CASH PULLED HIS brother’s truck into the gravel area in front of Ma Dixie’s place and turned to look at Holly. “You okay?”
She’d been quiet for the twenty-minute drive out here. Not quiet like she was mad at him, but thoughtful. “I’m fine,” she said. “Well, a little uncomfortable leaving Penny with Norma, but I know in my head she’ll be fine.”
“You haven’t left her much.” It was a statement more than a question.
“Almost never.” She smiled over at him. “Keeping her with me while I walk dogs isn’t just an economy measure. I want her with me. It’s good for both of us.”
“True.” His respect for her kept growing. She hadn’t chosen to have a child, but she’d embraced mothering Penny as if the child was her own. “Do you want to call Norma, check on her?”
She shook her head, laughing a little. “I want to, but I’m not going to. I have to get over my new-mommy nerves.”
“I understand them.” He got out and came around to open her door. “Although I’m sure Norma will smother her with attention and watch her like a hawk.” He held up a hand to help her down.
She glanced into his eyes for a moment and then took his hand. Her own was small, but not soft.
He had the strangest urge not to let it go.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, his brothers pulled up in Sean’s truck, apparently here for a visit. “Good,” Cash said, turning away from Holly with reluctance. “Since you’re here, you can help me load up the truck.”
“Bad timing,” Liam said to Sean.
“Have you talked to Pudge?” Sean asked. They were all worried about him.
The man himself came around the side of the house at that moment, breathing hard. “No,” he said, puffing, “he hasn’t. But I understand he’s going to take some building supplies off my hands.” He beckoned them over to a stack of boards beside the house and picked up a couple of them.
Ma Dixie appeared on the porch. “Pudge! You’re not supposed to—” She glanced toward the three brothers. “Don’t let him do any heavy lifting. Doctor’s orders.”
Pudge waved a hand and looked away from all of them. He was used to doing for himself, and activity restrictions had to be hard on him.
But Cash could read the worry on Ma’s lined face. “I’ll pull up a chair and you can supervise,” he said to Pudge, and dragged a double wooden bench into a sunny spot.
“I ain’t a cripple.” But the large man did sit down.
“Thank you,” Ma said, and beckoned to Holly. “Come on inside where it’s warm. There’s plenty of muscle out here.”
“Sounds good,” she said, and followed Ma into the house without a backward look at Cash.
With his brothers’ help, he made quick work of loading up the truck, and then they all gathered around to talk with Pudge. The older man wore his trademark overalls and a thick wool shirt, and he looked a lot better than he had when Cash had last seen him, at the car dealership. Cash knelt so he wasn’t towering over the older man.
“Any more medical procedures?” Sean asked, a little too abruptly. Ma had been his foster parent, and Pudge had been in the picture for most of that time; he was something of a father figure to Sean. To all of them, really, and it didn’t feel great to have him ailing.
“Nothing much.” Pudge got very busy looking for something in his overall pocket, avoiding their eyes.
The brothers exchanged glances.
“Tell us what’s going on with you,” Liam said finally. “We want to know. And you know if you don’t tell us, our wives will get the truth out of Ma.”
Pudge rolled his eyes. “I can imagine. Women.” He sighed. “It’s nothing surprising. Complications from my diabetes. Some circulation troubles in my legs, and they’re taking a closer look at my heart.”
His words made Cash’s insides twist. He looked out over the marshland, inhaling its rich, fertile fragrance, listening to the chorus of frogs and birds to calm himself down. “You know we’ll help out with anything that needs done around here, right? You don’t have to kill yourself keeping the place up.”
Pudge lifted an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’re sticking around?”
The question caught him off guard, and he let it hang in the air without answering. When he saw his brothers’ curious expressions, he got self-conscious. “I’m staying until Christmas,” he said. “After that, I need to go back to Atlanta to keep things together there.”
“Is Holly joining you?”
“No.” He looked at Liam, who’d asked the question. “Why would she?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because she’s got custody of your child?”
Cash spread his hands. “Look, I’m doing what I can. Trying to talk her into taking more child support so she can stay home with the baby more. But nobody thinks I should be a hands-on parent.”
Sean and Liam and Pudge all looked at each other.
“I do,” Sean said.
“I do,” Liam said.
“Me, too,” Pudge added.
Cash blew out a breath and looked away from the three of them. They should know why he couldn’t do it; they knew their father’s blood ran in his veins, that he carried the strongest resemblance to Orin, both physically and emotionally. He wasn’t going to spell it out to them. “I’m going inside to check on Holly,” he said.
“Hang on a minute,” Sean said. “What’s going on with you and Holly, anyway?”
He turned back. “What do you mean?”
“She’s real pretty,” Liam offered. “Seems like a good person. Any interest in...?” He trailed off and raised an eyebrow.
“He’d be crazy not to be interested,” Sean said. “Good women don’t fall into his line of vision every day.”
“Clue for me was, he’s trying to talk her into accepting more money. Most women, they’re trying to get more money out of a man.” Pudge leaned back on the bench. “Grab me one of those cigars, would you?”
“You shouldn’t, should you?” But Liam was already holding it out.
“Long as he doesn’t inhale, it’s fine.” Sean had been trained as a medic in the Middle East and was their go-to for all things medical.
They were settling in for a longer chat, and Cash didn’t want to be the subject of it. Or if he was, he didn’t want to know about it. He left them to their smoking and went into the cabin.
The place was half-decorated for Christmas, with boxes of lights and ornaments spread around the living-room floor. Cash frowned. He’d always seen the place fully decorated, often by Thanksgiving or soon after. But Christmas wasn’t too far away, and Ma hadn’t finished decorating. Strange. Even a little worrisome.
From a corner of the room, he heard laughter. There was a smallish live Christmas tree, and Holly was scooting out from under it. “You’re sure it’s straight? I felt like it was tipping over.”
“It’s as straight as it needs to be,” Ma said. “Oh, hey, son, you’re just in time to help us.”
Ma always called him “son,” but today it struck him forcefully: Rita never did. Could be she just had a different habit of speech, having spent so much time in the north. Or it could be she didn’t feel like he was her son.
Or maybe he’d been so standoffish that she was afraid to. He certainly didn’t call her “Mom.”
As he pulled decorations out of boxes and handed them to the women to put on the tree and mantel, he thought about Rita and the dog. She’d been upset that she didn’t remember their dog from their growing-up years, but she’d appeared sincerely heartbroken that she didn’t remember Cash.
His heart softened, just a little, toward her. It must be pretty rough to have no idea about your own kids.
You knew nothing about Penny until she was a year old.
That realization hit him hard, but he argued back against it. He hadn’t even known of her exis
tence until a few weeks ago.
Rita didn’t know about you, either.
It was true. He tended to blame Rita, thinking that she should have remembered him, but if amnesia truly erased your memory, then what could you do about it? It was the same as him not knowing about Penny: it wasn’t his fault.
Even though he blamed himself.
Maybe if he stopped blaming Rita, he could stop blaming himself.
Holly was hanging ornaments, stepping back after each one to gauge its effect on the overall tree. Ma’s approach with the garland was more of a random toss, which she quickly finished. Then she started unwrapping figures from a Nativity scene, which she did much more reverently. Carefully, she set them on the mantel.
Cash remembered coming out to Ma Dixie’s place at Christmastime growing up. The contrast with his own foster family’s home had been extreme. There, six themed Christmas trees were spread throughout the house, decorated perfectly by the commercial operation that brought them out each year and took them away after the holidays. That same company had wrapped garlands around the staircase and strung lights outside the house.
It had all been grand. He remembered being shocked and impressed his first year with the family, because it had been so different from the humble holidays back in Alabama. But he hadn’t been allowed to invite his brothers over; too much noise and mess, his foster mother had always said. If he wanted to see them, he had to find a ride out to Ma Dixie’s, which he had done frequently.
Here, Christmas really felt like Christmas.
He opened another box of ornaments, pulled out an angel made of hard plastic and handed it to Holly to place on the tree.
“Is this your tree topper, Ma?” Holly asked, holding it up.
“Yes, it is. I usually have Pudge put it up, but...could you do it, Cash, honey?”
He did, easily reaching the top of the small tree. “Is Pudge okay?” he asked Ma. “Is that why the place isn’t decorated yet, that he’s too sick to help?”
Ma arranged the last figures in the Nativity scene and sank down onto the couch. “That’s part of it. Mostly, it’s me feeling blue. I’m not used to Christmas with no kids around.”
Holly tilted her head to one side. “Did you have a lot of kids?”
“Dozens,” Ma said with a wide smile. “That’s the beauty of being a foster parent.”
“Oh,” Holly said as she sank down onto an ottoman beside Ma. “Do you...not foster anymore?”
Ma sighed. “I really can’t with Pudge having all these doctor appointments. I guess maybe we’re getting too old for it.” She looked wistfully at the tree. “I just, you know, always enjoyed having the little ones around.”
Holly looked thoughtful. “Is that why you wanted to take care of Penny? Not to help me out, but to have a little one around?”
“That’s part of it,” Ma said, “but don’t you worry about it. I understand being picky where your child is concerned.”
“It’s not pickiness,” Holly said. “If I were being picky, who better than an experienced foster parent like you?” She reached out and rubbed Ma’s arm back and forth, two or three times, an affectionate gesture that made Ma smile.
Cash came over and sat at Holly’s side, leaning against the ottoman. His heart, like that of the Grinch in the movie playing muted on the television, seemed to be expanding.
He’d taken plenty of women to high-end Christmas parties and fancy restaurants. But sitting here in Ma Dixie’s house, talking with her about holidays and kids and family problems, decorating the tree with her, felt different. Like coming home.
Like coming home, with Holly beside him.
He put that feeling together with the questions his brother and Pudge had been asking. He was getting the horrifying notion that he might be falling in love with Holly. But he wasn’t the falling-in-love type, nor the settling-down type. And Holly wasn’t the type for a short, superficial fling.
So what exactly was he going to do with all these feelings?
* * *
RITA WAS ANNOYED, tremendously so, way more than the occasion warranted. And a lot of it had to do with the handsome, infuriating man who’d just driven her and Taffy out to Pudge LeFrost’s place.
It was a cool day, overcast and in the fifties. Jimmy wore a heavy winter coat; Rita wore a sweater. And she knew he was about to make another comment about it.
“You sure you’ll be warm enough?” he said right on cue, turning off the truck.
Taffy leaped out of her arms and flung herself on Jimmy, trying to lick his face. Apparently, she’d figured out the person who liked her the least and was determined to grovel until she changed his mind.
Rita wasn’t groveling. “I told you this wasn’t necessary,” she said as Jimmy attempted to block the excited dog with his arms and turn his face away. “I could just as well have trained her myself, at home. You wouldn’t have even had to be involved.”
“I want to be involved. I just wish you’d involved me before you made the decision to get a dog.”
Rita blew out a breath, reeled the dog back toward her and opened the truck door to climb out.
A truck loaded with building supplies was parked on the other side of the driveway. Great. She was pretty sure it meant her least enthusiastic son, Cash, was here. They’d seen Liam and Sean driving away just as they’d turned onto the road that led out here; she hadn’t figured on Cash still being here as a visitor.
The moment she climbed out, sure enough, there was her middle son, looking out the door. He walked over, giving her a slight wave.
He shook Jimmy’s hand in a way that was distinctly warmer. Of course.
Ma Dixie came out onto the porch, and her broad face broke into a smile. “More of my favorite people,” she said. “And who’s that precious creature? I didn’t know you had a new pup.”
That was Ma; she saw the best in everyone, even Taffy, who was straining at her leash and barking frantically, practically ripping Rita’s arm from the socket. “This is Taffy,” she said, kneeling down to gently restrain the dog. “Hey, okay, it’s okay, settle,” she crooned. It was gratifying when Taffy at least stopped barking long enough to lick her face a couple of times.
“Bring her inside,” Ma said, and when Rita protested that the dog wasn’t perfectly house-trained, she waved a dismissive hand. “Honey, there’s been more dogs and boys in this house than you have fingers and toes. If it’s not been destroyed yet, it’ll stand for a little dog like that.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Rita couldn’t help flashing a glance at Jimmy. If only he could be as welcoming as Ma was.
But, of course, Ma was a saint among women, and most people—Rita included—couldn’t live up to her sense of hospitality and generosity.
She urged Taffy up the steps, Jimmy and Cash following behind, talking about carpentry or some such manly thing. When she reached the porch, she realized that Holly was there, too. “Hey, honey,” she said, reaching out and giving her and Ma both a quick hug.
Holly looked mildly surprised, which made Rita remember that she was from the north and a little shy. She’d get used to Southern friendliness soon, just as Rita herself had.
“Did you see Penny before you left?” Holly’s voice was anxious. “It was so nice of Norma to come over and babysit. I hope Penny’s being good for her.”
“There’s nothing she could do that Norma couldn’t handle,” Rita said. “They’re having a blast together. I never heard Norma sing so many silly songs, and her voice is terrible. But Penny just laughs and laughs.”
“Oh, good.”
“I told you she’d be fine.” Cash came up behind Holly and patted her on the back. His hand lingered a little longer than it needed to.
Interesting.
The other thing that was interesting was that Rita was feeling fully connected to this community, so much so that she felt l
ike she wanted to welcome Holly to it and show her the ropes. It wasn’t that long ago that Rita had come here as a stranger, looking for information about her past.
Well, she’d found it, or some of it. She just wished she could remember the background of the people she’d found, her own sons. Wished she could remember birthing them, and nursing them, and loving them as kids.
She glanced around the small living room, decorated for Christmas, with boxes indicating that the decorating had maybe just happened. “Are Rocky and his mom still visiting?” The teenager and his troubled mother had lived with Ma and Pudge briefly, recovering from some issues connected to Rocky’s abusive stepfather. They’d been back to visit over Thanksgiving, and Rita had enjoyed seeing them at the crab boil.
“They’re back in Colorado,” Ma said. “Was hoping they’d come visit again for Christmas, but money’s tight. They promised they’d get back here in the spring.”
Cash lifted an eyebrow. “Another success of the Ma-and-Pudge project,” he said wryly.
Ma smiled. “I hope so. I’m in the rehab business, helping people who have problems. Wouldn’t mind getting another family or a few babies in here to stay, but...” She spread her hands and glanced toward the back of the house. “Now isn’t the time.”
Cash put an arm around the older woman. “You just had a visit from three of your rehab projects—me, Liam and Sean.”
Shame heated Rita’s face. The reason the boys had needed rehabilitation was her own neglect and bad choices.
Just now, for whatever reason, the thought of the past and those choices brought horror and dread to her heart. Sometimes her amnesia worked that way: it seemed to lift just enough to let in a few emotions, and usually they weren’t good ones. She knelt and stroked Taffy, the wiggly warm body a comfort.
“Listen,” Ma said, and Rita realized she was watching her, reading her thoughts, “it’s nothing to feel bad about, that your boys had to go into foster care. Everyone has problems from time to time.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said, “like Taffy.” He touched the dog with his foot.
Taffy cringed.
Low Country Christmas Page 14