Caleb's Christmas Wish

by Debra Salonen

  “Before breakfast?” His tone implied that she was the stupidest person on the planet. Which, when it came to mothering, she probably was.

  “Good point. Sorry I mentioned it. Why don’t you pull up a chair? This won’t take long.”

  Was she blathering again? No doubt. Anything to avoid a repeat of the where’s-mommy question. Where’s Jake? That’s what she wanted to know. Let him divert and deflect scary questions. Let him make a parenting faux pas so obvious even a four-year-old caught it.

  “Can I have cereal instead?”

  She looked at the eggs sizzling in butter. What would Pam want her to do—give in or stick to her guns? Stick to her guns. Kenny was the pushover, not Pam. “Maybe for a snack later. You need protein. It’ll give you energy.”

  His skinny blond eyebrow lifted—in a manner identical to his father. Allison’s throat tightened as she turned to the refrigerator, cutting off the question she knew was coming. “Juice or milk?”

  “Milk.”

  “Smart choice.” She poured a glass. Too full, she realized and had to surreptitiously slurp off the excess. The cold beverage instantly curdled when it met the acid in her stomach.

  Pivoting, she placed the glass in front of Caleb who eyed it suspiciously. He didn’t reach for it.

  The clack of the toast popping up provided another diversion. She buttered the golden square and placed it whole on the waiting plate, but Caleb made a squawking sound. “You gotta cut it in angels.”

  “Angels?” Allison stared at the bread. Was she going to fail another test? How did one make angels out of toast?

  Caleb rose up on his knees and reached across the counter for the knife she’d used. With two fairly smooth passes he managed to cut the bread diagonally from corner to corner. The result was four small triangles.

  “Oh, angles,” she said, with a sigh of relief. This was short-lived when she realized she’d probably overcooked his eggs.

  She quickly slid the white-capped domes on his plate. “Bon appétit.”

  “You talk funny.”

  If Pam were here, she’d probably have retorted, “Oh, yeah, well you smell funny.” That kind of nonsense had kept their friendship alive through distance, separation, silly spats, respective marriages, Allison’s divorce and Pam’s pregnancy.

  And now that rare bond would be gone from Ally’s life forever. She didn’t know what she was going to do without her best friend.

  Chapter 3

  Jake decided he hated electronic maps. And Fresno. And lawyers. Not necessarily in that order.

  He’d arrived at the Fresno-Yosemite International Airport ahead of schedule, but the time he’d saved in flight had been eaten up by the inept agent at the car rental office. Then, following the directions Jake had printed from his computer, he managed to become resoundingly lost.

  A bright green road sign announced that he’d arrived in the town of Coarsegold. “Damn,” he muttered, pulling to a stop across the street from a row of buildings that looked like a façade of an old west town from the movies. “I’ve come too far.”

  Not that his map told him this. But he remembered Kenny mentioning that Coarsegold was the closest hamlet to his subdivision. The name was so odd that Jake had asked about it. “It’s named after the kind of gold that was found here in the 1850s,” Kenny had said. “It was a booming place at one time.”

  Jake rolled down his window and took a deep breath. The air was brisk. Vastly different from the warm humidity he’d left behind. He thought about turning around and trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong, but his growling stomach made him pick up his cell phone, instead.

  He punched in the Rydells’ home number.

  A busy signal.

  Jake’s stomach made another noise, but he knew the difference between hunger and worry. The acid in his belly had been churning like crazy ever since talking to Kenny’s lawyer, whose name had suddenly come to him while in flight somewhere over Texas.

  Jake had reached him by phone while waiting for his rental car.

  “Mr. Fenniman, this is Jake Westin. I’m a friend of Kenny Rydell’s. We did a little business a couple of years ago. I just got to town."

  Fenniman hadn’t heard about the accident. He was full of sympathy when Jake told him. He agreed to go to his office and look at Kenny’s will to see whether the couple had left instructions for their funeral.

  “I seem to recall that you and another person—a friend of Pam’s, I believe—were named as the child’s guardians. Or was the grandmother the legal guardian and you two were the co-executors of the will? I’m sorry I can’t remember the specifics, but I will check on it right away.”

  Jake knew he wasn’t going to be able to breathe easily until he learned that his godson wasn’t in some kind of legal limbo. With Cordelia in the hospital, they might run into some overeager social worker who could recommend the orphaned child become a ward of the state.

  And Jake wasn’t about to let that happen. Neither did he plan to let Allison have the final say. If she thought that her sex automatically meant she would make the better parent, she was in for a surprise. Jake was prepared to do battle.

  He watched a steady stream of cars and vacation vehicles rumble past. “One more try,” he muttered.

  The call went through.

  “Hello.” In the background a loud crashing sound made him sit up and look around, as if he could see what had happened.

  “Wait, Caleb. I’ll help you,” he heard a woman say.

  “Allison? Is everything okay?”

  After a muffled pause—he imagined the phone being pressed to her chest—she was back on the line. “Are you here?” she asked.

  “Close. I think I missed a turn.”

  “That happens to everybody the first time. Are you in Coarsegold?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, don’t give up. I’ll talk you through this.”

  Jake followed her instructions, switching to hands free so he could stay on the line as he drove. “What was the crash I heard?”

  “Caleb was helping me clean up after breakfast.”

  “Don’t you mean lunch?”

  Allison’s small chuckle made him wish he could picture her better. None of the photos he’d looked at after her call last night had given him much to go on. Tall, willowy, short auburn hair. Thick glasses. Never as stylish as Pam. But then, few women dressed with as much flair as Pam Rydell.

  “No. I mean breakfast. The kid slept fourteen hours. I was searching for a stethoscope to check his heart when he finally got up.”

  Jake smiled for the first time since her call last night. “He did that one day last summer when we were in Orlando. Pam called it catch-up sleep.”

  “That’s what the nurse in his pediatrician’s office said, too, when I called.” Her tone held a quiver of chagrin, as if she were embarrassed to admit that she’d consulted a professional for something so trivial.

  “You should be coming up to a sign on your right that says Yosemite Lakes Park,” she said. “Turn in and stay on that road through two stop signs. At the next intersection, pull over and wait. Caleb and I will walk down and find you.”

  “That seems like a waste of effort. Why don’t you just tell me which streets to take?”

  “Because I don’t know their names, and if you make a hard left instead of a soft left, you’ll wind up in the lake.”

  He closed his eyes and stifled a groan. She must have sensed it because she said a tad defensively, “This isn’t my home, you know.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “I’m hanging up now. We’ll be there in a minute.” Frustration combined with hunger and lack of sleep made him ready to snap, but he couldn’t let his emotions take over. He remembered all too well what it was like to live in a place where angry voices were the norm.

  As he drove, Jake looked around with interest. Kenny and Pam had spoken highly of the place. Jake had always planned to visit, but had somehow never found the time. Or so he told himse
lf. He and Kenny both knew the real reason for Jake’s reticence to return to his home state. Memories. Bad ones. It was easier to meet his friends on neutral turf. Fun places, like Disney World, the Kennedy Space Center and Key West.

  The size and magnitude of the planned community surprised him. Yosemite Lakes Park had its own supermarket, stable and service station. He passed at least two churches. Road signs warned him to be on the lookout for equestrians. Off to one side was a golf and tennis club. And ahead he spotted a small, almost dry pond surrounded by thick clumps of cattails—some shedding their fluffy white seeds.

  At the crossroad, Jake pulled to one side and shifted to Park. Fortunately, there wasn't any traffic, but he wasn’t a patient man. He was just about to put the car in gear and go in search of his godson when a knock on the passenger side took him by surprise. He pushed the power lever to open the window so he could get a better look at the two faces staring at him.

  “Jake, Jake, Jake,” Caleb cried, squirming in the arms of the woman who’d lifted him to see. “We found you, Jake. Me ’n Ally.”

  “Ally,” he repeated. The nickname changed her somehow.

  The woman in question put her hand in the window and said, “Hello, Jake. I’m Allison Jeffries. It’s good to finally meet you, although, of course, I wish it were under different circumstances.”

  Jake could only see her from the waist up. She was dressed casually in a gray, hooded sweatshirt and fleece vest. He shook her hand. “Me, too.”

  Caleb used the opportunity to lever himself through the window. Jake could see Allison struggling to keep her balance. “Hey, bud, wait a second and let me open the door so you don’t hurt…

  Too late. The little guy wiggled free and tumbled butt over head into the bucket seat. Seconds later a small projectile flung against him with the force of a rogue wave.

  “Whoa, kiddo, let’s not kill...” He swallowed. “Crush your old buddy.”

  “Did you bring me something, Jake?”

  “As a matter of fact I did, but first I get a big hug, right?”

  Caleb obliged. His little arms squeezed Jake’s neck so hard the pressure triggered tears that had been threatening all morning. Feeling embarrassed, he glanced at the woman who was watching. Her eyes were dewy, too. Her very pretty eyes, he noticed—despite the dark circles. Where are her glasses?

  Before he could ask, she opened the door and picked up the map, cell phone and brief case on the seat. She glanced at him as if to ask permission to join them. “The house is just up the hill and around the bend.”

  He nodded. “Hop in.”

  Before she sat down, he hefted Caleb over the seat into the tiny cavern the car manufacturer euphemistically called a back seat. “Stay put, squirt.” Then he glanced sideways and said, “Seems weird that we’ve never met. I thought you wore glasses.”

  She touched her fingers to her gracefully curved cheekbone. Her skin was pink from the chilly breeze. Jake pushed the button on the armrest to roll up the passenger window.

  “I had eye surgery. My gift to myself last Christmas.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Definitely. In my business, I’m always under desks looking up. The dust made it impossible to wear contacts and my glasses were always getting scratched or broken. I raved about the end result so much, Kenny was thinking about getting it. He said...” Her voice trailed off.

  Jake glanced in the rearview mirror. In a hushed voice, he asked, “Have you told—?”

  She answered him with a vehement shake of her head. “I thought that was something we should do together. Besides, I ...well, I couldn’t.”

  “You didn’t bring your neat car, Jake,” Caleb said, flopping over the seat. “I like it better.”

  Jake tousled the child’s soft blond locks. His hair had grown a lot since they were together in August. Caleb looked an inch or two taller, too. Still a little boy, but less a toddler. “Sorry, pal. The airlines wouldn’t let it through security. But do you know what’s cool about this car?”

  Caleb shook his head.

  “Four-year-olds can drive it.”

  “Really?” The little boy’s eyes went round. He glanced at Allison for confirmation.

  “No,” she said with a high-pitched croak. “He’s kidding, Caleb.”

  Jake watched Caleb’s expression go from joy to pouting “Hey. Loosen up a bit. I know what I’m doing.” Jake regretted his words the moment he saw the serious frown on her face. Surely she didn’t honestly believe he’d let a kid drive, did she? Or was her reaction tied to Pam and Kenny’s accident?

  Suddenly Jake felt like a heel. What had started out as an impulse to give his godson a little pleasure had turned into a skirmish that had made him look stupid.

  Swallowing his pride, he turned to look at his godson and said, “How ’bout a rain check, buddy? We can show Allison what a great driver you are another time. I’m so hungry, my stomach’s ready to cave in. Okay?”

  “O...kay,” he said, drawing out the word. The shoulders of his hooded fleece jacket rose and fell with an exaggerated shrug, but despite the show of being a good sport, he was obviously disappointed. And Jake could tell by the scowl he sent Allison that he blamed her for his missing out on a special treat.

  Jake felt badly about that since this little fracas was his fault. The last thing he wanted was to let Caleb think he could play one adult against the other. And Jake couldn’t expect a complete stranger to understand he’d never do anything that would endanger his godson. A quick glance to his right revealed another scowl, albeit a lovely one. She was far prettier than he’d expected. But the look in her eyes told him they were on different wavelengths when it came to making decisions regarding Caleb.

  “Sit down, kiddo,” he said, tweaking his godson’s nose. “And, um, put on your seat belt,” he added, hoping Allison would give him points for being safety-conscious.

  The arch in her eyebrow indicated she’d seen through his lame effort completely, but she made a show of complying as well. Jake wasn’t certain, but he thought he caught a glimpse of a smile just before she looked down to snap the belt in place.

  Five minutes later, they were parked in front of a house Jake had seen only in photos. He looked around, unprepared for the sudden, immobilizing sadness that swamped him. Kenny should have been standing at his side. Waiting to welcome his closest friend into his home.

  Caleb hopped out of the car when Allison reached across the seat to unlock the door. Her arm brushed Jake’s shoulder, shaking him out of his melancholy thoughts. He got out, too, and was immediately engulfed in a thigh-high hug. “Come see my room, Jake.”

  Jake’s heart melted in his chest. “Let me grab my bags, kiddo,” he said, barely managing to get the words out.

  Together, they unlocked the trunk. “Where is my present?”

  Jake realized Allison was standing beside them—apparently waiting to help. He saw her frown, no doubt appalled by Caleb’s lack of manners. But Jake was to blame for this breach of etiquette, too. Since Jake saw his godson so seldom, he tended to spoil the little boy.

  Instead of making excuses, he focused on Caleb, letting him carry the lightest bag—a carry-on that held the gifts Jake had purchased at the airport. Jake handled the rest of the luggage himself, letting Allison close the trunk and lead the way into the house.

  Jake spent almost half an hour playing with his godson. Then, leaving Caleb with his new toys, he returned to the kitchen-cum-family room, where he found Allison sitting in front of a computer at a built-in desk.

  “I made you a sandwich,” she said glancing over her shoulder as he stepped into the open, spacious room. “Leftover turkey.”

  The way she dropped the last word made him realize the meat was from the last holiday dinner she’d shared with their friends. He was too hungry to pass it up. “Thanks. I’m famished.”

  The plate, covered with a sage-green cloth napkin, sat on the counter beside a glass of milk and a bag of potato chips—the kind that went
in lunch boxes. A designated eating area was marked by three padded stools, each different. A captain’s chair with padded arms and a back. A stool topped with a tufted pad in some springy print fabric. And a similar stool wearing a plastic cover that resembled a shower cap.

  “Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear,” he said, drawing out the largest of the three.

  “Pardon?” Allison said, looking up from whatever it was she was working on. He found it hard to believe that she could concentrate on work at a time like this, but he kept his opinion to himself.

  “Oh, nothing. Just muttering to myself.”

  She gave a puzzled half smile and returned to her task.

  Jake folded the napkin in his lap and picked up the sandwich. Firm, sourdough bread, slightly toasted. Leafy lettuce stuck out around the edges. A good inch and a half of meat. He bit down and closed his eyes with pleasure. As he chewed, a tangy flavor caught his attention. “Umm, good,” he said, washing it down with a gulp of milk. “Different.”

  “In my family, we always make our leftover turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce and mayo,” she said without turning around.

  Fabulous, he thought, but he was too busy devouring it to say so.

  A few minutes later, Allison closed off the screen she’d been reading—it was too far away for Jake to make out, pushed the keyboard back into its compartment and stood up. In a long-sleeve, hunter-green T-shirt tucked in the waistband of her snug jeans and a pair of black sneakers, she looked years younger than her age.

  “There’s fresh coffee in the pot,” she said picking up the mug beside the workstation. “Would you like a cup?”

  “Please,” he said, wiping the corners of his mouth. She walked to the counter and filled a large navy blue Rydell Motors mug. “Black?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  As she set it down on the marble counter in front of him, her head cocked to one side, obviously listening to an unusual sound coming from deep in the bowels of the house. “Is that gunfire?”

  Jake winced. “Mea culpa," he said, shoveling chips into his mouth. He chewed fast. “I know. I know. Totally un-politically correct, but I was in a hurry. The box said ages four and up. Nowhere did it say ‘Makes annoying sound that will drive adults mad.’”