A CHRISTMAS COLLECTION

by Wilton, Patrice

  “That’s something your mom doesn’t do. At least not anymore. It doesn’t come out of a can, but is made with all fresh ingredients, like a chicken, and vegetables, and noodles.” Jennie shook her head. “Takes a lot of time compared to opening a can. But it’s very healthy and good.”

  “Will I like it?” Katie asked.

  Nana heard the remark. “You will love it. It’s Papa’s favorite too. And I have a loaf of fresh whole grain bread, and cookies or mincemeat tarts for dessert.”

  “Sounds wonderful, Mom.” Jennie kissed her mother’s cheek. “What can I do to help?”

  “Set the table and put the girl’s milk on the table.” She looked at her grandchildren. “Have you washed your hands?” she asked.

  “Yup,” Brooke said, smiling. “This morning after I ate blueberry pancakes and whipping cream.”

  “In that case it’s time for you to do it again.”

  The girls ran off to wash up, and Jennie poured the milk and sliced the bread.

  “So how was the carriage ride through the park last night,” her mother asked quietly, shooting a glance at her husband reading in his chair.

  “Magical.” Jennie paused and looked at her mom, her insides warm as she remembered the feel of Nick’s arm around her shoulders. “That’s the only word to describe it.”

  “I like magical,” Louise said. “So did anything nice happen during the ride?”

  “Nice?” Jennie bristled, upset with herself for being disappointed. “Like how? Everything was wonderful. He’s a nice guy, who has no interest in a ready-made family. He’s renovating his grandparent’s home to get ready for sale, and just bought this business a couple of years ago. He’s not looking for a relationship, Mom, if that’s what you’re hoping to hear.” How she wished it was different.

  “It is, and you might be wrong.” Her mom slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a quick hug. “I saw the way he looked at you. And that man is interested, or I need glasses.”

  “You might need cataract surgery, not glasses,” Jennie said with a chuckle. “He’s a man. Men look. They sometimes get tempted even when they know it’s not good for them.”

  “And you? Were you tempted?”

  “A little.” She glanced around, looking for something else to do. Something that didn’t require this line of questioning or meeting her mother’s eyes, head on.

  “Just a little?”

  “He kissed me, okay?” She tossed some napkins on the table and grabbed a large ladle to dish out the soup. “No big deal.”

  Her mother brushed up beside her and forced Jennie to look her way. “You kissed him? How was it?”

  “I didn’t say that. It was the other way around. And it was okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Okay—a little better than okay.”

  Her mom beamed. “I’m so glad. I like him, and he likes the children too.”

  “What are you two whispering about in there?” Her dad got up and opened the fridge door. “I hope you’re minding your own business, Louise. Jennie’s a grown up woman now, and she doesn’t need to tell you everything.”

  “Jennie’s my daughter, and will be until the day I die,” her mom huffed. “So yes, she does.”

  Her dad poured himself a sweetened ice tea and sat at his usual spot, the head of the kitchen table. He winked at Jennie, and she patted his frail shoulder.

  “You’re right, Dad. A woman my age needs to have some secrets. Not that I have any, or they’d be interesting if I did.”

  “Then it’s high time you made some,” her mom said, passing out the soup bowls.

  The girls took their seats, and because it was a special occasion to have family around, Katie said Grace, adding how thankful she was to be at Nana’s and Papa’s. That earned her hugs and smiles, and the discussion about Nick was put on hold.

  Funny thing was, even though they weren’t talking about him she wished he could be here. He would like her parents, and they already liked him. But it would be much too easy to let her emotions go. She was vulnerable right now, not having a man to hold her at night, someone to curl up with and talk to. It was lonely, and it might not go away anytime soon, but she couldn’t replace Daniel. Not yet.

  The soup and bread were delicious and even the girls lapped it up. Jennie removed the bowls and put the plate of cookies on the table. “So, Mom, Dad. It may take several months before our house sells, but I’d just like to get an idea of neighborhoods and pricing around here. Is there a real estate paper that I can look at, or Dad, would you like to go for a drive?”

  “Mommy? We’re supposed to make snowmen this afternoon.” Katie folded her arms and gave her a determined look. “We missed you, and want you to play with us.”

  “You’re right, sweetheart,” Jennie said, realizing that it was vacation. A holiday. Her plans for a new life would have to wait. “We can think about the move another time. After Christmas. Now is Santa time, and thinking about what he will bring my little girls, and spending time with Nana and Papa.”

  “And making snowmen,” Katie added firmly.

  Busted. She would have to go out in the cold with the kids, instead of sitting by the warmth of the fire. When had she gotten old? Only a year or two ago she’d have loved to frolic in the snow, tossing snowballs, chasing the girls, making angels and snowmen, and running inside for carrots for their nose. Life had been fun. But she knew the answer to her question. That had ended the day she heard Daniel’s helicopter had gone down.

  “Christy’s bringing the boys over in an hour.” Her mother offered Papa a mincemeat tart, knowing it was one of his favorite holiday treats. “They want to see the girls and I thought it would be nice for you and Christy to catch up too.”

  “Great, Mom. I’m glad they’re all coming. Is Matt joining us?”

  “I’m not sure. He might. He likes to sit and watch football with your dad.”

  “And drink my beer,” John mumbled good-naturedly. “Good thing they only live two miles away.” He glanced at Jennie. “That’s a mighty fine neighborhood.”

  When her sister’s family showed up, the girls and Jennie were already rolling in the snow, having snowball fights and seeing who could make the best angel.

  The boys piled out and ran toward the girls, jumping in the snow, and knocking Brooke down in the process. Jennie waited to see what happened and sighed with relief when her daughter squealed with delight.

  Christy jumped out of the new Lexus SUV, reached down for some snow and tossed a big fluffy snowball right at her. Jennie dodged the one in the face, and picked up her own ball and ran toward her sister. She tossed it just at the right time, and then the fight was on. Laughing they both grappled in the snow like they were children again, determined to outdo the other. Her sister was two years younger, but Jennie was feisty and didn’t like to lose. Especially in a snowball fight. The children got in the act, and soon it was a free-for-all.

  It ended when one of the kids got Matt—carrying in bags of presents—smack in the face.

  “That’s enough,” he snapped. “Boys. Help me unload the car.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Heads down Jed and Jake returned to the car and dragged out more bags filled with presents.

  The girls stopped to watch. “Look!” Brooke shouted, dancing around the boys. “Can I see? Is one for me?”

  “Naw,” Jake, the older boy said. “We didn’t get you anything.”

  Brooke’s face fell, and Jennie could see she was about to cry. “Don’t tease her. I’m sure there is more than one for each of my girls.”

  Before he could say anything, Christy grabbed one of the big bags out of Jake’s hands. “Why, I think I see one in here for Brooke, and another for Katie. But none for bad boys,” she added with a grin.

  “I’m good most of the time,” Jake answered, checking the name tags on the gifts.

  Her mom and dad had the front door open. “I swear, you boys are getting bigger every time I see you,” their Papa said, giving each b
oy a hug.

  “You always say that,” Jed said, kissing his Nana. “We just saw you last week.”

  “And you look like you’ve grown an inch since then too,” Louise said playing along. “Must be the Christmas cookies I sent home with you.”

  “Here, let us take those.” John took the bags out of their hands. When the last of the presents were inside, he directed the kids to the garage. They knew the routine. Once they hit the mudroom, they peeled off their boots and outer clothing before being allowed indoors.

  They came in, four little bodies, full of laughter, mischief, and fun. Jennie could see the happiness on her daughters’ faces, and stopped worrying about the boys teasing and rough play. The girls loved their big cousins, and were loved back. And when it came to family, that was all that mattered.

  Nick’s face flashed to mind. He would be alone for Christmas. And even with all her family around, so would she. If only there was someway they could be together without arousing her children’s or her mother’s hopes. Or her own.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Nick got his cooking done, then remembered his promise to Jennie about posting the Lost Dog flyers he’d printed out. He was surprised by his reluctance to do so—but he didn’t want to hand the mutt over to just anybody. Anybody but Jennie, that is.

  What if the dog did belong to somebody? After all, a pup like that didn’t just materialize out of the blue. He might not be a pedigree, but he looked to be part Dalmatian and was about as cute as puppies get. Truthfully, he half hoped that some passerby had dropped him off in Heaven because they couldn’t take care of the animal.

  It had occurred to him that if someone claimed Rasco, Jennie would have to find another pup for the girls, and he wouldn’t have an excuse to see her again. That could explain some of his reluctance, but why was he feeling so let down just because she uninvited him for Christmas? He didn’t blame her. Christmas was for loved ones and families, or charity cases. He was neither. He didn’t need a hand out or a meal, and he didn’t need to be taken in like some stray.

  Maybe he should invite Byron and Ally over to his place this year. They could have their own turkey dinner, and then enjoy some eggnog in front of the fire.

  That was a hellova an idea. And he should pick up a present for them too. Strolling down Main Street, he put up his flyers and glanced in store windows. What would a photographer like, he wondered. Buying her a camera seemed a little over the top, but maybe she’d like some real good quality frames. That was impersonal enough, but appropriate. Byron was always sprouting off poetry as if he thought he was the real deal. A book of poems seemed kind of lame. What would a young, randy man want for a present that he didn’t already have? A gag bag maybe, stuffed with poetry books and a box of condoms. That might get a few laughs.

  He was smiling now as he went into a little bookstore and found the small shelf of poetry. He had no idea what Byron already owned, and in a town like this his choice would be limited. Maybe he read with an ereader, and downloaded his books from the internet. Hell if he knew.

  He walked up to the middle-aged clerk, a man around fifty, with an equally big girth. “Hi. I’ve never been in your store before, I’m sorry to say. I’m Nick. Own the bistro up the street.”

  “Sure, I’ve seen you around. I’m Roger,” he offered his hand. “How can I help you? If you want something in particular I can order it. Guaranteed before Christmas.”

  “That soon?” Nick shook his head. “Not sure. Do you know Byron Watts? He works for me. Likes poetry.”

  “I sure do. He likes to browse for the classics. Once in awhile he picks up some kids books. And he’s big on Fantasy. You buying something for him?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know much about his taste.” Nick stuffed his hands in his back pockets. Fantasy? What did that even mean? “Can you guide me here?”

  “Sure thing. I think his children books are for family members, but I know he likes sci-fi, or Lord of the Rings stuff.”

  He never would have pegged Byron as a Tolkien buff. “Is there anything new out?”

  “Yeah. A collector’s edition for the holiday.”

  “I’ll take it.” When his gift was bought and wrapped up, Nick entered a hobby store that had a large selection of frames. Picked a few to match the woodsy photos Ally took. Then he returned to work in time for lunch.

  Ally came in first. “Hey, boss. How’re you doing?”

  “Fine. I was putting up lost and found posters for that pup I’d been chasing, and I got to thinking. How would you and Byron like to come over Christmas day? Have dinner. A few drinks and laughs.”

  She eyed him with curiosity. “Geez, that would be great, but I already have plans.” Ally touched his arm. “What about you? Don’t you have any family nearby?”

  “No, no family.” He shrugged as if that was the last thing he needed. “Anyway, I’m glad you have plans, figured you might be on your own.”

  Byron walked in. “Plans for what,” he asked, removing his wool cap.

  “For Christmas. Nick wants to invite you and me.”

  Byron raised a brow. “Sorry, boss, but I’m busy too.” He stepped around the bar and hitched his ass on a stool. “Why the invite? Don’t you have anywhere to go?”

  Nick felt his cheeks grow warm, and his spine stiffened. “Sure, but I decided to have guests over instead. Thought you guys might be on your own, and wanted to include you in the festivities. But if you’re both busy, well, no worries.”

  “Festivities, huh?” Byron chuckled. “Sure sounds like fun, but I’ll be out of town for a night or two.”

  “Just a few people over. Not exactly festive,” he mumbled. He didn’t know why he lied, but it seemed so dismally lame not to have family or friends or any loved ones to spend the holiday with. Even his two drifter employees had plans.

  Maybe it was time for Nick to get a life.

  * * *

  They only had four tables of diners in for lunch, and closed early. Nick was locking away the cash when his cell phone rang and he saw it was Jennie calling.

  Like an idiot his heartbeat speeded up, and he damn near smiled. What was he? A schoolboy with a crush? Why was he behaving like some pimply jerk-face who’d never been laid? Probably had a lot to do with Christmas, and the letdown feeling that always accompanied it. He didn’t really hate Christmas, he just didn’t like it very much. Let’s just say, he preferred the rest of the year.

  Heck, even Valentine’s Day was friendlier, with far less stress. He had a wonderful Valentine’s last year. Took his date into Philly and they stayed at the Hyatt. They went dining and dancing at a hot new nightspot, and she’d been thrilled. They both drank a little too much champagne and then went back to their room and tumbled in bed. Had a hellova time too.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with him—or his equipment. Both were in fine working order. He enjoyed female company, especially in bed, as much as the next guy, but he also liked his free time too. Being a bachelor had some perks. He could be with a girl when he wanted to, but if he wanted to go hiking in the woods, or climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, well he could do that too. Without asking permission.

  And he didn’t have to buy the cow to sample the milk, although that wasn’t really what it was about. He just didn’t get off on dating a lot of women and banging a new one every week. That was Byron’s forte. One day he hoped to find a woman of his own, one that he looked forward to waking up to, and saying goodnight as their heads hit the pillow. A companion, a friend, lover and wife. He wanted that very much.

  He might need to move that off the back burner and put it up front on simmer.

  All those thoughts went in and out of his head as he answered the call. “Jennie. How’s it going?”

  “Great! Can’t you hear by all the noise behind me? My nephews are over. Everybody has new Lego sets and they’re squabbling over the pieces.” She laughed. “I’m calling because I heard from Allan. You know—the insurance adjustor. He wants to meet me tomorrow at eleven
. I know you’ll probably be busy cooking right about then, but if possible I’d like to pick up what we talked about. If it’s not taken.”

  “I haven’t been home to answer the phone or check my emails, but nobody has called my cell or come to the restaurant to claim him.”

  “That’s good, but if anything changes, please call me at once. I’d need to get busy on it, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. Of course, I’ll call. Can you get away early? Meet me at the house around eight thirty or nine? We can do it then, or after the lunch hour crowd leaves. We closed today around two.”

  “After would work best for me.”

  He could hear the children arguing in the background. “Sounds like you’ve got a hundred kids over.”

  “Nope. That’s just four. How can some people have a dozen children?” she asked and laughed again.

  “Beats me. Two dogs are enough.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone, and he regretted his words, wishing he could slip them back. “I mean one day I want kids. Just not right now.” Shit! He’d just made it worse.

  “I understand.” Her voice was cool, crisp, like a winter fog.

  “I didn’t exactly mean that. I’m envious of people who have a good family life. I never had that myself.”

  “That is sad. I’m sorry. So what are you going to do for Christmas? You can’t be alone.”

  “I invited Byron and Ally over. They’re going to let me know.” Another lie. He was an honest person, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was pitiful. He’d rather be a liar than someone to be pitied.

  “I hope it works out, for all of you.” He heard her mother’s voice in the background asking if it was Nick she was talking to. “Invite him for Christmas,” he heard her mother say.

  “I’ve got to go, Nick,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Have a good night.” He turned his phone off and jammed it in his pant pocket, grabbed his coat, and locked up. He’d go home for a few hours, maybe get his little black book out and see who was still available.