His Mistletoe Family

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His Mistletoe Family Page 9

by Ruth Logan Herne


  Her brother, Anthony, had been like Brett but she’d been too young to appreciate his qualities the few times they’d met. Maybe having Brett around was God’s way of easing the boys through their losses. A strong, focused man like their father to offset the entrepreneur with no time to care for them.

  Grim, she hurried up the steps to her bare-bones apartment.

  “Shh.” Brett put a finger to his mouth as she burst through the door, as if ten seconds would make a difference when she’d been gone all day.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She shut the door with a quiet squeak and click before she peeled off her coat and scarf. “They’re in bed?”

  “Just.”

  “Ah.” He must have read her look of disappointment, but he wasn’t the type to mollycoddle. She’d figured that out the first day. Comfort, yes. Spoil? No.

  “They had a good day.” He kept his voice soft as she plunked into the chair opposite him. “They devoured their lunch, so we can add hot dogs to the list of desirable foods. We tried stew for supper and we can put that in the column labeled dismal failure. I ended up substituting P.B. and J.”

  “No stew. Check!”

  He smiled. “They love chocolate milk, apple juice, drink boxes and my mother.”

  “Your mother?” Haley settled back. The warmth and comfort of the wide-backed chair wrapped around her, easing the frenzied pace she’d kept up all day. “They got to meet your mother before I did? How is that fair?”

  He acknowledged the teasing with the crooked smile she’d spotted on Thanksgiving, then huffed a breath. “She was drunk, Haley.”

  Haley shifted forward, concerned. “But she went to AA this morning, right?”

  He looked as confused as she felt, but how much harder this had to be for him because it was his mother they were talking about. Not an abstract. Not a theory. “Is this her norm, Brett? Pretending to conquer the addiction and then giving in?”

  “Yes. It’s worse at holiday time. And then it gets bad at Memorial Day. Fourth of July. Oh, wait, throw in Easter. And Veterans Day.”

  “Aw, Brett.” She made a noise of commiseration. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged it off, but she saw the shaded pain in his eyes. Heard it in the matter-of-factness of his voice. Acute problems tended to solve themselves with treatment. Chronic ones?

  Haley knew better. Her father’s “love ’em and leave ’em” mind-set left three separate kids from three different unions, none of whom he supported or visited. Someplace in Georgia was a nineteen-year-old half sister, a young woman Haley hadn’t even met. Her father refused to try harder, despite how she wished him different.

  Brett was in the same boat, only with alcohol involved.

  “She wasn’t real bad today.” He stood and put on his coat. “And it was kind of weird.”

  “Because?”

  A thoughtful look replaced the pain. “I think she liked the boys.”

  “Really?” Haley smiled. “Were they behaving?”

  “Yes, but it was more than that. It was like...” He moved toward the door. “Like she connected with them. She hasn’t connected well with anyone since my brother Ben died.”

  “Oh, Brett.” Haley crossed to his side. Took his hand. “I’m so sorry. When did you lose him?”

  “Nearly six years ago. He was on a training exercise in Northern California. Special Forces. Chopper went down. There were no survivors.” He didn’t look comfortable with the short report. As if talking about his brother’s death was unspoken territory.

  “Brett.” She drew his hand up to her face and pressed her cheek against his cool skin. “I don’t know what to say. Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it.”

  “Thank you, Haley.” He stroked one finger of their clasped hands along her cheek. His touch said he appreciated her caring even if the words seemed overdone. “On another note.” He pulled his hand free and zipped his coat. “I was able to contact a local pediatrician today. If we can’t locate the boys’ shot records we can either do a blood test to see if they have the antibodies proving they’ve been vaccinated or we have the vaccines redone.”

  “Is that dangerous? To vaccinate twice?”

  “Not according to the doctor I spoke with,” he assured her. “The lab tests are expensive, but there’s no risk involved. They just draw blood. I spoke with Anthony’s C.O. to see if they were treated on the base, but they weren’t. So he has no idea what doctor they might have gone to in New Jersey.”

  “I see.” She weighed the information, then asked, “Can I even take them to a doctor without proof of guardianship?”

  “We’ll find that out tomorrow. The Surrogate Court clerk will get back to us about setting a date for a hearing. You’ve got a copy of Anthony’s will?”

  “Yes. And the boys’ birth certificates. And copies of—” she grimaced as she added the rest “—Anthony and Angi’s death certificates.”

  “As hard as that is, it’s good.”

  His tone complimented and comforted her.

  “It just made sense to get them when I was in New Jersey the day before Thanksgiving,” she explained. “Angi’s Aunt Dell couldn’t find a thing. And the boys were driving her crazy. I figured I was lucky to get what I did and get out alive.”

  “Boys will be boys.” He grinned down at her, but then the smile softened. Stilled. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a brief moment, as if he found her lips fascinating.

  She took a half step closer in silent permission.

  Would he? Wouldn’t he?

  Oh, he did.

  His arms wrapped around her and for the first time in her life Haley felt embraced. One big, brawny hand cradled the back of her head while the other held her close. His kiss started slow. Soft. Easy.

  And then he deepened the kiss. The scent of kids’ shampoo and coffee made her think of homes with warm fires burning. Rocking chairs. Twinkle lights on a merry Christmas tree. All things she swore she’d never have because the men in her life weren’t in it for the happily ever after she desired.

  Grandpa had been, but that was two generations removed. Haley thought his kind had gone extinct, but she realized otherwise while kissing Brett Stanton.

  “Hey.” Brett whispered the word against her cheek, her hair.

  “Hmm?”

  “I, um...”

  “Didn’t mean for that to happen?”

  “Oh, I meant for it to happen.” He pulled back and she read the humor in his eyes. The laughter that seemed brighter, day by day. “I was hoping you and I were on the same page.”

  “It would seem so.” She tilted her head back. They exchanged smiles. He bent and swept a whisper-soft kiss to her mouth, so tender. So sweet.

  “But I need to head across the road, close up the store and call it a night. Charlie’s taking the boys tomorrow while I do those last scheduled inspections.”

  “Yes, I remember. They’re going to see someone named Bwana—?”

  “Bwana Jim. The boys will love him. Jim and Linda do a wild animal show that travels around the country. Right up the boys’ alley. And the co-op is ready for my reinspection Thursday?”

  “It is.”

  “And the court clerk in Belmont said they’d expedite things because Tyler needs to be in school.”

  “Excellent.” She hugged him hard, putting her gratitude into the embrace.

  “You’re welcome.” He touched one hand to her hair, just long enough to say he understood. “See you tomorrow. Sometime. Charlie will be by first thing.”

  “Okay.” She followed him to the door and watched him go down the stairs. He hadn’t brought his car over because that would be silly, which made her a little crazy for shifting her car around the corner as often as she did.

  He turned at the base of the building. “Go inside. Lock up. Get some
sleep.”

  “I will. I just wanted to say good-night again.”

  His smile proved she’d said the right thing. She’d seen the shadows of pain and remembrance in his face. The set of his shoulders, rigid and tight when he talked about Ben. About his mother.

  She longed to soothe him. Show him gentleness and caring.

  The kiss made her nervous, though. And excited. But right now, everything in her life was moving at break-neck speed. The cooperative, the legalities, the financing, the building, the boys...

  And now, Brett.

  She needed to breathe. To slow things down, but she couldn’t. Time wasn’t on her side, but she’d soldier on.

  The phrase reminded her of Brett. That kiss. His valor. His smile. The strength that emanated from him.

  Tired, she made up the couch. Tucked herself in. Prayed for the boys. For Brett. For his mother. For the sister she’d never met, a sibling she’d never played dolls with.

  That would be her New Year’s resolution. To find Fiona and get to know her. In her spare time.

  But for now? Sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  The scream woke her at 1:40 a.m.

  Haley jumped from the couch, and banged her shin against the coffee table.

  She raced for the bedroom, heart pounding. Fear of fire made her check the door with the flat of her hand first.

  Cool.

  She burst through.

  Tyler was curled in the corner of the bed, the side nearest the wall, his little arms wound tight around his legs. He rocked to and fro, head down, body shaking, waves of fear shuddering the pillow he clutched against his face and chest.

  “Tyler. Tyler, it’s okay. It’s all right. I’m here.”

  Her voice didn’t comfort him. He ducked away, closer to the wall, fearful, the pillow pressed tight against his face.

  “I’ve got you, honey.” Crooning, she crawled across Todd to get to Tyler, amazed that Todd slept through the tumult. “I’m here. It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

  She had no clue how long she sat there cuddling the boy. Her clock radio and phone were in the living room, both set to wake her in the morning. But it didn’t matter. She’d snuggle there until the little fellow calmed down. Until he fell asleep. Until—

  The knock on the door woke her hours later. Light filtered in, thin light, the sun blocked by thick, winter clouds.

  Haley sat up with a start.

  The door. Knocking. Daylight.

  Charlie. Which meant it was eight o’clock and she was still in bed and the boys lay sleeping, and...

  She grabbed her robe, called to the boys, flew to the door and swung it wide. Charlie’s sweet face smiled back at her. He took in the situation with a glance as he walked in. “I’ve got the boys. I’ve done all this before. You go get ready for work.”

  Charlie Simmons, superhero.

  “Thank you, Charlie!” She planted a kiss on his weathered face. He grinned and headed for the coffeemaker.

  “We need to get you a timed coffeemaker,” he advised while he measured. “By the time you’re ready, this will be good to go.”

  The coffee was. The boys weren’t, but Charlie grabbed an outfit for each one and herded them to the car after a quick kiss goodbye. Haley waved, rushed back inside and arrived at work with moments to spare.

  “Didn’t I just see you?” Lisa teased as they walked in together. “Like last night around eight o’clock? How are the boys doing? Did Brett’s day go well?”

  Realization hit Haley like a ton of bricks.

  She hadn’t even talked to Tyler about his bad dream. She’d barely said a word to the boys because she was running late, frazzled and digging for time. She left them in Charlie’s capable hands, but what kind of caregiver doesn’t address a child’s night terrors?

  The worst.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  Haley shook her head. “Rough morning. I overslept, then had to hurry around and barely acknowledged the boys. Charlie came to pick them up and I just handed them off.”

  “And?”

  “Tyler had a bad dream last night.”

  “Kids do that.”

  Haley hooked her coat onto the oak pegs along her office wall and frowned in displeasure. “But I didn’t even talk to him about it. I cuddled him and we both fell asleep so I never heard either alarm. That made this morning crazy beyond belief.”

  “Do you know what it was about?”

  Haley shook her head.

  “Ouch.” Lisa looked as helpless as Haley felt. “I’ve got nothing. No kids, no advice. But I don’t think it’s unusual for kids to have bad dreams. Right?”

  Haley had no clue. “We’ve got to take the boys to the pediatrician once I’ve got guardianship papers. I’ll ask them. They’re experts, right?”

  “‘We’ve’?” Lisa’s eyes brightened as she questioned the plural pronoun.

  “I meant I’ve got to take them,” Haley corrected herself.

  “But you said—”

  “And there must be work to do, right?” Haley planted a purposeful look on her face. “Are you prepping greens for the weekend?”

  Lisa let the change of subject slide, but her knowing look said she’d ferret out more in good time. “Yes. I’ve got them stored in the back room downstairs. It’s cold there and that keeps them fresh but out of the hands of people looking for freebies out back.”

  A rash of car break-ins and garage burglaries had been keeping the state troopers on their toes. A recent recommendation to keep things under lock and key didn’t work as well with Christmas greenery. “What about at the farm? Have you been missing things there?”

  “Not that we can see.” Lisa turned toward the back stairs and slipped on fingerless gloves. “I’m doing my initial wreath wiring down there to keep the mess minimal. I can’t do it at home because Mom sleeps too lightly. I’d wake her, she’d want to help and she needs to rest.”

  “No improvement in her prognosis?”

  Lisa’s expression said there wasn’t. “It’s progressive. And terminal. But for now, she’s holding her own and I’m just grateful for every holiday we have together.”

  Shame made Haley look away.

  Lisa was a warrior. Everyone knew it. She fought the good fight for herself and others.

  Haley barely made it through the days, seeing to this, worrying about that. And with only five years’ difference in their ages, shouldn’t she be more like Lisa? Stoic? Strong?

  “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”

  “Thanks, Lisa.”

  The Wednesday vendor crew arrived just then. Haley exchanged greetings with them. She read the excitement in their eyes, their voices. There were two buses due midmorning before the drivers transported their passengers to lunch at The Edge, the Langley family restaurant overlooking the valley. The later buses were lunching at Spragues’ Maple Farms in nearby Portville, then coming east to shop at the cooperative and historic Jamison. The success of these day trips could determine the cooperative’s bottom line. Older customers sometimes shied away from winter weather changes while driving, but they were the bulk of weekday business. Bennington Station had become a new stop on the senior bus tours and Haley didn’t want anything to mess this up.

  Her phone rang twenty minutes later. Charlie’s number flashed on the screen. “Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

  “Tyler’s sick.”

  “Sick as in?”

  “Throwing up. Fever. Glassy-eyed.”

  Haley’s lack of experience threatened to choke her. “Should he go to a doctor? The hospital? I don’t know what to do, Charlie.” Confessing that made her feel inept, but when it came to the boys, the feeling had grown familiar.

  “LuAnn says he just needs to rest, th
at there’s a bug going around.”

  “Do you think it’s flu like Les had?”

  Charlie’s hesitation said he wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll come get him. Are you at your place?”

  “Yes. I’ll keep Todd here. He seems fine, and there’s no sense exposing him any more than he’s been so far, right?”

  Except the boys shared the same bed. And they wrestled like young pups. Haley was pretty sure that if Todd was going to catch this bug, it was most likely in the works already and Charlie and LuAnn weren’t young. She couldn’t risk intentionally getting them sick. “That’s nice, Charlie, but I don’t want you and LuAnn catching this. You’ve got Jess’s family to think of. I’ll come get both boys.”

  “I’m sorry, Haley.”

  Charlie’s disappointment reflected hers. Despite her well-laid plans, the workings of the day were once again out of her control.

  “‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.’”

  The Proverb mocked her. She did trust, but her work ethic made it tough to walk away when so much depended on her presence. Good sales. Strong rapport with these day-tour companies.

  She keyed the intercom and called a quick vendor meeting. Two of the merchants didn’t come up front, but Haley had no time to hunt them down. Not with poor Tyler’s tummy problems.

  “I’ve got to leave.”

  Was it her imagination or did several vendors look relieved?

  “Tyler is sick, he’s throwing up and I can’t leave him with Charlie Simmons like that.”

  “Of course not.” A murmur of agreement riffled through the group of shop owners.

  “Lisa, can you stay late again?”

  “Sure.” She nodded from her place at the back of the group.

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m in,” called out another vendor.

  “And if it gets too crazy, Viola and Twila said they’d rather be working than sitting home.”

  “Really?” Haley had tried so hard to be conscientious of the vendors working timeshares that she never thought that some of them might prefer working to not working. “Can you call them if it gets busy?”

 

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