The Giving Season

by Rebecca Brock

  “Jessy and I had a few things to discuss,” Michael said and smiled, lifting Jessy’s left hand to show off the ring.

  Lyssa gasped softly as she saw the ring. Her gaze went from the ring to Michael and then to Jessy, her eyes suddenly glistening.

  “Oh, sweetheart—welcome home.” Lyssa embraced both Michael and Jessy at once.

  “It’s about time, Monk-boy!” Frank said as he gave Michael a playful shot to the shoulder and swooped Jessy up in a hug.

  No one noticed Ann standing in the doorway.

  “Michael?”

  Her voice was unnaturally soft, unusually meek. Michael turned, his smile fading as soon as he saw her standing there, holding bags of wrapped gifts in her arms.

  Ann tried a weak smile. “I rang the bell, but no one answered.”

  The room fell into a deadly silence. Lyssa began to speak, then thought better of it and walked away, disappearing into the kitchen. Frank glowered for a moment, then joined Lyssa.

  Jessy glanced over Ann’s shoulder, suddenly afraid that she had brought the Child Protective Services to take the children.

  “I’m alone,” Ann said quietly, sensing Jessy’s worry. Her gaze ticked back to Michael. “Can we talk?”

  “I don’t know what’s left to say,” Michael said tonelessly.

  “Please, Michael.”

  The pleading tone in her voice hit its mark. Michael glanced to Jessy and she could see the indecision in his eyes, the anger tempered with sadness. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Let’s go into the living room,” Michael said, taking Jessy’s hand before she could object. Michael and Jessy sat together on the couch. Ann remained standing, awkward as she studied the ornaments on the tree.

  “I remember this one,” she said, gently touching a glitter-covered blue dove. “Libby made it in third grade—she swallowed the glitter and scared us half to death, remember?”

  Michael sat stone-faced. “What do you want, Ann?”

  Ann took a deep breath, releasing it in a deep sigh. “I just—I thought I’d stop by. To see the kids before I go.”

  “Before you go?” Michael said, his expression dark, unreadable. “So you’re taking off again?”

  “I just found out today—a magazine in New York is looking for an editor. They want me. I’m leaving for my interview with them tomorrow.” Ann’s voice faded away as she turned her attention back to them. Jessy saw her gaze go to their entwined hands, saw the almost imperceptible tightening of her mouth when she saw the ring.

  “Do the kids like her?” Ann refused to look at Jessy, keeping her eyes on Michael only.

  “The kids love Jessy,” Michael said quietly. “I love Jessy.”

  Ann nodded, a quick jerk of her head, and finally looked away from Michael back to the decorations on the tree. She touched a gingerbread man made of salt-dough, smiling faintly.

  “We made these before—before I left,” she said softly. “Libby helped mix the dough and Marie painted the buttons on. Ben couldn’t understand why we couldn’t eat them—”

  She looked back to Michael and Jessy again, her eyes shining with tears. “I never knew,” she said, voice little more than a whisper. “I had everything but—I never knew—”

  Michael’s grip on Jessy’s hand tightened, but he didn’t get up to comfort Ann. He simply watched her, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

  “I shouldn’t have done it,” Ann said softly. “I shouldn’t have threatened you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her gaze found Jessy’s again. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”

  Jessy nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It was the best she could do.

  “I’ll be moving to New York,” Ann said, turning her attention to Michael again. “It’s a wonderful opportunity for me—”

  “Of course it is,” Michael said tightly.

  “Can’t you at least be happy for me?”

  “What about the kids, Ann?” Michael’s voice rose for the first time since Ann’s arrival. “What am I supposed to tell them when they ask about you?”

  “You tell them that I love them—”

  “No.”

  Ann flinched slightly. “What?”

  “I’m not making excuses for you any more, Ann.” Michael released Jessy’s hand and stood, stalking over to Ann. “It has always been about you. What you wanted. What you needed. Your job. Your career. Your life.”

  “And what was I supposed to do, Michael? Settle for a life here on this farm? Never going anywhere or doing anything or making anything of my life? That might be good enough for you, but I deserved better!”

  Michael visibly recoiled. He said nothing, and for a few long moments he and Ann simply stared at each other, as if daring the other to look away first. Jessy saw the pain in his eyes, knew that Ann’s words had cut even deeper than she’d intended. And she saw that Ann realized it as well.

  “Michael—” Ann spoke just as he turned away from her. He sat stiffly beside Jessy, bracing his forearms on his knees, keeping his head down. Jessy hesitated for a moment before touching his arm, expecting a rebuff, but he took her hand almost eagerly, holding it tightly between both of his.

  “I wasn’t meant for this,” Ann said softly. “I wasn’t meant for this kind of life.”

  “Because you deserve so much more,” Michael said bitterly, looking up again.

  “Because I wanted more.” Ann looked around the room, shaking her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

  “What do we do about the kids?” Michael asked quietly. “Obviously we can’t share custody—”

  “I want you to have full custody.”

  Michael studied her for a moment. “Do you realize what that means?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re willing to give them up?”

  “Well, I’d hope you’d let me borrow them occasionally.” Ann tried a small smile, but couldn’t sustain it. “They belong with you, Michael,” she said softly. “You’ve made a home for them here. You’ve given them all the things that I never could.”

  Michael nodded, that muscle still ticking in his jaw.

  Ann laughed bitterly. “Hell, I didn’t even know that my own daughter had food allergies. Does that make me mother of the year or what?”

  Jessy could see tears shining in Ann’s eyes. Michael still seemed unmoved, as still as stone.

  “I hope we can work out a good visitation schedule,” Ann continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ll come here, of course, if you’ll have me. And maybe I can take the kids to visit New York once I get settled—it could be like a vacation for them—”

  “We’ll see,” Michael said quietly, looking up to Ann again.

  “Good—great—” Ann nodded, awkward again.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow night.” Ann smiled thinly. “Nobody likes to travel on Christmas day, so it’s a cheap flight.”

  Michael looked at Jessy and she knew exactly what he was thinking. She gave his hand a squeeze.

  “Why don’t you—” Michael hesitated, sighing as he looked up to Ann again. “Why don’t you come over in the morning. Spend Christmas with the kids before you go.”

  Ann’s smile bloomed, then faltered as she glanced at Jessy. “Are you—I mean, is it okay? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” Jessy said quietly. She gave Michael’s hand one last, quick squeeze and went over to Ann. “You’re their mother. The kids will never forget that. I will never forget it. I’ll love them and take care of them when you’re not here, but you’ll always be their mother.”

  Ann nodded, her eyes shining with tears again.

  “I’d like for us to be friends someday,” Jessy said softly. “Not just for the kids’ sake, or for Michael’s sake—for our sake.”

  “Even after everything—?” Ann’s voice trailed away, tears trailing over her cheeks.

  “Especially after everything.” Jessy slowly smiled. “We’ll sta
rt slow, though. See if we can get through Christmas without a cat-fight or hair-pulling and then go from there.”

  Ann laughed quietly. “I think I might be able to restrain myself.”

  “Me too.” Jessy’s smile brightened a little. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  “Yes,” Ann said softly, nodding. “I’d like that very much.”

  Michael stood and joined Jessy, slipping his arm around her shoulders as he pressed a quick kiss against her temple. “Merry Christmas, Ann,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah,” Ann whispered, managing a faint smile through her tears. “Merry Christmas.”

  The lights of the Christmas tree blinked in its own rhythm, casting shadows of red, blue, and green over the darkened room. Curled up together on the couch, wrapped up in one of Lyssa’s afghans, Jessy and Michael watched the lights of the tree in silence. Everyone else in the house had long since gone to bed.

  The grandfather clock chimed, struck twelve.

  “It’s midnight,” Michael said softly, kissing Jessy’s temple as she snuggled closer to his chest. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  Jessy raised her head to smile at him. “Merry Christmas.”

  They kissed again, lingering sweetly, taking all the time in the world. As Jessy settled against Michael’s shoulder again, she marveled at the realization that this was only the first of many Christmases together.

  And that she finally belonged somewhere, with people who loved her as much as she loved them.

  “I wonder what Charlie will say when I tell him we’re engaged.” Jessy smiled, idly unbuttoning the top button of Michael’s shirt to stroke his chest. She loved the feel of his skin, the wiry softness of the dark hair.

  Michael laughed quietly, a rumbling sound that widened Jessy’s grin and sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

  “He’ll probably kick himself for losing you,” he said, smiling down to Jessy again. “And then I’ll kick his ass for hurting you.”

  Before Jessy could speak, soft footsteps scuffed down the hall to the doorway of the living room. Ben, Marie, and Libby peeked into the room.

  “Can we open presents now?” Marie asked.

  “It’s Christmas morning,” Ben added. “Libby said that after midnight means it’s morning.”

  Ben and Marie ran over to the couch and climbed onto their laps, squirming as they settled comfortably against them. Marie leaned against Jessy, one arm around her neck, as Ben sat between them, half on Jessy and half on Michael. Libby, much more ladylike and adult, perched on the edge of the cushion beside Michael. Laughing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hauled her back, until the five of them were all jumbled on the couch.

  Jessy’s heartbeat pounded so fiercely she could feel it in her temples. Before this moment, she hadn’t even considered the notion that the kids might not want her to marry their father. What would she do then? What could she do?

  “What would you guys think,” Michael said, looking from Ben to Marie to Libby, “if Jessy and I got married?”

  Silence. The kids looked at each other, then back to Michael. Jessy thought her heart might stop.

  “Would she live with us?” Marie asked softly.

  Michael nodded, eyes solemn. “Yes, she would.”

  Ben shyly smiled. “Would she make us cat pancakes in the morning?”

  “I sure would,” Jessy said, smiling as she kissed the top of Ben’s head. Suddenly she could breathe again.

  “Would you expect me to be a babysitter for more rugrats?” Libby asked, trying to sound smart-alecky, but betrayed by the smile in her eyes.

  “Yeah!” Marie shouted, grinning brightly. “Can we have a baby sister? A baby brother would be okay, but I’d rather have another sister.”

  Michael looked to Jessy, barely able to control his broad smile. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  “Good!” Marie gave Jessy a hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re going to stay.”

  “Me, too,” Jessy said as Ben joined the embrace and kissed her other cheek. She met Michael’s gaze and wished she could freeze the moment and keep it in her heart forever. “I love you guys,” she said quietly.

  “We know,” Libby said, smiling as she leaned against Michael in a hug. “Ditto to you.”

  The grandfather clock chimed the quarter-hour, and Michael glanced at his watch, frowning slightly. “Uh-oh,” he said, keeping his expression deadpan and serious. “I hope Santa hasn’t decided not to stop because you guys are still awake.”

  Marie and Ben stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “He might not stop?” Ben asked quietly.

  Michael shrugged, exaggeratedly nonchalant. “Gee—I don’t know. I thought I might have heard something on the roof tonight—like reindeer hooves. But maybe it was just the wind—”

  Ben and Marie didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled off Michael and Jessy’s laps and ran for the stairs. As Libby trailed along behind them, almost embarrassed by her own excitement, Michael and Jessy followed the kids up the stairs, holding hands and exchanging delighted glances. Jessy thought she might never stop smiling.

  They tucked the kids into bed with a kiss and a tickle, even though they knew it would be a long night of excited whispers and giggles before Marie and Ben settled down enough to fall asleep.

  “Can we stay up and watch for Santa?” Marie asked as Jessy smoothed the curls away from her forehead and kissed her cheek.

  “Nope,” Michael answered, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to look authoritative. “He won’t stop by if you’re awake.”

  “What if we hide?” Ben asked.

  “Santa knows,” Michael said sagely. “He always knows.”

  Jessy laughed; she could remember being that age, so excited about Santa’s visit that sleep was impossible. They would probably be up and opening presents by five in the morning. And she could hardly wait.

  Once the last minute drinks of water were fetched and the night-lights were plugged in and the closets were checked (because the Boogeyman might not take Christmas Eve off, Ben pointed out), Michael and Jessy were finally able to duck out of the bedroom and close the door. They immediately heard the sound of footsteps as Ben and Marie scrambled out of bed and headed to the window for their Santa watch.

  Michael and Jessy looked at each other and smiled.

  “Every year,” Michael said, chuckling. “Like clockwork.”

  “But Santa always stops anyway,” Jessy said as she stepped into Michael’s open arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they simply held each other, relishing the embrace, enjoying the precious moment. “Old Santa’s a very forgiving soul.”

  “Who are you calling ‘old’?” Michael asked with a grin. He kissed the tip of Jessy’s nose. “Want to help Santa haul in the presents?”

  “Don’t you have elves to help you with that?”

  “The elves don’t let me pinch their butts,” Michael said as he gave Jessy a healthy pinch. She yelped before she could catch herself and collapsed in giggles against him.

  “Okay, okay,” she said between laughs. “But only if I get equal opportunity.” She gave his backside a grope and Michael started in surprise.

  “Better not start something you’re not prepared to finish,” he said in a low, utterly sexy voice, pulling her closer.

  Jessy smiled up at him, batting her lashes, nuzzling in close to his ear. “We’ll see who’s ready to finish,” she whispered, breathing softly against his earlobe. She could feel the effect of her words on him as his embrace tightened. “After we bring in the presents.”

  Michael groaned good-naturedly. “After?”

  “I guess you’re right—” Michael rested his forehead against hers. “But when we’re finished, can I unwrap an early present?”

  Jessy smiled. “Only if I get to unwrap one, too.”

  With a mischievous grin, Michael chuckled and dipped his head down, kissing Jessy so slowly, so thoroughly, that she felt her entire body
melting against his. When he raised his head and gazed at her again, Jessy had to catch her breath.

  “Deal,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose again.

  EPILOGUE

  “What color eyes should the fairy queen have?” Jessy asked as she studied the mural. Michael had left the coloring decisions up to her and the kids, having done all the hard labor of sketching a gorgeous fantasy world of fairies and gnomes and magical creatures on the bedroom wall.

  “Green!” Marie said, handing Jessy a tube of forest green paint. Her cheeks were smudged with dabs of blue and pink, the same shades as the otherworldly sky of the mural.

  “Then green it shall be.” Jessy grinned as she squeezed a dime-sized blob of green paint onto her palette. “How’s it going on the ogre, Ben?”

  Ben carefully finished painting in the purple spots on the ogre’s orange skin and looked over to Jessy, a huge smile on his face. “I’m done!”

  Jessy carefully filled in the fairy queen’s green eyes and then handed Marie the palette and brush, bracing the small of her back as she stretched.

  “Have you really got a baby in there?” Marie asked, eyeing Jessy’s belly.

  Jessy looked down at her swollen stomach and smiled. “I sure do. And she’s awake—I can feel her doing her exercises.”

  “Can I feel it?” Marie asked, flattening a hand over the curve of Jessy’s stomach. The baby chose that moment to give a fierce kick, sending Marie into a gale of giggles. Laughing along with her, Jessy moved over to the small couch in the corner of the nursery, carefully easing herself down and sighing with relief as she sank into the cushions. Ben—copying what he’d seen Michael do a hundred times—helped her tuck a smaller pillow behind her back before climbing up beside her.

  “Are we going to have a brother or a sister?” he asked, pressing his ear against the worn denim of Jessy’s workshirt. Marie clambered up on Jessy’s other side and did the same.

  “I don’t think the baby’s going to be able to tell you yet,” Jessy said, grinning.

  “It’s going to be a girl,” Marie said. “And I’m going to help take care of her.”