Полная версия
A Child's Christmas
Paige kissed his forehead and skimmed her hand over his. With a final longing glance at her father, she accompanied her mother out of the room. Iris gamboled after them to the doorway. There she paused, considered and did a quick shuffle. With a small sigh, she returned to the foot of the easy chair to curl up by her master again.
Paige prepared a pot of coffee while her mother set out mugs, plates, napkins and—despite Paige’s protests—some homemade biscuits.
With their hands joined across the kitchen table, Paige told her mother everything there was to tell. When they finished the first pot of coffee, Charlotte brewed another. Painful as it was for Paige to share her burden, she did feel slightly better. They sat at the table, eyes brimming with tears.
“Honey, what can I do to help?”
“Just be here for me, Mom.”
Charlotte squeezed Paige’s hands. “Have I ever not been?”
On a long breath, Paige turned her hand over and curled her fingers around her mother’s.
“Do you need money?”
Paige heaved a huge sigh. “Of course. But I’ll manage.”
“How much do you need?”
“Mom, you can’t. Where would you get it?”
“Our savings. If need be, we can borrow against the house.”
“Mom, no! You need your savings to live on. And how would you repay a loan? You’re already stretching your retirement benefits as it is.”
Charlotte patted Paige’s hand. “Let me worry about that. Jason is our priority.” She gave her daughter a firm look. “If you need money, you tell me.”
Paige sighed again. “I will, but I can’t let you use your savings or take any equity out of the house.”
“What about Mark? Does he know?”
“No.” Paige realized her answer sounded abrupt, but given how things had ended with her ex-husband four years ago—over Jason’s initial diagnosis—she couldn’t help it. “I can’t see him offering any assistance.”
Charlotte peered at Paige over her glasses. It was the look that had put fear into Paige as a child. “Maybe not. But he is Jason’s father.”
“You remember what happened the first time Jason was ill. Remember, that’s why I decided to trade off child support for sole legal custody. I can’t risk that again, for either of us.”
“But he has a right to know.”
“I’ll think about it.” That was the most Paige was prepared to commit.
* * *
THEY HAD A quiet dinner together, and Paige decided to leave early the next morning. She’d originally planned to stay three days but was anxious to get back to Jason. The weather forecast was also calling for inclement weather the next day.
After breakfast, Paige packed her small bag and stowed it in the trunk of the Honda. Her father was back in the den, in his favorite chair, Iris at his feet, when she went to say good-bye.
“Hi, Dad.” Paige sank down on one knee in front of her father and rewarded the faithful Iris with a scratch behind her ears.
Her father lowered the paper he’d been reading, then gave her a warm, friendly smile. “Well, hello, young lady.”
Paige placed a hand on his knee. “It’s me. Paige.” She needed to try before she left, just to see if he would remember her at all.
“Paige...” He rolled her name around his tongue. “It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?”
Paige continued to smile, but she withdrew her hand. “Yes, it is.”
“Such a lovely name for a lovely young woman.” He looked vague for a moment. “I’ve always favored it, I think.”
Paige felt the sting of tears, lowered her eyelashes and gave her attention to the dog. There was no reason her father should see her pain. When the mist had cleared, she reached into the pocket of her shirt, pulled out a recent school picture of Jason and held it out to him.
Stephen took the picture and examined it for a minute while Paige tried to distract herself by rubbing Iris’s belly. “What a handsome young man,” Stephen said. He shifted his gaze to Paige. “He resembles you.”
She swallowed the sob that bubbled up in her throat. “This is Jason. He’s my son.”
Stephen pursed his lips and nodded decisively. “Yes. I thought so.” He took one last look at the picture before handing it back. “A very handsome boy, as I said. You should be proud.”
Paige swallowed hard again. “You can keep it if you like.”
Stephen lowered his eyes to the picture once more. A smile spread across his face. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”
With a herculean effort, Paige held back her tears. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe, before I go?”
“How sweet of you to ask.” He glanced at his watch, studied it for a moment while his mouth worked, then looked up again. “It should be time for my walk soon, but a cup of tea would be very nice.”
“I’ll get it for you.” Paige rose. On impulse, she leaned forward and gave her father a hug. He responded to her affection by wrapping one arm around her back, his head just above her shoulder, his mouth near her ear.
Because of the proximity, Paige caught his softly whispered words. “You’re my darling girl, Paige. You are.” When she straightened, the vague look had returned to his eyes.
CHAPTER FOUR
PAIGE WAS RELIEVED that the nasty weather held off during her drive home. Emotionally and physically drained, she didn’t think she was up to coping with treacherous road conditions. A couple of blocks from home, she pulled into a gas station and filled up the Honda. The least she could do was return it to Chelsea with a full tank.
She parked it in Chelsea’s assigned spot, retrieved her overnight bag and headed inside. None too soon, as the first flakes of snow started to fall.
She dropped her bag inside the door to embrace Jason, who rushed into her arms. She held him tight and breathed in the baby powder fragrance of his shampoo. If there was a better feeling than holding her son, she couldn’t imagine it.
Mrs. Bennett joined them by the door. Paige understood the silent support in her eyes and knew she wouldn’t ask how things had gone with Jason in the room. She thanked Mrs. Bennett for taking care of her son.
“No trouble at all, my dear. We enjoyed ourselves. Jason, make sure you show your mother what you’ve been working on.”
Jason did just that after Paige had put her things away. He’d painted a winter scape with a large snowman that looked a lot like Frosty.
“See?” He thrust out a printout of a photo. “It’s the snowman Chelsea and I built!”
Paige examined the photo, then the painting again. The likeness was undeniable. Her son had a remarkable talent. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “You had a nice time while I was gone?”
“Yeah, Chelsea took the picture that I used for the painting,” he replied, but the light in his eyes had dimmed.
Paige stroked his hair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“I was sick, Mom. Like before.”
She immediately placed her palm on his forehead, checking for fever. Since Jason had started his treatments a few days earlier, they were both adjusting to the cyclical swings in his health. “How are you feeling now?”
“Better. Mrs. Bennett took my blood pressure, too. She said it was fine. She wrote it down in your journal.”
Paige looked over the notes in the journal she kept of Jason’s health. With relief, she saw that everything seemed okay now.
He’d always had a hard time immediately after a treatment, especially with the nausea, but got progressively better. She knew from experience that the second week after a treatment was generally good for him. Of course, as the cycle progressed, the effects built up and he felt increasingly worse, particularly right after the treatments. Paige not only accompanied him when the new cancer drug was administered, but tried her best to stay home with him the day or two after, when he was feeling the worst. He was already missing a lot of school because of his various appointments.
She was very grateful for her friends in the building—Chelsea, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and her next-door neighbor, Mr. Weatherly. She could count on one or another of them to help out if she found herself in a bind.
The reality was that Jason needed her, and her whole world was Jason. Nothing mattered more than making his life easier and taking care of him when he was unwell.
Paige accepted this, and she had no complaints—if only Jason could be healthy again.
* * *
JUST THREE WEEKS before Christmas, and it had been one of those days, Daniel Kinsley thought as he let himself into his house. If his initial consult with a potential new client was any indication, there was another nasty divorce battle brewing. And she was young. In her twenties. She and her husband hadn’t been married a full year!
They were using the standard “irreconcilable differences” argument. Did they even know what that meant in legal terms?
He’d finally gotten rid of Gloria Farnsworth. He’d transferred her case to one of his partners. The firm didn’t want to lose the revenue they could generate if she did take her husband to court and there was a protracted legal battle. But now he had “Farnsworth lite” to contend with.
As dissatisfying as his work continued to be, there was one bright spot for Daniel. It had to do with a little boy named Jason.
Daniel had made his decision to sponsor Jason the day he’d spoken to Laura Andrews, but he hadn’t had a chance to confirm it.
He sent Laura a quick email, letting her know his decision. By the time he’d fixed himself a Crown and Coke, set a fire in the fireplace in his home office and gone back to his laptop, she’d already emailed him a scanned copy of Jason’s handwritten wish list. He chuckled as he printed it.
Daniel perused the list while he sat by the fire and sipped his drink. Much like the lists provided by the other families, Jason’s consisted of basic items—winter clothes, a stuffed dog, a backpack for school, a sketch pad, a New England Patriots cap, a toy train and a book about circuses. Circuses—huh! Daniel remembered his own fascination with circuses when he was a kid, but they were more popular then. It was different now. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard of one in the area. He wondered how the kid had developed an interest in circuses and felt a sudden connection with this boy he’d never met.
Daniel was particularly struck by the last item printed neatly at the bottom of the page.
Jason wanted to be a “normal” boy. What would that mean to a kid like him? To be healthy? To have a father?
Daniel stared long and hard at the list and the little boy’s meticulously neat printing. Daniel might not be able to make Jason’s last wish come true, but he resolved to take care of all the others on the list—and more.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY was no better for Daniel. By six-thirty, he’d had enough. After another discussion with his new twenty-something client, he’d hung up the phone, packed his briefcase and left the office. He hadn’t planned to stop at Westfarms Mall. He just wanted to get home, have a light dinner and catch up on his paperwork. But as he was approaching the New Britain Avenue exit off I-84 W, he remembered that he needed refills for his electric shaver. He took the exit, regretting that decision as soon as he saw the packed parking lot. Who said there was anything wrong with the economy? Based on how full the lot was, half the population of Hartford must’ve decided to go shopping.
He hated crowds. That was one of the reasons he tried to avoid malls, especially at this time of year.
Well, he was here. If he could find a parking spot, he might as well brave the crowds. They certainly wouldn’t decrease as the days before Christmas flew by. He reluctantly squeezed his Mercedes coupe into a tight spot between two hulking SUVs. He entered the mall by one of the main doors leading into an atrium. Jewel-toned Christmas lights shone everywhere. Children’s laughter and the occasional wail mingled with the buzz of shoppers, all layered over traditional Christmas music. The smell of greasy fries and overcooked burgers wafted over to him from the nearby food court.
The atrium was filled with people, many of them kids. As he made his way in, he realized why. At the far end of the atrium, a very convincing Santa sat on his throne, surrounded by a half dozen elves. What person in his or her right mind would wear those green outfits with the green-and-black-striped tights and still be able to smile about it?
He couldn’t say what compelled him, but he stopped to watch.
Santa had a little boy who couldn’t have been more than five sitting on his lap. The boy was hunched in on himself and kept glancing with pleading eyes toward his mother at the side of the dais. Daniel felt for the kid. He looked painfully uncomfortable, but the mother seemed oblivious. She was preoccupied with capturing the perfect shot of him with Santa.
Daniel hadn’t noticed how tense he’d become watching the poor kid until he heard his own breath hiss out when the kid was finally allowed to slide off Santa’s lap. Was that how it had been for him when he was a boy?
Daniel was about to move on when he noticed the next kid in line to have an audience with Santa. She was all blonde curls and porcelain skin, and she wore a pretty, frilly dress. She reminded him of the child on the billboard visible from his office window. There was nothing shy about this kid. She clambered up on Santa’s lap, took his face between her tiny hands and placed a smacking kiss—he could have sworn he heard it where he stood—right on Santa’s big nose. As the child spoke intently, she used her pudgy little fingers to count, no doubt enumerating the things she wanted for Christmas. Daniel caught himself grinning. Self-consciously, he forced his lips back into a straight line.
He cast a glance at the girl’s mother. Unlike the previous woman, this one was filled with pride in her daughter. If the look on the mother’s face was any indication, the little girl would get everything she dreamed of for Christmas.
An image of a boy with a mop of blond hair, bright blue eyes and a smattering of freckles came to mind. Daniel thought of what Jason’s Christmas would’ve been like if he hadn’t agreed to sponsor him. He was glad it was a rhetorical question. He’d guarantee the kid wasn’t disappointed.
Forgetting all about his electric shaver refills, Daniel consulted the mall directory and headed to a toy store.
A couple of hours later, carrying numerous shopping bags, he entered a hobby store. He was hopeful he’d be able to tick the toy train off his list, too. Finding the appropriate section, he stacked his bags in an out-of-the-way corner so his hands would be free. He began to examine the various toys neatly arranged on the shelves.
He picked up and examined a locomotive, then a caboose. He was fascinated by the perfectly crafted miniature pieces, but there were so many of them. When he was a child, his parents had encouraged him to play with educational toys. He’d never had anything as frivolous—or as much fun—as a train set. Perhaps because of that, he wanted to make this a special gift for Jason, but he had no idea where to start.
“May I help you?” Daniel nearly jumped when he heard the pleasant, cheerful voice behind him. He carefully replaced the caboose on the shelf and turned to see a lovely dark-skinned young woman with short, springy hair and an eager-to-help expression on her face.
Generally not one to ask for assistance, at this moment he considered the young woman a godsend. “If you know about trains, yes, I beg you to help me!”
“It’s not my specialty, but I’d be happy to see what I can do. Are you interested in a particular piece or a set?”
The kid had asked for a toy train, but Daniel wanted to do more. “A set, I think.” He gave her a grateful smile. “Something special.”
After a brief discussion, the sales associate advised Daniel that the complexity of the set he was considering was beyond her level of expertise and said she’d fetch the owner of the store. With the owner’s assistance, Daniel decided on a deluxe electric train set. He knew it was over the top, but somehow his own childhood’s unfulfilled desire had become entangled with the kid’s wish, and Daniel couldn’t resist. He hoped Jason would be as excited about it as he was.
The challenge was that the set had to be custom manufactured, and the company was already backed up with orders. When Daniel shared Jason’s story with the owner of the shop, the man made a firm commitment that he’d do whatever needed to be done and personally guaranteed that Daniel would have the train set in time for Christmas.
Another hour later and still without the shaver refills, Daniel was loading shopping bags into the trunk of his car. Doing a quick scan of his doors, he was grateful for small blessings that his car appeared to be undamaged. Shopping malls, especially during the hustle and bustle of the holidays, tended to put him in a sour mood. Yet he found his disposition decidedly brighter than it had been when he’d left the office. He paused. Had he ever been this happy and excited about Christmas?
At home, he took all the parcels into a spare bedroom. Despite his growling stomach reminding him that he hadn’t had dinner, he unpacked the gifts. He read labels, examined assembly instructions and realized he felt like a kid himself.
He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to leave for Newport to visit his parents the week before Christmas. At the thought of spending a whole ten days with his family, he nearly shuddered—and immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his parents. There just wasn’t any warmth in the relationship. Not like the depiction on the billboard across from his office.
He’d visit his parents. He was too much of a dutiful son not to. He’d spend the weekend, but he’d make excuses and return home before Christmas. That way, he’d be in Hartford to finish shopping for Jason—not that he hadn’t already covered everything on the list—and he’d make the most of the holidays on his own.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHELSEA SAT ON a chair in Paige’s living room, one leg dangling over its arm. She was dressed in her favorite color—black leggings, thick black socks and an oversize black sweater. Jason was sprawled on the carpet, reading a book. Paige was curled up on the sofa, her legs tucked under her. In contrast to Chelsea’s dark, she was light. She wore faded jeans and a white long-sleeved T-shirt, and her blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a high ponytail.
Her friend studied her while munching on a carrot stick. “You look about eighteen, you know, with your perfect skin and that ponytail.”
Paige flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. “I think that’s a stretch, but thanks for the compliment.”
Bobby Helms’s “Jingle Bell Rock” started to play on the radio.
“Can you believe it’s only a couple of weeks until Christmas?” Chelsea exclaimed. “What are you guys doing this year?”
Paige glanced down at her son just as he turned his head and smiled up at her. “Jason and I discussed it. Although it would be great to be with Mom and Dad, we decided to spend Christmas here.”
Jason pushed up into a sitting position and crossed his legs. “Yeah. That way I won’t get as tired, ’cause I’ll need all my energy for my next treatment right after Christmas.”
Paige looked back at Chelsea. “The doctors timed his second treatment as far before the holidays as possible to make sure he’d feel the best he could for Christmas. But it means he’ll get the following one on December 27.”
Chelsea nodded in sympathy. “Bummer about not seeing your grandparents though, huh, Squirt?”
Jason lowered his eyes. “That’s okay. I wanted to, but Gramps doesn’t really remember me most of the time,” he murmured, then brightened. “Besides, we can see you and Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and Mr. Weatherly! You can all come over, and we can have hot chocolate and play games and stuff!”
Chelsea swung her leg to the floor and shifted in the chair. “Actually, I won’t be here for Christmas. I’m taking Joel to spend the holidays with my parents in North Carolina. Things are getting serious enough that it’s time they met him. We’ll be gone from just before Christmas until the second of January.” Chelsea shrugged apologetically. “Mrs. Bennett mentioned yesterday that they’d be spending Christmas with their daughter, her husband and the grandkids.”
Jason looked crestfallen.
“Sorry, Squirt,” Chelsea said. “At least Mr. Weatherly will be here.”
A tap at the door had Jason scrambling to answer it. As if on cue, Mr. Weatherly stood in the doorway, holding a small plant, its pot wrapped in shiny red paper.
“Well, hello, Mr. Weatherly.” Paige rose to greet her next-door neighbor. Harrison Weatherly was a very proper, middle-aged English gentleman. He was dressed, as always, as though he was off to have tea with the Queen. Today he wore gray tweed pants with an impeccable crease, a perfectly pressed white shirt, a black knit vest and a maroon bow tie. Paige knew he’d never been married and—because a young lady in his youth had broken his heart—he liked to boast that he was a confirmed bachelor. He didn’t have family in the United States. It struck Paige that he seemed lonely. Gardening was his passion, and he made the most of the small outdoor space that came with his ground-floor apartment. Paige had a soft spot in her heart for Mr. Weatherly.
“Hey, Mr. Weatherly,” Chelsea chimed in, waving at him.
“What’s that?” Jason dashed over, peering at the plant.
“This is for you, young master Jason, and for your mother. It’s a miniature spruce, all decked out for Christmas. Here you go.” He handed Jason the small tree, which was decorated with tiny ornaments and a miniature star on top.
“It’s cool!” Jason exclaimed. Catching his mother’s look, he swiftly added, “Thanks.”
Paige stood on her toes and gave Mr. Weatherly a kiss, bringing a bright red stain to his cheeks. “It’s beautiful and very considerate of you. Thank you.”
“I just thought it might be nice on your table. Perhaps as a centerpiece for Christmas dinner.”
“It’ll be perfect! Jason, why don’t you take it over now? Mr. Weatherly, please come in for a cup of tea.”
Mr. Weatherly followed Paige into the apartment and made himself comfortable on the sofa while Jason positioned the little tree in the middle of their dining table.
Paige paused at the doorway to the kitchen. “Speaking of Christmas dinner, we’d love to have you join us.”
Mr. Weatherly smiled broadly. “What a kind invitation, but this year I’m going to New York City. I’ve always wanted to experience New York at Christmas. Attend a Broadway play, see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. I finally decided to do it. I signed up for a New York Christmas excursion. I’m quite excited about it.”
“That’s wonderful,” Paige said, but she shot Chelsea a quick glance and felt sad as she prepared the tea. Christmas was about spending time with loved ones—family and friends. She wondered again if there was any way she and Jason could spend it with her parents, but travel would be hard for him, and her father wasn’t comfortable in places he didn’t recognize. So this Christmas it would be just her and Jason. All the more reason she needed to make it a special one for him.
* * *
DANIEL WAS IN his office on a settlement teleconference call with opposing counsel for one of his clients. They were doing the customary dance, even though they both knew where they’d ultimately end up. It promised to be a long dance. He leaned back in his chair and spun it around to watch the snow falling outside while he listened to the opposing counsel list the multitude of alleged grievances against his client.
Daniel’s gaze rested on the billboard with the Rockwell-like family. He focused on the flawless-looking parents, ostensibly so happy and in love. They seemed to exude tenderness for each other and their child.
It made him think of Jason’s mother. How would she feel, having recently learned of her son’s illness, alone and with obvious financial difficulties? Who would she lean on for support? Was there someone who loved her and would shower her with gifts on Christmas morning? He had no idea who she was, what she did for a living or what her dreams and desires were. But he could guess that her fears would all be concentrated on her son. He was equally certain that she’d be a good mother. The image of the boy in the picture Laura had sent him suggested a happy, well-loved kid.