A Mom For Christmas

“I want to be a ballerina. I want to drift like a feather and wear beautiful costumes.” She spread her arms and twirled around the office.

Beth couldn’t help but smile. The child was adorable. “Well, you can if you work hard. It takes a lot of training and dedication. Do you take dance lessons now?”

Chloe stopped. Her arms dropped to her sides, and her expression sagged nearly to the floor. “No. I can’t.”

She spoke the words with such drama that Beth had to swallow the chuckle that rose in her throat. “Why not?”

Chloe plopped her elbows on the desk, resting her chin in her hands. “Because my dad thinks it’s a waste of time, and he doesn’t want me to get caught up in silly dreams.”

Beth frowned and pressed her lips together. What kind of parent would tell a child such a ridiculous thing? “Dancing isn’t silly or a waste of time. It is a beautiful way to express emotion. It builds muscle and teaches discipline.”

“Daddy thinks it’s better if I play sports. He says they build character and teach a whole bunch of life lessons and stuff.”

Typical male. She could hear her brothers making the same argument. “What does your mother say?”

“Oh, she’s not here. She and Daddy got divorced a long time ago. She lives in Hollywood and has her own TV show. It’s called Brunch with Yvonne St. James.” Chloe’s eyes brightened, and she came around to stand beside Beth. “She’s going to send me a plane ticket so I can spend Thanksgiving with her, and she’s going to put me on her show, and I’ll get to meet lots of famous people. I hope I can meet Dustin Baker. I love his music, and he’s so dreamy.”

Beth had no idea who that was, but obviously he made Chloe’s little heart beat faster. “Are you going alone to see your mom?”

“Yes, ma’am. I can’t wait.”

Beth hadn’t been addressed as ma’am in a long time, and hearing it now set her back. It was common, even expected, here in the South, but having it directed at her made her feel older than her thirty years.

“I’ve seen lots of pictures of you.”

“You have?”

Chloe nodded. “Your mama talks about you a lot.” She pointed to the picture wall again. “I know your whole family. Those are your big brothers, Linc and Gil, and that’s their new wives, Gemma and Julie. Oh, and that’s Evan and Abby.” She walked toward the wall. “That’s Seth and Tori, but they aren’t here now ’cause Seth is in school to be a policeman and Tori is in California. I wonder if she knows my mom?”

“California is a pretty big place.”

Chloe shrugged. “I wish I had a big family. It’s just me and my dad. Oh, and my gram.”

“I’ve noticed you’re limping. Did you hurt yourself?”

She glanced down at her knee and shrugged. “I have Alls Goods Ladder.”

“She means Osgood-Schlatter.”

Beth’s pulse throbbed at the sound of Noah’s rich voice. She hadn’t heard him come in, nor had she expected to see him again so soon. He barely gave her a glance now.

“Chloe, what are you doing here? I told you to stay in my office.”

“Hi, Daddy. I wanted to see the pictures, and I got to meet the ballerina. I mean Miss Beth. Isn’t she beautiful?”

An awkward silence fell over the room like a suffocating blanket. Beth kept her gaze averted as Noah placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders in a protective gesture. Noah was a father? She hadn’t considered that. She’d heard he’d gotten married not long after he’d moved to California, which had added another spear to her punctured heart. Noah had never thought of her as anything other than a friend. His buddy.

She swallowed and grasped for control. “Osgood’s. That’s a knee problem, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “She injured her knee playing soccer and then had a growth spurt, which complicated things.” He squeezed Chloe’s shoulder. “She’s supposed to do her physical therapy exercises every day, but it’s like pulling teeth.”

“I hate them. They hurt and they’re boring.”

Beth could sympathize. “I know exactly how you feel. I had surgery on my knee, and I have to do PT exercises every day, too. It’s not fun, but if you’re going to get stronger and play soccer, you have to do them faithfully.”

Chloe screwed up her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest. “Great. I was hoping you’d be on my side.”

Beth chuckled softly. “The exercises don’t have to be boring. You can listen to music—that usually helps.”

“Is that what you do?”

She nodded. “I put on my favorite ballet warm-up music and pretend I’m dancing. You know dancing can help strengthen the other muscles in your legs and knees and speed your recovery.”

“Really? Dad, can Miss Beth teach me to dance? I’ll do my exercises if I can dance. Please?”

The deep scowl on Noah’s face made it clear he was unhappy with her suggestion. “Chloe, go on back to my office and collect your things. We’re going home.”

“Okay. ’Bye Miss Beth.”

The minute Chloe was gone, Noah approached her, his eyes narrowed and dark. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t encourage her to come over here.”

“Why? Apparently she visits my mother frequently.”

“That’s different. Your mother will always be here. You won’t. You said yourself you’ll be leaving as soon as you’re fully recovered.”

She had told him that even though she knew it wasn’t true. “And what does that have to do with Chloe visiting me?”

“I don’t want you filling her head full of ideas about your dancing career.”

Now she understood, sort of. “Is that why you don’t want her to take dancing lessons? Because of me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I want her to grow up with a practical, realistic view of the world, and I don’t want her sidetracked by pointless dreams of being a dancer or an actress or any of those careers that lead to disappointment.”

“Little girls need to dream, Noah. You had a few dreams, as I recall.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, but his gaze still held condemnation. “But I grew up and realized that dreams don’t come true.”

“You’re wrong. Dreams are what gives us hope and joy.”

“Hope and joy?” He shook his head. “Disappointment and heartbreak. Look where your dream has left you. I want better for Chloe.”

The hurt in his light blue eyes and the pain that pulled at the corner of his mouth stabbed like an ice pick to her heart. What had happened to turn the sweet, understanding boy she’d loved into an angry, closed-off man?

He held up his hands as if to ward off further discussion. “Just stop telling her dancing can help with her recovery.”

“It can. In fact, ballet is being used as therapy for people with Parkinson’s and a variety of other medical conditions. At the very least, it’ll encourage her to do her exercises. I’ve been through countless physical therapy sessions over the years, and the only way to get through much of it is to make it fun. What harm can it do?”

“Harm? Next she’ll want to be a dancer like you, and look where that leads.”

“Where does it lead, Noah? I had a wonderful career. I achieved everything I set out to accomplish. I fulfilled my dream.”

“But what did it cost you along the way? What did you give up to capture that dream, Beth? Was it really worth it?” He yanked open the door and left.

Beth clenched her teeth. She wanted to shout at him that yes, it had been worth it, but the words wouldn’t come. Why? She’d always been so sure of her direction, her purpose. She’d been blessed with a gift, and she’d used it to the fullest. Until the injury had derailed her future. But she’d make a comeback. She was still working out in her old studio at her mom’s house each morning. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To dance even if it wasn’t as the lead?

A small voice whispered in her ear. Is that what she wanted? Or was it what she was doing because there was nothing else? The last two years had taken a toll not only on her body, but also on her passion. She was still trying to sort out the shifts in her emotions from the accident. Now she was trying to swim through gelatin and figure out who she was and where she wanted to go.

Beth watched Noah walk away. Twelve years ago she’d handed him her heart, the bravest thing she’d ever done, and he’d tossed it aside. He’d gone on with his life, gotten married and had a child. He hadn’t bothered to contact her, so why was she the bad guy?

She looked across the entryway to Noah’s office as he and Chloe walked out. Chloe waved over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face. Dad may have laid down the law, but she had a feeling Chloe would find a way to come and visit her again. And she would make sure to invite her, despite what Noah had said.

Chapter Two

Noah parked the car behind the historic mansion and shut off the engine. The twelve-room Victorian home was one of the oldest in Dover. His great-great-grandparents had founded Dover, then known as Junction City, in the mid-1800s. After the great fire that destroyed many of the wooden structures, the town was rebuilt and renamed Do Over, which had evolved into Dover. The town’s most prominent citizens built their homes to the east of town, along Peace Street. Only half of the dozen original opulent dwellings remained. His grandmother refused to live anywhere else, despite the home being too large for her to care for and having more room than one woman needed.

Chloe darted ahead of him onto the broad back porch and into the house. Gram was one of the reasons he’d come home to Dover. He’d been fourteen when his dad’s small plane had crashed, killing him and Noah’s mother. He’d come here to live with Gram and Gramps. Now that Gram was alone and getting older, he’d moved in to help her out and give his daughter a chance to know her family.

Dover would hopefully provide a new beginning for him and Chloe. Dissatisfied with the hectic pace of life in San Francisco, he’d resigned from the large engineering firm he’d worked for and decided to start his own structural engineering company in Dover. His hometown would also be a more conservative place to raise Chloe, who was growing up too quickly for his liking.

His grandmother, Evelyn Carlisle, was in the kitchen listening to Chloe recount her day. He noticed Gram was using her cane today—a sign her arthritis was flaring up again.

“I wish I could be like her.” Chloe sighed loudly, a dreamy look on her face.

“Like who?”

“Miss Beth.”

Noah shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the chair. “No. You don’t.” He turned and saw a scowl on his gram’s face. He probably shouldn’t have said that, but he didn’t want his daughter’s head filled with notions of chasing fame.

“Yes, I do. She’s beautiful. I wish I could see her dance. I’ve only seen pictures.”

“I understand she is quite amazing. A very successful ballerina.” Gram raised her eyebrows. “She and your father were close friends in high school.”

Chloe grabbed his arm. “Really? Are you serious? You knew her? Did you see her dance? Was she gorgeous? Did she float like a dandelion puff?” Chloe spread her arms and twirled around the kitchen, bumping into the island.

“I never saw her dance.” Strange how he’d never realized that until now. He’d seen her in her studio warming up, but he’d never actually attended a performance. They’d been best friends, had shared everything, but at eighteen the thought of going to a ballet hadn’t been an option, even for a nerd like he’d been.

Chloe’s eyes widened. “I’m sure I could find videos of her on the internet. Can I look? Please?”

Refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but the pointed look from his gram told him to give in. She wasn’t above pointing out his parenting shortcomings. He really needed his own place, but he couldn’t leave her alone in this big house. “You can use my tablet, but sit here at the kitchen table to search.”

Chloe scooped up the device and started tapping the screen.

Gram put the finishing touches on the sandwiches she was preparing and handed him the plate. He plucked a stem of grapes from the fruit bowl and grabbed a couple of cookies from the jar before taking a seat at the island.

“I wondered how long it would take you to run into Beth again. She’s been home a while now.”

“How do you know that?”

“Francie told me.”

He’d forgotten that his gram and Beth’s mom were good friends. But then, he’d forgotten a lot about this place. He’d only been back in town a couple of months himself. “I ran into her yesterday.”

Gram set her own plate of food on the counter. “Hmm. That explains why you came home hissing like a snared alligator.”

“I did not.”

Gram shrugged. “How does she look? Has she changed much?”

“She’s too thin. But I guess she has to be. Her hair is shorter.” Softer looking, and it framed her face in long curvy strands that caressed her cheeks and made him want to brush them aside and feel the silky softness. “But otherwise she hasn’t changed.” She still had the sweet, childlike smile that made him want to hug her. Her hazel eyes, with their sooty lashes, were still as beguiling as ever, though they held a darker shade to them now. Maturity? Or sadness?

“Chloe seems taken with her.”

“Not for long. Beth told me herself that as soon as she’s recovered she’s going back to the ballet.”

Gram studied him a long moment. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Francie told me that her injury was career-ending. She’ll never dance professionally as a ballerina again. She’s facing an uncertain future.”

The bite of sandwich stuck in Noah’s throat. No. Gram had to be wrong. “Are you sure? She looked fine to me.” More than fine. He shut down that thought.

“That fall she took destroyed her knee, and then there were complications.”

“What fall?”

“Noah, don’t you know what happened?”

He didn’t have a clue. He’d made it a point not to keep track of her successes. “I knew she’d been injured, but that’s all.”

“Oh, it was a terrible thing. She was doing one of those big leaps and landed wrong and tore her ACL. Her mother thinks Beth is in denial over her situation. It’s very sad. That child was born to dance.”

That was one thing Noah could not deny. “Yes. She was.” The thought of Beth never dancing again left an unfamiliar chill in his chest. As much as he resented her passion for the dance, and the way she’d shut out everyone, he knew how much it meant to her. It had shaped her entire life. How would she cope without it? What was she going to do now?

“Daddy, I found some videos. Can I watch them?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. Chloe sat beside him, and he couldn’t resist glancing at the tablet as she scrolled through the selection of clips featuring Bethany Montgomery. There were dozens. “Pick three. That’s all.”

Chloe clicked on the one labeled Aurora’s Act 3 Variation in The Sleeping Beauty. He had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. Beth appeared in a short tutu jutting out from her tiny waist. The puffy sleeves of her costume highlighted the graceful curves of her neck and shoulders. She rose on her toes, her arms floating gracefully as she began to dance with quick, precise steps. Part of him wanted to watch. To see her passion in action. But then reality shoved its way into his thoughts. There was only room for one love in her life, and it hadn’t been him. That’s what he had to remember.

Pushing back from the table, he carried his plate to the sink, then headed for the room off the parlor that had once been his grandfather’s office. Now it was his. He had a four-inch binder of Mississippi building codes to study. He focused on the numbers in front of him, but he couldn’t fully shake the vision of Beth on the screen, moving as if gravity had no claim on her. Even in the few moments he’d watched, her joy as she performed was impossible to miss. The thought of his Beth never dancing again was a cruel twist of fate he’d never have wanted for her.

His Beth. Ha. She’d never been his, even if that’s how he’d always thought of her. He’d fallen for Beth from the first moment he’d started tutoring her in math their senior year. She’d missed several weeks of school due to illness, and when the teacher had approached him about helping her catch up, he’d jumped at the chance. They’d quickly become friends. Neither of them had fit in well at school, and their friendship had filled a void for both of them.

He’d been sullen and withdrawn, burying himself in school and video games. Beth had been the shy, pretty girl, a self-proclaimed dance geek. Her friendship had drawn him out of his lingering anger and grief over losing his parents, and had brought a new life and light to his existence. He’d never confessed his true feelings, fearing it would destroy their relationship. Deep down he’d believed a gangly, self-conscious guy like him had little chance with an elegant, talented girl like Beth.

But something had changed between them those last months before graduation. Beth had auditioned for the Forsythe Company but hadn’t made the cut. She was devastated, and he’d done all he could to comfort and encourage her. The incident had drawn them closer together, and Noah had seen a new sparkle in her hazel eyes and a more intimate curve to her lips when she smiled at him. They’d touched more, laughed more and shared longing looks. He’d been certain it was love.

But he’d been wrong. She’d walked out of his life without so much as a goodbye, leaving him emotionally bleeding and giving him his first lesson in believing in dreams.

It was only later that he learned a position had opened up with the ballet suddenly, and Beth had gone to New York to pursue her dancing dream. That’s when the truth had hit. Hard. In Beth’s life, dance came first. Always. Friends were easily discarded, like an old pair of toe shoes. Dreams of a future with Beth were just that. Empty dreams. And dreams didn’t come true. It was a lesson he would learn well over the years.

It was probably good he’d never revealed his heart. Rejecting his friendship had been painful enough. Rejecting his love would have been too humiliating to bear. For the time being, he’d stick to his plan. Avoid Beth at all costs, and when she was gone he could pick up and move forward.

But how would Beth move forward? Who would help her face the loss of the thing she loved most? An unwanted flicker of protectiveness pinged along his nerves.

It wasn’t his problem. She’d made her choice, and she would have to adjust to the consequences.

* * *

“Please, Daddy, let Miss Beth teach me how to dance. I promise I’ll do my exercises every day.”

Noah placed the salt and pepper shakers in the cupboard after supper that night. Chloe had talked of nothing else all through the meal. “Just because Miss Beth thinks dancing is a good idea doesn’t mean it is. It could make your injury worse.”

Silverware clanged as Gram placed it in the dishwasher. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. She needs something to encourage her to do those exercises.”

Noah shut the cabinet door with more force than necessary. “Chloe is fine. She just needs to do what she’s supposed to.”

Gram exhaled a puff of air as she glared over her glasses. “I’m supposed to exercise for my arthritis, too, but it’s uncomfortable so I don’t do it. I know it’ll help eventually, but getting to the ‘eventually’ part takes too long. Why don’t you talk to Pete Jones, her physical therapist, and see what he says? Or better yet, have Pete consult with Beth about the pros and cons of letting her dance.”

“Out of the question.”

“Honestly.” Gram faced him, a deep scowl on her face. “Would you feel the same if it was anyone other than Beth? I would have thought you’d have gotten over her long ago.”

“There was nothing to get over. We were friends. It ended. I simply don’t want Chloe getting silly dreams in her head. I want her to have a secure future and a job that will provide a good living. Not something like dancing that could end suddenly or never take off at all.”

Gram placed the decorative candle back in the center of the breakfast room table. “Like moving to Hollywood and having your own talk show.”

Noah set the tea pitcher in the fridge and shut the door. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Gram untied her apron and hung it on a peg at the end of the counter. “Have you heard from Yvonne?”

Noah groaned softly. Another sore subject. His ex-wife and her utter disregard for their child. “Not since she texted Chloe about sending her a plane ticket to come out to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving.”

“Do you think she’ll follow through?”

“No. And I’ll have to tell my daughter yet again that her mother is too busy with her career to find time to spend with her.”

“Maybe having time with Beth and learning to dance would help soften the blow.”

Noah ground his teeth. “Until Beth packs up and heads back to New York without warning. Chloe doesn’t need another woman in her life pushing her aside when something more exciting comes along.”

“Are you so sure that’ll happen? Her mother says her ballet career is over.”

Noah shook his head. “You don’t know Beth the way I do. If she makes up her mind to dance again, then she will. It’s the only thing she really cares about.”

“That’s understandable. She devoted her life to being a ballerina, and I know how competitive the dance world is. She had to give it one hundred percent of her time and focus to succeed.”

“No. She had to give up everything and everyone to succeed.” He glanced at his gram, intending to drive home his point, but she was looking back at him with a knowing expression and a glint in her blue eyes as if she’d discovered something delightful.

“You know, most friendships fade away after school. Why are you still hanging on to this one?”

“I’m not hanging on. She was a friend I thought I could count on, and she wasn’t. The only thing I can depend on with Beth is that she’ll leave.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Her being back just reminds me that when it comes to women, my judgment is useless.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She sat down. “You’re a lot like your father was. He felt things deeply, but he didn’t express them. He had a tender heart and it was easily wounded. He fell in love with your mother the moment they met. They worked together for two years before he even asked her out. He almost lost her to another guy because he was afraid to share his feelings.”

“I don’t have feelings. She killed those long ago.”

“Beth did—or was that Yvonne’s doing?”

Noah was not having this conversation. “Gram, I love you, but I’m a big boy. I can manage my own life.” He strode from the room, but not before hearing a skeptical huff from his grandmother. She always claimed she knew him better than he knew himself. Unfortunately, she was usually right.

* * *

Bethany scrolled through the MLS for Dover and the nearby areas looking for a four-bedroom, two-bath ranch on ten acres. She’d tuned in Christmas music on the radio, and the mellow notes of “White Christmas” filled the air, but keeping her focus was a challenge. After a while the houses all began to look the same. She could never understand how her mother derived so much satisfaction from hunting down homes for sale and finding people to buy them. She printed out a couple of prospects, then stood and walked to the back room to get a fresh glass of sweet tea.

She was grateful to her mom for paying her to work at Montgomery Real Estate, but she’d have to find something else to do if she stayed in Dover. The thought gouged a channel across her stomach. She didn’t want another job. She wanted to dance. It’s all she’d ever wanted. But if she listened to her doctors and her physical therapist, she wouldn’t be returning to the Forsythe Company. They felt certain with enough recovery time and continued PT she’d be able to dance, but classical ballet was not recommended. It would be too easy to sustain the same injury again.

Beth refused to accept their diagnosis. She’d heard of many ballerinas who had suffered an ACL reconstruction and went on to dance for several more years. She would dance again. She had to. What else was there for her? Eight to five in her mother’s office? She wasn’t qualified for much else. She’d given up her chance at a degree when she’d joined the Forsythe Company.