,” I say. “I'll send your dad home with some.”
“Wait!” This time, it's Chase objecting. “Won't we see you tomorrow? We're having a big party!”
I pat his sticky hand. “It's wonderful you'd like me there, but I have a party to attend tomorrow, too.”
His face falls. “Oh no.”
Amy chimes in. “Can't you skip it? We're moving soon.”
My heart constricts and I want to tell them I'll miss it, but I can't do that. “I'm so sorry Amy, but I'm sure I'll see you again before you move.” I glance at Luke and he reaches over and takes my hand in his.
“You certainly will if I have any say in the matter.”
“Oh fine,” Amy says. “But you'll be sad when you hear how good Uncle Paul's pumpkin pie and Dad's ribs are.” Her eyes widen. “Not as good as your cake, but really close.”
I don't care as much about the ribs or the pie, but I do wish I could be in two places at the same time. When dinner's over, we let the kids play for a bit while we chat.
“So tell me about this Uncle Paul,” I say to Luke as I stand up and move to the sofa. “Is he your brother?”
Luke follows me and when I sit down, he sits right next to me. “You have one sibling, a sister. I have one sibling, and it's a brother.”
“And?” I ask.
“And what?” He puts his arm around me.
“Is he older or younger? Taller or shorter? Are you close? What does he do, and where does he live?”
“Call 911,” Luke tells Trudy, who has followed us over. “I'm being interrogated by the Gestapo!”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously. You've met my sister now, but I'm just hearing about Paul.”
“I'm older than him, by five years. I didn't want to admit it, because then I'd have to admit that I'm forty.”
“Oh no.” I hold my hand to his forehead. “You didn't tell me you were on death's door.”
He takes my hand in his. “I didn't want to scare you off, but I managed to anyway.”
“I toughened up,” I say. “I won't be scared so easily again. Not that I'm at risk, with you leaving in like two weeks.”
He nods. “Not much time left for scaring, I'm afraid.”
“But we do have time for you to tell me more about this younger brother.”
He grins and leans back in his chair. “He's smarter than me, by a wide margin. I was always good with my hands, and he always had his nose in a book. When he wasn't reading, he spent a lot of time in science labs, blowing things up.”
“Sounds like a real dork,” Trudy says. “But I'm not sure I believe you. Older siblings are a little too critical sometimes.”
“You're both welcome to come tomorrow. You could meet him yourself,” Luke says. “He lives in Atlanta, so he's around pretty often. He travels all the time for work, but when he's here, he comes to play with my kids.”
“Does he have any kids?” I ask.
“Oh, I know where this is going.” Luke puts his arm around me. “He sounds like a better candidate than I do, is that it? He's local and isn't planning to move, he has no kids, and he's brainy. Well, I got news for you, sister. I already called dibs.”
“I'm not the last drumstick.” I feign displeasure, but really I'm floating on cloud nine. “You can't call dibs on me.”
“Watch me.”
Luke leans forward, with Amy on the floor curled up with Andy, and Trudy sitting in the chair next to us, and kisses me square on the mouth. When he pulls back, I can't help sighing. I've missed Luke. A lot.
“Dibs,” he says. “Witnessed, right?” He glances over at Trudy and she giggles.
“Yep, I saw it. Sorry, Mary, but you'll never be able to date his brother Paul. It would violate the rules of sibling ethics.”
“Phew,” Luke says. “Glad we got that cleared up.”
I lean my head against his shoulder. Before too much longer, my eyelids get heavy. Luke and Trudy are talking and laughing, but I'm so tired, I just want to curl up and go to sleep with Luke by my side.
Gentle hands shake me awake. “I fell asleep? Again? I'm sorry.”
Luke's breath on my face makes me want to close my eyes again. “You've been working two jobs. I don't blame you.”
I rub my eyes and notice that I'm not the only one. Amy's asleep with her head on Andy's belly. Luke picks her up, and Andy sits up, looking at him with mournful eyes.
“You know, before you came over,” I whisper, “I was Andromeda's favorite person. I have a feeling that's no longer true.”
“Don't worry. You're still someone's favorite person.” Luke brushes his lips against mine, careful not to jostle Amy. “Thanks for inviting us over.”
I slip into a pair of Hunter boots, but don't bother with a jacket. I scoop up Chase, and Trudy hands me a Tupperware with chocolate cake for Santa. I walk out to the truck, and notice the temperature has dropped again. I buckle Chase in while Luke shushes Amy, who has awoken thanks to the freezing night air, and buckles her in, telling her it's going to be okay.
Her whimpers turn into tears when she realizes they're leaving. “I don't want to go, Dad. I want to stay with Mary. Please! I'll be so quiet she won't know I'm here.”
I walk over and give her a hug and a kiss. “I'm sure I'll see you soon.”
“Tomorrow?” she asks.
I bite my lip. “I'm not sure. I've got my delivery to make, and some last minute presents to wrap.”
“Christm
as day, then?” Her tiny hands grab mine, and she squeezes. “Please?”
“You just want me for my dog,” I joke.
She shakes her head, deadly serious. “Even if you didn't have Andy, I'd still love you.”
I want to unbuckle her and give her a marathon hug. It's like her words are gluing the fragments of my broken heart back together. I kiss her forehead. “It's time for you to go now, but I promise I'll see you soon. And in the meantime, I put some of my cake for Santa in a container underneath Chase's feet. Okay?”
She nods, and I step away, turning back toward the house. Instead of climbing into the driver seat, once the door shuts on Amy, Luke grabs me gently, spins me around and pulls me into his arms. He's fast this time, not slow. He kisses me urgently, his lips covering mine, his arms wrapping all the way around me. The ground beneath me spins, my heart beats a staccato rhythm, and my arms twine around his neck. I don't ever want him to stop.
But of course, eventually he does. He can't let his kids sit in a running truck forever. I stand outside while he backs out, ignoring the freezing gusts of wind as long as I can still see his truck. Once he's gone, I walk back inside. I notice the wrapped horse stuffed animal is still sitting on my end table.
I text him right away, in case he wants to turn around. YOU LEFT THE HORSE TOY.
Ten minutes pass. Then another five. No response. Which probably means he's a responsible driver, which is good.
Finally, I hear a bing. UH OH. GUESS THAT MEANS YOU'LL HAVE TO COME HELP ME DROP OFF TOMORROW.
WAIT, DID YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE?
He replies with a single word. COSTANZA.
I show it to Trudy. “What the crap does that mean?”
A quick Google search shows me that George Costanza is a character on an old sitcom, Seinfeld. Trudy and I stay up half the night watching episodes until we figure out what he meant. In one episode, George Costanza leaves an alarm clock at the home of a woman he likes. He confesses it's part of his plan. Ladies may not like him initially, but if he spends enough time around them, he grows on them. He leaves things intentionally, so he can have a reason to see them. He does this over and over until they've fallen under his bizarre and awkward spell.
It's a cute reference, but Luke doesn't need gimmicks. He's already grown on me. In fact, I think he's more than grown on me. I think I might love him.
Chapter 23
My Sub-for-Santa drop off takes place at seven a.m. The girls' mother wants to hide the toys before her daughters wake up. When I return, filled with a sense of elation and excitement, I take Andy for a short two-mile jog.
When I drop her off at the house to run another three miles, she glares at me.
“You couldn't do more than two and a half miles yesterday. Be patient, we'll work up to more, okay?”
She drops her head on her paws and exhales dramatically. What a diva!
By the time I return home and shower, it's nine a.m. I spend twenty minutes picking up the gift I thought of for Luke. I'm proud of my idea, but a little nervous he won't understand it. I wrap the presents I picked for Amy and Chase, and do the best I can with Luke's oddly shaped present. I spend the rest of the morning making sugar cookies for tonight's party at Addy's house. I've made and taken sugar cookies on Christmas Eve for a decade.
I glance at my clock. Fifteen until noon. I have just enough time to meet Luke over at his drop-off. I text him.
I'LL MEET YOU AT YOUR DROP OFF?
He replies immediately. LUNCH AFTER?
WHAT ABOUT YOUR KIDDOS? I ask.
MY COUSIN HAS THEM UNTIL TWO.
I THOUGHT AMY WAS GOING?
Three little dots. I wait. THEN I FOUND OUT YOU WERE GOING, AND I WANTED MORE TIME WITH YOU. WITHOUT MUNCHKINS. I MAY HAVE BRIBED THEM WITH PEPPERMINT ICE CREAM. I'M NOT ASHAMED.
My smile is so wide, my mouth starts to hurt, but I don't want to seem too eager. I'LL MEET YOU AT THE DROP OFF AND WE CAN SEE FROM THERE.
Let him think he'll have to convince me.
I park behind his truck, and when I hop out of my car, Luke jumps out of his as well. He's wearing a brown leather jacket over a golden polo shirt and dark jeans. I almost forget to grab the wrapped horse, I'm so distracted by his presence.
He waits for me to reach him and snags my hand. “Uh, how are we going to carry all these presents while holding hands?”
Luke takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly. “Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But only for a moment.”
We carry the boxes inside one at a time. I notice several of the boxes are addressed to the parents, and I'm even more impressed by Luke's generosity. He must have a lot of expenses, what with his upcoming move, and Christmas for his own children, but he's gone above and beyond anyway.
Once we're done, the father in the family rushes over and hugs me, his eyes watery. “Thank you, muchas gracias. Díos te bendiga.”
“You're welcome,” I say. “We're happy to help.”
Luke takes my hand to walk me back to my car, and this time I don't pull away. “You never answered. Do you have time for lunch?”
“Sure,” I say. “As long as we're fast.”
He beams. “Pick the place. Anything's fine with me.”
“How about Boston Market?” I ask.
His eyebrows rise. “I give you carte blanche, and you pick a fast food place?”
I shrug. “I love their food at the holidays. Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, and yams. Cinnamon apples, and best of all, their cornbread.”
He pulls me in for a hug. “Boston Market it is, then.”
We drive over separately since we arrived that way. Luke and I walk through the line and tell them what we want, and then we carry our trays over to an empty table. There aren't too many people in here on Christmas Eve.
“I know it's Christmas, but is there any chance me and the kids can come by tomorrow?” Luke asks. “I know it's a busy day, but we'd all love to see you. In fact, Amy packed a bag this morning. She informed me that when I leave for my new job, she's going to stay with you.”
I shake my head. “No, she didn't say that.”
Luke purses his lips and exhales. “She did indeed.”
“Well, I'm sorry she's giving you a hard time. I know I was rough on you before, but I promise I won't encourage that kind of nonsense.”
“I know you won't. But she helped me pick something for you, and we'd love to come and drop it off. We can be fast if you're super busy.”
I grin. “I've got something for you guys, too. Nothing big, and I really hope you're not upset when you see what I bought for the kiddos.”
He shakes his head. “As long as it doesn't have a heartbeat, it's fine with me.”
I frown. “Uh oh. I'm not sure whether elephants are returnable. I think the tent I bought this one under had a sign that said, 'Absolutely no returns or exchanges.'“
Luke snatches a bite of my cinnamon apples.
“Hey,” I object. “Those are mine! You should've gotten your own.”
“It's more fun to take them from you.”
His eyes sparkle, and his smile fills me with joy, and the words just tumble out of my mouth uncensored. “I love you.”
Luke's bluish-grey eyes widen and his mouth opens half an inch. He blinks at me several times. I want to curl up into a tiny ball and disappear into a crack in the floor, but there's nowhere to go.
“I'm sorry,” I say. “I—”
He puts one hand over mine, and the other over his heart. “Say it again.”
“I'm sorry.”
He shakes his head. “No, not that, goofball. The other part.”
I look at the wall and then back at him. “I don't think—”
He squeezes my hand. “Please.”
I sigh and force the words out. “I think I love you, Luke Manning, fixer of closet lights, frenetic tidier, phenomenal father.”
He breathes in through his nose and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he's beaming at me. “I love you too, M
ary Wiggin, genius with numbers, philanthropist, surrogate mother to so many, and devoted friend.”
“I don't want you to move,” I say, “and I know that's selfish of me. I know you like the change of pace, and you're showing your kids the world. I'm sorry I said you're a bad father for moving them. Really you're a great father. I just wanted you to stay, and I didn't know how to ask, so I tried to make it about something else.”
He takes my other hand in his, too. “You were right. I was hurt, I was offended and I didn't want to hear it. When my wife died. . . We didn’t find out she had cancer until she was in her second trimester with Chase. She stubbornly refused to do a single thing, including more testing, until he was born. She didn’t even get to know him.”
He closes his eyes, but doesn't let go of my hands. “I loved her so much, Mary. Losing her decimated my heart, pulverized it. I took care of my kids, and I worked, and that's all I did. About a year ago, I decided I missed doing adult things. I started going out with friends and family, but they kept trying to pair me up with people. Ridiculous people. Clingy people. Annoying people. It made me nuts.”
“Sounds like your friends care about you, but I've been there too. Setups suck. In the last two months, I've gone out with a computer nerd so awkward he never met my eye in the entire two hours we spent at dinner, a taxidermist who pointed out to me every single animal we passed and how he'd preserve it after it died, and a slick corporate lawyer who didn't talk about anything but money. I'm also pretty sure the lawyer can't keep straight the things that actually happened in his life, and what things he's embellished. Either that, or he really did hike Mount Everest a week after arguing a landmark case before the Supreme Court. Which would require he have mountain goat blood.”
Luke releases my hands and starts eating again. “Oh man, before I met you, I went out with a ballerina who wouldn't consume anything but veggie sticks and fruit juice, a psychologist who spent the entire date analyzing me, which was painful and ridiculous, and a Mary Kay lady, who honest to goodness, gave me a skincare kit for my hands. I still get text messages from her every week or so advertising the deals of the week.”
