The Twelve Gifts of Christmas

by Rita Clay Estrada

  But the appearance of Carly in his life had made him realize just how ready he was to be involved in a steady relationship. He needed a female companion for business functions and for those nights when he was content to stay at home and entertain.

  Yes, he wanted a relationship, but it had to be casual. No pressure, no emotional stress. He’d seen enough of that. His parents had hardly spoken to each other. His father had been afraid his mother would leave him, while his mom had been just plain afraid of his dad. His own marriage had been disastrous in a different way. He had indulged in his wife’s every material whim. But for all the expensive things he gave her, she could give nothing emotionally in return. He was determined that the next relationship would be different—something more for his benefit.

  It would be something much better than a marriage, with its headaches of wondering whether he was coming home to a meal or to a fight. The extremes that most marriages went through were nerve-racking. It was a lot easier being single.

  So Pete silently thanked Carly for waking him up to the fact that he was ready for a steady relationship again. But not with her. Her life-style made her all wrong for the part. She was a mother—an important reason for staying away from her. He didn’t want to be surrogate father ever again. Besides, Carly seemed too independent for the type of relationship he wanted. His hectic schedule demanded a woman who could be ready for a date at a moment’s notice. And she’d have to be content to fend for herself at business functions while he made contacts. Sooner or later, he would find the right woman, and when he did, he would try out a steady relationship for size.

  Yes. Good.

  He removed the key from the ignition and stepped out of his car. The parking lot was packed with cars and people. A bite of cold in the air energized him. Next to the grocery store was a wine shop that rivaled those of downtown D.C. and he suddenly knew what he wanted—a wonderful bottle of Merlot.

  He completed his shopping and, on his way back out, spied a familiar-looking redhead. He didn’t hesitate a moment.

  “Carly!”

  Holding two plastic grocery bags, she turned and searched around before she saw him. When she did, her wide smile warmed his insides. He took his time approaching her, keeping himself from rushing as if it were some kind of training. “How are you?” he asked when he reached her.

  “Fine. And you?” Her response was polite and reserved. But her eyes danced with tiny lights. “Have you finished your remodeling yet?”

  “Almost. And have you found Prince Charming yet?”

  “No. It might take a while.” A dimple showed itself on her cheek for just a fleeting moment.

  “Anything worthwhile out there?” His tone sounded derisive to his own ears, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like the thought of her looking for a prince. She was heading for disappointment; there was no such thing. Didn’t she know that?

  “Anything worth having is worth waiting for,” she countered.

  He frowned. “What does that mean?”

  She laughed and the sound danced seductively down his spine. “Who knows? It was just something to say!”

  A gust of chilly wind blew a strand of hair across her eyes and she pushed it away. It reminded Pete they were standing in the cold. He looked around, then down at her. “Look, there’s a little bar around the corner. Have a drink with me.”

  Carly opened her mouth to decline, but something stopped her. She wasn’t sure why she would want to be with a man who, only a few days ago, had obviously been turned off by her. But there seemed to be no evidence of that right now. Instead, his hand on her arm and the look in his eyes compelled her to linger. He’d obviously changed his mind about keeping his distance. She glanced at her watch.

  Karen was at Girl Scouts, and the aunts didn’t leave home until eight to attend a charity function. “Okay. I’ve got a little time.”

  A few minutes later they were seated in a dim booth, with glasses of white wine on the table between them. Their mutual silence was as loaded as their locked gaze. Pete seemed unable to keep his eyes off Carly. Being with her was like playing with fire. She enticed him, yet warning bells kept ringing. He had to keep the situation under control. “Listen,” he began, “occasionally, I need a date for dinners and charity functions. Someone who can handle herself when she’s alone in a group of strangers and I’m in another area of the room.”

  Her brows rose. “Really? What an odd need. Why have a date at all?”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy. Actually, he should have thought this out a little more before approaching her. But he hadn’t, and he was in the middle of it now. He might as well make the best of it. “Because most of the functions pretend to be social occasions rather than business. I was wondering if you would be interested. In return, I’d pay for the necessary clothing.”

  He felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his hands were cold and clammy—like a teenager asking for his first date.

  Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Me?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” he retorted.

  “Because...” She hesitated. “You’ve given the impression that you’re not particularly interested in me. Why would you want to invite someone you don’t really seem to care for?”

  He looked surprised. “What makes you say that? Have I been rude to you?”

  She leaned back, her slim fingers circling the rim of her glass. “No, but you backed off so quickly when I introduced you to my daughter that I figured you either didn’t like children or I wasn’t your type and you didn’t show it until then.”

  Pete paused. He hadn’t known it was that obvious. “You get straight to the point, don’t you?”

  “You want me to pretend you behaved otherwise?”

  He couldn’t help the unrepentant grin. “Well, yes, I did.”

  “Sorry. You’ve got the wrong girl. I’m not into playing head games if I can help it. It’s not profitable in any kind of relationship.”

  “What kind of relationship are you looking for?”

  A small quirk around her mouth showed the errant dimple again. “I don’t think that’s the topic of discussion. Being a date for charity functions is on the table right now.”

  He laughed, low and deep in his throat. “Do you have Robert’s Rules of Order in your purse?”

  She gave him a disparaging look, but her delightful dimple reappeared.

  He raised his hands as if giving up. “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so independent. It’s the very thing I like about you. But it also makes me unsure what to do or say. Women take umbrage at the oddest things.”

  “Well, now,” she drawled. “I wonder if you’d use them words if I was male?”

  “No,” he said with a straight face. “I’d have a fist to chew on if I did.”

  Laughing, she relaxed. Ever since they’d met they had dodged and feinted verbally, just like a couple of prizefighters. “Let’s start over. What exactly is your request?”

  “I need a date who doesn’t expect me always to be at her side. In short, I need someone who can take care of herself and not demand too much romance.”

  “What a charming description of paid help. But tell me something. You’re good-looking, wealthy and intelligent. My aunt tells me that you’re even invited to the White House with some regularity.” She tilted her head and her auburn hair fell enticingingly over one shoulder. “Women must be falling all over themselves to date you. Why don’t you ask one of your girlfriends?”

  It gave him a sense of satisfaction that she’d mentioned some of his attributes. But he was disappointed that she seemed to be turning him down. “When I ask a woman I’m romantically involved with to go to one of those functions, it’s a disaster. She wants me to pay attention to her, as though it were a regular social occasion.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Those big bad girls,” she chided softly. “Imagine making such demands upon your precious time.”

&nb
sp; He could actually feel his face grow warm. She was frustratingly perceptive. “I’m trying to be honest, and you’re making fun of me.” He reached for his wallet.

  She grinned. “Well, I guess I should be flattered. Although you’ve told me I’m the type you wouldn’t be romantic with, you did imply that I might have enough common sense to stay out of trouble in social situations without your help.”

  “Damn, you won’t give a man a break, will you?”

  “Not when he’s insulted me and given me a backhanded compliment in one fell swoop. Instead, I become confused.”

  He felt defeated. He dropped some money on the table between them and pushed back his chair. She didn’t move. She didn’t say a word. Instead of storming out as he’d planned, he stopped and stared at her. Her expression was without mirth, her eyes watching his every move as if memorizing him. “Why are you acting this way?” he finally found the nerve to ask.

  Carly shook her head wearily. “I just don’t understand you. All I do know is you’re not the type of man for me. But, you...” She didn’t continue and he waited in the silence. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue. Still he waited.

  She sighed and pushed back a strand of hair. “I’ve decided to look into dating again. It just so happened that you were there when I decided this. But your behavior was like a dash of icy water in my face. I resent that you reminded me just how hard it is in the dating arena, how difficult it is for a mother to adjust to the singles scene.”

  It was his turn to be silent, but only because he didn’t know what to say. He suddenly realized how much his actions had hurt her—something he hadn’t meant to do. He was too cynical and had been alone so long he’d stopped feeling the need to explain his actions to anyone, but she deserved an explanation. “I’m sorry I acted that way. I didn’t set out to hurt you, but you see, you’re a mother....”

  “How observant,” she said dryly.

  He gave her a look of frustration. “And I promised myself that I would never date a woman with a ready-made family again. It’s too hard when—Besides, I have my own children to be a father to.”

  “If that’s how you feel, then I guess it’s good you warn women ahead of time.”

  He should have known how despicable his confession would sound. Until now, he’d never put it into words. If she hadn’t been so open and honest, he probably wouldn’t have expressed it at all. “Just for the record and before you think I’m a complete jerk, I’ll try to explain. I have a nine-year-old daughter I adore, and a thirteen-year-old stepson I fell in love with the first time we met.” He stared down at his drink before continuing. It took every bit of courage he had to air something so deeply personal; something that hurt so badly most of the time, he kept it buried. For some unknown reason he wanted this woman to understand. “When my wife left, she took the children with her. I tried for joint custody, but by that time, she’d remarried and moved to California to live with her new husband. Now my children have a new father, and I can’t see them other than during school vacations. Occasionally I take off a day or two and fly out to see them, but it’s not the same. I want them here, but their mother doesn’t like them to fly alone. So I’m stuck unless I want to take it to court, and I won’t put the kids through even more emotional trauma.”

  After a brief silence he looked up at her and realized her eyes were glazed with tears. She reached out and covered his hand with the comforting warmth of hers, then gave a squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”

  It was the touch that he’d needed so badly, the womanly stroke that he missed most. The hand told him that even though his words could never fully explain the heartache he felt, she understood. “So am I. But it taught me a few things. I’ll never again became involved in a relationship that makes me part of a family, unless I know for certain it’s going to be permanent. Unfortunately my divorce taught me that no relationship is guaranteed.”

  Carly pulled her hand back and Pete sensed her mental withdrawal. He wished he could retract his words. But it was too late.

  “Well, I’m not sure I understand you, but I get the message loud and clear.” Carly rose and began rummaging through her purse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for the cost of my drink.”

  He covered her hand with his. “I invited. I buy.”

  She stopped searching, and a small smile formed on her full lips. “Thank you. I’m just relearning all the rules of dating, you see.”

  “It’s very simple. Be honest. Be sincere. Don’t pretend you can put more into a relationship than you’re able.”

  “Simple, direct and to the point.” Her smile faltered just a little.

  She dropped her hand to her side and Pete felt saddened by the loss of her touch. “Well, what do you say?” he prompted.

  “No, thank you.”

  “To what?”

  She took a deep sigh. “To everything, Mr. Cade. Contrary to your beliefs, I’m not looking for a father for my child. She already has one who loves her very much. But I will not be with anyone who doesn’t have her best interests at heart. Karen deserves better and so do I. And since you fit that category, I’ll stay out of your personal life and expect the same from you.”

  Carly rose and walked halfway to the door before Pete called to her. “Carly? What would you have said if I’d told you I thought your daughter was darling?”

  She turned slowly around and cocked her head as she stared at him thoughtfully. “I would have said you show great taste, Mr. Cade.”

  “And...?”

  Carly shrugged. “And what?”

  Pete knew when to back off. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  As she turned her back to him, he heard her say, “Don’t count on it, Pete.”

  Before he could think of a response, she was gone. Several men at the bar had turned to listen to their exchange, but at his direct look, they turned back and resumed their own conversations.

  Pete slipped his legs under the table again and stared into his untouched drink.

  She’d told him off good and proper, with all the justification in the world. He’d deserved every barb that she could inflict. It was a tacky way to act. He deserved a kick in the butt for the way he’d treated her.

  But he’d met a special woman whom he’d instantly felt attracted to and hadn’t been prepared for a child to enter the picture. Instead of rolling with the unexpected complication, he had withdrawn and hurt her in the process.

  So? A cynical part of his brain questioned. No one gave a second thought to hurting you. No one cared when you lost your children to a damned stranger!

  But Pete knew that wasn’t the real problem. What really bothered him was that, although his children loved him, they also loved and accepted the other man so readily. Children adjusted quickly to change. But he hadn’t adapted to losing his family. He resented it. He’d worked so hard, loved so much, been hurt even more. And after four years, the same question still battered at his emotions: If he’d done everything right, why had he lost what meant the most to him? Why had he lost his children? Was there something wrong with him? What made him so unlovable? He’d lost the love of his parents, his wife, his kids...

  He squelched that thought quickly. It didn’t do him any good to consider it. Change the subject, Cade. Think of something else.

  He remembered Carly’s little girl dressed in her owl costume. Her dark auburn hair, textured so like her mother’s, her bright face alive with eagerness. She was so earnest when she’d questioned him about baseball. Baseball!

  No. There was no way he would become entangled with a woman like Carly whose motherhood was obviously so important to her. Everything, including him, would come second. That had been his place in every relationship. But no more. Never. Nada. No way.

  Pete didn’t need to finish his drink to know it was time to leave. He slipped an extra dollar on the table and walked out. A big hot-air balloon in the shape of a turkey floated above the grocery-store par
king lot. He stared up at it, hating everything it symbolized—family get-togethers, visiting relatives and loved ones to share the occasion with. Knowing Christmas was around the corner, he also realized it was going to get worse.

  He hated the holidays, especially Christmas. As a child it had meant his father home all day and the big man’s attention even more focused on him or his mother. No matter how hard they tried to appease him, his dad would lose control over some small thing, and he and his mom would pay for it.

  When he was married and had a family of his own to celebrate with, for a little while the holidays were a source of joy. He’d managed to turn away the bad thoughts and find wonderful replacement feelings. It had become a season to treasure. Family. Togetherness. Love. Sharing.

  Then his wife left, taking the children, and he was alone again. Only this time it was harder to deal with. As a child, he’d had no choice. As an adult, he’d found what he wanted only to lose it. In some ways, he had no one but himself to blame....

  So now, holidays had become the bane of his existence. Bah, humbug! He refused even to decorate the house.

  “Damn,” he muttered to himself, as he quickly walked to his car. He was turning into an old curmudgeon. But he survived best that way. He needed to remain in control of everything—his emotions, his thoughts, his actions. His love.

  * * *

  FOR HER DAUGHTER’S benefit, Carly refused to let the lump in her throat interfere with the smile plastered on her face. She had left Pete’s company to pick up Karen. Judging by the painful emotions she was feeling right now, she realized she should have left earlier.

  “And Cindy said that she was better’n me, so we played Turkey in the Straw to prove who was best.”

  “And who won?” Carly asked, trying to keep her mind on her daughter.

  “Mama! I did. You know I can play better’n her!”

  “Well, you never can tell. She might have been practicing, honey.” Her answer was automatic.

  “Yes, but I chose the song to play. I’m not gonna pick one that she can play better!” Karen sat back, a look of triumph on her face that reminded Carly of Ken. Genes were funny things, picking up oddities at random.