A Savannah Christmas Wish

by Nan Dixon

  A reminder popped up. Biopsy. Daniel shivered.

  Pop didn’t want him and Nathan leaving work, but he couldn’t let his dad go through this painful procedure without support.

  He headed to the first floor. Two of the crew worked on the rock. He tapped Quint’s shoulder.

  Quint pulled out his earbuds. “What now?”

  Daniel grimaced. He’d been snapping at the crew. “I’m heading out. Call if there’s trouble.”

  Quint nodded.

  “If you finish this room before the end of the day, start in the study.”

  “Got it.” Quint plugged back into his music.

  Daniel brushed chalk from his hair and clothes, and headed for the door.

  Carly greeted him with a woof. Her tail wagged like his high school band leader’s metronome set on crazy fast. Shoot, he couldn’t take Carly to the hospital.

  When he’d arrived this morning, Bess had been in the garden.

  He grabbed Carly’s chain. “Come on, girl.”

  Carly tripped, tumbling out the door.

  Bess’s laugh trilled through the garden. “Her paws are bigger than her legs,” she called.

  At the sound of Bess’s voice, Carly went running.

  Bess held out a hand, stopping the puppy from climbing in the exposed dirt. “Hey, girl.”

  Daniel skirted one of Bess’s curved and meandering paths. If he were designing these gardens, everything would be straight lines and ninety-degree angles. Bess didn’t think in lines or angles. But her work won awards.

  “Sit,” Bess instructed. The puppy plopped her butt down on Bess’s lap.

  “Impressive.” Daniel knelt next to Bess and Carly.

  “Who’s a good girl?” Bess roughed up the puppy’s ears.

  “Not her. She got into the garbage this morning.”

  Bess tugged the dog under her arm. “You shouldn’t have left it out.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Any chance you could watch her this afternoon?”

  “Sure.” She took the puppy’s face between her hands. “Where does your daddy have to go? Another job site?”

  Daddy? “I don’t know when I can come get her. I won’t be at a job site.”

  Her sharp green eyes stared into his. “What’s up?”

  “Pop’s having a biopsy.”

  “A biopsy?” Her mouth dropped open. “Why?”

  “He’s got cancer.” He hated saying the words.

  “Daniel.” Her hand covered his and squeezed. “What kind?”

  “Bone marrow.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you just find out?” The sympathy in her voice was too much.

  He shook his head. “Last week.”

  “Oh. Ooh.” Her hand slipped away. Her eyelashes covered her eyes, but not before he caught the hurt in them. “I’ll take care of Carly. Wish your dad luck.”

  “I will.” He stood. “Thanks.”

  Should he have told Bess? Telling people made his dad’s disease real. He wanted the doctors to give his father a pill and tell him everything would be fine.

  When he walked into the waiting room, Mom’s face lit up. “You didn’t need to come.”

  “My crew was plotting my murder if I didn’t get out of their hair.” He hugged her. “How’s Pop?”

  “I sat with him before they took him to the procedure room. He was doped up and still flirting with his nurses.”

  They talked while a television silently played a daytime game show.

  Nathan arrived. Daniel gritted his teeth, but nodded.

  “Apparently, we had the same idea.” Nathan leaned down and kissed Mom.

  They sat on each side of their mother, just being there. By talking of nothing serious, they kept the silence from creeping in and smothering them.

  Finally, a nurse brought them to Pop’s bedside. “He’s groggy. Once he’s released, he should rest for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “When will we know the results?” Daniel tapped his fingers against his jeans.

  “In about a week.” The nurse pulled aside a curtain.

  His dad’s skin was as white as the plasterboard Daniel had been hanging earlier. Oxygen tubes snaked into his nose. He lay on his side with an ice pack taped to the back of his hip.

  Daniel’s knees loosened. He had to lock them in place to keep from stumbling.

  Pop opened his eyes. “Who’s minding the store?” His voice slurred.

  Nathan quipped, “No work today. Daniel brought cases of beer to all the sites and the crews just drank.”

  His dad waved a hand with a catheter stuck in his vein.

  “Ignore Nathan,” Daniel snapped. “How do you feel?”

  “Like someone drilled into my hip and left the needle in there.” He shifted and tears rushed to his eyes.

  “Can you do something about his pain?” Daniel asked the nurse.

  “I twisted wrong,” Pop growled. “I want to go home and sleep in my own bed.”

  “Not yet,” said his nurse.

  “I don’t want the boys here. They’ll hover.” He raised his voice. “I don’t like hovering.”

  “We’re not hovering, we’re here for Mom.” Nathan patted his shoulder.

  The nurse shook her finger at him. “You need to stay still, Mr. Forester.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Behave, Samuel.” Mom took his hand.

  Daniel took a chair and settled in. He was right where he should be. “We’re not leaving.”

  * * *

  BESS JAMMED HER shovel blade into the sod. Daniel hadn’t mentioned his dad had cancer or that he was having a biopsy. They’d been together for a couple of weeks and he hadn’t shared something this important. Cancer.

  Tossing the dirt and grass into the full wheelbarrow, she rolled everything to her compost pile.

  His secrecy shouldn’t hurt so much. She’d wanted their being together to be fun. But this was Samuel. Samuel mattered.

  Carly barked. “Hey, girl.”

  She’d made headway with the path designs and had earned a lunch break. Bess gathered up Carly’s chain.

  A blonde woman, a repeat guest from Texas, waved from a wrought-iron table. “You all are really expanding.”

  “We are.” She couldn’t pull the name up, but knew the woman and her husband had stayed with them several times. “Maybe the next time you stay, you’ll be able to choose from the Carleton House rooms.”

  “I hope so. Now which sister are you?”

  “Bess.”

  “And I’m Annabelle.”

  They talked about what was going on and the timeline. Bess finally took her leave.

  Sometimes she forgot her family’s purpose. They were creating a B and B where people relaxed and enjoyed their beautiful old mansion, good food, wines and wonderful gardens.

  She wrapped Carly’s chain around the table on the private patio. “Be good.”

  She hardly remembered when Fitzgerald House had been their home. When Papa died, everything had changed.

  She’d adored Papa. For her eighth birthday, he’d insisted she could redo her bedroom, but when he’d died, Mamma had rented out her room first. As an adult, she understood Papa had spent money they didn’t have, but she’d lost two things she’d loved—her papa and her beautiful bedroom. She shook off the memory as she moved off the patio.

  Carly woofed.

  “Sorry, girl. Abby won’t let you in her kitchen.”

  The kitchen was empty. She filled a plastic bowl with water and brought it outside. Did Carly eat during the day? She sent a text to Daniel, asking. Even before she’d slipped the phone back in her pocket, he’d responded, Just water.

  How’s your dad? she sent back.


  Resting. Won’t know results for a week.

  Give him my best.

  Will do.

  When Bess reentered the kitchen, Abby stood in front of one of the fridges.

  “Got anything in there for a hungry landscaper?” Bess asked.

  “Sure.” Abby pulled out sandwich fixings along with a freshly baked loaf of bread. “How’s it going?”

  “I’ve got the paths laid out.” She took a deep breath. “Samuel has cancer. He had a biopsy today.”

  “Cancer?” Abby’s eyes went wide. “No.”

  Bess swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Daniel just told me.”

  And he hadn’t told her until she’d asked why she needed to take care of his puppy. The truth stung like grabbing a vine with a bee on it.

  “I’ll make them dinner.” Abby’s eyebrows snapped together. “But I have the wine tasting tonight.”

  “I can drop off the food.”

  “Great.”

  She sent a text to Daniel, letting him know. This time the message wasn’t instantaneous: Pop and Mom say thanks.

  When Bess put her phone away, Abby handed her a sandwich piled with thinly sliced beef, havarti, tomatoes and lettuce.

  “This looks fantastic.” And she had to force herself to take a bite.

  While she ate, Abby searched the fridges. “I have time for a slow-cooker meal.”

  “I’d better get back to work.” Bess dusted her hands. “I’ll let you know when I’m leaving.”

  * * *

  WHEN THE FORESTER clan pulled up to their house, Bess waited on the porch with the food and Carly.

  Deb and Daniel walked on each side of Samuel as he shuffled up the front walk. Bess bit her lip, not wanting to make a noise. He was a pale, fragile copy of the man she knew as Samuel Forester.

  Daniel shot her a quick look, a frown creasing his forehead.

  She called out, “How are you doing, Samuel?”

  Carly barked, her butt wiggling as the family helped Samuel up the steps.

  “Hey, someone left a puppy and a pretty girl on my porch.” Samuel smiled at her. He turned to Debbie. “Can I keep them?”

  “I’m all the woman you can handle, young man.” Tears filled Deb’s eyes.

  Bess held the door, but Daniel waved her inside. Carly wove her way through all the legs and headed to the back of the house.

  Bess hauled the box with Abby’s pot and food basket to the kitchen.

  “I’m not heading to bed. I’ll sit in the family room.” Samuel’s deep voice carried to the kitchen. “I’m not an invalid, I just had a really long needle suck out my bone marrow.”

  Her stomach turned.

  “Daniel, bring down the book from beside my bed, please?” Samuel asked.

  When it sounded as though Samuel was settled, she walked into the family room. “Deb, I put the things that need to be cold in the fridge.” She brushed a kiss on Samuel’s cheek. “You take care of yourself. There are lots of people who love you.”

  “Stay for dinner,” Deb insisted. “Knowing Abby, there’s food for a dozen people.”

  She should let the Foresters have family time.

  Daniel came down the stairs with a book in his hand. “Join us,” he said to Bess.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let me get everything out. I want you to relax, Deb.”

  “I’ll take you up on that.” Deb’s voice might have been as bright as a gerbera daisy, but the worry lines around her eyes told another story.

  Deb sat at the kitchen table, directing Bess as she pulled out dishes and set the table.

  “Daniel, get Bess a glass of wine,” Deb said.

  “Sure.” He uncorked a bottle and poured glasses for his mother and Bess. His hand lingered when he handed her the glass.

  “Thanks.” She smiled at him.

  “What did Abby make?” Daniel peered over her shoulder while she stirred the pot. He leaned into her body for an extra moment and her heart beat picked up.

  “Chicken tortilla soup.”

  “Sounds good,” Nathan called out.

  Daniel stepped away and rested against the counter.

  Nathan pulled a beer from the fridge. “I still owe you that beer. Want one now?”

  She held up the Shiraz Daniel had poured for her. “I’m good.”

  “After dinner, we could stop by a club.” Quietly, he said, “I wanted to ask if you’ve...” He tipped his gaze to Daniel.

  She didn’t have any new insights on how to help Nathan and Daniel get along. “I have to pack tonight.” Under her breath, she said, “I’m working on it.”

  He nodded.

  Daniel frowned.

  “I’m sorry about your apartment,” Deb said.

  “I understand.” Bess accepted Deb’s apology.

  “I’m a great packer,” Nathan added.

  “Thanks, but I’m better on my own.” Bess opened the stove to check the corn bread.

  “If you need my help, all you have to do is ask.” Nathan moved to her other side so he and Daniel bracketed her. Nathan put a hand on her shoulder and peered in the oven, sniffing loudly. “That smells almost as good as you do.”

  Daniel sniffed, too, putting a hand on her back. “Yeah.”

  The brothers were treating her like a wishbone—again. She shut the oven door with a thump, escaped and sat next to Deb. “Ten more minutes.”

  Deb patted her hand. “Tell me about Carleton House and the gardens you’re fixing up.”

  Daniel and Nathan wandered back to the family room. She took a deep breath, glad they were gone. “This is what I plan to do.”

  * * *

  “CAN I GET you anything?” Daniel asked his father.

  “Dinner was delicious, but I’m done.” Samuel pushed away from the table. “Bess, tell Abby thanks.”

  “Of course.” Bess was chewing on her lip.

  Pop’s shoulders slumped. “Boys, can you help me upstairs?”

  “Sure. Sure.” Daniel asked his mom, “Is it time for his pain pill?”

  Deb checked the kitchen clock, the rooster that had been there all his life. “I’ll bring it up.”

  Daniel took one arm, Nathan the other.

  “Jesus, I hate feeling weak.” Pop paused halfway up the stairs, his breaths coming in raspy gasps. “Don’t tell your mother.”

  “Never.” Nathan looked over their father’s head at Daniel, worry etching lines in his face. “It’ll be our secret.”

  “It’s probably the anesthesia.” Daniel stared into Nathan’s eyes. For once they were on the same page—terrified of their father’s weakness.

  They stopped two more times to let Pop rest. When they finally settled him in bed, the soup was churning in Daniel’s stomach.

  “Jesus, I need a beer.” Nathan’s socks slid as he hurried down the back stairs. He didn’t stop until he had another bottle in his hand.

  “I thought you were driving.” His brother drank too much. Always.

  “Boys,” Mom warned, tucking a towel under the sink.

  “Bess, can you give me a ride to Smitty’s?” Nathan asked.

  Bess had a deer-in-headlights look. “Well—”

  “I need to talk to you about Carleton House,” Daniel interrupted.

  A relieved smile broke over her face. “Sure.”

  “Don’t you have to pack?” Nathan’s eyebrows smashed together.

  “We’ll talk while you pack,” Daniel said.

  “I’ll hitch a ride as far as your apartment,” Nathan said as they moved to the door.

  “Um, okay.” Bess grabbed the box with Abby’s pot, but Nathan took it from her arms.

  Daniel kissed his mother. “Let me know if you need anyth
ing.”

  “I will.” She touched his arm, keeping him from walking away. “I want you to try a little harder with Nathan. Give him a chance.”

  Why did Mom always ask him to change? Nathan was the one who had to grow up. “He’s not pulling his weight.”

  “He’s learning,” Mom insisted. “He’s not the troublemaker he was back in high school or even when he first worked with the company.”

  Daniel didn’t believe her. “I’ll try.”

  Carly shook, her tags rattling. Shoot, he had to get his dog into the car. He stared as Bess and Nathan drove away.

  When he finally got to her apartment, Bess’s car was in the lot. He parked, cracking the window even though the night had cooled.

  “Stay, girl.” He grabbed a treat from the box he kept in the back. “Here.”

  The apartment keys were in his hand. The security door banged as he threw it open. His heart pounded along with his boots as he took the stairs two at a time. He was acting like a madman.

  At Bess’s door he paused. Maybe Nathan hadn’t come up to her apartment. Holding his breath, he knocked.

  Bess’s muffled laugh came through the heavy wooden door.

  The locks clicked. Nathan opened the door. “Hey, little brother.”

  Daniel pushed his way into the room. “Thought you were getting drunk.”

  Nathan slapped a hand on his chest. “Drunk? You have a poor opinion of your older brother.”

  “One you’ve earned.” He stalked into the living room.

  Half-filled boxes jammed the room, but he didn’t see Bess. He headed to the bedroom. Clothes covered the bed and floor. How could she work in this chaos? Bess bent over a box. Her back was to the door and her ass filled out her jeans like a dream.

  “Nice,” Nathan whispered behind him.

  Daniel wanted to black his brother’s eyes.

  Her head snapped up. “Nathan? I thought you’d left.”

  “Daniel arrived as I was leaving.” Nathan leaned against the door frame. “Don’t let him work you all night.”

  Both their heads jerked toward him. Did his brother guess they were sleeping together?

  Nathan pointed a finger at him. “Daniel would work 24/7 if he could.”