The Homespun Holiday

by Sarah O'Rourke

  “Fruit and vegetables have sugar in them, too. Those kind of healthy foods will still fuel your body,” Mack reasoned, tilting his head as he grinned at the girl beside him.

  “Yeah, but like grandpa says…it’ll be plain ol’ unleaded fuel. I want the premium stuff. It’s like grandpa says. Why settle for Hershey’s when you can have Gooodiva,” Paisley said plainly as she pouted up at him.

  Mack had to swallow his laugh. “Do you even know what Godiva is?”

  “Nope, but it must be pretty good if my gramps is willing to turn down a Hershey’s candy bar,” Paisley offered with a shrug of her shoulders.

  Damn, but this kid was gonna keep him on his toes until he was lowered six feet into the ground, and he was going to enjoy every single second of it, Mack silently admitted to himself. “That may be true, my little con artist, but fruits and veggies cups will still get the job done if you’re really hungry. Now, would you like me to order one of those?” he asked as her little face turned mutinous.

  “I thought we were friends, Dr. Mack,” Paisley offered unhappily.

  “We are,” Mack stated quickly. “And in order to stay friends with you, I have to follow your mother’s rules. And I’m pretty sure that your mother would say one of her rules is no more than four donuts per café visit. Now, am I ordering a fruit cup or are you ready to go home and wait for your momma?”

  Paisley bit her lip as she eyed her audience. “It ‘pends, Dr. Mack. When we get home, can we watch The Princess Frog ‘gain?”

  Mack wanted to groan. Over the course of their day together, he’d been forced to watch that stupid frog three times. Of course, the frog was better on any day of the week than those five singing wieners that called themselves The Wiggles, he reminded himself with a shudder. Honest to God, he’d wanted to gouge out his eardrums with a rusty spoon after he heard those fuckers sing this morning. Nobody should have those baying turds inflicted on them before they have at least a whole pot of coffee shot into their bloodstream.

  “I think I can live with another viewing of The Princess Frog, Princess. Just no more Wiggles for me, okay?” Mack reminded her gently.

  “I know! I know! They’re agents for the Devil. You already telled me, Dr. Mack,” Paisley grumbled, her grouchy words bearing a marked resemblance to the adult in charge of her well-being at the moment.

  “Alright then. Sounds like we have a plan,” Mack said as he slid out of the booth and picked up Paisley’s bright yellow coat. Helping her slide it on, he knelt to zip it for her. “You ready to roll, co-pilot?”

  “Let’s do it,” Paisley shouted, punching the air with one tiny fist before latching onto Mack’s hand.

  Minutes later, Paisley sat, content, in the back seat of Mack’s Navigator. “You okay back there, Squirt? Warm enough?” Mack asked, looking at the little girl in his rear view mirror as she settled into the booster seat he’d picked up last week and installed into his SUV.

  “I’m toasty warm, Dr. Mack,” Paisley announced happily, staring straight at the back of his head with a smile on her face.

  “Good,” Mack murmured, turning onto the long stretch of county road that would take him into the sub-division where he lived. “So, Miss P, how ‘bout you tell me what you want for Christmas. Santa called me last night and told me that he’d misplaced your Christmas list. He asked me if I’d ask you so that he could get your order right.”

  “Santa called you?” Paisley’s awed little voice asked as her eyes dilated.

  “Uh, if you’re talking about the big bearded man in the red suit that delivers gifts, then, yes, he called me,” Mack said, sticking to the script he’d written for himself last night. “Santa tried calling your momma first, but she wasn’t answering her phone so he called me.” He wanted this Christmas to be special for Millie’s little girl, especially since it would be the first of many with him in the picture. If he could get this kid everything her little heart desired, he would, and screw Millie’s order to not spoil her child. If you couldn’t spoil a kid at Christmas, when could you do it?

  “I want what Santa brought my friend, Isabella, last Christmas. I want what Izzy and Heaven got real bad, but I don’t think Santa will bring it. I must not be as good as dey are ‘cause Santa forgot my wish last year,” Paisley mumbled sadly from the backseat. A look in the rearview mirror confirmed that the kid was fighting tears, and Mack didn’t like that at all. What the hell did those two kids have that Paisley thought she could never get, huh?

  “What’s that, Princess? You’re every bit as good as your friends, Sweetheart. I’m sure Santa didn’t forget your wish. He probably just ran out of whatever it is you wanted,” Mack tried to persuade the tearful kid in his backseat. Why the hell did he feel the sudden urge to find the nearest Santa Claus and punch him in the nose? He knew that wasn’t a sane reaction, but still…the urge was high and strong.

  “That’s what Heaven said today, but I don’t know. I think it’s ‘cause techily, I’ve already got one of what I’m asking Santa to get me.”

  “Do you mean ‘technically’, Squirt?” Mack asked, trying desperately to follow the kid’s line of thought.

  “Uh huh, see technically, I already got the thing I want the most from Santa. But it shouldn’t count, Dr. Mack! It’s not even here anymore,” Paisley explained, frowning as she turned her head to look out the window.

  His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. Taking in the little girl’s distressed expression, Mack’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Baby, what is it that Santa thinks you already have?”

  “A daddy, Dr. Mack!” Paisley blurted, slapping a hand against her mouth as she realized that she’d told her Christmas wish to another living soul. “Now, I’ll never get one ‘cause I blabbed it. It’s s’posed to be a secret,” she whimpered behind her hand.

  Mack steered his vehicle into his sub-division, turning the SUV carefully onto the street where he lived as he mentally ordered his own heartbeat to slow down. “Paisley, it’s okay,” his deep voice soothed softly as he gratefully spotted his driveway ahead of them. “Santa asked me to get your order for him, remember? He’s not going to care a bit that you told me.” Parking in his driveway, he quickly killed the engine and turned in his seat to look at the little girl. “I swear, Squirt, Santa isn’t gonna hold your present hostage because you told me what you really wanted. Let’s go inside, okay? I’ll see about getting you some cookies and milk, and you can tell me more about why you think Santa didn’t bring you a daddy. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Paisley sniffled. “Are the cookies chocolate chip?” she asked with a kind of innocent stare that twisted Mack’s heart.

  Mack chuckled as he opened his vehicle door. “I think I can rustle some of those up for you,” he told her with a smile as he opened her door for her and helped her out of her booster seat and down onto the pavement.

  He quickly led her toward the house and unlocked the front door. Stepping into his foyer, he helped her take off her coat and draped it over a peg on the wall before taking off his own jacket and doing the same. “You go on into the living room and I’ll get those cookies,” he told the little girl.

  “Okay, Dr. Mack,” she agreed with a nod before skipping off into the living room.

  Sighing, Mack headed for the kitchen, shaking his head. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as hard to get the green light from Paisley as he feared it would be. She seemed to desperately want a daddy, and there was nothing in the world that he’d rather do than be her father and Millie’s husband. Yes, it was fast, but it felt damn right, and he’d never been one that could ignore his feelings for long. Self-denial wasn’t in his vocabulary.

  He quickly dropped a few of the chocolate chunk cookies his mom had made earlier in the day on a plate and poured a glass of milk into a plastic tumbler. A glance at the clock on the wall assured him that his mom and sister would still be looking at apartments and Millie would still be shopping for another hour at least. Carrying the plate from the kitchen to the living room, he could al
ready hear the television going and he grinned. It hadn’t taken Paisley any time at all to feel comfortable in his home.

  “Okay, Princess, cookies and milk,” he proclaimed as he held out the platter of cookies for her royal highness to inspect. “Let’s not tell your momma about how much chocolate I gave you today, okay?” he requested, sliding the cookies and milk on the coffee table in front of his leather couch.

  “’Kay,” Paisley assented brightly, reaching out to snag one of the round cookies before settling back onto the sofa, her legs crossed Indian style as she happily munched on her treat.

  “Alright, Paisley,” Mack began, taking the seat beside her. “Let’s talk about this daddy business so that I can get your order into Santa tonight.”

  “Wellllll,” Paisley drawled, breaking off a hunk of cookie and stuffing it into her mouth before chewing thoughtfully, “It’s like this,” she said, crumbs flying from her lips. “I think I’ve already gots a daddy, but I don’t remember him a’tall. I think his name is Dumbass.”

  Mack nearly choked on his tongue. “What?” he sputtered.

  “Yeah, I think his name is Dumbass. That’s what I heared my Auntie Bethanne call him all the time!” Paisley elaborated.

  Mack had met Millie’s sister Bethanne several times over the months since he’d hired the woman he loved. He had no problem at all imagining the little spitfire calling Paisley’s sperm donor names. He’d heard a few of the more creative things she’d called him the night that Beth had warned him that if he ever hurt her sister the way John had, she’d drive to an alligator farm she’d once visited in Florida and feed him to them, piece by piece. He hadn’t been the least bit alarmed since Millie’s sister was probably a hundred pounds when she was soaking wet, but he had admired her loyalty to Millicent. “Dumbass, huh?” Mack choked when he managed to be able to form a coherent word.

  “Yep. But you ain’t s’posed to say that word,” Paisley warned, shaking her head as she blinked up at him.

  “Dumbass?” Mack asked, to clarify things.

  “Uh huh,” Paisley affirmed with a nod. “It’s an ugly word. Momma says we can’t use ugly words. You lose television time when you do.”

  “Good to know,” Mack murmured.

  “Anyway, I guess I gots a daddy, Dr. Mack, but he don’t want me,” she informed him in a whisper.

  “Princess, that loss is his, not yours,” Mack growled. “You’re perfect, Sweetheart. Any father would be lucky to call you his daughter. There are some dads out there that are just too stupid to realize how special their little girls are. I’m sorry to say that you got stuck with one of those. That doesn’t mean, however, that you can’t get another one if the right guy came along.”

  “Do you think Santa could find me the right guy like he did for Heaven and Izzy? Heaven’s daddy even asked her to be his little girl over a tea party! He bought her the prettiest blue tea set and sat her down to formerly ask her.”

  “You mean ‘formally ask her’?” Mack asked as he tried to keep a straight face.

  “Yep. Formally. Like I said, she had a blue tea set that serves two peoples, but I want a purple one that serves four people. And you know what else? She had an icky real daddy just like I do, and she still got Mr. Jake! And Izzy’s real dad did real bad things to her mommy and got sent away, but she got a new dad that takes her to the zoo and makes her pancakes every morning. They’re so lucky,” Paisley said dreamily.

  Mack’s heart cracked for what Paisley had been deprived of so far in her young life. She should have had a father that adored her. One that made her feel special every single day that she opened her eyes. Instead, she’d been deserted by a selfish prick that wanted his freedom more than his family.

  Fucking idiot.

  “Listen to me, Princess,” Mack urged softly, “You deserve every good thing in the world. I know it, and Santa knows it, too. In fact, I think I know why Santa didn’t deliver the daddy of your dreams last Christmas.”

  “You do?” Paisley breathed, her little jaw dropping as her hazel eyes widened with amazement.

  “I do,” Mack confirmed, praying he could pull off this little fib without Paisley tripping him up. The kid was sharp, and he knew that if she wasn’t completely convinced of his earnestness, she’d never believe him…and likely never believe him again. “You want to hear my theory?” he asked the interested girl.

  “Uh huh.” She nodded eagerly, hanging on every word.

  “I believe that Santa didn’t bring you a daddy last year for one reason, Sweetheart. Santa just hadn’t found you the perfect daddy yet. I’m betting that he’s looking far and wide for the best possible candidate for the job, and doesn’t want to bring you anybody but the guy that would be the very best for the job.”

  “You think that’s it? Really, Dr. Mack?” Paisley questioned hopefully.

  “I think that’s it, Paisley. And I promise you, that if you don’t get that daddy you want this Christmas, it won’t be long. There’s a man out there that’s just aching for a little girl like you to call his own. I know that with everything inside me,” he shared quietly, lifting his hand to cradle her rosy cheek. “I swear it.”

  Chewing her lower lip as she considered what Mack said, Paisley finally released a heavy sigh as she ceased twirling a strand of brown hair around her finger. “I hate waiting,” she stated unhappily.

  “I’ve never been good at waiting either,” Mack commiserated. He was more than ready to make this kid his own officially. She was so much like him that it hurt.

  “Momma says good things happen to those that wait patiently. Don’t tell, but I think she’s crazy,’ Paisley grumbled.

  Mack grinned. “Me, too. But you can’t tell I said that either.”

  Leaning her head against Mack’s shoulder, Paisley stared at the television for a silent minute. “Dr. Mack?” she finally asked.

  “Hmmm,” Mack hummed, glancing down at the top of Paisley’s head where it rested against him.

  “Did you ever want kids?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  “Oh, yeah,” Mack answered with a half-smile. “I’ve wanted a daughter all my life. I’ve heard daughters are a lot more fun than sons.”

  Paisley yawned. “That’s good. You’d make the bestest kind of daddy. I bet you’d give great tea parties,” she mumbled as the active day caught up with her and she drifted off to sleep.

  As Mack shut his own eyes for a minute, he reflected on the past hour. He’d known all along that he was going to have his work cut out for him, but hearing how hurt Paisley was by not having a daddy was definitely going to speed up his plans. She needed him. She and Millie both craved a dependable man that was going to put them ahead of everything else in the world, and that’s exactly what they were going to get for Christmas if it killed him.

  Turning his thoughts toward the most pressing problem, he wondered where in the hell he could find a purple tea set that serviced four.

  Eleven: Kissin’ by the Mistletoe

  Monday, December 23

  “Can I just say that I am incredibly grateful that you decided to close the office tomorrow for the holidays?” Millie groaned appreciatively as she leaned across the half dozen rolls of wrapping paper to press a long kiss against her boyfriend’s lips.

  Mack smirked as she released his mouth, enjoying the slightly fruity taste her tongue left behind. “Just pray to the pregnancy gods that nobody goes into labor for the next 48 hours,” he advised evenly. Both of them knew well that he could be called away on a moment’s notice. Such was the life of a doctor… especially one that specialized in delivering babies. Those brand new, tiny humans often had no sense of timing at all.

  “I already did,” Millie replied, reaching for another bow and sticking it to the gift she’d just finished wrapping. “None of our moms are in the two-week window so with a little luck we might just be in the clear.”

  Reaching for another toy from the towering pile in front of him, Mack grinned. He knew Paisley would like everythi
ng her mom had picked out for her, but he was also aware that he was going to be giving her the gift she really wanted. He was almost as excited as his future daughter for Christmas morning to arrive. Finding a purple tea service yesterday had been a challenge, but he’d finally found one at one of those touristy specialty stores in Gatlinburg. Yeah, it had been a bit of a drive, but well worth the price of gas. If he could convince Millie to say yes to his proposal tonight, then he KNEW everybody in his growing family would have a merry Christmas indeed. “It was nice of your mom and dad to take the Squirt for the night,” he noted evenly, reaching for the scissors beside where he sat cross-legged on Millicent’s living room carpet. The urge to simply blurt out the words, ‘Will you marry me’ was strong, but he knew he had to do this just right. Especially since it was the last time he ever planned to do this in his life.

  Completely oblivious to Mack’s ruminations, Millie shrugged. “Oh, both my parents knew I still had a lot to get done for Paisley before Christmas arrives, and they are well aware that Paisley has a sixth sense when it comes to wrapping gifts. It’s like she can smell the cellophane and runs to see whose stuff is getting wrapped.”

  Mack couldn’t help his grin mostly because he could see the little girl doing exactly that. It wasn’t hard to imagine her trying to spy what gifts she was getting. The child was naturally curious, and when Christmas got added into the mix, that curiosity increased exponentially. He couldn’t deny, though, he missed her. An evening without her tinkling laughter and incessant questioning seemed almost boring.

  “Besides, I thought the grown-ups could take advantage of the overnight stay at grandma’s house and have their own first sleepover tonight. That is, if you wanted to stay,” Millie added shyly, the coloring in her cheeks deepening as she spoke.

  Mack could only stare at the woman he’d fallen in love with. Dressed in a pair of black yoga pants that lovingly cupped the curves of her ass and an oversized red sweatshirt that bared one perfectly rounded shoulder, she looked gorgeous to him. Which wasn’t saying much…. Millie always looked gorgeous no matter if she was dressed in her work scrubs or decked out in a fancy formal gown. He never got enough of looking at her.