Yuletide Redemption

Parker still sat on the rug, but his little legs pumped back and forth as he laughed, both fists full of the fluffy material. Sam’s discomfort faded at the sight of such delight.

“You do exercises?” She resumed her spot on the couch, leaving Parker where he was to enjoy the rug.

“I did physical therapy nearly every day for the first year after the accident. I was making decent progress until I fell almost at the year mark. Ever since the operation in June, my knee’s been weak and stiff. I still do a sequence of exercises each morning.” It wasn’t enough. He knew it. Had known it for months. But the longer he stayed away from therapy, the more daunting it became.

“I had to learn how to eat again. A few spots are painful to touch.” She pointed to the scar on her cheekbone then to her chin. “It’s hard.” Her tone softened. “What you’re doing is hard.”

It was hard. No one understood how hard.

Except maybe her. Which made him like her even more.

“Can you drive me to the rehab center next week?” he asked gruffly. “I have appointments scheduled Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Ten o’clock each morning.”

“Sure.” She typed the information into her phone. “Anything else?”

“Not right now.” He wasn’t ready for her to go, though. She distracted him from the monotony his life had become. “Tell me about your life before the accident.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Celeste rummaged through the diaper bag and handed Parker a small stuffed dog. He promptly shoved the ear in his mouth. “I answered phones for an insurance agency. My major didn’t exactly help my job prospects.”

“What was your major?”

“History.”

“You don’t want to teach?” His muscles loosened as the ice worked.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about getting certified.” She gave him a shy glance. “It depends. A lot has changed.”

Parker squealed and the floppy dog flew through the air. He crawled after it. Sam grinned. Yes, he could see how things had changed. She had a baby to care for.

“What about you?” she asked. “Do you think you’ll work again?”

The thought of not working again horrified him almost as much as the thought of living out his days in a wheelchair. “Yes.”

“The dealership?”

“Uh-huh.” He tightened the wrap. As much as he’d tried to deny it, he craved his job. He’d been toying with the idea of printing off last month’s profit-and-loss statement again. Maybe this time he could get through it without vomiting. “I oversaw Sheffield Auto. My brothers and I had meetings every Friday morning at the closest dealership—one of Tommy’s—to go over quotas, employees, budgets, you name it.”

And he’d been in charge. Finally a respected part of the family business instead of the pesky little brother. Man, he missed it.

“Do you miss it?”

It was as if she’d read his mind.

“Yeah.”

“You should go to one of the meetings.”

“I don’t know.” He frowned as the view of his propped leg greeted him. He’d gone from annoying little brother to respected member of the company to cripple. He was afraid of breaking down in front of his brothers and dad. Could he return to the job he’d thrived on?

Parker hauled himself up to a standing position, then fell back on his bottom. He chewed on the toy again.

“Would they come here?” she asked.

They probably would. But he wanted out of this cottage. Wanted to be the CEO, not the victim.

Was he capable, though? The accident had injured him in ways he didn’t want anyone to know. “I’ll see how I’m feeling after a couple of weeks.”

Her sweet smile made him want to declare he would be at those meetings, but he knew better than to make promises he couldn’t keep. The only thing worse than being pitied would be for Bryan, Tommy and Dad to witness him having an emotional breakdown.

The last thing he wanted was another devastating setback. He had to be careful, which meant playing it safe and taking things slow with his leg—and with his life.

* * *

Monday morning Celeste craned her neck to peer over the counter. Parker sat on his play mat and grunted as he gripped a toy airplane over his head. When he shook it, music played and lights flashed. She had five minutes before she had to buckle him into his car seat. Today was Sam’s first day of physical therapy, and she’d promised she’d get him there early. A thrill of excitement sped through her veins at the thought of seeing him again. He had a kind heart. It matched his face, which kept flashing before her when she closed her eyes at night.

He was way out of her league. Too handsome, too next-door, too everything.

She frowned at the drizzle outside. Sam had already told her he would be in the wheelchair since he couldn’t take the chance of hurting his leg using the crutches. What if he slipped getting into her minivan? And would she be able to help him in and out without hurting him?

After a final swipe of the dishcloth over the counter, she hustled to the front hall closet for her jacket. Then she nestled Parker into the car seat, ignoring his protests at being separated from the toy. He arched his back and fussed as she clicked the straps into place.

“I know, baby.” Grabbing the diaper bag and her purse, she tensed at his increasing cries and lifted the carrier as her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Celeste? This is Sue Roper from Rock of Ages church.”

Brandy’s old church. Dread pooled in Celeste’s stomach.

“Yes, hello, Sue.”

“I know you’re raising Parker now, and I wasn’t sure if you were aware that Brandy’s grandmother, Pearl, recently moved to an assisted living facility.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been meaning to visit.” Grandma Pearl. The woman had hosted countless tea parties in her parlor for Celeste and Brandy when they were little girls. Rheumatoid arthritis and weak bones had forced her into an apartment in assisted living. Guilt pinched Celeste. She hadn’t visited the endearing lady in a while. At least her parents had brought Parker to see her a few times.

“She would love that,” Sue said. “But that’s not why I’m calling. We’re preparing the children’s Christmas Eve program, and we have a favor to ask.”

Parker’s cries became wails. A favor? She rocked the carrier. “Is there any way I can call you back?”

“It will only take a minute.”

“Okay, just give me a second.” Celeste suppressed a sigh and took Parker out of the car seat, settling him in her arms. His cries stopped instantly. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Well, Pearl is very near and dear to us, so the ladies and I have been discussing it, and we want to give her a Christmas surprise. Since Brandy died, she’s been really down. Still comes to church, thankfully. Lou Bonner brings her each Sunday. The one thing that brightens her up is Parker. She always talks about him and shows us the pictures you send her.”

Celeste’s chest tightened. She should be doing more for Grandma Pearl than sending a few pictures now and then.

Sue continued. “Wouldn’t she love it if Parker was baby Jesus in the program? I can’t think of another gift that would make her happier. I know he’s a bit old for the part, but we’d love to have him for Pearl’s sake.”

In her head, Celeste instantly ticked off problems with the scenario. Parker wasn’t walking, but he was at a stage where he hated to be constrained. Having him in a Christmas program seemed overly ambitious. Then there was the fact Grandma Pearl went to Brandy’s old church.

There would be questions. And attention. The kind she avoided.

Sure, Sue was friendly on the phone, but what about Brandy’s other friends from church? Did they consider Celeste responsible for Brandy’s death?

Why wouldn’t they? She was the one who’d been driving.

“Um, he doesn’t sit all that well right now.”

“If he won’t sit still, he can be a sheep.”

She longed to decline, but this was for Grandma Pearl, and the woman was alone and, most likely, sad. Not to mention Brandy would have wanted Parker in the Christmas Eve program—she’d climb Mount Everest for her beloved grandmother.

“What would I have to do?” Parker tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but she held tight, pretending to blow him kisses. Anything to avoid a meltdown.

“Practices are Thursday nights starting after Thanksgiving. We’ll walk the children through their parts and fit them for their costumes. I know it’s a lot to ask, but we don’t know how many Christmases Pearl has left. Would you do this for her?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Celeste hung up with mixed feelings. Maybe Mom and Dad would take Parker to the practices. If not, she would act like an adult, drive him there herself and deal with it.

Wait. The church was on the same road as the accident site. If she drove Parker, she would have to pass the ditch, field and telephone pole where she’d lost so much.

The moments before the car spun out came back. The loud Christmas music, the laughter—what had they been laughing about?—the happy, girls’-night-out feeling she always got when she was with Brandy.

She would never have it again.

Her stomach felt hollow. Mom and Dad would have to drive Parker, because she wasn’t ready to confront her past.

There wasn’t time to think about it now. She was late. Once again, she strapped Parker into the carrier. He whimpered, rubbing his eyes. She rushed down the porch steps into the rain, slid open the side door of her red minivan and locked Parker’s seat into the base before driving the short distance to Sam’s. Tossing her hood up to protect her head from the rain, she ascended the kitchen steps and knocked.

“I’ll meet you at the bottom of the ramp,” Sam yelled.

“Okay.” She hurried down the staircase and wiped her palms on her jeans, holding her breath when he rolled her way. “Do you need me to help?”

“No. Got it.”

As soon as he reached the passenger side, she held out her hand to help him into the van. He kept his weight on his left leg and got into the seat slowly and with concentrated effort. Parker had finally stopped crying. So far, so good.

“Let me put this in the trunk, and we’ll be on our way.” She clutched the hood together under her chin before awkwardly loading the chair in the back. Once inside the van, she checked on Parker, whose eyelids were heavy, and buckled her seat belt. “Sorry I’m late. Something unexpected came up.”

“For a minute, I thought you stood me up.”

Stand him up? Not in a million years.

“No, nothing like that. A lady from Brandy’s church called.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah...well, no. Not really.” She shook her head, swallowing the knot in her throat. “Never mind. I don’t know what to think. They want to surprise Brandy’s grandma by having Parker be baby Jesus in the Christmas Eve service.”

“Why do you sound upset? Don’t you like her grandma?”

“I love her. She’s sweetness personified. In fact, I feel guilty I haven’t visited her in a while. She adores Parker.”

“Don’t feel guilty. You’re doing the best you can.”

The road wound through trees. The wipers swished rapidly as she sneaked a peek over at Sam’s profile. She guessed he smiled a lot—or used to, anyway—by the faint creases around his blue eyes. Did her heart just flutter? He was so handsome, even if he was worried. The lines in his forehead and slight bulge in the vein near his temple didn’t lie.

“Are you nervous about today?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Sam faced her, and her stomach dipped. My, oh my.

She turned and continued along the two-lane road. The forest gave way to farm fields, some with faded yellow cornstalks standing limp in the rain, others with dried stumps of harvested crops. The trees in the distance looked like a watercolor painting of fall colors.

“What else is going on?” The way he said it gave her the impression he’d welcome a distraction.

“I’m still not sure about this baby Jesus thing in the Christmas Eve program.”

“He’s pretty young.” Sam frowned, looking back at Parker. She checked her rearview. He’d fallen asleep.

“Yes, but if he won’t cooperate, they’ll let him be a sheep.”

“Cute.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin, and his eyes twinkled. “I’d like to see that.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“I’m not a hundred percent sold on the idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, like you said, he’s pretty young. Not even walking yet. And I would have to take him to practices.”

“What’s so bad about that?” He shifted, watching her.

Everything. Brandy’s friends might blame me. And then there’s my face. She tilted her chin up. “The church is a mile north of where my car spun out last December. I would have to pass it to get to the practices.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at the rain splashing on the window. “If it would make it easier, I could go with you.”

Celeste sucked in a breath. His offer burrowed into her heart. All her reasons for not taking Parker seemed petty. But reality set in. Then doubt. Sam would see other people’s reactions. She didn’t want him to think less of her.

“Thank you, but I can always ask my parents to take him.”

She could feel his stare but didn’t bother looking over. He didn’t understand, and she wasn’t explaining. She wished she could take him up on his offer. Wished she had met him before her accident, when things were different. When even a tongue-tied girl like her might have had a chance at dating a guy like him.

* * *

“You’ve been working on your upper body strength.”

“Every morning your voice echoes in my head, chiding me about working hard and pushing through.” Sam’s left leg trembled at the exertion of the last hour. His right hip was ready to explode. The pain differed from what he’d been feeling at home, though. He recognized it from all those months he’d worked with Dr. Rachel Stepmeyer. The pain of exertion brought a rush. And hope.

Last time he’d hoped, he’d been let down. How many times had he prayed for complete healing? He’d believed God would heal him, too. He’d memorized the Bible verse about being able to move a mountain with enough faith. His faith hadn’t lacked. God hadn’t listened to him.

God didn’t care.

“The good news is your muscles haven’t atrophied. You’re weaker, obviously, and you’ve lost some range of motion, but commit to your sessions and you’ll get it back. We have a new muscle stimulation system. It could help with your pain.” Dr. Stepmeyer typed something into her tablet. “I want you out of the wheelchair more. I know it’s hard, but the crutches will force you to build muscle in your legs.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That brought a hint of a smile to her face. She handed him a brochure about muscle stimulation. “Read this over and let me know if you want to try it.”

“I will.” He tucked it between his thigh and the side of the wheelchair.

“See you on Wednesday.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Sam?”

He waited.

“It’s good to have you back.”

Nodding, he spun the chair and wheeled away. Rain still pounded against the glass door. He didn’t see Celeste’s minivan, so he waited near the entrance. Ever since his last doctor’s appointment a few months ago, he’d pushed aside the nagging worry that the fall in the shower had killed his chances at ever walking unassisted. After the last surgery, Dr. Curtis had warned him it might take two more years for him to heal. If he healed...

But today Dr. Stepmeyer had assured him he just needed to keep working at it.

His thoughts turned to the conversation earlier in the car. Sam had made the offer to accompany Celeste to the practices because he thought she needed a friend. And, if he was honest, because he’d been thinking about her more and more each day. He wanted to spend time with her. Enjoyed talking to her. She didn’t put pressure on him the way his family did.

The fact she was avoiding the site of her accident didn’t surprise him. What did? How quickly she turned him down.

He wasn’t used to women turning him down.

Celeste’s red minivan stopped at the sidewalk. He pressed the button for the doors to automatically open. The handicap buttons were getting old. His life was getting old.

Would Celeste have said yes if he wasn’t in a wheelchair?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Chapter Three

Celeste pushed the dust mop across Sam’s living room floor while Parker stood, knees bouncing as he held on to the wooden coffee table. For three weeks she and Sam had been settling into a comfortable routine, one with clear expectations. She took Sam to and from physical therapy three days a week, shopped for his groceries at the crack of dawn on Tuesday mornings and cleaned on Fridays after his physical therapy session. Sometimes she wished their relationship wasn’t so businesslike.

Her mind wandered to her clients’ long to-do list waiting at home. She was a virtual assistant to busy, successful people, and working while raising Parker was proving more challenging than she’d expected. To fit in all the projects—from emails and phone calls to invoicing—she got up at six, worked a few hours and did the bulk of her duties when Parker napped or after he went to bed.

Then there was her main charge, Sam. At least she’d managed to nip her growing attraction to him in the bud by telling herself over and over that he was off-limits. Sam treated her for what she was—the caregiver who lived next door.

She sighed. One more room and she’d be finished with the light cleaning he required. This place needed some music, preferably upbeat Christmas songs. Hard to believe next week was Thanksgiving already.

“You think today will be the day Parker makes his big move?” Sam swung into the room on his crutches. After his therapy session, he’d disappeared to his bedroom to shower and change. His damp hair looked darker than usual, and his smile made her stop sweeping midstroke.

Look away! He can’t help he’s gorgeous.

Now that she was around more, she’d taken to studying him—to make sure he was okay. While around six feet tall, he wasn’t large. He had muscular arms, but his legs were lean from lack of use. Some days his face faded white and his lips tightened to a thin line. Those days she knew he was in a lot of pain. But today he had a relaxed air about him. He settled into his chair, setting the crutches down as he carefully straightened his leg on the ottoman.

He waved to Parker. “I think he’ll start walking on his own this week.”

“I hope so. Everything I’ve read said babies usually walk unassisted by twelve months. His pediatrician told me not to worry, but I can’t help it.”

Parker made a goo-goo noise and zoomed around the table, not taking his hands off it. He tripped, toppling over on his side.

“Oh!” She lurched forward, but Sam held his hand out.

“Let him be. He’ll figure it out.”

She paused, waiting for a cry, but Parker pushed himself back up and held on to the table once more. He stared at Sam with a big grin, then took a wobbly step toward him.

“Look at that! He’s doing it!” Sam held his arms open wide, reaching as far as his extended leg would allow him. “Come on over, buddy.”

Celeste whipped her phone out of her back pocket, fumbling to enter the passcode. She pressed Video and directed it Parker’s way. He stood immobile with his hands in the air, but he hadn’t taken a step yet. Come on, come on, you can do it, little man!

Parker lifted his chunky leg and promptly fell on his bottom. She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, well. He’ll do it one of these days.”

“Maybe today. You never know.” Sam made funny faces at Parker, who laughed and crawled to him, pulling himself to the edge of Sam’s chair. Sam picked him up.

At the sight of Parker on Sam’s lap, Celeste’s heart swelled. He always had a smile for her nephew, often shaking his tiny hand or ruffling the hair on his head, but this was the first time he’d held the boy. The picture they presented? Priceless. But unwanted thoughts surged through her mind. Josh should be here cradling his son. What if Parker never has a daddy?

What if she ended up raising Parker alone forever? It was a scenario she knew could come true. What guy would want to raise her nephew and wake up to her scars every morning?

Celeste was it for Parker. Part of her loved being his mom, but the other part worried she’d never be enough. The baby had lost his mom and dad, and he was stuck with his aunt who’d basically become a recluse.

She grabbed the dust mop with more force than necessary and swept the rest of the floor while Sam made funny explosion noises and tickled Parker, who giggled loudly. Outside, the wind blew a few straggling brown leaves across the deck. Winter had arrived. Snow would be coming soon.

“Why don’t you take a break, Celeste?”

With a few taps she emptied the dishpan in the trash. She never lingered after cleaning, but then, Sam never asked her to stay, either. What would it hurt? Parker looked so content on his lap she didn’t have the heart to tear him away. “Okay.”

She took a seat on the leather couch. Crossed one leg over the other. Had no clue what to do next. Parker yawned.

“I noticed you running the other day.” Sam tucked him under his arm. Be still her heart. There was something very appealing about Sam holding a child. “Your parents still helping out?”

“Yes. They miss him. They swing by after work a few days a week. They’ll be here Sunday, too.”

“Good.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, either. His eyes darted around the room. “I didn’t know you ran.”

“I haven’t as much lately. The days are getting shorter, so my long runs are numbered.”

“Oh?” He adjusted his leg, holding Parker firmly. Parker’s eyes had grown heavy, and he let out another big yawn.

“It’s kind of hard with Parker. I have a jogging stroller, but for me, running is a solitary sport. It’s not the same pushing a stroller. I’d rather have my arms moving.”

“What about a treadmill?”

She twisted her face, sticking her tongue out. “Yuck. Boring. I’m best outside.”

“I take it you’ve been doing it a long time?”

“Running used to be a big part of my life.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, let’s see.” She tapped her finger against her chin and flinched, suddenly remembering the tender spot. “I started running cross-country in seventh grade. I ran varsity all four years of high school. Got a partial college scholarship out of it, too.”

“Impressive.”

She diverted her attention to her lap. “Running kept me focused, but I didn’t give enough thought to life after college. It’s probably why I have a degree I’m not using.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Well, that makes two of us. I’m not using mine, either.” He frowned. “I think I need to change that.” She waited for him to say more on the subject, but he shook his head. “I take it you didn’t have dreams of marathons?”

“Oh, I had those, all right. I saw myself as the next Joan Benoit.”

“Who is she?” He gave her a pointed stare, his eyes playful.

“An amazing American runner.”

He looked suitably impressed. “So what happened?”

She shrugged, brushing a piece of lint from her jeans. “No matter how hard I trained, I wasn’t as fast as the top runners. I got injured my junior year of college. I’d had tendinitis and other problems off and on, but the stress fracture took a long time to heal. My college career was a disappointment. I did end up running in a few marathons after college.”

“Not anymore?”

“No.” Memories flitted to her. The feel of packed earth beneath her feet at all those high school races. Sweat dripping down her back as she pushed herself to stay conditioned on lonely roads during the summer. Lifting weights to get an edge. Being top ten in her district, but not good enough to take the state title. She missed those days.