Low Country Christmas

by Lee Tobin McClain

  You need him for cash, just like his name. Anything else will get you deep into trouble.

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING, Cash joined with his family talking and laughing as they waited for the giant, ancient oak tree to be lit, as it was every year in mid-November. It was the town’s traditional kickoff to the holiday season.

  Holly seemed to be having an okay time, but they’d never gotten the chance to talk because his nieces and nephew wouldn’t leave him alone. And he had to admit, he loved it. He’d shut down the whining of his CFO for the night. What good was owning the company if you couldn’t take a night off to hand out candy to a bunch of kids you loved?

  He knew he was too work-focused and impatient, could never be a good father, but he was determined to excel as an uncle. You didn’t have to be the biological parent to help and influence a kid. He was living proof of that.

  He glanced over at Holly now and noticed that she was shifting the baby to her other shoulder. He’d brought her here and he hated to see her looking so tired. Typical thoughtlessness on his part. “Let me hold her for a while,” he said. “You’ve got to be worn out.”

  She tilted her head to one side and studied him as if evaluating his worth as a baby-holder. “Okay,” she said, “if she’ll let you. She’s picky.”

  “As a lady should be.” Gently, he lifted the baby out of Holly’s arms.

  The weight of the child settled something in him, felt good. Little Penny studied him with round blue eyes and then yawned, and when he patted her back, she leaned her head against his shoulder and sucked her hand.

  Cash’s heart expanded about three sizes.

  Holly looked surprised. “She doesn’t go to everyone.”

  He refocused on the here and now. “I’m a baby whisperer,” he said casually, brushing off the often-paid compliment. “Listen, they’ll light the tree any minute now. After that, we can have our talk and I’ll take you back to your hotel. Where are you staying?”

  She named a small inland town, not exactly known for tourism, and a motel he’d never heard of.

  “How’d you land there?” Cash mostly met women who wanted luxury. Holly was different. Or maybe desperate.

  “Cheaper,” she said. “I don’t know how long we’ll need to stay.”

  Aha, desperate. But he didn’t have time to think about it because the tree lit up in a blaze of white lights. Gasps and oohs and aahs went through the crowd, and then as more and more lights came on, kids started shouting.

  “So pretty,” Holly said, leaning closer. “Look, Penny—pretty!”

  The baby stared and waved chubby arms. And for just a moment, he felt like he and this woman and this baby were a little family, doing a holiday tradition together, and his chest tightened with crazy longing. It must be the Christmas season that was making him soft and emotional.

  He had to toughen up. The crowd was dispersing, all the little ones needing home and bed, and he handed the baby back to Holly and hugged everyone goodbye.

  “Don’t stay away so long next time,” Yasmin, Liam’s wife, said sternly.

  Anna, Sean’s wife, nodded. “The girls miss you when you’re gone,” she said.

  They made it sound like he lived here, but he didn’t. He lived in Atlanta. It was just that, with all the weddings and babies and family events in the past two years, he’d spent more and more time here.

  Finally, he broke away and ushered Holly toward the car, hitching her diaper bag over his shoulder to lighten her burden a little. Funny how she’d seemed to become part of the group in just this one evening. He was a little reluctant to spoil the sweet, holiday family feeling with a conversation about whatever she wanted from him.

  But that was ridiculous; best to get things out into the open right away. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked. “Sorry it took so long, took up your evening.”

  “It’s okay,” she said as she shifted the baby from one arm to the other. “I’m glad to find out a little more about you and your family.”

  A strange uneasiness gripped him. “Why’s that?” he asked.

  She nodded down at Penny. “Because she’s part of the family, too,” she said. “She’s your daughter.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  HOLLY EXPECTED THAT her announcement would evoke surprise, even shock. What she didn’t expect was laughter.

  Cash actually did a full eye roll as he leaned back against his car and let out an unamused chuckle. “So I’m her father.”

  Affronted, Holly stepped back from the ridiculously expensive car and waited for his sarcastic smile to fade. Which it did, fairly quickly, when he saw she wasn’t joining in.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “Holly, that’s the oldest game in the book, and women have targeted me with it a number of times. Good try, though, and it’s innovative to claim I fathered your baby when we never met before. Now, come on, let’s get you back to your motel.”

  “She’s Tiff’s baby, not mine.”

  He tilted his head to one side as if he were thinking, then shook his head. “Nope. Not possible.”

  He was completely dismissing her. He was back to being that cold, heartless businessman he’d appeared to be when she’d first seen him at his fancy condo. All of a sudden, Holly felt exhausted. Her arms ached from holding the baby for what seemed like hours. She hadn’t slept well last night, wondering whether the motel she’d chosen was safe, whether the bedbug epidemic she’d heard about on TV was real and, most of all, thinking about how to present the news about the baby to Cash.

  As it turned out, that was the least of her worries, because he didn’t believe her. Not even a little. And she didn’t have the strength to muster up all the arguments tonight. “You know what,” she said, “I’ll just call another Uber. I assume you won’t submit to a paternity test, so I’ll start the court proceedings tomorrow.” That would be the more expensive and time-consuming route, according to her online research, but it was worth it. Penny deserved to know her father, and she deserved a better life than Holly could provide on her own.

  “You don’t look so good.” Cash seemed to ignore her words, but his face grew concerned as he studied her. “When was the last time you ate?”

  She pressed a hand to her stomach. Now that she thought about it, she was hungry. “I ate two hours ago,” she said. “Right here.”

  “You picked at a piece of pie. When before that?”

  She thought back. “A granola bar this morning,” she admitted.

  “Come on.” He gestured her toward the door of the café. “Half an hour isn’t going to make a difference, time- and rest-wise, for you or the baby. Let’s get you an actual meal.”

  She was too tired to argue and, anyway, her stomach growled at the notion of food. So she shrugged and followed him into the café, where they sat in a booth this time. Penny woke up and got social, so they put her in a high chair and Holly wiped the tray with a sanitary wipe and then dumped Cheerios onto the tray.

  The same middle-aged waitress they’d had before came over and reached out to squeeze Cash’s shoulder. That made him uncomfortable, even Holly could see it. Weird.

  “Umm... Rita,” Cash said awkwardly. “Did you meet Holly before? Anyway, she needs something quick and nutritious.”

  “We’ve got plenty of choices, though we’re only open another forty-five minutes.” Rita smiled at her. “What do you like, hon? Bean soup? Eggs and grits?”

  Holly was grateful not to have to look at a menu. “Eggs sound good,” she said. “Scrambled. Thanks.” As Rita walked away, she turned to Cash. “I’d like to go freshen up, wash my hands.”

  “Do it,” Cash said. “I’ll take care of Penny here. We’re bonding. Since we’re, you know, father and daughter.”

  She didn’t bother to get mad; she just looked at him and shook her head. Clearly
this was a joke to Cash, and if she had the energy she’d strangle him, but she didn’t.

  She went into the bathroom, washed her face and considered applying some makeup, but decided against it. Who was she trying to impress?

  She studied her pale, drawn face in the mirror. Her life had changed insanely in the past month, and the changes hadn’t stopped coming. A part of her longed for the carefree days in Manhattan as a mobile dog sitter, living out of a small suitcase in the finest of apartments, spending her days with the canines who were so much more understanding than people. She’d had the ideal life for someone who wanted zero attachments.

  Attachments—the wrong ones—had caused her mother to neglect her children and ruin her own health. Holly had no interest in repeating her mother’s mistakes.

  Tiff had laughed at her independent lifestyle, told her she was avoiding reality. But Tiff hadn’t been any better; in fact, she’d been much, much worse. Zero attachments was better than destructive ones.

  And yes, she was exhausted, but as she left the restroom and caught sight of her niece giggling up at Cash, Holly straightened her back and put a smile on her face. She had the privilege and responsibility of raising her niece, and it gave her life a purpose she’d never had before.

  By the time Holly got back to the table, Rita had gone to the pass-through window and back and was bringing a plate of hot food that smelled amazing. “Thank you,” Holly said, and dug in. She only looked up after she’d eaten half the plateful, at which point she realized that Cash and Rita were watching her with...what? Amazement? Amusement?

  Heat climbed into her face. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how long it had been since I’d eaten, and this is fantastic food. I haven’t had grits in ages.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else, and meanwhile, you listen to what he has to suggest,” the waitress said, and went back to wait on others.

  “Look,” Cash said, “Rita gets off in a few minutes, and she said you can stay with her.”

  “What?” Holly stared at him. “You got her involved?”

  He nodded. “Sorry,” he said, “but Safe Haven is sort of an involved community. And...well, she’s my mother.”

  That was strange. “I thought I heard you call her ‘Rita.’” And a waitress mom doesn’t exactly match a son with a Tesla.

  Cash’s face reddened. “It’s complicated,” he said. “But the point is, she’s sympathetic when she sees a mother and child in need. Let’s just say she’s been a woman in a tough spot herself.”

  “Okay, that explains her, sort of.” She studied him narrowly. “But what about you? If you don’t believe me about the paternity stuff, why are you still being nice?”

  He shrugged. “You’re in a spot,” he said. “Look, the baby isn’t mine, but maybe Tiff told you she was and sent you here to meet me. That’s not your fault. I’m impressed you’re helping out with your sister’s child.”

  Holly blew out a breath, wondering whether to believe him. Either way, she and Penny needed nourishment, so she hunkered down and finished her meal, putting bits of toast and egg on Penny’s tray and helping the baby guide the food to her mouth.

  Cash was going on about how Rita’s place was right down the street and how she had a guest room and loved kids. Then Rita came back and urged her to accept the help, that she could sort out everything tomorrow. “Doesn’t a real bed sound nice?” she asked. “I even called my neighbor and asked her to put her Pack ’n’ Play outside my door, so the baby will have a crib.”

  This had the feeling of being inevitable, and she could see in Cash’s face that he felt virtuous for helping the poor stranger. And she didn’t feel too bad about it, because Penny was related to both of them.

  Unlike him, she knew it and was certain of it. Tiff had left a letter with her will that spelled it out and urged Holly to go to Cash for help. She wouldn’t have lied. Not about something as important as a child.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Rita O’Dwyer poured coffee for Holly, who’d been her reluctant overnight guest, and her best friend, Norma, who’d stopped over to visit. She liked living by herself, but it had been fun to get up this morning, fix breakfast and listen to the cooing of a baby.

  Plus, Norma had brought fresh cinnamon rolls, which made any day feel like a celebration.

  Holly sat at the kitchen table spooning banana pieces into baby Penny’s mouth. She wore Rita’s old shorts and T-shirt and looked a little more rested than she’d seemed last night. She still wasn’t exactly forthcoming about what her story was, but it wasn’t any of Rita’s business.

  There was a knock at the door, and Rita jumped up to get it. Cash. “Come on in,” she said, absurdly happy. He was her son, and even though she didn’t remember raising him, she felt a mother’s love in her heart. “Try a cinnamon roll,” she suggested.

  “Jean Carol’s?” he asked automatically. Jean Carol’s cinnamon rolls were legendary in this town.

  “Of course! Norma brought them.”

  “They’re heavenly,” Holly added, taking a bite and closing her eyes.

  “Thanks, Norma,” Cash said, but he didn’t look at Rita’s friend. Instead, he watched Holly lick a crumb off her lip, a hungry expression on his face.

  He’s got it bad, Norma mouthed to Rita.

  Rita studied her son through narrowed eyes. What was the connection between Cash and this pretty young stranger?

  “You about ready to go?” Cash asked Holly. They were going to go pick up Holly’s belongings at the motel where she’d been staying, because Cash, in his typical business-executive way, had talked the management of Rita’s apartment complex into renting an empty apartment to Holly short-term.

  “Not quite. I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you’d be quite so punctual.”

  “Let me hold the baby while you wash up and get your things together,” Rita said. She loved babies, probably because she knew she’d had her own, but she didn’t remember any of it.

  “I’ll be quick. I just have a few things to pack up and we’ll be ready. Out of your hair,” she added to Rita.

  “No rush,” Rita said. “You’re a welcome guest.”

  Holly looked confused, as if she’d never heard those words before. Poor kid.

  Once she was gone, and the sound of water running indicated she was out of earshot, Rita turned to Cash. “What’s the story with Holly and baby Penny?”

  Cash helped himself to another cinnamon roll. “She’s just another pretty girl looking for a handout.”

  “Harsh,” Norma said, and Rita flinched inside. Was Cash really as cold as he acted sometimes?

  Cash shrugged. “I know her kind and I know how to deal with her.”

  “She doesn’t seem to have a lot of experience with babies,” Rita volunteered. “Says this is her sister’s, and that she’s only been taking care of her for about a month.”

  “A month?” Cash lifted an eyebrow. “I knew Tiff was a free spirit, but I didn’t think she’d dump her kid on her sister for that long.”

  “What’s your connection with all of them?” Norma asked. “Is there a paternity suit coming your way?”

  “Norma!” Rita exclaimed.

  But Cash just shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I know better than to make a baby. I’m always careful. But Tiff knew I had money. I guess she didn’t have the guts to come to me herself, so she sent her sister.” He watched Penny gum the pieces of banana Rita was handing her. “Is that okay for her?”

  “Of course,” Rita said. “Banana is one of the first things babies can eat.”

  “How do you know?”

  Rita looked at him. “What?”

  “Sorry. What I mean is, how do you remember what babies should eat? From—from us?”

  Regret clutched at her. “No, Cash, I’m sorry. I know it from being around other women’s b
abies and helping with them.”

  “I figured.” He looked away.

  Of all her three sons, he was the one who was taking longest to come around. Sean, her oldest, had been thrilled to learn she was his mother and had connected with her right away. Liam, her youngest, had been outright angry and resentful about the fact that she’d abandoned them in Safe Haven as young teenagers, however unintentionally. That open anger had been easier to deal with because it had forced them to talk things out, explain their sides of the argument, apologize and cry and hug.

  Cash was another kind of person. He’d been polite to her from the beginning. Polite and distant. Which kind of seemed to be his modus operandi, and she worried about her middle son. When would he find love and happiness if he kept to himself, kept his distance from everyone?

  “I sure do wish I remembered what you boys were like as kids,” she said.

  “No big deal.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter and scooted his chair forward. “Can I hold her?”

  “Sure. Let me wipe her off.” Rita rinsed a cloth and cleaned the baby’s banana-goo-covered face and hands, and then Cash swung her up into his arms.

  “You look good with a baby,” Rita said, leaning back against the kitchen counter and smiling at him. “Like a natural. Ever think about settling down and becoming a dad, like your brothers?”

  “Nope,” he said, catching Penny’s hand to keep her from pulling at the chain he wore around his neck.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m my father’s son, but I don’t want to make his mistakes.”

  Rita couldn’t help shuddering. Cash’s father had beaten her nearly to death, giving her the brain injury that had caused her amnesia. But for Cash to think he’d possibly do the same...no. “Cash, you can’t let yourself be tied to the past like that. You’re nothing like him.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and held her gaze.

  “You want to know how I know, since I don’t remember Orin. It’s because of what you and your brothers have told me. And because you’re a good man.”