Miracle Under The Mistletoe (The Foster Brothers #1)

by Tracy Madison

  Smiling cheerfully, she held out the container. “I brought some cookies for later. Should I put them in the kitchen?”

  “That will be fine. I was sure Grady said you two were coming over together,” John said, the gleam in his eyes growing brighter. “I expect he’ll be surprised to find that isn’t the case?”

  Her father-in-law had always been extraordinarily intuitive. “Well, you know. I was ready to leave and he hadn’t shown up yet. So here I am.” Balancing the cookies in one hand, and then the other, she removed her coat. “But I left him a note.”

  “Good. Glad to see you’re keeping him on his toes,” John said with a laugh. He took her coat and hung it in the closet. “Come on, let’s sit down and get reacquainted.”

  Wow. He truly seemed happy to see her. It was almost as if the past three years hadn’t happened. Dangerous thoughts to have. Thoughts she shouldn’t have. “Um…sure. Just let me take these to the kitchen.”

  “I have a better idea. Let’s take those with us. Karen’s shooed me out of the kitchen all morning, and I’m starving. I’ll get you some coffee, and we can sit in front of the fireplace. You take it light, no sugar, correct?”

  She nodded and went to wait in front of the stone fireplace. The mantel was decorated with a host of family photographs. She knew without looking that her wedding photo was one of them, as well as one of her and Grady with Cody shortly after his birth. Kicking off her shoes, she curled her legs beneath her and stared at the fire. She was not going to allow herself to become overwhelmed so early in a day that promised to be a struggle.

  John returned with coffee for both of them. She accepted hers and took a fortifying gulp. “Help yourself,” she said, nodding to the container she’d placed on the table between them.

  “Karen will be out in a bit. She’s just put the turkey in the oven.”

  “I should go help—”

  “She’ll let you and me and anyone else who is here know when she’s ready for help. But she says hi and welcome.”

  “I’m glad to be here. It’s… Well, it’s been too long.”

  John set his coffee down and cleared his throat. “I’m not the type of man who sticks his nose in where it isn’t wanted.” Leaning forward, he said in a soft voice, “I don’t need to when my wife takes care of that for me.”

  She grinned, because she knew John expected her to. “I have a suspicion that you two work quite well together.”

  “Aye. I suppose that’s true.” Her father-in-law sat straight and contemplated her. “Please forgive me for butting in this one time, Olivia. You’re just as beautiful as always, but you look tired and, if you don’t mind me saying, you’re a bit on the pale side,” he said in a gruff tone. “I’ve worried about you. We… Well, we haven’t been able to take care of you. I hope you’re taking care of yourself in our absence.”

  “I am. Or I’m trying to.” Such a sweet, sweet man. A small glow of warmth unfurled inside. She breathed in a lungful of air. “Grady isn’t making it any easier,” she confided. “But don’t you tell him I said that.”

  “Well, he’s a stubborn man. Takes after his mother in that regard.”

  “Oh, I think we can safely say some of that comes from you, too,” she teased, hoping to ease the press of emotion weighing in the air. “In fact, I’d say all three of your sons have that stubborn streak.”

  “True enough.” He removed the lid from the plastic container and took a cookie. “Pumpkin spice?”

  “Yes. I remembered how much you like them.” It was odd, baking the cookies she’d always brought to the Foster Thanksgiving, but old habits die hard. The last time she’d made them, Cody had cracked the eggs. This time…well, it was just her.

  “I was hoping you would.” John bit off a large chunk, chewed, and then said, “Have one, Olivia. You could use some fattening up.”

  A laugh slipped out, surprising her. “You said that to me the very first Thanksgiving I was ever here.” And nearly every time he’d seen her from then on. “I’m glad I came early,” she said. “I’m enjoying spending this moment with you.”

  “So am I, Olivia.”

  “You’ve always made me feel at home here,” she confided. “Don’t get me wrong, Karen and Jace and Seth always have, too. But with you…I don’t know, I guess I felt a connection to you right off the bat. It just took a little longer with everyone else.” She sighed. “That didn’t come out very well, did it?”

  “Oh, I think you did a pretty good job of it. And the feeling is mutual.”

  “I’m sorry, John. For removing myself from everyone’s life,” she said, knowing now—when they were still alone—was the best time to offer him the apology he deserved. In this instance, she didn’t feel the need to offer excuses for her behavior. John wouldn’t require them. He tended to accept people for who they were: good, bad or somewhere in between. “I hope you know I never meant to hurt anyone.”

  “I know, and thank you for the apology.” He chewed the remainder of his second cookie and swallowed some coffee before continuing. “It isn’t necessary, though.”

  “Yes, it is. For me.”

  “I understand. More than you know.” Pain and sorrow lurked in his quiet timbre. “You and me, we’re fine. I do have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Sure. If I can.”

  “Don’t forget you have family who loves you. I am quite sincere in this, Olivia. Despite what happens with my son, I will always consider you my daughter.” The front door opened, sending a blast of cold air into the room. John winked at her. “Got it?”

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she did have something to be thankful for today, after all. “Got it.”

  Grady strode into the living room from the foyer, caught sight of her and stopped. “So you are here.”

  Yep, he was annoyed. Oh, well, she couldn’t really blame him. “I’m supposed to be, aren’t I?”

  “I was supposed to pick you up, wasn’t I?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re seriously upset I drove myself,” Olivia said. “I tried calling and I left you a note. Besides which, you never said that riding with you was part of the date.”

  John pulled himself to a stand. “I’ll leave you two alone.” On his way out, he frowned at Grady. “Play nice or I’ll tell your mother.” Then, to Olivia, he said, “And you—remember that you loved him once, even if you don’t love him now.”

  John left the room, but Olivia barely noticed. She was too busy staring at Grady. He went from annoyed to impassive in two seconds flat, and his eyes…they were dark and cold. And he was looking at her as if she were a stranger. In all that had happened, she’d never seen him look at her that way. It was…disquieting.

  “I didn’t say that,” she whispered. “I don’t know why your father—”

  Grady gave a stiff shrug, as if his father’s statement meant nothing to him. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe he was finally beginning to see that memories weren’t enough to hold them together. “Doesn’t matter. If he believes you don’t love me, there must be a reason. I guess I’ll have to think about that.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong, that she had never stopped loving him, that she likely never would stop, but had second thoughts. Not because she enjoyed hurting Grady, but because professing her love at this point would be the same as leading him on. And wouldn’t that only serve to hurt him more in the long run? So she mimicked his shrug. “Believe what you want, but I’m not going to stand here and argue over it. I’m also not going to apologize for driving myself here.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” He closed his eyes for a second and pushed out a long, drawn-out sigh. “You don’t need to, either.”

  “Glad we’ve cleared that up.” She stood. “But now I’m going to go help your mom in the kitchen.”

  He looked as if he were going to argue, but the doorbell rang before he could. Talk about good timing. “That would be Samantha,” Grady said. “Why don’t you let her in, and since you obviously don’t want to be a
round me at the moment, I’ll go help in the kitchen.”

  For a day that had begun better than she’d expected, it sure was spiraling downhill fast. “This is your family, Grady. I don’t want to ruin Thanksgiving. How about if Sam and I take off? I’m sure she won’t mind.”

  “I’ll mind,” he said, his voice just this side of brusque.

  “But if having me here is going to be too difficult now—”

  “Everything is difficult with you, Olly.” He combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Every. Damn. Thing.”

  “You’re no walk in the park, either, buddy,” Olivia said, her flippant tone meant to hide her own bruised feelings. She wasn’t sure she pulled it off. The doorbell rang again, followed by two sharp knocks. “Shall I tell Sam we’re taking off?”

  “No. We made a deal, remember?”

  “Like you’ll let me forget!”

  “I have to! Why did you bother agreeing if you were going to continuously try to get out—”

  “That doorbell is giving me a headache!” Karen’s voice swept into the room before her physical form. She stopped at the threshold between the dining room and the living room, her complexion a good two shades paler than normal. “Is there a reason you’re not answering the door?”

  “It’s Samantha, Mom. We’ll…I’ll let her in,” Grady said quickly. “I can see her car from here, so I know it’s her.”

  Karen’s shoulders sagged. “See that you do. It is bad-mannered to keep her waiting while you two squabble like a couple of children.”

  “Sorry,” Olivia and Grady said in unison.

  “This is a day of thanks. I would appreciate it if the two of you could start behaving like the family we are, instead of trying to one-up each other.” With her hands on her hips, Karen glowered at both of them. “If you can’t say something nice, then keep your mouths closed. Or, if you absolutely must go at each other, do so outside where I can’t hear you.”

  Lovely. Just lovely. Upsetting her mother-in-law had not been on Olivia’s agenda. “I’m sorry, Karen,” she said again. “You’re right. We’ll behave.”

  “Yes, Mom. From here on out. Promise,” Grady said.

  Karen nodded and returned to the kitchen. When they were alone again, Grady said, “Look. I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t really care how you got here.”

  “Fine. I—I suppose staying isn’t a horrible idea,” she relented. “And it would be discourteous to leave now.”

  He dipped his head so she couldn’t see his face. Was he smiling? “Yup, that would be rude.”

  “Okay. So that’s settled.” She tried to walk past him, but he stopped her by stepping in front of her. Every instinct she had begged her to tell him the truth, that she was happy to be here, that she wished with every one of the 206 bones in her body that their lives could be different. Of course, doing so would be foolhardy, so she didn’t. “What now? Sam’s probably freezing out there.”

  And, as if Samantha could hear their conversation, the doorbell pealed. Again.

  “Will one of you answer the dang door?” Karen hollered. “Before I—”

  “We’re getting there, Mom!” Grady called out. He set his hands on Olivia’s shoulders. “One question—we had fun the other day, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then try to do the same today. Date number two, Olly.” He swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed. “After this, you’re halfway to that divorce you want so much.”

  “Right.” Halfway to the end. That should’ve been the good news, so why did it feel so horrible? “I’m counting the days.” Twisting away, she went to let Samantha in.

  “You do that,” he said from behind her. “I’m counting on us.”

  Chapter Seven

  Her hair still smelled like coconuts instead of lilacs, and it still bugged the hell out of Grady. Obviously, this was beyond stupid and nonsensical. Asinine, even. Why should he care what scent of shampoo Olivia used to wash her hair? There weren’t any clear answers. And hell, even that bothered him. He hated when he couldn’t make sense of something. Almost as much as he hated not being able to fix something.

  A lot of both going around lately. Especially where Olivia was concerned.

  The woman in question was currently playing a game of UNO with his mom, dad and brother. She was smiling, laughing and apparently having a great time. Which was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Yes. But he’d hoped to be a part of that equation.

  Kind of difficult when she’d avoided even standing in his general vicinity ever since their discussion—argument?—earlier. They sat next to each other for Thanksgiving dinner, but it was either that or create a fuss, which Olivia was unlikely to do in front of his family. Throughout the meal, she’d barely spoken to him. Everything she said had either started with “Pass the” or “You’re welcome.”

  “You’re behaving like an imbecile.” Samantha smacked him on the knee to get his attention. They were sitting in the living room, supposedly watching a television program. “You and I both know she hasn’t stopped loving you. Your father was probably trying to wake her up. Or you. Or both.”

  “Maybe.” Grady stood to add another log to the fire. When he returned to the couch, he said, “Probably. But that isn’t what’s bothering me.”

  “Then what is?”

  “She isn’t using the same shampoo,” he muttered. “And I’ve always taken care of her car, but she took it somewhere else to have the tires changed.”

  “I see,” Samantha said, completely straight-faced. “Yes, both of those things should cause you great concern.”

  “They are! And I can’t figure out why—” He stopped, looked at Samantha’s expression, and sighed. “Ah, I see. You’re showing your sarcastic wit, aren’t you?”

  Samantha snorted. “What do you think? So what if she changed her shampoo? Maybe her stylist suggested it, or maybe she got a great deal, or maybe it was a gift, or maybe she felt like a change. Women do that. As to the car…I’m sure that was more about asserting her independence than anything else.” Scooting forward, Samantha picked up her glass of white wine. “So, what else you got?”

  “She’s been telling me for months that she’s changed, that she isn’t the same woman I married. I’m starting to believe her.” Frustration pooled in every syllable. “You spend more time with her than I do. What do you think?”

  “Like I said, you’re behaving like an imbecile.” Samantha gave him a look filled with pitied humor. “You’ve changed, too. Hey, guess what? I’ve changed since you two were married. Everyone in this house has.” She smacked his other knee. “It’s called life.”

  “Right, and that’s what I thought she meant. But I don’t think so, Sammy.” He looked toward the dining room again to be sure Olivia was focused on the game. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’m beginning to think that the core of who she is has changed. And I don’t mean the obvious. Cody’s death changed the way I look at life…hell, the way I look at everything. But I can find joy in my memories of him. She can’t. It’s as if life has lost all meaning for her. And that scares the hell out of me.”

  “If that were the case, she wouldn’t get up in the morning. She wouldn’t be able to hold a job. She wouldn’t take care of herself.” Samantha shook her head. “She’s still the same girl inside that she always was. She’s fighting hard to make peace with…with fate, I guess. She’s just…lost, and trying to make sense of something that is impossible to make sense of. It’s up to the people who love her to show her the way.”

  “And God knows I’ve tried. I don’t know, Sammy. Today certainly isn’t turning out as planned.” He shifted away from Samantha. In case she was rearing up to hit him again. “Maybe I’m holding her back. Maybe I’m making it more difficult for her to find peace.” He cursed under his breath. “Hell, maybe it’s time I listened and gave her the damn divorce.”

  “You might very well have to, but not today. Not tomorrow, either.” She clicked her nails against the
side of her glass. Looked at him as if trying to make her mind up about something, and then shrugged. “She came to my office on Monday…in an official capacity.”

  Hearing that had about the same effect as getting beat across the head with a two-by-four. In other words, it woke him the hell up. “Why?”

  “Remember, I said ‘official capacity,’ so I can’t tell you. But I will say that if you’re unhappy with the current status of your second date, then why are you sitting here moping?” Angling her head toward the dining room table, she continued, “I have never known you to walk away from anything. So…I don’t know, Grady, get in there and change things.”

  “Any ideas on how?” Grady grabbed Sam’s hand a millisecond before it made contact with his thigh. “Why do tiny little blonde women think it’s acceptable to pummel a man with their tiny little fists?”

  “Because we grew up defending ourselves from groping hands,” she replied with a grin. “But point taken. As to your question, how much do you love her?”

  “So much that—” Breaking off, he closed his eyes for a second to find the right words. “I love her enough to walk away if that is what she needs. I love her enough to give up my happiness in exchange for hers.”

  “Aw, Grady, you’re breaking my heart.” Samantha reached one hand toward him. He tensed, sure she was about to smack him again. Instead, she laid her palm on his cheek. “She doesn’t think she deserves your love anymore.” Then, holding her hand up to stop the question she somehow knew was coming, said, “No. She’s never said that to me so bluntly, but it’s the truth. And I don’t know why she feels that way. If I were going to give you any additional advice, I would suggest trying to figure out why she might have that mind-set.”

  Grady had nothing to say. He couldn’t imagine why Olivia would feel that way. Sammy had to be wrong. Hadn’t he told Olivia over and over that he loved her, that he would do anything in his power to reconcile? It was much more likely that Olivia believed he didn’t deserve her love. And hell, if she felt that way, what was he going to do?