by Ginny Baird
Well, he sure didn’t come clear across town for nothing. He laid his hand on the doorknob, turning it easily. Folks should really take more precautions. Leaving your door unlocked these days could only invite trouble.
He tentatively pushed the door open and called inside, but got no response. Maybe they were in the back or were watching television. He walked a few feet indoors and yelled louder. It was then that he saw it, the big gaping hole in the wall. “Sweet Merry Christmas! What’s that? Looks like somebody bombed this place.” Or maybe that’s what this was, some sort of bomb shelter. Yeah, I’m betting that’s right. This whole setup just gets weirder and weirder.
He took a breath and stepped into the darkness.
William laid his hands on the back of the old pegboard, once meant to hold garden tools, and gently pushed. To his amazement, the pegboard popped off in his hands. He grappled to catch it before it spilled forward, then set it aside, leaning it against a nearby wall. “This is incredible,” he said, looking around the crowded space. Cobwebs were everywhere inside the old garden shed, several coating the lawn mower.
“Don’t do much yard work, do you?” Lucy asked.
He shrugged apologetically. “I hire a lawn service.”
“I must have remembered this place,” she told him with growing confidence. “Even when nothing else made sense to me. William, this is how I got in your house.”
“How long did you live here?” he asked in awe.
“Only until my parents died. I was twelve and a half.”
“Oh Lucy,” he said, his heart aching for her. “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes misted slightly. “After that, I went to live in a group home. Everyone there was very nice, but it wasn’t the same.”
Of course, it couldn’t have been. How horrible for her to have suffered that tragedy, and at such young age. “Didn’t you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked.
“No, it was just me.”
No wonder she’d asked about having kids. Perhaps she wanted the sort of family for herself that the fates hadn’t allowed her to have as a child. William spoke past the lump in his throat, wishing he could find a way to make things all better. He’d give anything to take away the pain in her eyes at the memory of her loss. “So, it’s just you then? You’re all alone?”
She drew a breath and forced a brighter look. “No, I’ve got Mitch.”
“Who’s Mitch?”
“That would be me,” a contentious voice said. “I’m the intended.”
William spun in surprise as a stout, dark-haired man stepped out of the passageway and into the crowded space with them.
“Mitch!” Lucy cried with alarm.
“Luce!” he answered, throwing his arms wide. “I thought I’d lost you!” He pulled her into a hug, snug up against him. She shot William a helpless look and his neck flushed hot. What could he do? He couldn’t possibly break up the happy reunion.
“Did this fellow hurt you?” Mitch asked, when Lucy pulled back. “Because if he did, I swear—”
“No, Mitch. Seriously. It’s not like that at all.”
“How is it, then?” he asked, suspiciously eyeing William. In all of his thirty-eight years, William had never felt so entirely sized up.
William stuck out his hand, unsure of what else to do. “I’m William Kinkaid.”
Mitch raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back toward Lucy. “Is this on the level? This guy’s all right?”
“Yes, Mitch.” Lucy sighed heavily. “It’s a really long story, but William had nothing to do with me coming here. He’s been nothing but the perfect gentleman, I swear.”
“Let’s hope so,” Mitch said, turning to take William’s hand. Before he could do it, he stopped. “Wait a minute... What about those, you know...” He cupped his hands in front of his chest. “Jingle bell things.”
“That wasn’t William,” Lucy rushed to explain. “That was Justin.”
“Justin? Was this some sort of threesome going on?”
“Mitch!” Lucy shouted in shock.
“Hold on one second,” William said, offended. “Justin is my son.”
“All the worse!” Mitch’s temples bulged and Lucy reached up to sooth them.
“Baby, a lot has happened in this house, but nothing like that. The Kinkaids are a very nice family. They were nothing but good to me.”
Mitch scowled, then shook his head. “Well, all right. If you say so.” He started to take William’s hand again, but stopped. “No monkey business, huh?” he asked Lucy. “Not even with this good-looking ape, here?”
She blushed bright crimson. “No, Mitch.”
“Well, good!” He gave her a quick peck on the lips that made William feel slightly sick to his stomach. He’d naturally known all along that Brid—uh, Lucy had a fiancé and another life waiting for her somewhere. He just hadn’t realized how unsettling it would be to see it.
Finally, Mitch extended his grip. “Nice to meet you, fellow,” Mitch said. “I can’t wait to hear this story.”
Emma and Grant entered the house holding fast-food bags and sent the kids upstairs to change. As they approached the kitchen, Emma halted, holding up a warning hand to her husband. Grant looked past her to William, sitting glumly at the kitchen table. Emma glanced at Grant with a worried frown. Something didn’t feel right in here. Plus, it was awfully quiet.
She put on her sunniest face and carted the burger bags to the kitchen’s center island. “We stopped and picked up dinner on the way home.”
“Kids already ate in the car,” Grant added. “Justin ate like a horse.”
William met his parents’ eyes with a sad gaze. “Thanks, guys.”
“Where’s Bridget?” Emma asked.
William sighed and set his palms on the table. “Mom. Dad. I have something to tell you.”
Grant walked over and took a seat as Emma slid into another chair.
“What is it, son?” Grant asked.
“Her name’s not Bridget,” William answered, with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s Lucy.”
“Well, Lucy’s a very nice—” Emma began.
“She’s gone.”
“Gone?” Grant was visibly surprised.
“Who’s gone?” Carmella asked, entering the kitchen.
William stared at his little daughter, hating to break the news. “Bridget, honey. I found out where she lives and—”
“No!” Carmella cried, lunging toward him.
“Hang on, fuzz brain.” Justin had appeared and wrapped his arms around her.
She glared at her father, tears streaking down her face. “But it can’t be true!”
“Is it, Dad?” Justin asked, his brow creased in concern.
William pursed his lips for a remorseful beat before speaking. “I’m sorry, kids. I wish—”
“But you promised!” Carmella shouted. “Promised, Daddy!”
He stood, stepping toward her, but she backed against Justin, who held her tight. Emma’s heart broke at the scene. Everyone here was falling apart, not the least of whom appeared to be her son.
“Pumpkin,” William said, his voice cracking.
“Don’t you ‘pumpkin’ me!” she said, breaking out of Justin’s embrace.
Before they knew it she was through the door, her small footfalls racing upstairs.
“I’ll go after her,” William told the others.
“Carmella, please honey, talk to me,” William said as she hunched forward, burying her face in a pillow. He swallowed past the burn in his throat. “I’m sorry, Carmella. Really, I am.”
“But you said she was my mommy!” her muffled voice returned.
William patiently removed the pillow and stroked her damp cheek with his thumb.
“I never said that, sweetheart. You did. I only said I believed in Santa.”
“But I don’t get it.” Pain streaked her eyes, threatening to cleave William in two. “If Bridget’s not her real name and Santa didn’t bring her... Then...” Her voice faltered
again. “There’s no Santa at all.”
“Now, hang on one second,” William said. “We don’t know that’s so.”
“But you can’t believe. You just can’t. Especially not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because he didn’t bring you what you wanted, either.”
“How do you know what Daddy wanted?”
She stared at him with moistened eyes. “Because I’ve heard you . . . crying at night.” William blinked, turning away. “You wanted somebody, too. Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he said in a whisper.
She reached out and touched his arm. “Then, there is no Santa Claus,” she said softly. “And if there is, he let us both down.”
If that was the truth, then why did Carmella’s statement ring so false in his heart? Maybe things hadn’t worked out as they might have, but he would never call having had Lucy here a mistake. In fact, having her presence in this house—even if for just a little while—had been the greatest of gifts.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” William said, pulling his daughter into a hug.
****
Chapter Nine
Time passed painfully slowly for Lucy. Nothing about it seemed to go right. When she got back to her tiny apartment, it appeared dark and cramped, and absent of holiday cheer. All of the Christmas decorations, including her miniature Christmas tree, were artificial. And each of her potted plants had wilted. She’d never been much of a gardener, anyway. Something like William, she supposed, noting the comparison only further dampened her spirits.
She hadn’t realized how attached she’d grown to him until the time had come for her to go. He was just the sort of guy she’d always dreamt of, almost like someone from one of those late-night TV shows. He was an excellent father, too. He was good with his kids, loving yet firm. He was there for them and they knew it, just as his parents remained there for him—and vice versa. Lucy sighed, reliving her moments in that happy home. What the Kinkaids had was a real family, and family was a feeling Lucy had nearly forgotten.
She sorted through the mail on the kitchen counter, hoping to find something of interest among the solicitations and bills. She paused, gripping a bright red envelope with no return address in her hands. It could be a Christmas card. Or maybe... just maybe... something from the Kinkaids? Her heart pounded as she recalled the gold flecks in William’s eyes. Him holding her under the mistletoe... Their almost kiss. She slipped a fingernail under the seal and popped it, then pulled the shiny red foil-covered card from its sleeve. Hoping Santa’s good to you this Christmas it said on the front. She flipped it open to read the message inside. And brings you a bag full of joy. Then, in his charming scrawl, Gus.
Lucy’s heart warmed despite her frown. Of course it was from Gus. He always ran a week behind and a dollar short. But he was the best darn boss a girl could hope for. Lucy stared out the window at the drifting snow, realizing how foolish she’d been. Thinking she might actually hear from the Kinkaids in general. William, in particular. Naturally, now that she’d gone, they’d all returned to their lives as normal.
That thought didn’t stop her from racing to the door a few hours later when the doorbell rang. She opened it to find a florist standing with a huge white box. “Two dozen of our best,” he said merrily. She thanked him with a blush and hurriedly took the box inside, ripping into its card. This time, I promise, I won’t let you down. Love, Mitch.
Lucy gave a melancholy smile, thinking Mitch wasn’t such a bad guy. In fact, he was a great guy, and the right guy for her. While it was true he got distracted at times, he was basically a decent man with a good heart. Someone who cared for her, and probably only overworked himself in order to do right by her. Besides, they’d been going out forever and sort of fit. He wasn’t a bad man and would treat Lucy right, wouldn’t run around on her, or purposely be unkind. Over time, they’d work out the baby thing. Once his business had settled down and he wasn’t so stressed, he’d be more willing to talk about it.
Lucy eyes misted at the memory of reading to Carmella by the fire and singing her early morning lullabies. Even Justin had seemed to be coming around. Perhaps slowly, but she had a gut instinct she could break through to him if she just kept trying. But these were silly things to dwell on when she had a wedding to plan. She and Mitch were getting married—married—in just a few days. There were so many things to check on, and loose ends to tie up.
Lucy felt a tad guilty for not being overwhelmed with joy at the thought of her upcoming nuptials, but knew that she’d get into it eventually. She was sure that when the big moment came, she could look Mitch in the eye and say I do with the hopeful expectation of any bride. The sooner she put the illusion of William meeting her at the top of the aisle instead of Mitch, the better. William was this banker prince, and here she she was, this diner Cinderella. It would do her good to keep her life in perspective and stick with the world she knew. At bottom, it was the only world she had.
William sat by the fire with his parents, sipping eggnog. “I want to thank you both for everything you did to help with Brid—I mean, Lucy.”
“Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?” Grant asked.
Emma smiled. “Lucy’s a nice name. Comes from Lucille, bearer of light.”
“And that’s how she was, too,” William said thoughtfully. “Just like a candle in a window that had been darkened too long.”
“Why son, that’s very poetic,” Grant said with surprise.
William shot his parents a sad smile. “And the funny thing is, I haven’t thought much about poetry, or anything else romantic, in a very long time.”
“We know, son,” Emma said kindly. “And we’ve kind of been hoping there’d come a day when those things would change.”
“What your mother means is, we’ve been wondering when the day would come when somebody special would turn your head.”
“We just never dreamed she’d get dropped down the chimney!” Emma said.
William set down his drink and stared at her in surprise. “Why Mom, aren’t you a little old to believe in Santa Claus?”
“Oh no, honey. It’s never too late to…” She swigged from her glass. “…renew one’s faith. Is it, Grant?” she asked, glancing at her husband.
Grant drained his glass and winked at William. “Never too late, indeed.”
A ways beyond their view and at a high bend in the steps, Justin had been sitting and eavesdropping on their adult conversation. He’d never seen his dad this way, all moping about like he’d lost his best friend. When his mom died, his dad had been tough. Super strong for all of them. Justin saw now that maybe that was because he felt he had to be. On the inside, he must have been hurting. Just as much as Justin and Carmella, in some ways. Maybe more.
Justin pulled the small wallet-size photo of Mary, the pretty girl from the skating rink, from his pocket and studied it. She had the sweetest looking face in all of the seventh grade, and he was betting she’d be the best-looking girl in the eighth, too. If he didn’t get her to go with him now, it would be over and done with by high school. All the more athletic and smarter boys would have moved in, leaving Justin out in the cold.
He stared down the flight of steps, imagining his dad’s long face. While he couldn’t precisely view his profile from his hidden spot on the stairs, he could envision how it might look, his brow all creased with worry, his lips taking a downward turn. Justin returned his gaze to Mary’s photo and her beautiful, cheerful smile. When that smile was meant for him it made his guts turn inside out, but in a good way. He guessed when Lucy had smiled at Dad, it had made him feel something similar. Maybe something he hadn’t felt in a while. For all of Justin’s life, his dad had done stuff for him and the fuzz brain. He was a good dad who loved them a lot. Maybe it was time that they let him know they loved him back.
Justin stealthily rose to his feet and crept back up the stairs, an idea taking hold. He tiptoed to his sister’s room and snuck in the door.
“W
hat are you doing?” she asked looking up from her Barbie dolls.
He quietly shut the door and rasped under his breath. “Carmella, I have an idea.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, firmly shaking her head. “Your ideas get you in trouble, and I don’t want any of that.”
“Not even . . .” he asked, with a tempting smile. “If they get Lucy back?”
Forty-five minutes later, Carmella goggled at Justin’s computer screen. “Looks really good. Do you think it will work?”
“In getting her attention? You bet.” He’d done his best with it, computer program modifications and all. It certainly got the message across.
“I still don’t know about that word.” She frowned. “Man-a-tory? Are you sure she’ll know what that means?”
Justin shot her an informed look. “Do reindeers fly?”
Carmella studied her brother. “You’re some kind of softie, aren’t you?”
“Let’s just say I had some growing up to do.”
“Does this have something to do with Mary?” she asked astutely.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to have another girl around. I mean, a grown-up one like Lucy, to ask all those mushy love questions to.”
“Love...?” Justin surveyed his sister, wondering how she knew so much. “Go back to bed,” he said, playfully swatting the side of her head.
William nearly bumped into Carmella exiting Justin’s room. “Well hello, pumpkin.” He did a double take. “Wait a minute. Didn’t I tuck you in over an hour ago?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, staging a yawn. “And I’m really tired.”
“Then what…?”
“Oh! I had a little bit of a bad dream, so I went to see Justin.”
“And Justin helped you out?” he asked uncertainly. The boy did appear to be turning over a new leaf. “Oh yes!” she said brightly. “All better now!”