by Jenna Mindel
He still wanted to leave come the first of the year, travel to Africa for tourmaline and rubies in Mozambique, but at the same time he wanted to come back. He wanted to return to Cat and Opal if they’d have him.
Simon dropped onto the couch and ran his hands through his hair, staring into the flames. Could they make this work?
“Simon?”
He looked into Cat’s concerned eyes. How long had he been sitting there? “Yes?”
“Come see Opal.”
He got up and followed Cat down the short hall. She pushed open the door for him, so he entered the room. The nursery. The curtains had been drawn to dim the late-afternoon light.
Peeking into the crib, he saw that Opal lay wrapped in a blanket. His little princess had her eyes closed. Her silky hair stuck out from under her sleep cap, giving her a cherubic quality. His heart twisted painfully in his chest.
This was his daughter.
“She loves the crib.”
Simon nodded, but the room seemed to be closing in on him. He needed some space. Some air. “I’m going to run to the store and grab dinner. Anything you might like?”
Cat blinked her eyes. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on staying, but now that Opal’s sleeping, I guess we’re not going anywhere. Whatever you get is fine.”
Simon touched her arm, knowing that it’d be worse returning to an empty house after seeing his daughter snuggled into her own crib. “Stay. I won’t be long.”
“Okay.”
Simon slipped into his coat and exited the door. The blast of cold air did little to unravel the hot ball of twining turmoil in his gut. After all those years, the pain of his family’s rejection still stung.
His mother had betrayed him countless times, but kicking him out had been the last straw, so he’d left without looking back. Until his mother had been arrested and he’d tried to do right by his sister and brother, but it had been too late. The damage had been done. He’d been out of their lives for several years and had lost all credibility with them. He’d abandoned them after all, something they’d never forgotten or forgiven.
Opal might only be a baby, but would leaving her wreak similar havoc?
He climbed into his Jeep and headed to the local grocery store. Each street he turned onto had holiday lights glowing from inside homes, on porches and trees. Christmas trees placed in front windows gleamed with sparkling light. This was what normal people did. They put up Christmas trees that looked nice. Not the fake snow-coated little tree his mother used to stick on the table, when she bothered to notice it was Christmas.
The snow picked up and huge flakes drifted from the sky to swirl and stick to his windshield. Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, he had no idea what he wanted for dinner. Coming here had only been an excuse.
A section of the lot had been squared off with strings of big white bulbs. The Maple Springs Chapter of Boy Scouts were selling Christmas trees. As if invisible strings drew him, Simon walked toward them. This year he wanted Christmas to be real and something special.
Chapter Eleven
Cat sat in the new rocking chair in the nursery and watched Opal sleep. What had made Simon jump like a scared jackrabbit? So scared that he’d bolted for the door. She didn’t buy the dinner excuse. There was plenty of vegetable beef soup left, unless he hadn’t cared for it as much as he’d let on.
Cat heard the door open.
Simon.
She heard a scratching noise against the wall as if he were moving something large. Now what was he doing? After checking on Opal, still sleeping, Cat exited the room. “Simon?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him wrestling with a large Christmas tree. He managed to slide it into an equally large tree stand, but the whole thing leaned to the left. She might as well be butter in a pan, because she’d just melted.
“A little early for a tree.” It wasn’t, but Cat didn’t know what else to say.
Simon gave her a lopsided grin. “Seemed like the thing to do.”
Cat let loose something that sounded like a giggle. She hadn’t giggled since... It had been a long time. Once she collected herself, she hurried to help. Crouching down at the base of the tree, she looked over the stand. “I don’t think the trunk is in all the way.”
“This isn’t exactly my forte. In fact, I’ve never purchased a Christmas tree before this one.”
A sad thing to admit. Cat loosened the screws and then looked up. “Go ahead and push it down if you can.”
He did so with a resounding grunt. “There.”
She turned the screws until they tightened into the bark. “Do you recall if they made a fresh cut?”
“They did, yes.”
Looking at the lush Christmas tree, Cat sighed. “Oh, Simon, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”
“Grocery store parking lot.”
The fresh smell of balsam filled the room and the needles were soft to her touch. She wished he’d taken her with him to pick it out, but then that was something couples did. Real families too. They were neither.
Reminded of his comment about the mess of a Christmas tree, Cat blurted out, “What made you buy one?”
He stared at her, as if mulling over the question and searching for a reason. “I thought you might like one.”
Her eyes suddenly watered, making her blink. He’d done so much with the nursery and now this.
Simon gave her a soft smile. “Now, don’t go crying on me.”
Feeling silly, she rolled her eyes and laughed. “I’m not. It’s just—”
“Just what?” His voice couldn’t sound silkier.
She shook her head. She didn’t deserve all this, not after keeping Opal secret from him.
His gaze intensified. “Meeting you did something to me. I never forgot you, and now with Opal—”
“What?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know what.” He looked as if he shook it off, then gestured toward the tree. “Where should we put that?”
Cat wasn’t going to push him into admitting that they might have something special between them. He had to decide for himself if they had something worth working for—worth coming back for. “Maybe in the corner farthest from the fireplace.”
“Good place.” He hefted the tree again and set it down.
Cat breathed in fresh pine. “That’s perfect. I’ll get some water and then tomorrow I’ll pick up some lights and decorations—”
He held up his hands, sheathed in leather gloves. “Hang on, I bought some, along with dinner. The bags are in the car.”
This was what having her own family would be like. Cat had never wanted a family of her own before. Never thought she’d have a husband, because with one came kids and kids had never been a possibility for her while she lived with such a horrible mistake. Knowing the grief that came with terrible loss had been a strong deterrent to deep relationships, but right now she wanted one. She wanted it all, with Simon.
She watched him leave, her thoughts awhirl.
He’d experienced his share of pain. Loss. He might understand her. He certainly knew what she liked. He’d bought her a Christmas tree! A real one that would make a mess dropping needles on the floor. This was something. Something big.
Tamping down the flutters that stirred inside her, she fetched a pitcher from the cupboard in the kitchen and filled it with lukewarm water.
She heard Simon stamp the snow off his feet in the other room. He entered the kitchen with a few grocery bags that he placed on the table. “The snow is coming down pretty heavily.”
Cat peeked out the kitchen window and saw nothing but a blur of white. “That doesn’t look good.”
“Visibility was horrible even through town. You should call your mom and let her know you’re staying here.”
Cat’s belly flipped. Stayin
g seemed like a bad idea, but she didn’t like the idea of driving with Opal in this weather. “It might clear up.”
“We’ll see.” From one grocery bag, he pulled out two thick submarine-styled sandwiches. “To go with the soup.”
So he did like it.
For now, she wasn’t going anywhere and neither was he. “I’ll get the bowls.”
* * *
Simon brought his soup bowl to the sink while Cat loaded the dishwasher. The tree had been a good move, bringing them closer together. She filled his house with something he’d never had before and it wasn’t simply the aroma of homemade soup. This was something he hadn’t known could exist. This felt terribly close to contentment.
He heard Opal fuss from the other room, a cranky sound.
Cat leaned for the dish towel and wiped her hands.
“I’ll get her.”
“Thanks.”
Simon headed for the nursery. Stepping into the spare bedroom, he took it all in. From the cheerful lion-print linens to a long-necked giraffe decal on the wall. All reminiscent of Africa. Not the highlands where they’d met, but the plains and grasslands in Kenya that had been the main subject of the article she’d written. The only one he’d ever read of hers.
“Hello, Princess.”
She mewed, her face flushed red from crying.
He unwrapped Opal from her swaddling blanket and picked her up. Her diaper crunched together as if she might be wet, so he changed her like Cat had showed him.
Using the new changing table made things easy with everything within reach. After tapping Opal’s nose and tickling her belly, Simon snapped her long cotton bottoms closed and then picked her up. He also grabbed a thick quilt they could spread on the floor in the living room.
The baby kicked her legs when she spotted Cat.
Cat was checking out the bag of Christmas ornaments he’d purchased. “Hi, Opal, do you want to play on the floor?”
Simon loved the sound his daughter made when she cooed, but then she squealed when he handed her over to Cat.
“I changed her.” He spread the quilt on the floor.
“Great, thanks.” After laying Opal on her belly, Cat returned to the bag of boxed ornaments. “Let’s see what you bought for the tree.”
He stretched out on the floor near the baby. He hadn’t known what Cat might like, so he’d picked out basic red glittery balls and white lights. A bunch of small red velvet bows, since she seemed to like those when they’d hung garland at his shop. “Simple stuff.”
She smiled at him. “Perfect stuff. Do you have plain popcorn?”
He nodded, feeling like he’d slayed some dragon for her and had returned with its treasure. “I think I still have a bag in the cupboard. Why?”
“We can string popcorn for the tree.” He heard the sound of cupboard doors being opened and closed. “Found it.”
“We?”
She peeked her head around the corner from the kitchen, bag of popcorn in hand. “You and me.”
“I’m starting to like the sound of you and me.” It had been two weeks since first seeing Cat at church. His life had been turned upside down and then oddly righted.
Tonight felt incredibly right.
She smiled back, surprised. “Me too.”
He tickled under Opal’s chin. The baby lifted her head a little, wobbled and rolled to her side. Simon righted her and she kicked her legs as if swimming. “She’s changed in these last couple of weeks. She’s more aware or something.”
“She’s growing fast.”
Opal started to fuss, uttering a sharp cry of discontent.
“Come on now, Princess.” Simon picked her up and headed for the rocker, pulling it closer to the fireplace.
The baby quieted as he rocked back and forth, watching Cat open the strings of lights.
Cat tipped her head, thinking about something.
He stared back. “What is it?”
“I was just wondering. Maybe you should let your sister or brother know you’re here, living in Northern Michigan.”
It hadn’t even occurred to him to let them know that he was living stateside again. Another failure. “I can’t imagine it making a bit of difference to them.”
“What’s your sister’s name?” Cat plugged in a set of lights and they shimmered a soft golden white.
“Margo.”
Cat reached for Opal. The baby had stuck her whole fist in her mouth. “And your brother?”
“Barry.”
Lifting the baby from his arms, Cat whispered, “It’s Christmas, Simon. Maybe you should reach out to them and see what happens.”
That very thing had been heavy on his mind lately. Especially after finding God. It seemed as though the Lord would want him to seek them out, but he’d held back.
He searched Cat’s face and lingered on her eyes. They’d spent a lot of time together these past two weeks, but did they know enough about each other? “Perhaps.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll feed her and be right back.”
Simon watched Cat walk away. Opal was their connection, but would she be enough to keep them together?
* * *
Cat fed the baby in the nursery while Simon popped popcorn. She could hear the corn popping and so could Opal. The baby kept turning her head toward the noise, distracted from eating, as if she didn’t really want to nurse.
“You okay, baby?” Cat caressed her cheek. “Getting used to a new place?”
Cat was in the same boat as her daughter, looking at things with new eyes. New feelings too. The past couple of days with Simon had been so good, maybe too good. She needed to bring up two subjects she’d rather not talk about—his plans to leave and her past.
Opal squirmed and Cat knew she was done. “Come on, let’s go decorate the tree.”
Walking toward the living room, she heard Christmas music.
Simon threw another log on the fire and looked up as she entered.
“Nice touch.” Cat nodded toward the stylish radio where the soft instrumental song of “Jingle Bells” played.
“I thought so.”
“You thought right.” Cat settled Opal in the swing.
A large bowl of plain popcorn had been placed on the coffee table, waiting to be strung. Suddenly antsy to see the tree decorated, she didn’t care to take the time to string that popcorn now. “Why don’t we add the popcorn later? It takes a while to make garland.”
“We’ve got plenty of time and nowhere to go.” Simon looked outside. “Did you call your mom?”
“Yes. She said the roads were bad.”
“Then stay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Cat chewed her lip but nodded. This might be interesting.
“I need to grab some more wood. Be back in a minute.” Simon caressed Opal’s cheek on the way out, as he always did.
Cat emptied the rest of the grocery bag. He’d purchased three boxes of one-hundred-count lights. Glancing at the fat tree, Cat thought it’d be sparse coverage. Simon would never be accused of excess. He was a measured man. Guarded. Rarely putting anything on display, physically or emotionally. He kept his past locked up nearly as tight as hers, rarely talking about it.
After connecting each set of lights, Cat plugged them in and started swirling them into the top branches of the tree with the help of one of the dining room chairs. The first strand was nearly done by the time Simon entered with a canvas bag full of logs.
“It looks nice already.”
“I think so.” Cat got down from the chair and wove the second strand around the tree.
He stood next to her. “I should have purchased another string of lights.”
More like three, but she wasn’t saying it. Back up on the chair, Cat rearranged the lights to cover more. “I can make these work.”
&
nbsp; Simon helped her space them out.
She reached for one of the back branches and the chair wobbled.
“Easy.” Simon grabbed her waist. “Here, let me do that.”
“I’ve got it.” She looped the lights a little lower. “There.”
As she prepared to climb down, Cat’s breath caught when Simon scooped her up in his arms. She gripped his shoulders. “Warn me when you’re going to do that.”
He loosened his hold enough for her to slide down until her feet touched the floor, but he didn’t let go. His hands rested on her hips as he searched her eyes. “Kiss me, Catherine.”
Cat glanced at his mouth for a split second. “We shouldn’t.”
“Yes, we should.” He lowered his lips to hers, gently at first and then with more pressure until she responded.
Wrapping her arms around Simon’s neck, Cat returned his kiss with enthusiasm. It felt like she’d finally come home to a place where she wanted to stay. For good.
Pulling back, she needed to tell him everything, find out how he’d take it and go from there. Cat braced her hands against Simon’s chest. “Simon, listen, I need to tell you—”
“Later, Cat. Talk later.” He kissed her again.
Only to be interrupted when Opal let out an ear-splitting cry.
* * *
Simon woke up to the thundering sound of a plow truck scraping the road out in front of his house. He sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes.
Cat—
She’d slept in Opal’s room on cushions pulled from the couch and extra blankets. The baby had fussed quite a bit while they’d decorated the tree and throughout the night. He’d heard her cry a few times in the wee hours too, but it was quiet now. Very quiet.
He checked the time on the clock near his bed. Eight o’clock. He got up and threw on a sweatshirt. Stopping outside the door to Opal’s room, he listened. All quiet in there. Had they left? He padded toward the kitchen and spotted Cat’s purse on the table. No. They were still here.