by Kirsten Lynn
Scooping her up, he sits her on his lap. “That’s right.”
I wrap my arms around Michael. Caleb chats with Ella and my parents are walking towards us, but the feel of the small boy on my lap is the focus of all my attention. It slams into me—Michael is mine. Somewhere in the last year, he became more than my nephew; he became my son. I hug him close.
When I meet my dad’s smile, he nods as if I just spoke my heart out loud. He addresses all of us. “Do we want to watch Santa come in by boat, or get to the library so we’re there right at the start of him reading?”
Michael stiffens against me. “Watch Santa!” Ella cheers.
Dad focuses on Michael. “We’ve got one vote. How about you, Michael?”
“We can watch him come in.”
I share a look with Caleb at what almost sounds like fear in his voice. “You sure?”
He tips his head back to meet my gaze. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dad claps his hands. “Okay, then let’s head over.”
Pushing out of the chairs, we gather the books and Mom puts them in her backpack. Caleb totes Ella, and I hold Michael’s hand. Mom steps next to me as we walk out of the store. I lean closer, so I’m not yelling over all the chatter on the street. “Didn’t Audrey want to come out again today?”
“She did, but her throat was scratchy this morning and she didn’t want to risk giving the kids a cold.”
I picture Hal and Alice walking down Bay View without a care about who sees their PDA. Poor Audrey, she’s made her mistakes with her children, but I still feel for her.
My mom’s voice brings me back to the present. “Michael and Ella told us all about the snowpeople and ornaments.”
“Oh?” I give Michael’s hand a squeeze.
“You’re a good mother, Brynn.”
“Thank you, that means everything coming from you.”
She winks at Michael when he glances at her, then lifts her chin using it to point to Caleb. “Looks and sounds like he’s fitting in, too.”
“He is.” I hold her gaze asking without words what she thinks about Caleb and me.
“That’s your choice, sweetheart, but make it quick.” She gives an almost invisible nod to Michael.
Dad and Caleb are deep in conversation, as well, but I can’t hear them even when we stop. I hope it’s about sports and not Hal.
When I tap Caleb’s arm, he turns. “Sorry to interrupt, but Michael can’t see. Can you lift him and I’ll lift Ella?”
“Absolutely.”
He passes the lighter Ella to me and lifts Michael onto his shoulders. The talk stops and all eyes turn to watch the small lobster boat approach, then applause. Santa and Mrs. Claus usher in the season with them. The couple waves as the lobster boat sails by. I’m not familiar with the couple playing the jolly Clauses this year, but they’re excellent choices as they look like they stepped from a Rockwell painting.
“Wave, guys!” I encourage the children. Ella’s little hand waves frantically, but Michael barely holds his up.
When Santa passes us, Caleb turns. “Let’s start towards the library.”
I hook Ella to my hip and start walking, my parents leading the way like bodyguards clearing the crowd before us.
I look to Caleb, who has Michael riding on his shoulders so we can move fast. “I’m thinking we should eat lunch after Santa reads The Night Before Christmas, then wait in line to see him. What do you think?”
“Yeah, we can backtrack if they want to see him.”
“Mom.”
“Yes,” she hollers back over the cheering and chatter.
“We’ll need to eat after the reading. We had a big breakfast, but it’s going to wear off with all the moving and excitement.”
“Got it.” She slows for a second. “Just remember we have to be to the auditorium by three for The Nutcracker.”
I jostle Ella and join her joy when she squeals at the announcement. “We won’t.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Caleb
With lunch winding down, I decide to brooch the Jolly Old Elf subject. “You two want to get a picture with Santa?” I try to put as much ho, ho, ho in my voice to encourage a positive response. Ella’s eyes grow big and a sheen of moisture gathers. Michael drops his gaze and gives his head a quick shake.
I shrug at Brynn. “Looks like a no, Angel.”
Her brow furrows and she replaces the spoon in her broccoli and cheese soup without taking a bite. “Ella, you love Santa. Why don’t you want a picture with him?”
The little pixie doesn’t blink. “I like him leaving presents and reading.”
“Michael?”
The boy doesn’t lift his head, just gives it another shake. Frank opens his mouth then shuts it, remembering his promise to let us parent the children.
Brynn mirrors my earlier shrug. “You’re right, looks like a negative.”
I shove in the last bite of my Italian sandwich and stare out the window to Camden Harbor while I think. Decision made, I turn from the cold water and gray sky to the warmth and fall colors in Brynn’s eyes. “Well, if we’re not going to see Santa, Michael and I have a stop to make.”
Michael’s head snaps up and he slides from his seat. “I’m ready.”
I smile at how eager he is for a mission he knows nothing about. He reminds me of the young Marines.
Brynn lifts an eyebrow and I return the gesture and then wink. “We’ll meet you at the ballet.”
She stops staring me down trying to read my mind regarding where I’m going and smiles. “Never thought I’d hear, ‘meet you at the ballet’, out of that Alpha mouth.”
I chuckle and shift my gaze between Michael and Ella. “I have a feeling you’re going to hear and see a lot you never thought you would in the next few years.”
“Oh, can’t wait—”
Before she can continue, Ella tugs on her sweater. “Aunt Brynn, do we have a stop?”
The smile she gives Ella could bring a man back to life. “Yes, we do with Nana and Gramps.”
The little girl claps and starts to sing a made-up Christmas song about stopping with her aunt. It’s adorable and hits me right in the heart.
I lift a hand saying goodbye to Frank and Rose, then drop a kiss on Ella’s head and then Brynn’s. “See you in a bit.”
“Okay,” Ella answers before Brynn can.
Tucking Michael’s hand in mine, I lead him from the Camden Deli. “What’s our stop, Uncle Caleb?”
“We’re heading back over to Bay View to Camden Jewelry Company to get your aunt an engagement ring.”
“Good, she needs one of those.” I hear Liz speaking through her son.
I hold back my laugh. “I thought so.”
Spending the past couple days in downtown Camden is leaving me torn. It’s feeling more like home with every shared look with Brynn and stroll holding the tiny hand of Michael, or Ella. But then I see Hal and his paralegal and recalling similar images throughout our childhood strips the day of some of its merriment.
Michael’s hand squeezing mine brings me back to the moment and the trust and love in the small movement erases the last dark shadow from the scene earlier. “You want to go to the toy store later?”
He shakes his head. “No thank you.”
What child doesn’t want to go to a toy store near Christmas? My new mission of the day is to forget my shit and focus full force on what’s going on with Michael.
Walking into the jewelry store, I guide him over to the rings and sit on my heels beside him. He angles his head toward me. “What do you think?”
“I think Brynn likes color, so we’ll steer clear of the solo diamond.”
He nods and turns back to the rings. “Her eyes turn almost green when she’s happy. You make her happy, so green?”
I squeeze his shoulder. “Good call, that’s why I brought you.”
“May I help you?”
I stand when the clerk stares over the counter at us. “We’d like to see these two rings with
emeralds.”
“Yes, sir.”
She sets them on the counter, and smiles when I lift Michael to show him the rings. I point to the ring with the white gold setting.
“I’m thinking this one, bud, what about you?”
He studies each as if he’s the one proposing. “Yeah, I like that one best, too.”
I set Michael back down on his feet, before straightening and handing the clerk the ring. “This in a six, please.”
“This is a six, sir. Should I box it up?”
“Please.”
“Uncle Caleb?”
I hold up my finger to stop her. “Yeah?”
“Gramps gave me a little money to get you and Aunt Brynn something. Is there anything here I can afford?” He hands me a ten-dollar bill.
“Absolutely. How about some earrings?”
His mouth curves into a 100-watt smile. I turn back to the clerk. “Would you mind showing the young man some earrings? Silver.”
“Yes, of course.”
God bless her, she brings a selection of silver earrings that don’t cost hundreds of dollars. Michael gasps and points to a pair of snowflakes. “Those. Do I have enough for those?”
“Just enough, bud. Perfect choice.”
He frowns. “But then I don’t have anything for you.”
“No worries.”
“You sure? Is there a cheaper pair?”
“Michael, your aunt Brynn deserves a nice gift. Get the snowflakes. I’ll enjoy looking at her wearing them.”
His forehead tugs into a frown and he runs a small finger over the fifty-dollar pair of earrings. “Okay. I’ll get these.”
I push the ten dollars and my card at the cashier. After she rings us up and wraps the earrings, I tuck the bag into my coat. “As far as Brynn knows, we struck out at our stop.”
He smiles and nods. “Yes, sir.”
“You and your son have a Merry Christmas.”
Taking Michael’s hand, I smile at the clerk. “Thank you, Merry Christmas to you.”
Walking to the Camden Opera House, I keep my strides as small as possible so he doesn’t feel like a chihuahua keeping up with a Great Dane. With a few warm days after the storm, the snow is melted from the sidewalks, but the piles from being shoveled bear witness to it. I check the sky, and while overcast, it doesn’t look like anything is brewing.
After a few minutes of silence I ask, “Why didn’t you want to see Santa?”
“I’m too old for Santa.”
“I hope not. I’m older than you and I’m not too old for Santa. Now the truth.”
“Only good kids should see Santa. He’ll know I’m bad.”
Holy shit. My mind races with what to say and how to get my heart dislodged from my throat. “Why are you bad?”
“I don’t want to talk about that, please.”
“I’ll let it go, for now.”
“Thank you.”
Brynn and Ella are waiting for us outside the opera house. Ella’s smile grows. Brynn’s drops when she sees us and I realize I look as much like shit as I feel. “Didn’t you have fun?”
Michael seems to recover. “We sure did. But we struck out at our stop.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
He glances back at me. “But I liked being with Uncle Caleb, just us.”
“Well, then you didn’t strike out.” He takes her hand and she lifts her gaze to me and raises an eyebrow, which seems to be our mode of conversation these days. I shake my head and she nods toward the door. We’re getting the silent chats down to an art. “Mom and Dad are guarding our seats; we better go inside.”
“Absolutely.”
She keeps hold of both Ella and Michael’s hands, and I follow the little family into the theater. There’s been a shift from aunt to mom with Brynn, and even though the kids still call her Aunt Brynn, a person would have to be obtuse not to hear it in their voices; they’re addressing their mother.
How do I fit in the family? I’m not “Dad” yet even if Michael did call me that the other day. There are times I feel like I’m there, and then I’m Uncle Caleb again. So far, I’ve been playing the part of Staff Sergeant with all the answers but feeling like first-day recruit who doesn’t know which way the mess hall is. Meanwhile I’m batting at hand grenades like the one Michael just tossed and hoping I say and do the right thing. Fun Uncle Caleb is running out of fun, and reality is biting me in the ass.
Brynn angles her head over her shoulder and smiles at me. I try to smile back, but by the way hers fades, I know I missed. When we settle into our seats, she laces her fingers with mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk later.”
“Ella, what are you doing?”
The little girl stops her low crawl over Brynn’s lap. “I want to sit on Caleb.”
“Did you ask him?”
Ella, clearly spending too much time around Brynn and me, lifts an eyebrow with a look that says she never even considered I’d say no, and I don’t. “Come on over.”
She continues over and then nestles in my lap. More shifting occurs as Michael moves from his seat to sit next to Brynn. As the curtain opens to the Christmas scene, the ballet fades, and in front of me plays out the scene of Brynn bringing a ragged-looking Christmas tree over while I sat in a plywood barrack and held her hand just like I’m doing now.
The scene changes on the stage and the Nutcracker is doing battle with the Mouse King. In my mind, the scene changes and I’m opening the letter from Mark’s lawyer in a barrack in Afghanistan. Reading it for the millionth time, I battled with tossing the letter and letting Brynn raise the children alone, or coming back to Maine hoping it wasn’t too late for us.
Days on deployment give ample time for thought as one blends into the next with a Groundhog Day experience. That’s what I did: think. The more I thought about Michael and Ella, the more I wanted to be their guardian. The more I thought about Brynn, the more I realized how much I’ve always wanted her and what an asshole I was for doing the one thing I promised her I never would, letting her go.
Ella leans back and rests her head on my chest, snapping me out of my inner musings just as the Mouse King falls and the Nutcracker becomes a prince. Ella, Michael, and the Reillys are transfixed as the Snow King and Queen appear. Brynn is staring at me. I hold her gaze sharing without words where my thoughts were. She shifts in her seat and directs her attention back to the ballet.
Staying in the present, I split my attention between dancers and Ella squirming this way and that on my lap, humming along to the music from the orchestra. Who needs sugar plum fairies when there’s Ella in the world? When the curtain closes for the last time, we join in the standing ovation even as Brynn starts herding the children out. We switch children outside the theater and continue shepherding the kids to the heads.
Meeting back in the lobby, I hold up a finger for her to give us a second and take Michael aside, sitting on my heels so we’re forced to make eye contact. “Michael, did you want a picture with Santa? No lies.”
“I would, but…”
Resting a hand on his shoulder, I give a slight squeeze. “I’m not going to push you for an answer today about why you think you’re not a good kid, but the big elf and I, we know different. If you want a picture, we’ll take you and you’ll see—he won’t even blink.”
He glances at the family and back. “He’s gone, though. I’m too late.”
“He’s in Lincolnville. We’ll have to triple-time, but we’ll make it.”
He kicks at the ground and pushes his glasses up. “You sure, Uncle Caleb? I don’t want to—”
“You’re not putting us out. You’re not bad. What’s the choice?”
“Please.”
“Good.”
I give his shoulder an encouraging squeeze and then lead him back to where everyone is waiting. Brynn zips Ella’s puffy pink coat, and her gaze cuts from me, to him, and then back. Her mouth curves in a questioning smile. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, we’ve gotta hustle, Angel. Michael wants a picture with Santa.”
“Oh!” She glances down to Michael and then to her parents. “Can you drive us to Lincolnville?”
Frank jingles his car keys. “Sure thing. Let’s go.”
Like an operation where every Marine knows their part, we manage to get to Lincolnville and in line for photos with Santa. Brynn has Ella on her hip as I stand behind Michael with my hands on his shoulders. He steps from one foot to the other.
“You still good to go?”
“Yes, sir.”
With all the people waiting, the room feels like my last training in the jungle. Brynn unzips Ella’s coats and manages to wrangle the girl out of it while still holding her. “You want a picture with Santa?”
The little girl shakes her head. Michael hands me his coat and looks around me to Ella. “You could go with me. That way you’re not alone.” The kid isn’t fooling me—he doesn’t want to go alone. Whatever works.
Ella’s brow furrows and she stares at the jolly old elf laughing with another child. While not looking completely convinced, she nods. “Okay.”
Michael’s shoulders relax, and it’s our turn. He nervously smoothes the front of his red sweater. Brynn and I walk the kids up, and Santa opens his arms. “Ho, Ho, Ho.”
Mrs. Claus bends closer, and she looks like she stepped out of the North Pole for real. “What are your names?”
The children mumble a response. I lift Michael onto one knee and Brynn sits Ella on the other. We step back and I have to hold back my laughter. Neither child looks altogether sold on the experience until the Santa starts talking to them. I thank God he’s a good Santa: real beard, real gut, and Santa personality all the way.
He asks each what they want for Christmas and Ella rattles off a list. Michael shrugs and then says something only Santa can hear.
“Okay, look over here.”
The three look at the photographer taking the pictures and, finally relaxed, their smiles are real. With a reminder to go to bed early Christmas Eve, Santa helps them down and they scurry over to us.
Brynn catches Ella and I catch Michael. We’re getting good at this partnership. “How’d it go?”
“You were right. He was nice. He didn’t even ask me.”