One Bright Christmas

by Katherine Spencer

  Got sick? Lauren’s brain flipped a switch. She had assumed Cole was divorced. The news that he was a widower was a game changer. No wonder he’d looked disturbed by the idea of reading Phoebe Charlotte’s Web. Everyone knew that Charlotte, the spider, died at the end. Lauren felt awful now for pushing it on him; but how could she have guessed?

  “You lost your wife to an illness? I’m so sorry.”

  He took a breath and nodded. “Cancer. Very fast moving, too. A blessing, in a strange way, and that made it even harder.”

  She knew that she couldn’t even begin to imagine and didn’t know what to say.

  “Phoebe was only four when it started. Amy was gone about six months after the diagnosis. Poor Phoebe didn’t understand what was happening. You can understand why she’s so horrified at the idea of anyone she loves going to a hospital.”

  Lauren suddenly understood that reaction and so many other things about Phoebe—and Cole—she had misread. “Wilbur getting sick makes her remember all that,” she said. “It must be awful for her.”

  “I’m sure it does. Though she hasn’t mentioned her mother. Not so far. I blame myself. When I told your aunt that I would continue keeping the animals for her, I never realized it might create this sort of problem.”

  “Of course you didn’t. Not too many people would. There’s always the risk of being hurt once you form an attachment to anything, a pet or a person.” Once you fall in love, she could have added. “But how can you protect Phoebe from that forever? Would you even want to?”

  She stopped herself, realizing that, once again, her mouth had run ahead of her filter and she had probably said too much. Way too much to a man who must still be grieving and hardly needed her advice on how to raise his daughter.

  But he didn’t look annoyed with her. “I’ve thought of it that way, too. And she’s so full of love. Just like Amy. Who could stop her? But now that it’s actually happening, I feel differently. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken this little piglet into the house and treated him like a pet. What if he doesn’t make it? What am I going to tell her tomorrow?”

  “I have no idea,” she answered truthfully. “We just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.” She looked down at the baby pig. “We have to save you, Wilbur. For Phoebe. I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure you’re out of the woods.”

  Cole offered a small smile. “Since you feel that way about it, guess I’ll make more coffee.”

  As he put on a fresh pot, Lauren asked, “Where were you living before you came to Cape Light?”

  “In Boston. I’m a financial analyst.” He named one of the top Boston finance firms. Lauren was impressed. “My wife was an illustrator. She was able to work from home when Phoebe came, which she loved. And it was easy for me, too. Too easy,” he added.

  “Why do you say that? Or is that question too personal? I have a bad habit of that. Ask first, think later.”

  He turned and smiled at her over his shoulder. “Yeah, I noticed. Now that you mention it.”

  Lauren felt herself blush. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I know you’re a lawyer, and a sharp one,” he added. “I expect a lot of questions.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  He shook his head. “Are you always so . . . blunt?”

  She took a moment to answer, wondering if the truth would hurt her chances with him. But really, she had no choice but to be honest. “Uh . . . yeah. I am. Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all. I find it amazingly refreshing.” He brought over two mugs of coffee and set one at her place. “To answer your question, counselor, it was too easy for me with Amy at home all the time because I was a workaholic. After she got sick, I saw how much I had missed out on and how little I’d been around for her, or for Phoebe. I can never get that time back. It’s something I’ll always regret.”

  She could see his sadness and her heart went out to him.

  “We miss her a lot,” he admitted. “Sometimes, Phoebe is so much like her mother, it’s eerie.”

  “She’s a wonderful little girl. Your wife must have been an amazing woman.”

  “She was. But not so you’d notice right off. She was quiet and kind. A very thoughtful and sensitive person. She was a wonderful artist. She painted the walls of Phoebe’s room with all sorts of animals and flowers. That was one thing we both hated about leaving the house in Belmont. Phoebe had to leave those murals behind. But I took a lot of photos for her. I even considered hiring someone to reproduce the paintings. But that wouldn’t be the same, right?”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” she agreed.

  Amy McGuire did sound amazing. And the complete opposite of me in temperament and personality, Lauren reflected.

  “You made a big change, coming out here,” she observed in a mild tone, careful not to ask any more invasive questions.

  You don’t need to grill the poor man like he’s on the witness stand, for goodness’ sake.

  “I had to do something. I thought it might help Phoebe to come to a new place, where everything didn’t carry a reminder of her mother. I know David Sawyer through some mutual friends. I heard that his father was selling this property. I didn’t really know much about the town or the area, except that it’s so quiet and pretty around here. But it seemed a good place to start over, and I thought it was worth a try.”

  Lauren thought of her own life and how she was trying to start over, too. It was encouraging to hear that Cole had taken a chance and it had turned out to be the right choice.

  “Seems like you were right,” she said.

  “Seems so. And I’m grateful. Phoebe was very withdrawn after we lost Amy. She hardly spoke or related to anyone. Not even me. She’s gotten a lot better since we came here. We may not stay forever. But I can see it was the right choice for now.”

  His expression brightened as he spoke of his daughter’s progress. Lauren now understood Jen Bennet’s role in their lives, too, though she hoped it wasn’t as more than a therapist for Phoebe.

  “So you work remotely?” she asked.

  “Yes, I started my own firm, McGuire Financial Consulting. I make my own schedule, centered around Phoebe. I advise charities and not-for-profit organizations on how to handle their assets and investments. I decided to use my superpowers for good,” he added with a grin. “How about you, Lauren? You stick out like a shotgun in a flyswatter shop at Wagner and Associates. If you don’t mind me saying.”

  Lauren felt a jolt at his blunt analogy, then had to laugh. “I don’t mind. Especially after all my nosy questions. I’m just helping out there for a few weeks. Joe’s an old friend from high school. I came home for a visit between gigs, you might say.”

  “I see.” He met her gaze, and she knew he could see a lot more than she’d just reported.

  “I really live in New York. I mean, I was living there and intend to return in January. I guess you could say I had a setback in my career plans,” she added. “I worked my tail off at my former law firm but was told at my last review that I was no longer on track to make partner. I had to leave. So that means I have to try somewhere else. Those are the rules of the game.”

  “Rough rules, tough game,” he offered with a note of sympathy. “I will say, if you came up short, I’d hate to meet the attorneys who do make it. I’d be shivering in my boots.”

  She met his gaze and smiled. “That’s a nice compliment, thanks.” She sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. He’d told her all about his life. She decided to tell him the whole story of her New York adventure.

  “There was another reason I needed a break. My relationship crashed and burned. I’d been with a guy for almost two years, and we decided it just wasn’t, you know . . . right.” She paused. This part was harder to talk about. “He decided,” she added.

  “More fool him.”

  It was nice of Cole to say that. But she had
been nursing his daughter’s sick piglet all day. He was bound to be nice to her because of that, she reminded herself.

  “I didn’t see it that way at the time. But maybe it was a lucky escape? My sisters—and my mom—just admitted that they never liked him.”

  “Really? What did you say?”

  “I told them they’d better speak up promptly about the next guy. I’m getting too old to waste any more time.”

  Cole laughed again. “Lauren, as I said before, you’re very refreshing. And you’re not old. Not at all.”

  “Thanks. My mother says to just go with the flow. I mean, what a retro slogan, right? What does that even mean?”

  Before he could answer, her phone alarm pinged, and they both looked at Wilbur. “Time for his temperature. Fingers crossed.”

  He gave her a weary smile and showed her his crossed fingers. It was odd how she felt so in sync with him tonight when just days ago they were sniping at each other, bitter adversaries. She liked this a lot better. And she hoped he did, too.

  The hours passed as they tended to Wilbur, giving him medicine and more baths, checking his temperature. They had to call the vet two more times during the night, fearing the worst when his fever kept shooting up. At one point, the poor little thing even shivered uncontrollably. Lauren feared the end was coming and fought back tears.

  Cole brought in pillows and quilts, and they took turns watching over him and dozing off on the kitchen floor.

  * * *

  * * *

  Lauren felt a cramp in her neck and opened her eyes slowly. A beam of sunlight squeezing through a gap in the curtains made her squint. She realized she had fallen into a deep sleep. Much deeper than she had intended. She checked her phone and saw she had slept right through the five o’clock alarm.

  Cole had missed it, too. He was slumped over the kitchen table, his head resting on his folded arms, lightly snoring.

  She turned and quickly checked Wilbur’s bed, and her breath caught in her chest. It was empty.

  How could that be? Struck with horror, she jumped up, her sock-covered feet slipping on the floor.

  “Cole, get up. Wilbur is gone. I don’t see him anywhere.”

  Cole slowly roused; he looked dazed. He squinted at her as she ran around the kitchen, searching for the pig.

  She looked under the kitchen chairs and an old-fashioned hutch that had ample space beneath it for a piglet to hide.

  She once had a friend with an ailing cat that had crawled off to die when the time came, settling in the back of a closet. Is that what had happened? Dear heaven, she hoped not.

  Cole swiftly joined the search. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s snuggled in the towels down there?”

  He looked alarmed and totally disarming with his bedhead and bearded face. Lauren knew that she must look like the Crypt Keeper but couldn’t stop to worry about it.

  There had been a baby gate across the kitchen doorway during Wilbur’s stay, but when he got sick, no one paid attention to keeping it in place. It hung open, accusing them. The pig could be anywhere in the house by now.

  “I’ll search the porch,” she suggested. “You check the rest of the house. He’s got to be somewhere. I mean, the car keys are still here.”

  A small spot of humor. Very small. Didn’t help either, she reflected as she ran out to the small screened-in porch near the kitchen, which had many more piglet-sized nooks and crannies. She used the light from her phone to peer into the small, dark spaces.

  “Wilbur? Wilbur, honey? Where are you?” Lauren called softly. “Please come out.”

  After a thorough search of her assigned territory, she had to admit he was nowhere to be seen.

  She met Cole in the kitchen. She could see from his expression he had found no sign of the runaway patient either.

  “What in heaven’s name do we do now?” she wondered.

  “I don’t know. I suppose he could have gotten outside, though I don’t see how.”

  Outside, in his state? On a frigid night in December? That scenario would likely spell the end for him, Lauren thought sadly.

  “I sure hope not,” she replied in a quiet voice.

  Cole stared at her and took a deep breath.

  They heard Phoebe’s steps on the stairs. Lauren’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Phoebe’s up,” he whispered. “Blast it all. She never gets up this early.”

  Lauren swallowed hard. “We just have to tell her the truth. I mean, it’s your call. Entirely. But she’ll see that he’s gone right away.”

  He let out a long, frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. Let me think a second before you say anything.”

  Lauren nodded. “Of course.”

  Phoebe was steps from the kitchen, and they both held their breath, waiting for her.

  “Look who I found in my bedroom! He woke me up. He nearly jumped in my bed, Daddy. I think he’s hungry.”

  Phoebe walked in, holding Wilbur in her arms. He was licking her chin and looked as lively and healthy and in “the piggy pink” as Lauren had ever seen him.

  Cole practically collapsed with relief and clung to a kitchen chair. Lauren didn’t feel much better and leaned heavily on the refrigerator. “For goodness’ sake. We were looking all over for him. We didn’t know where he’d gone,” she admitted.

  “He must feel a lot better if he made it all the way up the stairs.” Cole walked over to Phoebe and took a closer look. “Hey, Wilbur. Happy Monday.”

  Wilbur gave a snorty-sounding oink, and everyone laughed. “I’ll take his temperature in a minute,” Lauren said. “But I think the medicine must have finally taken hold. Seems he’s on the mend.”

  “Excellent diagnosis, Dr. Willoughby,” Cole teased her with a warm smile.

  “Pig Lady, please. That’s my official title, and proud of it. Especially after last night.”

  “You earned it,” he said. “Hey, we’ll get you a special T-shirt for Christmas.”

  “And I’ll cherish it always.” Lauren meant it, too.

  Feeling elated over Wilbur’s dramatic recovery, they rushed to feed him and keep up with his medication. Lauren reported in to Dr. Ackroyd while Phoebe hurriedly ate a bowl of cereal and got ready for school.

  Lauren freshened up in the bathroom, but it wasn’t much help. When she emerged, she realized there was no time to stop home and change. She had to go straight to Joe’s office.

  They left the cottage together. Cole and Phoebe headed to school in his truck and Lauren headed to the village. Phoebe had bid her goodbye with another huge hug and even a kiss on the cheek this time. Lauren thought she could live off the sweetness for months, like Wilbur’s bottles of honey water.

  She waved to them as she drove off the property. She liked the feeling of being on good terms with Cole. Better than good terms. Last night she’d felt genuinely close to him. Open and honest. As if something was happening between them. Something important. Or something that could be, given time?

  Had he felt that way, too? She didn’t dare hope. But, of course, she couldn’t help wishing. And calculating how long it might be before she saw Cole McGuire again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sorry I’m late, everyone. I had an emergency.” Lauren swept into the meeting wearing the same clothes she’d had on at church the day before: a thick, cream-colored cowl-neck sweater, jeans, and her peacoat. She was sure Joe noticed. He stared at her and cleared his throat. Of course, he wouldn’t ask in front of a client how that had happened. If he had the nerve to ask at all.

  Madeleine Belkin offered a calm smile. She didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about her new attorney’s casual appearance, though she herself was dressed in a turtleneck sweater, tweed skirt, and black blazer, looking polished and professional yet relaxed. Lauren liked that.

  Lauren had already spoke
n to her once on the phone at length and had gotten the impression that Madeleine was the type of person who was focused not on appearances or the trappings of things but on what was inside. She wrote code for software, so she naturally had a logical, mathematical mind. Lauren liked that about her, too. But she still wasn’t sure that Madeleine understood what she was taking on—or the possible consequences.

  “We were just discussing the materials we need to gather to back up Madeleine’s claim against Dendur, as well as any possible witnesses that might support her assertions about their compensation practices,” Joe said.

  “Right. I’ve made a list for discovery.” Lauren slipped copies from a folder and gave one to each of them. “But before we go over it, I think we should talk about the big picture, Madeleine.”

  “And by that you mean—” Joe cut in.

  “I want to be sure that Madeleine has a clear idea of what she’s getting into.”

  “All right. And call me Maddie. Please.”

  Her soft, clear voice threw Lauren off for a moment, but she quickly gathered her thoughts. “Dendur is a big player in your field, Maddie. If they decide not to settle quietly and fight you, this action will get a lot of attention. Not on the evening news, but certainly in your industry. In fact, even if they try to keep a lid on it, people talk. You’ll get a reputation as a whistleblower and a troublemaker, or as someone who isn’t a team player. However they want to say it. They’ll find other ways to impugn your character, too. Even if you’re a saint. You’d be surprised how damaging and hurtful mere hearsay or distortions—or straight-up slander—can feel. Other companies may not want to hire you.”

  Joe had been staring at her, his expression growing darker. “Lauren, do you really have to go there right now? We haven’t even gotten started.”

  “Which is why this is the best time to go there, Joe. Before we’ve all invested a lot of energy and effort.”

  He was as annoyed with her as she’d ever seen him. Was it really because of her stern warning to Maddie Belkin, which might scare her off as a client? Or because he knew where she went yesterday afternoon after she broke their date? And here she was, Monday morning, in the same outfit.