by Jenna Mindel
Simon awkwardly took charge. He took off the wet diaper and folded and rolled it into a neat little square before moving on to the wipes. When he was done with those, he picked up the clean diaper, turning it a couple of times. “Which way does it go?”
Cat gave a quick tutorial. “Just remember, tabs in the back so they fold over in the front.”
“Here we go, Princess.” He lifted Opal’s feet and the baby gurgled and smiled.
Cat shook her head.
“How do you get the tabs to stick?”
“Pull them loose like so.” Cat reached over to show him and her shoulder rubbed against his.
He turned his head the same time she did, bringing them nose to nose again. “I think I have it now. Thanks.”
Cat searched his eyes.
He stopped breathing, but before he could lean closer, Cat backed away.
“It’s late. We’d better go.”
He watched as she clicked the top of the wipes tub closed and stuffed it in the diaper bag, along with Opal’s discarded pants.
He finished snapping Opal’s pink onesie before slipping on soft gray pull-on pants, followed by her socks and fleece booties. A fleece jacket, hat and matching mittens came next.
“Simon?”
He picked up Opal and cuddled her close. “Yes?”
“What time do you want me at the store?”
He looked at her. “Same time. One?”
“Perfect.” Cat reached out her hands. “Want me to take her?”
Simon waved her away and stood. “I’ll hold her while you gather her things. Take some pizza with you.”
Cat thoughtfully tipped her head. “Maybe just a slice or two.”
Simon walked around the room with Opal while Cat wrapped up some pizza and donned her coat. When he finally handed over the baby, he said, “Every kid deserves to know who her father is.”
“It’ll be years before Opal will ask. Will you be around when she does?”
He deserved the question, even though it hit him like a blow to the stomach. He hadn’t given Cat any kind of timetable for when he’d return or how often. Perhaps because leaving felt a lot like running away. Simon had always been good at running away.
Chapter Nine
By the end of the week, Cat had fallen into a nice routine with Opal at Simon’s jewelry shop. She arrived around one. The baby slept on the way there and for a while more at the shop. Then Cat fed her, and she and Simon played with Opal before the baby slept some more through the customer traffic and noise from Simon in his workshop.
Today he’d knocked that routine off track by telling her she needn’t come in until later for the shoppers’ walk. Since her parents were also attending the event, Cat decided to take Opal with her to Simon’s shop and had packed extra warm clothes for later. She’d also baked cookies and clipped some pine boughs to use in a vase on the counter. First up, get Opal settled inside, and then she’d fetch the rest.
Using a store key, Cat entered through the back, carrying Opal in her car seat, the diaper bag and another bag.
“There you are.” Simon smiled. “Whoa, what’s all that?”
“Stuff for walking around town.” Cat set everything down. “I have more. Can you watch Opal?”
Simon took the car seat. “Definitely.”
In minutes, she returned with a Christmas tin filled with sugar cookies, a vase and pine clippings and a few leftover pinecone sticks.
Simon gave her a quizzing look as he removed Opal’s pink fleece hat and carefully lifted her from the car seat. Gently, he cradled her without disturbing her slumber.
Cat slipped out of her mother’s puffy down coat and hung it up. She proceeded to fill the heavy cut-glass vase with water and made fresh cuts on the ends of the greenery before arranging it. She slipped in pinecone sticks that she’d coated with shimmering spray-on snow.
Simon stepped close. “What’s that for?”
“To bring a little Christmas inside the store.” Cat scooted away and set the vase on the counter.
“Looks nice, but it may be wasted if no one comes in. It’s been pretty dead in here.”
“Give it some time. It’s only five thirty.”
Simon laid Opal down in her travel crib. “I don’t know how to do that thing you do with the blanket.”
Cat nodded and swaddled up Opal. The baby jerked awake when Cat slipped on her matching flannel cap, but soon drifted back to sleep. Cat was blessed with a good sleeper—that was for certain.
Cat fetched the tin.
Simon was at her elbow. “And this?”
Cat opened the tin and laughed when his eyes lit up. “Cookies. Have one.”
“You made these?” Simon bit into one and closed his eyes. “These are good. Really good.”
Cat set the tin near the vase.
“One more.” Simon grabbed two.
“What’s your favorite?”
He lifted his hand. “So far, these.”
“Have you never baked cookies before?”
He shook his head. “No. My sister used to make chocolate chip on occasion.”
He rarely referenced his family. With what she knew about his mother’s issues, she could understand, but what about his brother and sister? “Do your siblings know where you are? That you moved here?”
His gaze clouded over. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t talked to either in years. At my mother’s funeral, it was pretty clear my sister didn’t want anything to do with me. My brother was in jail, so...” He shrugged.
She saw the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Some people aren’t meant to be a family.”
“It takes work to be a close-knit family, commitment.” Cat was grateful for her parents’ example.
The door jingled as it opened. They both greeted the small group of people that came in and attacked the cookies before milling around only to soon leave without buying anything.
“That was rude,” Simon said.
Cat chuckled. “The shoppers’ walk isn’t really about shopping so much as getting a look at what the merchants have to offer. And sure, some people meander in mostly for the treats. It’s not only a way to highlight the downtown businesses, but to thank people for their patronage.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t look convinced.
“You’re sort of tucked out of the way down here.” Cat scrunched her nose. “All the fun stuff’s happening in the center of town.”
“Then let’s go there.”
Cat glanced at Opal, still sleeping. “Give it a little time. Let’s see if anyone else comes in first.”
He nodded. “I checked on the crib and changing table I ordered for Opal. They’ll be delivered to the house early next week.”
“Your house?”
“Yes. You said you’re using an old crib at your parents’. This way, it’ll be set up and ready for you and Opal when you move in.”
After he left. “Thank you.”
He waved her thanks away. “I was thinking tomorrow might be a nice day to drive to Traverse City so you can pick out whatever you might need to make that second bedroom into a proper nursery.”
Cat felt her mouth drop open. “Simon—”
He held up his hand to stop her. “I want to do this. Let me purchase what you need.”
She bit her lip but finally nodded. She didn’t say what she was thinking—that what she needed couldn’t be bought and paid for.
* * *
After an hour with only two more people coming in and leaving without a single purchase, Simon had had enough.
“Let’s shut this down and go find the fun stuff.” He grabbed another cookie.
Cat bounced an awake Opal on her knee.
The baby gurgled and squealed w
hen Cat stopped, as if urging her to do it again.
“I’ll get us ready.”
It didn’t take long. By the time he’d turned off the lights and grabbed his coat and scarf, Cat had Opal bundled up and under her coat in that wrap carrier. He set the alarm before leading Cat out the door.
A blast of cold air compared to the warmth of the shop met them when they stepped outside. The night was clear with a scatter of stars overhead. It might be near thirty-two degrees, but the temperature was bound to drop as the night wore on. Was it too cold for a baby? He glanced at Cat. Apparently, she didn’t think so.
“Thank you for the vase of pine. It makes the store smell like Christmas.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“So, Traverse City tomorrow?”
Cat shook her head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully persistent?”
He grinned at her. “Can’t be in the gem-hunting business without being so.”
“You miss it.”
How did he explain that it wasn’t so much missing the travel or haggling for gems, as getting away from the mundane routine he’d had here. Although since seeing Cat, he hadn’t had a moment’s boredom. “What about you? Will you miss jet-setting all over the globe to highlight the next high-end vacation fad?”
“I already do.” Her voice sounded wistful. Even sad.
He didn’t like the idea of Cat being sad. “You said something about writing a piece on Maple Springs for freelance work. Are you going to try other areas around here for that?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Is your article done?”
“Not yet. I wanted to add some of this to it too.”
“Well, then, we’d better take advantage of everything we can tonight.”
Cat looked at him, clearly pleased. “Is that a promise, Simon Roberts?”
Was it? “Yes, it is, Catherine Zelinsky.”
Cat pointed. “Starting right now. There’s a horse-drawn carriage ride with our name on it.”
“All right, then.”
They hustled toward the line of people waiting. There weren’t many people, and with two carriages, the wait shouldn’t be too long. Two blocks in the heart of Maple Springs had been closed off to cars and the area was packed with people. He thought about what Cat had said and wondered how many of them had purchased anything this night. Looking around, he spotted only a few people with shopping bags.
A group of carolers in Victorian-period costumes stood in the center of an intersection. A basket for donations to help a local charity was strategically placed in front like a scene from a Dickens novel.
Simon stopped to toss in a five-dollar bill. “How’s Opal?”
Cat adjusted the pink cap so he could see the baby’s face.
His holiday princess looked back at him and cooed. Smiling.
Compared to scaling mountains, traipsing through rain forests and diamond mines, becoming a parent might be considered the biggest adventure of his life. He’d traveled part of that road before with his younger siblings. Not only did he find it not to his liking, but it had been a source of constant stress and tension. They’d resented his intervention, cursing his attempts to help steer them down a correct path.
Cat had said that a strong family took commitment. He’d been committed to giving his brother and sister something better than what he’d had, but they’d bucked him at every turn.
“Come on.” Cat reached for his hand.
He chuckled. “Where to?”
“I see hot chocolate.” She pulled him farther down the street, away from the carriage-ride line. “It’ll keep us warm while we wait.”
He looked back and nearly bumped into her when she stopped.
“Never mind. Maybe we should get in the carriage line.”
“Hot chocolate sounds good.”
Cat backed up. “You go ahead. I’ll save us a spot in line.”
Struck by how fast she’d changed her mind, Simon nodded. “Very well, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
He approached the table with two people handing out hot chocolate. Stepping up, Simon reached for two cups and saw a face that looked familiar.
“Mini marshmallows?” The woman offered some on a spoon.
“Definitely.” He held out both cups of steaming hot chocolate, trying to place where he’d seen her before.
As he walked away, it dawned on him where he’d met the woman. Last week, at the tree lighting, she’d talked to Cat and for some reason that brief contact had knocked Cat off-kilter. Was this woman the reason Cat had changed her tune about getting hot chocolate? He’d wondered why she’d stopped so abruptly.
Scanning the crowd for her, he spotted a red fuzzy hat in the carriage-ride line. Cat chatted with someone, looking perfectly at ease. Perhaps he’d read too much into her reaction.
Cat caught his gaze and waved. Smiling a little too broadly, deflecting yet again.
Zach had mentioned she’d had a rough time of it growing up, so it seemed that Cat had a story to tell. Simon had one too. His had been a rough childhood, fraught with dysfunction. He knew her home life hadn’t been the problem. Something else must have happened. What would it take for her to trust him enough to tell? Perhaps if he let down his guard, she would let down hers.
When he caught up to her, he handed her a cup of hot chocolate, hoping to open the topic. He asked a question he already knew the answer to. “Was that the same woman I met at the tree lighting?”
“Who?” Cat took a sip and then a larger drink. The hot chocolate wasn’t that hot.
“The lady at the hot-chocolate stand. I can’t remember her name.”
She looked that way, as if trying to figure out who he meant, and shrugged. “Can’t really tell who it is from here.”
More deflection, but before he could remark on it, their turn for the carriage ride had come. As people climbed down, the team of large horses shook their heads, making the bells on their reins jingle and ring.
“Just like the song, you know, ‘Jingle Bells.’” Cat grinned and took a quick picture.
“I got it.” He jumped up and then offered Cat his free hand.
She took it and climbed aboard. Neither of them spilled a drop of their lukewarm hot chocolate.
He sat down and Cat squeezed in next to him so another couple could share their bench seat. Two more couples sat across from them. This wasn’t so much a romantic carriage ride as a group wagon ride, but at least they were given a blanket for their laps. At this close proximity, they’d stay nice and warm.
Opal chose that moment to make her presence known with a mewling whimper.
“Sorry, baby.” Cat shifted.
Simon shifted too and draped his arm around the back of the seat. His gloved fingers ran into another’s. The guy at the other end of the bench had the same idea. “Sorry.”
The guy gave him a nod.
Simon adjusted his hand to rest on Cat’s shoulder and, as if on impulse, he pulled her closer, against his ribs.
She looked up, wide-eyed.
“To make more room.” He felt like he had to explain.
This close, he caught the scent of her hot chocolate as she took another sip. At the same moment, the carriage jerked forward, splashing the dark liquid across the top of her lip and end of her nose. She managed to lick her upper lip but didn’t realize a spot remained on her nose.
He couldn’t reach it with his free hand and didn’t want to attempt brushing it off with his other hand, holding his own cup of hot chocolate. It wasn’t hot, but he didn’t want to risk splashing Opal. So he leaned down and rubbed his nose against hers.
She jerked back. “What are you doing?”
He chuckled. “You have hot chocolate on the end of your nose.”
She rubbed it with her mittened hand, sm
earing hot chocolate foam across her cheek.
“You didn’t get it all.” He leaned in again, brushing her cheek with his lips.
“Wait...” She turned her head and their lips met and held.
He wasn’t about to really kiss Cat on this crowded carriage ride, but he didn’t want to move away from her either. He looked into her startled eyes and smiled against her soft, hot-chocolate-sweetened lips. “You taste pretty good.”
She surprised him by smiling back against his mouth. “You do too.”
Opal squealed, and Simon rolled his head back and laughed.
When the couple across from them launched into “Jingle Bells” at a rather loud volume, he had to admit there was nothing humdrum about this evening.
* * *
Later that night, as Cat settled Opal in the old Zelinsky crib, Cat’s mom knocked softly on the door.
“Come in.” Cat had changed into warm flannel pajamas and sat on the bed, ready to review the pictures she’d taken of the shoppers’ walk.
“Is she asleep?”
Cat nodded. “Fast and hard. Tonight was a lot of activity.”
Her mom joined her on the bed. “I saw you and Simon on the carriage ride. It looked like you were having a ball singing your hearts out.”
Cat smiled, remembering the feel of Simon’s arm around her, the light pressure of his lips on hers. “It was great.”
“You two seem to be getting along well.”
“Yeah.” Maybe too well. Cat’s feelings were a mixed bag of hopeful expectations and looming disappointments when it came to Simon.
“Sue Jensen was there. Did you talk to her?”
Cat glanced at her feet. The red polish on her toes was chipped. It had been ages since she’d given herself a good pedicure. “No.”
“Oh, Cat, you shouldn’t be afraid of Sue. I think talking with her might help bring some closure.”
Cat didn’t think so. Why relive the past any more than she had to, which was practically every day as it was. “I’ve gotten tons of closure. Nothing can change what happened.”
Her mom patted her hand. “No, but maybe you’ll see that God can change how you look at it.”
Cat still believed God might yet punish her somehow—balance the scales by visiting harm on her in exchange for the harm she’d done. Like waiting for a package that never came but she knew was out there somewhere with her name and address on it. That package would eventually find its way to her.