by Jill Kemerer
“Let what go?” Her words came out barely above a whisper. What was in her eyes? Fear?
“Let go of the guilt. Neither of us can change the past, so let’s move forward without all the baggage.”
“But I—”
He held his hand up. “An accident led you to tell me about Macy. God worked it out.”
“Tom, I don’t deserve—”
“None of us do. None of us deserve anything. You know the Bible verse where all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God? It means all of us. We all have sinned. Me included.”
She rubbed her biceps. “That’s not what I meant.”
He stepped closer. “I know what you meant. I forgive you, okay? For everything.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by two more, and Tom fought the urge to brush them away with his thumb. He didn’t trust himself to touch her. Not now. Not after admitting all that.
She sniffed, turned to him with shining eyes, took his hand in hers and held it. Nodding, she squeezed. But didn’t let go.
Side by side, holding hands, they watched the sun dip below the horizon in a flaming display of color.
Chapter Nine
Fat snowflakes drifted outside the window. Stephanie sipped her tea and ignored the form on the computer screen. So many hoops to jump through to apply to these graduate programs. Time-consuming hoops. And she didn’t have time to waste. Not with final papers due for two of her classes and the holidays almost here.
Speaking of the most wonderful, stressful time of the year... Christmas music blared from the television, and Macy bounced on the couch with her doll on her lap and her backpack by her side.
“When’s Daddy going to be here?” she asked for the fifteenth time.
Stephanie craned her neck to see the oven clock. “Ten minutes.”
“How long is that?”
“Long enough. If you’re bored, you can come color next to me.”
Macy sighed, sliding off the couch in a puddle of listlessness. “Don’t wanna color.”
“I know, I know.” Stephanie smiled. “What do you two have planned today, anyhow?”
“I don’t know, but I hope we play horsey. I’m the princess and I get to ride on Daddy’s back to save the bunny.”
Stephanie bit back a laugh. Interesting game. No doubt who came up with that one. “Oh, yeah?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What happens when you save the bunny?”
“Daddy throws the mean dragon out the window, and we cel’brate with a tea party. Uncle Bryan is the dragon. He roars real good.”
Tom’s reserved brother, Bryan? A dragon? Wonders never ceased. She tried to picture him playing and found it wasn’t hard at all. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It is. Uncle Bryan promised he’ll still come over and be the dragon when Daddy gets his new house.” Macy lay on her back, kicking her legs against the couch. “Where is Daddy? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”
“He’s getting a new house?” Stephanie tilted her head, studying Macy. She must have gotten make-believe mixed up with reality.
“With a big yard and a swing set and a room just for me.” She jabbed her thumb into her chest. “I’m a big girl now. I can have a sleepover soon. But Daddy has to get the house first. There’s no place for me to sleep ’cept the stinky couch.”
Stephanie spun back to face the laptop screen, her mind reeling. Tom was buying a house? Had he assumed she was dropping her plans for graduate school and Florida? Why else move out of the bungalow he shared with Bryan?
A house. Macy wasn’t ready for sleepovers, no matter how enthusiastic she sounded. Stephanie’s pulse beat faster.
It’s not fair. All the things I want to give my daughter, he can give her. Without a thought. I would love to have a house, but it will be years before I can even think of buying one.
The intercom buzzed and Macy raced to it. “He’s here!”
Stephanie didn’t turn or rise when he came inside with his usual exuberant greeting for Macy, who hung back. “You’re late, Daddy. Don’t ever do that again.”
Frowning, he pushed his sleeve up to check his watch. “Three minutes?”
Macy stomped off to her room.
He shrugged. “Hi, Steph. What’s up with her?”
“She’s been ready for an hour.” Her tone was accusatory, but she didn’t care.
“Excited, huh?” He looked over her shoulder at the laptop. “Working on a project?”
“Yes.” She shifted her legs to face him. Envy slammed back in. She’d blame it on his perfect life to match his perfect face. And why did he smell so good? Infuriating. “Macy says you’re house hunting.”
“I am.” His voice was smooth. Like him.
She straightened her back. “Did you assume we’re staying here? That I’m not considering Miami anymore?”
His eyes darkened. “I’d like it if you stayed here. I think you should stay here. But, no, I want my own place.” His lips drew into a thin line. “Are you working on any other applications besides Miami?”
“Come on, Daddy.” Macy appeared at his side, pulling on his jacket sleeve. “You’re here to see me.”
Stephanie whipped back to the computer screen.
“I’m here to see you and your mom.” His tone contained a hint of steel. Then he leaned near Stephanie’s ear and whispered, “Wherever you go won’t stop me from being in Macy’s life.”
The next thing she heard was the click of the door shutting. The heat in her veins turned to slush. She hadn’t even said goodbye to Macy. She ran to the door and threw it open. They were already down the first steps, holding hands, and Macy looked over her shoulder and waved. “Bye, Mama.”
Stephanie’s heart twisted. “Bye, Macy. Love you.” She blew her a kiss, but Macy already faced forward.
Replaced.
Stephanie slunk back into her apartment, leaned against the door and slid to her knees. Her entire apartment was on display. Tiny. A bitty dining area to the left barely fit a table for four, the living room had been overtaken by their small artificial Christmas tree, the couch and the lone chair.
The walls were white once upon a time, the carpet old and stained, and—
She let out a sob.
This apartment wasn’t good enough for her baby. She sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, and let the tears fall.
Tom had so much to offer Macy, much more than her.
Another sob erupted from her chest. Tom claimed he wouldn’t let Macy out of his life, but he’d let Stephanie go without so much as a whimper. He’d refused counseling, barely listened to her and wouldn’t budge an inch.
What did she expect? Him to love her again? He loved Macy—anyone could see it. Stephanie had no doubt he’d fight tooth and nail to see his daughter, fly to Florida on weekends if necessary.
But he couldn’t even show up for a movie when they were married.
Sure, he could say how he had happy memories of their marriage, but that’s all they’d been. A few good times, and he’d gotten over her. Probably in a month.
And as much as she tried to pretend otherwise, she’d never gotten over him.
* * *
“I like the fact it has two stories and a big yard.” Tom carried Macy up the porch steps of the still-under-construction brick home. Dad followed, and Reed, Claire’s husband, opened the door. Reed and Dad had developed the new subdivision outside Lake Endwell, and this was one of three houses they’d built on speculation.
“We added some nice architectural details, but you’d be able to pick your finishes. Flooring, cabinets and all that. This model has an open floor plan. Wait until you see the lot, Tommy.” Dad’s enthusiasm colored his words, and he surged inside the house. “The walking trail
leads right to the lake. You have lake access, too.”
Tom stopped in the foyer and set Macy down. She hugged her stuffed kitten to her chest. “Why’s it so dusty?”
Dad tweaked her ponytail. “If your dad buys it, we’ll clean it up good for him.”
“But, Papa.” Macy craned her neck to take in the huge unfinished space. “There’s no carpet or couches. And where’s the TV?”
He laughed. “This house isn’t finished yet. You bring your furniture in when it’s all done. What do you want with a TV, anyhow? You don’t like cartoons, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Turns your brain to mush. Come on—I’ll show you upstairs where the bedrooms will be.” He held Macy’s hand and led her up the curving staircase, keeping her between the wall and him, since no handrail had been installed yet.
Reed handed Tom a piece of paper with the specs and layout on it. “What do you think?”
Tom scanned the information, then stretched his neck to see up the two-story entryway. “So far I like it. Why don’t you show me the rest of the place?”
“Your formal dining room is to the right. Leads to the kitchen. There’s an office to the left. It’s not big, but it’ll have a nice view of your front yard. Did you notice the cul-de-sac? It’d be perfect for Macy to ride a bike around. No traffic back here.”
Tom pictured Macy pedaling in circles on the bike he was buying her for Christmas, streamers fluttering out of the handlebars. He continued through the hall, passed the framed walls of a half bathroom and stopped in the living area. Windows lined the back wall, showing off a spacious backyard surrounded by trees. Private. Big.
“This is great.” Tom poked around, impressed with the size. “I see you’re putting in a fireplace on the far wall.”
“You could choose if you want stone, brick, tile, whatever.” Reed showed him the kitchen, an empty space at this point. “Picture a large island here. You could fit four stools easily.”
Tom nodded. “I’d like to see upstairs. Three bedrooms, you said?”
“And a bonus room. It could be a playroom.”
They made their way upstairs, checked out what would be the master suite and the rest of the bedrooms, then returned downstairs. Dad chased Macy in a game of tag. Her giggles filled the air.
“You said this has a basement, too, right?” Tom asked Reed.
“It does.”
“Good. I’d want to finish it before moving in. I need a gym down there.”
“Wouldn’t be a problem, Tom. In fact, I could put you in touch with a designer I know who specializes in home gyms.”
“How big did you say the yard was?” Tom slid open the back patio door and stepped onto the grass.
Reed checked his spec sheet. “Half an acre. There will be a patio where you’re standing, and, of course, the property will be landscaped. What do you think about the place?”
Tom rubbed his chin. He thought it was perfect. But the dregs of the weird interaction with Stephanie that afternoon lingered. What had made her short-tempered? And why was she so intent on moving to Florida?
“It’s a big place, Reed. I like it. A lot. I’ll have to think about it, though.”
“Sure. I’ve been trying to convince Claire to move out here, but so far I haven’t been able to budge her.”
Tom laughed. “Get my sister out of her cabin on the lake? That will be the day.”
“I know, I know.” Reed shrugged. “But if we’re going to start thinking about a family, we’ll need more room.”
“Are you telling me something?” Tom searched Reed’s face for any hints Claire might be pregnant.
“No. But we’re thinking about it.”
“That’s great, man. You two would be good parents.”
“How’s parenting been for you?” Reed tilted his head, concern in his eyes.
“I love it. Having Macy in my life has made all the difference. She’s—well, she’s got me wrapped around her finger, I guess, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“What about her mom? You two getting along?”
Tom sighed, kicking at a piece of gravel by the door. “Most of the time. She’s surprised me. But I still don’t know if she’s moving next year or not. I’m trying to talk her into staying.” She’d left him once. What was keeping her from leaving again?
Reed frowned. “You could try to block her from going. Get a court order.”
He shook his head. “Not my style, Reed. We’ll work it out.”
“You still want a big house here in Lake Endwell if Macy won’t be around?”
“Good question.” His chest broadened as he studied the backyard. If Stephanie left, he’d be rambling around this huge house by himself. But he would get Macy sometimes—he’d make sure of it. A week at Christmas. A couple weeks in the summer.
Not enough. Even the few hours he had on weeknights and Saturdays weren’t enough.
He drew his eyebrows together as it hit him. He wanted Macy all the time. Every day.
But he would never take her from her mother.
So Stephanie had been on edge, high-strung, earlier. It wasn’t like her. Maybe she was thinking of Macy’s best interests, too. Staying in Kalamazoo wasn’t her dream—he knew it.
Tom glanced over at his brother-in-law. “Don’t be like me. Work extra hard on your marriage. I love Macy, but sharing her is hard on both Stephanie and me.”
Reed rocked back on his heels. “I don’t know what happened, so tell me to shut up at any time, but she never remarried. You act like the women around here are invisible. Any chance of you two getting back together?”
He almost choked, but the idea wasn’t foreign. The minute he’d stepped inside this house, he could picture Stephanie here. Could see her brushing Macy’s hair. Bending over a computer keyboard in the office. Sipping a mug of coffee on the front porch. Lounging on the nonexistent patio. Maybe she’d turn the music on. This time he’d pull her to him, dance with her. Make her feel special. Loved.
Except they weren’t in love.
Tom put his hand on Reed’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “No.”
He didn’t have the personality to make her happy. He made her miserable, without even knowing it, once. Wouldn’t make her miserable again.
Chapter Ten
As the final strains of “Silent Night” filled the church Christmas Eve, Stephanie closed her eyes and bowed her head.
Heavenly Father, thank You for sending Your perfect Son to be our Savior. For bringing Tom back into our lives. He’s wonderful with Macy. Every little girl should have a dad like him.
She opened her eyes, her throat thick with emotion. Macy had fallen asleep on Tom’s lap. Her red ruffled dress, courtesy of Aunt Sally, bunched up by her knees, her ringlets smooshed against his dark dress shirt and wine-colored tie. Stephanie glanced at his hands holding Macy tightly. Strong hands. Tender, too.
Macy had spent the day with him and his family. Stephanie declined the invitation to join them. Her first Christmas Eve alone. Utterly alone. No Dad, no Macy, nobody.
And it had been all right.
In fact, she’d needed the time to wrap Macy’s presents and to finish up her gift for Tom.
The lights came back on, and the congregation shuffled outdoors. But she and Tom stayed.
“Tom?”
“Hmm?” He must have been deep in thought.
“It was generous of you to come to church with us. You could have had more time with her, you know.”
“I know.” He tightened his hold on Macy. “But church on Christmas Eve is a good tradition, and candlelight services remind me of Granddad and growing up.”
She nodded, but the unspoken words wouldn’t come out. He could have taken Macy to his own church in Lake Endwe
ll with his family, and he’d chosen instead to bring Macy home and attend with her. She placed her hand on his arm. “This was the nicest Christmas gift you could have given me.”
He juggled Macy to scoot out of the pew. She didn’t wake, simply rested her cheek on his shoulder. “You let me have her all day. Couldn’t have been easy on you.”
“It was the least I could do. You’re letting me take her to Florida the rest of the week.” They joined the line of people in the aisle. “I appreciate you working around my classes next semester, too.”
“It doesn’t matter to me what days I have Macy, as long as I have her.”
“It saves me a lot of hassle. I usually don’t have night classes. I would have had to find a babysitter Tuesdays and Thursdays, and now I don’t. Thanks.”
After shaking the pastor’s hand and greeting the other worshippers, they continued down the concrete steps. A light snow fell, swirling around the parking lot. Tom settled Macy into the booster seat in his truck while Stephanie sat in the passenger seat. When he started the engine, she snuck a peek at his profile.
And wished she hadn’t.
He was a beautiful man. Physically and spiritually.
“Why didn’t you ever get remarried?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Jingle-jangle Christmas music played from the radio station, matching her wobbly state of mind. His stunned glance brought heat to her cheeks.
“Why didn’t you?” He backed out of the parking spot and turned onto the street. The residential block boasted bright decorations of Christmas lights, white wire reindeer and wreaths wrapped in big red bows. Snow collected on the ground like frosting on the cookies she’d baked that afternoon.
“I asked you first.” Besides, she didn’t know how to answer. She’d had many reasons over the years, but ever since Tom had come back into her life, she suspected none of them were true. She wanted to ask again, to dig it out of him, but she didn’t have the right.
He peeked at her. “Seriously, Steph, why didn’t you remarry?”
The striped gloves on her hands suddenly fascinated her. “I could say I didn’t have time to date or that the few men who crossed my path didn’t interest me in the slightest. I wouldn’t be lying. It’s more complicated, though.”