by Holly Jacobs
"I guess you're right." He glanced up at the clock. "Oh, man, we're leaving in ten minutes." He shoved the rest of his doughnut in his mouth and said, "Thanks, Dan."
At least that's what Daniel thought he said.
"Brandon, not with your mouth full," Michelle scolded again.
Daniel laughed. "You can keep saying it, but it doesn't appear to be working."
"I can live in hope that someday it will," she said, having a last sip of coffee, then taking the cup to the sink, rinsing it and putting it in the dishwasher.
She came back for the dishes Brandon had left.
"Listen, Michelle—" He could see her tense up as he said the words. He assumed she thought he was going to talk about their relationship again, but he'd decided not to. Talking just gave her a chance to argue against it. So, no more talking, but hopefully a lot more kissing. "We've got almost everything done for the Christmas Fair, so I thought maybe after school, I could pick up the two of you in my truck and we could get Christmas trees for your place and for mine."
"Daniel, you don't have to—"
He cut her off. "I want to. Unless you don't."
She paused a moment, then admitted, "No, I want to, too."
"Then I'll be here a little after three. Maybe you two could come back to my place and help me set mine up?" He waited, sure she was going to say no.
"Fine."
He leaned forward and kissed her, very carefully keeping it light. "Thanks."
Daniel was going to try to keep things casual and ease Michelle into the idea that he wasn't going anywhere. It didn't matter what the test came back saying. He'd realized that he was in this. He cared for Michelle and Brandon. He didn't need a test to tell him they were supposed to be his family.
He knew it was fast, and he was willing to accept that it might take Michelle a little longer to figure that out.
Brandon ran back into the kitchen, and though they were no longer touching, Michelle took a step back, increasing the distance between them.
"Okay, Aunt Shell, I'm ready." Brandon tossed a book bag onto the stool and glanced at the clock. "Two minutes to spare."
"He likes to try and beat the clock," Michelle told Daniel.
"Your aunt said it would be okay with her if the three of us went to get trees tonight together. Then we'll grab a pizza and the two of you can come help me set mine up."
"And then you're coming here to help us with ours?"
"Why don't we wait until this weekend to set ours up, Bran.? After your hockey tryouts?" Michelle was gathering up her things for work. "Setting up one tree in a day is enough."
"Okay. But you'll come help, right, Dan?"
Daniel looked at Michelle and she nodded.
"You couldn't keep me from it."
THE CHRISTMAS TREE shopping had been a success, and Daniel's looked great in his living room. He had ornaments his grandfather had carved, and every year he did a new one himself. He was hoping hockey tryout day went as well.
Saturday morning, Daniel was prompt when he picked them up and drove Brandon to the ice rink for his tryout. Brandon rambled excitedly in the back of the truck as they parked in front of the rink.
Michelle turned around in her seat. "Do you have everything?"
"Yes. You asked me before we left the house, too." Brandon heaved a sigh that said he was too old to be babied.
"Sorry." She unbuckled her seat belt and started to open her door.
"Aunt Shell, you can't come in," Brandon said, horror in his voice. "You've signed the forms and I have them in my bag. I go in alone. You and Dan can go somewhere and just come pick me up in three hours."
"Oh." Her hand slipped from the door handle. "Yes, of course."
"I'll buy you brunch," Daniel offered.
She smiled. "Thanks. That would be nice."
"Good luck," he said to Brandon, then looked at Michelle, knowing that she wasn't exactly hoping Brandon made the team.
"Yes, good luck. We'll be back in three hours then. You don't leave the rink for any reason until we're back."
"The coaches wouldn't let me even if I wanted to," Brandon assured her.
They both watched until Brandon was safely inside the ice arena.
"So, how about that brunch?" Daniel asked, wanting to pin her down because she looked, for all intents and purposes, like someone who was ready to bolt.
"You don't have to do that." Her gaze was still locked on the rink's doors. Either she was afraid Brandon was going to make a break for it, or she wanted to avoid looking at Daniel.
"I want to have brunch with you," he said.
"Fine."
"Ah, Michelle, your enthusiasm is touching," he teased.
She finally looked at him and laughed as he put the car into Drive.
The sound brought to mind making love with her and his body tightened.
He concentrated on driving. That was definitely safer than thinking about making love to Michelle.
He pulled out of the parking lot and turned east onto Thirty-Eighth Street.
"I just figured we'd grab something on Peach Street," she said as she noticed they were heading in the opposite direction.
Peach Street was populated with restaurants, and the ice rink was practically around the corner, so he understood why she thought that. But he had other ideas. . .ones that didn't include a busy restaurant.
"I figured I'd cook for us. I was going to drive us out to my place, but if you'd rather, we could go to yours. It's closer." And closer was good. Because one afternoon making love to Michelle wasn't nearly enough. "Unless you're afraid to be alone with me."
"Of course not."
He glanced over and she looked truly insulted. "Well, fine. My place or yours? I'll cook."
"Whichever you prefer."
"My place then. I hate to leave Chloe alone all day."
Michelle looked as if she wished he'd said her place, and he didn't blame her. As much as he really did hate leaving Chloe alone, he'd chosen his house because it was his home turf. He hoped that gave him some edge. He needed all the help he could get.
She was quiet the rest of the ride out to his house. And as they went inside and took off their coats and boots, she started toward the kitchen. Rather than following her, he grabbed her hand and gently led her toward the tree. "I made you something. I'll confess, it's sort of a bribe. After you see it, I figure you'll feel you have to ask me to stay for dinner once I help decorate your tree and. . .well, it will mean I get to spend the day with you both."
"You don't need to bribe me."
"But I wanted to." He reached under the tree and pulled out the small ornament. "Like I told you the other day, my grandfather made an ornament a year for my grandmother. I've kept the tradition, making a new one each year for the tree. I like mixing the new with the old."
Michelle fingered a small birdhouse on Daniel's tree. "I love that. We never had holiday traditions when I was growing up. I've tried to give some to Brandon."
"Well, we'll make the ornaments a new one for the three of us. So, here's your first one." He handed her the small gift bag.
Michelle opened it up and pulled a small oval Santa's head from it. Daniel had carved and painted it, then added a light stain to give it an antique appearance before he put the sealant on. She studied it. "It's beautiful."
"Did it work?"
"Pardon?"
He wiggled his eyebrows in a particularly wheedling way. "Did I guilt you into inviting me to stay after I help decorate your tree?"
"You look just like Brandon when you do that," she teased. "But yes, after such a lovely gift, I probably have to invite you."
"Ah, there's that enthusiasm again. And speaking of enthusiasm. . ." He leaned down and kissed her.
She hesitated and pulled back, "Really, Daniel, we. . ." She let the sentence fade out and kissed him back. Her kiss gave him the answer he was waiting for.
He broke the kiss, laughed as he swept her into his arms, then gave a small grunt. "I always wanted to do i
t like they do in the movies." He continued grunting and groaning as he carried her to his room.
"I don't think the heroes in the movies make all that noise when they carry the heroine to their room," she assured him.
"That's because they have sound editors who cut that part."
AFTERWARD, wrapped in Daniel's quilt, Michelle snuggled against him. "This is a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning," she told him. "I love being here with you, like this. I know I've been preaching keeping our distance, but—"
He couldn't keep it in any longer. He interrupted her and blurted out what had been on his mind for days, "I love you."
MICHELLE PULLED the quilt tighter and scooted away from him. She was allowing herself to contemplate asking Daniel if they had time to make love again, when he had to ruin it. She didn't know what to say.
After the silence stretched too long, Daniel finally said, "I know you keep saying it's too soon, but I think, if you're honest, you love me, too."
"Samantha said that love doesn't follow a timetable or something like that," Michelle muttered, more to herself than to him. But when she realized she'd said the words out loud, she hastily added, "But even if it doesn't follow a timetable, it's too soon."
"I liked Samantha the moment I met her, and I have to say, she's right. I love you, Michelle. I love everything about you. I love that—"
Before he could list her attributes, she interrupted. "I didn't ask for this. Not for any of this. My life was going along at its own pace. Smooth and serene. Then there you were on my doorstep and nothing's been smooth since."
It was too much. Michelle knew that she didn't handle change well. The last time her life had been this chaotic had been when Tara and Brandon had shown up on her porch. "I want things. . ."
Michelle didn't finish the sentence. What she'd intended to say was that she wanted things to go back to the way they were, but that wasn't true. She didn't want to go back to a time before Daniel, but she needed things to go slower.
"Maybe you need things shook up."
"Don't you understand—I don't? I like my quiet life. I like the order of it all. And I don't want you to love me." She surprised herself with the last part of her confession. She'd only started to adjust her reality to include Daniel in Brandon's and her life. But love?
It wasn't only the short time they'd known each other. It was the fact that Michelle was pretty sure that loving Daniel would be easy. . .and maybe that's what scared her most of all.
"Why, Michelle?"
Why? Why did the idea of Daniel loving her scare her more than the idea of him being Brandon's father, or even the idea of sleeping with him? "Everyone I've loved has walked out on me. My boyfriend left when he found out about Brandon. He didn't want to take on the responsibility. And that was fine, but he didn't want me to take it on, either. He wanted us to move to the city and forget about my nephew."
"I'm sorry, Michelle."
"My parents both left me, and Tara. Long before she died, she walked out on me."
"But don't you see, I'm not walking away—I'm walking toward you. You only have to meet me halfway."
Her excuses were lame. Even as she offered the words to Daniel, she knew. "The truth of the matter is, I'm afraid. . .I don't think I can give you what you want."
"You told me what Brandon said, about how he was what you were meant to do. Do you remember?"
Michelle nodded, the moment one she'd treasure forever.
"Well, maybe I am, too? Maybe I am what you were meant for? Because I'm pretty sure you and Brandon are what I was meant to do."
"Daniel, I don't want to hurt you. I just think we should stop this now while we can. The situation with Brandon and your paternity is tricky enough."
"I'll give you some space so you can—how did you put it?—adjust your reality. I can't stop loving you because you think it could be inconvenient, but I will back off and give you some breathing room."
"Thanks."
He got out of bed, grabbed his clothes and headed for the other bathroom. "You can have the shower here," he called over his shoulder and he purposely didn't look behind him to see if she was watching his very naked exit.
MICHELLE MADE IT through the weekend, but it was a near thing.
She kept seeing Daniel's very earnest expression as he told her he loved her. She saw it when they picked up Brandon after the tryouts. She saw it as the three of them put up her tree. She saw it as she put the ornament he had made for her onto a branch right at the front.
She even saw it in her dreams. Saw that expression and heard the words again—I love you.
By Monday morning she was a wreck. And she couldn't afford to be. There was so much to do for the Christmas Fair. She might have everything in order, but she was exhausted from a weekend of trying not to remember that Daniel McLean had said he loved her.
Samantha burst into the gym, where Michelle was setting up the Chinese auction at the table. "He's not coming."
"Who? Daniel?" Michelle tried to mask her disappointment. She should be relieved. Today was the last day they'd be working on the Christmas Fair. They wouldn't have any reason to be together as much as they'd been the past few weeks. She'd get her breathing room and then some.
"I like that your first concern is Daniel." Samantha sported a very matchmakery smile. "But no, I wasn't talking about Daniel. I was talking about your Santa."
"Mr. Travoetch?"
"Yes." Samantha nodded. "His wife called and he's sick with the flu."
This did not bode well for the day. Michelle's perfect Santa, done in by a bug.
"Now what?" Normally she'd already have formulated a couple alternate plans, but for the life of her, she couldn't manage even one. Dealing with Daniel had turned her mind to mush. She didn't know what to do.
Samantha must have taken pity on her, because she put an arm around her. "You'll just have to find a substitute. There are tons of school dads. One of them should be able to fill in. You go make calls, and I'll keep setting up in here."
Before she left, Samantha asked, "Did you talk to Carly this morning? I called and got her voice mail, so I left a message."
"Me, too," Michelle admitted. "I'm sure she'll call or come over as soon as she's done at the hearing." She was hoping by saying it aloud, she would convince herself as much as Samantha. She felt conflicted, knowing she had to be here but wanting to support Carly.
"Don't worry. Like Carly said, they have a plea agreement all set up. This is strictly a formality." Samantha would have been more convincing if she didn't look so uncertain as she said the words.
"Worrying is what I do best," Michelle admitted. And lately, she'd had far too many choices when it came to topics.
"Me, too. I think it's a mom thing," Samantha admitted.
"Maybe it's an aunt thing, too, because goodness knows, I'm good at it." The image of Brandon getting clobbered by a hockey puck flashed through her mind.
"You're a mom," Samantha said with certainty. "That might not be what Brandon calls you, but you have all the classic signs."
"You can read signs?" Michelle asked.
"Enough to know that not only are you Brandon's mom, you're in love with his possible dad."
There was that word again. Michelle didn't want to talk about love. No, she couldn't. She just wished people would stop pestering her about her supposed love. "I better go make those calls."
She went through the door at the back of the stage, into the hall and practically ran Daniel over. "Oh, you came."
He clutched his heart in mock delight. "Michelle, really, this enthusiasm of yours is becoming embarrassing."
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm flustered." Mindful of the potential for kids to overhear, she whispered, "Santa canceled due to the flu. I've got to start making calls and find a replacement."
"Or," he said.
"Or?"
"Or I could do it for you."
She had a hard time picturing Daniel as Santa, but maybe with enough
padding, and the beard. . . "Are you sure?"
He smiled. "Positive. What do you think? Ho, ho, ho."
She didn't have the heart to tell him his Santa chuckle was less than convincing. "I'm sure once we get you in the suit, you'll do fine. Thanks. That's one less thing on my plate."
"Let's go set up and then I'll get changed." He picked up a box that was on the floor.
"What's that?"
He opened the flaps. Inside were dozens of wooden toys. Cars, paddles with balls attached, and some wooden circles intertwined. She picked one up and looked at him.
"A puzzle of sorts. You have to unthread the circles from each other. It's harder than it looks."
She put the puzzle back in the box. "Daniel, these are beautiful, but really, you've already done so much."
"I wanted to, Michelle. And there's so much more I'd like to do."
He gave her a look that told her they were no longer talking about making toys, and she didn't want to have this particular conversation now. "Well, thanks. Now, let's go."
Two hours later, Michelle's volunteers were all there, and the first two classes had come through the Christmas Fair. She moved from table to table, putting out more merchandise for the kindergarten. When she came to the table with Daniel's wooden toys, she brought out a new batch, then glanced in the corner.
Daniel was sitting on the Santa throne, taking child after child on his lap and listening to their Christmas wishes. Connie was manning the camera, snapping Polaroids of each kid, then sending them to the frame station, where Ginny and Diane were helping them frame the pictures in construction paper for their parents.
Julie and Anna were working the beanbag tosses, and there was Dorothy, sitting at the table with the Christmas sucker tree.
Every corner of the room had something of Daniel in it. He'd permeated Erie Elementary as much as he'd taken over so many of her thoughts. She glanced at him again, listening to each child so earnestly. Nodding and giving them his undivided attention.
"Can't take your eyes off him," Samantha said, startling Michelle.
She reached into the box under the table and pulled out a couple more toys, then promptly added them to the rest. "I have to check on everyone and everything."
"Uh-huh." Samantha's tone said what she meant was, I don't believe you.