A Mom for Christmas

by Lorraine Beatty

  He didn’t even try to hide the groan, but he tempered it with a wary smile. “What is it?”

  “I need a giant nutcracker.”

  “What?”

  She hastened to explain. “It doesn’t have to be elaborate or anything, but it needs to be about eight feet tall and about three to four feet wide.” She rotated the tablet so he could see her sketch.

  The design looked like an actual nutcracker with tubular arms, a tall hat, full body and long legs ending in boots on a platform. “Beth, that would take weeks to construct, not to mention the time to figure the angles, the amount of wood and other materials.”

  “I thought you were a structural engineer?”

  “I am.”

  “So make a structure.”

  Her eyes twinkled, and he realized she was teasing him. “Very funny. Now what do you really want?”

  “A big nutcracker, but it can be a one-dimensional flat one. Eric will paint in all the details, but it’s an important prop because it’ll be the one your daughter will be dancing around.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Beth clutched her tablet to her chest like a protective shield. “Since we’ve lost our Clara, I’m going to replace her with three Clara’s. Abby, Hannah and Chloe.”

  Not what he’d expected. He shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “As you pointed out, we only have one week until opening night. I’m improvising. Besides, I know the girls will love the idea. Please consider letting Chloe be in the number. It’s only one performance, not a lifelong contract.”

  She had a point, but what if she got a taste of performing and liked it? He met her gaze, trying to ignore the hopeful glint in her pretty eyes. He knew once his daughter heard the idea, there’d be no way he could tell her no. “All right.” He pointed to the tablet. “How soon do you need it?”

  “The sooner the better. Thank you, Noah. For letting Chloe dance and for the prop. Is it all right if I call her now?”

  “Sure.” He nodded, then watched her hurry off. He needed to figure out when he’d lost control of his life.

  Chapter Nine

  Noah stared at the sketches Beth had emailed him of her nutcracker idea. One, a complicated three-dimensional one. The other, a simple flat one in the shape of a nutcracker. With so little time left until opening night, he really didn’t have time to do more than cut out the shape and get it back to the theater so Eric could paint it.

  However, what he wanted to do was surprise Beth with the giant nutcracker she’d teased him with. He could imagine her shock and delight when he brought it into the theater. Ideas on how to create it had started forming in his mind from the moment she’d suggested it. He’d worked out a simple design, but he’d have to rely on Eric to make it look realistic.

  He had plenty of lumber, and the rest he was hoping to find in the storage shed. When it came to building materials and supplies, Gramps had been a pack rat. He believed sooner or later he’d find a use for all the things he’d saved.

  Pulling the shed key from the hook beside the door, he let himself in, heading toward the large assortment of poles, pipes and other odd-shaped pieces. After selecting a small plastic box, several lengths of PVC pipe and a bucket, he set them beside the door. As he reached for the string to turn off the light, a small wooden object caught his attention. His treasure box.

  It was the size of a shoe box. His gramps had built it for him as a Christmas gift when he was ten. He and his parents had been living in Florida at the time, and he’d been fascinated with pirates and wanted a place to keep his valuables. Over time the box had held a variety of important items. His throat thickened as he thought about the last items of value he’d placed in the box. Slowly he raised the lid, his gaze zeroing in on the small white box in the middle. Beth’s graduation gift to him. His hand shook as he reached for it. What had she written on the back? She claimed it was nothing but a friendly sentiment.

  The oddly shaped emblem on the key ring glinted in the light when he removed the lid. Nestled upon the white batting inside was what he could clearly see now was a heart, shaped as if it had been gently tugged to one side, distorting its shape. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, then flipped over the charm, his breath catching as he read the words engraved there.

  Noah, every time you touch this you’ll be touching my heart. Love, Beth

  Love? He read the words again, trying to understand. The sentiment was from someone who cared—deeply. Not a casual friend. Had she cared? Had she loved him?

  His gaze landed on the other small box in the chest. The gift he’d selected for her. Beneath the blue box was a faded paper. His speech. The one he’d never gotten to deliver.

  Noah gripped the key ring in his palm, wrapping his fingers around it and feeling the sharp edges dig into his skin. What did he do now? Did he tell Beth and ask her what she meant? Did he dare hope that she’d been confessing her love for him that day? Or was he reading too much into a few simple words?

  Even if she’d meant the words, even if she’d given him the gift and revealed her feelings, when the call from Forsythe had come she would have gone anyway. Dancing had been her whole life then. Still was.

  He didn’t have the energy to try to figure it out now. Shoving the key ring into his pants pocket, he gathered up the materials and headed back to the shop. Working with his hands was a good way to sort out his thoughts and come to a decision.

  Or even better, avoid one.

  * * *

  The sun was barely up the next morning when Beth switched on the lights in her small studio. Sleep had been impossible. Dark and disturbing dreams had awakened her several times during the night, leaving her shaken and filled with a chilling sense of abandonment. Her body ached, and the thought of doing her exercises and ballet warm-up dragged her down. She didn’t have the energy for either. But she would do them just the same.

  She pulled off her jacket and changed into comfy pants and a tank top before starting her physical therapy exercises. She ran through them with ease, then moved to the mirrored wall, intending to begin her ballet warm-up. She stopped, a hard knot lodging in her throat as she stared at her reflection. Why bother? Her life as a professional ballerina with the Forsythe Company had ended with a swipe of a pen.

  She’d met with Blake Prescott yesterday, the family attorney, and gone over her contract, ultimately deciding to terminate her association with the ballet. She had nothing to gain by holding out the last two months. It was a scary prospect, and she suspected her decision was the cause of her nightmares. She had no idea what she would do going forward.

  But for now, she would go through her ballet warm-up. It’s what she did when she hurt or was lonely or confused. She danced. Some people sought solace in a bar. She found it at a different barre.

  Pushing the play button, she started her favorite CD of praise music. The familiar songs gave her a measure of comfort, and allowed her to reconnect with the artist she’d once been. The opening strains washed over her as she grasped the barre and prepared, acutely aware of the alignment of her hips, legs and turnout. Slow tendu. First position. Demi plié and stretch. Four-count relevé...

  The warm-up was so engrained into her muscle memory that it had become a struggle to hold back from throwing herself into it fully. Her knee wasn’t ready for a grande plié, but she was close.

  At thirty years old, she was well aware she was entering the last phase of her career. She was also aware of the younger dancers waiting in the wings, eager to jump into her place. She refocused on her warm-up. Plié, eleve, point toes, front, back, side, change position. It was as natural as breathing. She raised her arm, letting it float on the air with the music as she stretched. It felt so familiar, so right. She missed it so much.

  An hour later, drained yet exhilarated, she d
owned several gulps of water and smiled at her reflection. She’d pushed it a little more today. The pain was easing with each workout, and she felt herself growing stronger.

  Fueled with confidence, she decided to try a little center work. Stepping to the middle of the room, she balanced, positioned her arms and raised her right leg out to the side, only to wobble and lose her balance. Three more tries only led to frustration. The sense of lightness and control she always experienced was missing, replaced with a feeling of clumsiness. Nothing was the same anymore. Not her body, not her proficiency level, not even herself.

  Taking a moment to collect herself, she started toward the small sofa, her gaze landing on the pair of worn pink pointe shoes hanging on the wall. Gently she took them in her hands, overcome with poignant memories. They were her last pair before she’d left for New York. The ones she’d worn as she’d practiced for her audition to the Forsythe Company. She’d danced her very best, but it hadn’t been good enough. Until another position had opened up, and her prayers had been answered and her dream realized.

  Beth sank down onto the small sofa, her fingers stroking the worn satin. She’d left Dover with wings on her feet. She’d worked harder than anyone, rising through the ranks from corps de ballet to demi-soloist and eventually principal dancer, achieving everything she’d set out to.

  Noah’s question reverberated in her mind. But what had it cost her? A friend who felt rejected. A mother who’d needed to hear from her daughter, a family she’d barely seen since she was eighteen. The memory of Chloe’s sorrowful expression when her mother had failed to live up to her promise surfaced. Is that what her mother and father had experienced? Sadness and disappointment?

  Leaning back against the cushion, she clutched the shoes to her chest as stark realization forced its way into her mind. This wasn’t about dancing, this was about her. The truth about her life was coming to the surface, forcing her to confront her sins and shortcomings.

  When had she become so indifferent to others’ feelings?

  She knew the answer. It had been that night she’d left Dover. Realizing Noah didn’t love her had shaken her foundation. From then on, becoming a professional dancer had changed from being a dream to a necessity, a way to prove her worth to herself and to him.

  Once she left Dover, her life had been all about becoming the best dancer she could be. Living her dream. She had shoved everyone aside in her drive to succeed. There’d been moments when she’d looked up and realized she was alone. No close friends, a family far away, no special someone. But then the dance would call, and she’d plunge into it and forget everything else.

  Her dad had always stressed faith first, but she’d never really understood what he’d meant. She was beginning to now. She was coming to see that she’d placed things in her life in the wrong order. A swell of shame and regret formed deep inside. Her life was out of balance.

  Her mom was right. She’d been holding on to something that was never going to happen. She had to change. If she didn’t, she’d end up chasing everyone in her life away—again. She didn’t want to lose Noah or Chloe. They’d become too much a part of her life now.

  Did she have the courage? She couldn’t do it alone.

  She looked at the middle of the room. A few moments ago she’d tried to balance on her good leg without support. It should have been easy. But her body was out of balance, too. She needed the barre to steady her. And she needed something more than her own determination to balance her life. She had to reset her priorities. Put God first. His hand should be what she grasped for security, not the wooden beam against the wall.

  Lord, forgive me. I don’t want to be that person. Help me find a way to reconnect with those I love and balance my life. I want You first in my life.

  Her dream was over. She had to face it. God gave her what she dreamed of, but He never said it would last forever.

  Clutching the shoes to her chest, she grieved the passing of a dream.

  * * *

  Beth stood onstage the next night, staring in disbelief at the giant nutcracker Noah had delivered that evening. She’d been expecting a flat in the shape of a nutcracker. Instead he presented her with a three-dimensional eight-foot version, complete with tall hat, round arms and legs, and a square wooden body on a rolling platform. The sections were a mismatch of materials, but Eric could transform it into a spectacular sight. “When did you do this? It’s amazing.”

  He grinned, his eyes bright with pride. “I realized it wouldn’t be all that difficult to make a large one if I used PVC pipe for arms and legs and kept the body square. Once I started, it took on a life of its own. Of course, Eric will have to use his skill to make it look like an actual nutcracker.”

  “You put so much work into this. Thank you. This is going to transform the entire number.”

  He shrugged, his expression revealing his embarrassment. “Well, it is my daughter’s shining moment after all.”

  Unable to contain her delight, she slipped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. As she pulled away, her attention landed on his mouth, only inches from hers if she shifted just a bit. Heart pounding, she moved her hand from his shoulder to his jaw. It was warm and strong and slightly scratchy from end-of-day stubble. She dared to look into his eyes and saw her own desire reflected in the blue depths.

  It hit her then that they were standing in the open, where anyone and everyone could see them. She swallowed, tucked her hair behind her ears and stepped back. “Thank you, Noah. It’s amazing.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He held her gaze a moment, searching her face. “You’ve changed.”

  She frowned, glancing down at her outfit. What was he talking about?

  “You look different. Your eyes aren’t shadowed anymore. Your smile isn’t restrained. What happened?”

  Was her transformation so apparent? But then, Noah would notice things like that. Perhaps this was the opening she’d been waiting for. The time to have a talk about what really had been going on in her heart back then. “You’re right. Something has changed. Maybe we can talk about it after rehearsal?”

  “I’d like that. I have something to tell you, too. And I have some questions.”

  Questions? That dimmed her mood a bit. But once they sat down and talked it out, she knew things would be better, and hopefully they could admit the attraction between them and move forward. After all her soul-searching the other night, there’d been one more truth she’d had to face and accept. She loved Noah. Always had. Always would.

  A knot formed in her abdomen. What about now? Was she just seeing what she wanted? Was this attraction only on her part?

  Beth carried the warmth of Noah’s touch with her the rest of the rehearsal. Their relationship had changed over the last weeks. Working together on the show and the props had eased them back into their comfortable friendship. More importantly—and disturbingly—the attraction between them had heated up. Her heart was already in danger, but now the sparks between them were zinging whenever they were close.

  Noah stopped at her side, his smile warm and affectionate, his blue eyes filled with tenderness. “May I walk you home?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Outside, Beth pulled her coat a little closer. The weather was unusually cold for southern Mississippi. Thankfully the forecast called for a warm-up tomorrow. She didn’t mind the chill, especially when Noah took her hand in his.

  “Thank you again for the wonderful nutcracker. It’s amazing.”

  “This is an important holiday event. A guy shouldn’t skimp when his three favorite women are involved.”

  “Three?”

  “Gram, Chloe and—” He squeezed her hand. “You.”

  She couldn’t misunderstand the tone of affection in his voice or the look in his eyes. Now would be a good time to tell him about the inscription. But
where did she start? “I’m glad you let Chloe do the number. She’s very excited, and she’s working very hard to learn the routine.”

  “She practices at home all the time. Every time I turn around, I’m running into her.”

  “You’re a great dad, Noah.” Inhaling a fortifying breath, she plunged ahead. “Have you ever thought about getting married again?” She sensed his surprise.

  “No. I don’t think I’m very good at the marriage thing.”

  “I don’t believe that. Any woman would be blessed to have you for a husband. You’re a good man.”

  “Charlie Brown.”

  She chuckled and moved closer to his side. “Well, you are.”

  “What about you? Why haven’t you taken the plunge? I’m sure you had plenty of chances. You must have had guys falling at your feet wanting to date the beautiful ballerina.”

  A shadow settled over her happy mood. This wasn’t the topic she wanted to discuss, but maybe it was time to share that heartache with him. “There was a man. His name was Ivan and he was a guest dancer from Russia, very charming and sophisticated. We started dating. I was head over heels in love with him, and I got carried away with my emotions. Everything was fine until I told him I was pregnant. Then he moved on to the next girl and the next city and left me to deal with a miscarriage all by myself. I never saw him again.”

  Noah stopped and faced her, pulling her into his embrace. “Oh, my Beth. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

  Beth allowed the warmth and protection of his arms to soothe her, wishing she could turn to him with her worries every day. His Beth. That’s all she’d ever wanted to be.

  “What about your family?”

  “I couldn’t tell them. I was too ashamed. I was still trying to figure out what to do when I lost the baby.”

  Noah gently set her away, looking deep into her eyes. “Is that why you left the table so suddenly on Thanksgiving Day after Abby announced the new baby?”

  She nodded. “I’m happy for them, but it only reminded me of the big hole in my own life. Sorry to dump this on you.”