* * *
AS GOODBYES GO, it went well. A bit stilted, maybe, but that was normal, Katherine thought. Considering that she’d come very close to suggesting Gabe meet her for lunch sometime. But there was no doubt in her mind that lunch would lead to a dinner, which would lead to weekends, which would involve the twins, which would lead to complications just like this one. It had to be over. Severed cleanly and neatly. No matter how much she might regret losing the only fantasy she’d ever really loved.
For his part, Gabe said very little, listening to her efficient explanation with the same patience he’d exercised on the trip home. He pretended to believe the rationale she presented was as flawless, as impenetrable, as she obviously believed it to be. Tomorrow, he’d decide how to reassure her, how to make her understand that he would never hurt her, that he had no intention of allowing anything that happened between them to affect Abby or Andy. He wanted to tell her that he was just as scared as she was, that the thought of making a commitment to the three-in-one package that was her terrified him. The thing was, he was more terrified of not making it.
But tonight was not the right moment to tell her he loved her. It was not the right moment to say anything except a reluctant and weary good-night.
“I’ll bring Sparky and Matilda home on Monday,” he said at the door, making it seem casual and normal, as if Katherine hadn’t just outlined all the reasons he should never come back again. “And I’ll find a pet-care service for you, too.”
“That isn’t necessary, Gabe.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“You misunderstood me. I don’t want you to bring the pets back on Monday or any other day. I don’t want them here at all.”
That took him by surprise. “But what about the kids? They’ll be heartbroken.”
“The animals were only here for a day. If they’d been here when we got back tonight, it would have been harder, but they weren’t here. And in a few days, Andy and Abby will forget that the pets were supposed to come back. They may ask about them, may cry a few tears, but Christmas is in a few more days and they’ll have new toys to play with and school will start again, and by then, they’ll barely remember the dog and cat were ever real at all.”
“Do you think you can make them believe they just imagined me, too?”
She didn’t want to answer that—he could tell by the way she lowered her eyelashes and looked anywhere except at his face. “You haven’t been in their lives long enough to make a dent, Gabe. I’m sorry if that seems unfeeling, but children are very resilient. They forget easily, and Abby and Andy will forget you.”
The patience he’d clung to vanished, turning to a slow, cold and empty anger. “They might,” he said. “But you won’t. You won’t ever forget, Kate.”
Then he kissed her to make sure of it.
* * *
THE KISS SEARED her lips and Katherine’s knees went weak. She was a fool to be here, to let her arms creep around his neck, to lean into him. It was crazy to stand in the open doorway of her apartment, clinging to Gabe as if she couldn’t bear to let him go, when it was she who was demanding he leave.
Maybe, she thought. Maybe there was a way. It was Christmas, after all. Couldn’t she have one gift she didn’t have to buy for herself? Couldn’t she open one package and be surprised to find what was inside? Gabe could be that gift. He could be the gift she couldn’t buy, the surprise she hadn’t expected to find. If she could just have Gabe for Christmas, she wouldn’t wish for anything else ever again. Just him. Just his kiss. Just this little bit of reality. Just this one Christmas...
But then he put his hands at her waist and set her away from him. “And what about that, Kate? In a few days, are you going to be telling yourself that was a figment of your imagination? Do you still believe this relationship has nowhere to go?”
She swallowed hard and forced her hands to stay at her sides. “I believe, possibly...under different circumstances, maybe...we might have had a really wonderful date.”
His lips tightened, and an aching sadness filled his eyes. Or maybe, Katherine thought as his hand came up to stroke her face, the aching sadness was all her own. “I guess that’s the real difference between us, isn’t it, Kate? You want to believe we might have had a wonderful date. And no matter what the circumstances, I want to believe we might have had a wonderful life.”
Then he was gone, striding away from her, down the hallway to the elevators, walking out of her life as quickly and effortlessly as he’d walked in. She closed the door and leaned against it, telling herself she was right. She had to be right. She was sure that sometime tomorrow she’d remember exactly why it had seemed so important to be right. But for tonight, being right meant she was going to be alone...without Sparky the dog, or The Real Cat Matilda, or even so much as a single, simple Tom Ford coat fantasy to keep her company.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FOR THE SECOND night in a row, Gabe walked home from Katherine’s apartment and found Gun in the kitchen. For the first time since he was a boy, he found him baking cookies. “Thought I’d mix up some gingerbread dough,” Gun explained, without having been asked. “Remember how you and I used to make those gingerbread men and hang them on the Christmas tree? Well, I thought you could bring Katherine and the twins over tomorrow afternoon, so we could decorate the tree.” Gun glanced up long enough to wink before he returned to his stirring. “Give you and Katherine a little time under the mistletoe...if you know what I mean.”
Gabe didn’t pull out a chair tonight, didn’t feel much like standing, either, but couldn’t seem to move on upstairs to bed. “Aren’t you tired?” he asked finally, amazed, as always, by his father’s seemingly limitless stamina.
“Me? Nah.” Gun kneaded the dough with his fingers, squishing it between his knuckles like a kid. “I had a great time today. What’s wrong with you? Too much responsibility today for your normally sunny spirits?”
“Two too much.” Gabe moved to the sink and filled a glass with water, which he downed in one long swallow. “Katherine and her children.”
“That adds up to three.”
“No, that adds up to one. One family of three. And one single guy, who from now on is going to mind his own business.”
Gun scraped the cookie dough from his fingers and then wiped them clean with a kitchen towel. “I put that package from the gift shop on your bed. Figured it was my Christmas present, but I’ll tell you right now, if it’s one of those silly Santa Claus hats, you have some more shopping to do.”
“That’s for Katherine.” Gabe felt like an idiot, just remembering the silly little thing he’d impulsively picked up on one of the twins’ forays through the gift shop.
“I don’t think she’ll want a Santa hat, either.”
“Give me some credit, Dad. It’s a ceramic angel. This silly little thing with a starry halo, reaching for a star. A stupid little nothing of a gift. I don’t even know why I picked it up.”
“Must have called your name,” Gun said, paying more attention to his kneading than to the conversation.
“I foolishly imagined it was calling hers.” Gabe said it under his breath as he set the glass on the countertop with a clatter, wondering if there was any way he could change Katherine’s mind. We could have had a wonderful date, she’d said. Why had he been an idiot and not taken her up on it, then and there?
But, of course, there were the twins to consider.
The package deal.
“I’m going to bed,” he said abruptly.
“Good. Perfect place for you.”
Gabe stopped in the doorway. “Dad? Why didn’t you ever remarry?”
“Couldn’t find a woman who would put up with the both of us.” Gun hooked his finger through the cookie dough, popped a lump of it into his mouth and licked it clean, reminding Gabe of Andy and the ketc
hup. “Why? You wishing you had a mother to talk to tonight?”
Gabe opened his mouth to deny it, then shrugged. “Why would I wish for a mother, when I have such a fountain of information for a dad?”
Gun wiped his hands down the front of his Kiss the Chef or Get Out of the Kitchen apron. “I didn’t remarry because I never found a woman I trusted enough to love you as much as I did. I thought if I was happy, you wouldn’t be, and that I’d be sacrificing your happiness for my own.”
“But what made you think I wouldn’t have been just as happy...or even happier, if you had?”
Gun picked up the bottle of cinnamon and liberally spiced the cookie dough. “I always tell people that raising a kid is what made me a wise man, Junior. I never said it made me any smarter.”
* * *
ON MONDAY MORNING, Gabe sat with his feet propped on his desk, shooting rubber bands at Santa Claus. It wasn’t the real Santa, of course. Just a cardboard cutout decoration that Louisa put out on his desk every Christmas. So far, he’d knocked Saint Nick off the cardboard chimney three times. Three times out of thirty tries, which was not a great batting average.
He’d get better, though. There were still three whole days till Christmas.
The intercom buzzed, and he answered with a terse “Yeah.”
“Your ten-o’clock appointment is here,” Louisa’s voice informed him.
Gabe deadeyed Santa and took aim. “I don’t have a ten-o’clock appointment.”
“You do now.” Her tone brooked no argument. “And get your feet down off the desk.”
His feet hit the floor with a guilty thud before it occurred to him that she couldn’t have known where his feet were. She’d just made a lucky guess. Besides, last time he’d checked, he was still the boss.
But when Louisa opened his door a couple of minutes later, his feet were situated appropriately under his desk. He started to rise to greet a client, but sat again when he saw the red heads of Andy and Abby Harmon. Louisa didn’t smile, just gave him a sharp be-nice-to-them nod before she stepped out of the room and closed the door.
Gabe clasped his hands on the desk and watched the twins watch him as if they’d never been in his office before, as if they were uncertain of their welcome.
“Come in,” Gabe said, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk. “Does your mother know you’re here?”
Andy and Abby exchanged a guilty glance before nodding in vigorous unison, which meant, of course, that if Katherine caught them down here, the aftermath would not be pretty. Gabe’s hope that she had sent them ahead to break the ice died without ever taking a breath. “I suppose you’re here to cancel our contract and get your money back?”
Abby’s chin tilted alertly at that. “You’re gonna give us money?”
Andy thumped her arm with his elbow. “We brought you a present,” he said, keeping his hands behind his back as he and Abby advanced on the desk.
“A present,” Abby concurred with a nod. “But you can give back our money, too. You were supposed to find Santa Claus and you didn’t, so you can give the money back.”
“Abby.” Andy frowned severely at her. “You’re not ’sposed to say that, ’member? We don’t want to fire him.”
She pouted a little. “I want my dollar back.”
“We want the Christmas picture, Abby. Remember?”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose and shifted from one foot to the other, and it was all Gabe could do to sit still and not rush around the desk to hug them both. They wanted the Christmas in the picture. They still believed it was possible.
Satisfied he’d quelled the mutiny, Andy thrust forward a sack with the imprint of Santa’s Workshop, North Pole, New York. “Me and Abby bought this for you yesterday. It’s your Christmas present.”
Gabe leaned forward and took the sack, wondering if this was some kind of prank. But when he gingerly opened the sack, there was just a thick wad of tissue paper inside.
“We asked the lady at the gift shop to wrap it real careful so’s it wouldn’t get breaked.”
Abby nodded in perfect concurrence. “It’s a real special present, Gabe, so be careful with it.”
Inside the layers of tissue wrap was a cheap plastic snow globe, with a scene of a house set in a forest...well, not a forest, just three tiny trees, two tall and one small...but in front of the house was a miniature Santa with his sleigh and reindeer. Gabe shook the globe, and the snow scattered, swirling like magic around the little house in the picture.
“Thank you,” he said, feeling inadequate and awkward and deeply touched by the gift and these kids. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“That’s okay,” Andy told him. “Mom says if somebody gives you a present, you should give one back.”
Abby put her hands flat on the desk and lifted herself up until she could swing her feet from side to side. “So, since we gave you a present, Gabe, you should give us one.”
He couldn’t keep the tug of humor from dragging out his smile. “Did you have something in particular in mind?”
Andy nodded, his eyes sparkling with new excitement. “Me and Abby talked it over, and we want a lawyer.”
“A what?”
“A lawyer,” Andy repeated, the l sound sloughing through the gap in his teeth.
“A lawyer.” Gabe wanted to be sure he hadn’t misunderstood. “Why do you want a lawyer?”
They looked at each other, then at him, and Andy lifted a skinny shoulder in an uncommunicative shrug.
Gabe tried again. “Do you know what a lawyer does?”
Abby sighed and stopped swinging. “He argues and goes to court to get stuff for people.”
“So you want to hire a lawyer to go to court and argue and get your stuff, right?” Gabe tried to grasp the angle, but couldn’t quite figure it out. “What do you want him to get for you?”
“Stuff,” Andy said, looking at the desktop.
“Stuff,” Gabe repeated. “Who has this...stuff?”
The twins looked at each other, then at him. “You do.”
This was a nasty turn, Gabe thought. “Me? I have your stuff?”
They nodded, nearly in unison. “You’ve got Sparky and The Real Cat Matilda and we want ’em back.”
Ah, the pets. “Look, kiddos, you don’t have to get a lawyer and sue me to get your pets back. All you have to do is convince your mother to let you have them.”
Again, they exchanged a glance, then turned their innocent, anxious blue eyes back to him. “We don’t want the lawyer to argue with you.”
The puzzle pieces fell into place. “I see. You want him to argue with your—”
“Mom.” Together, they filled in the blank.
Gabe found himself faced with a twin dilemma. On the one hand, he couldn’t in good conscience encourage these kids to think it was all right to drag their mother into court over the custody of their pets. On the other hand, it might be the only way to keep Katherine from refusing a very special gift. Her past had left her scarred and distrustful of men and their commitments. His brief marriage had ruined a long-standing relationship and left him cynical about making any other commitments.
But right here, in his office, was the gift to heal them both. Abby and Andy, who didn’t yet know that love and commitment were infinitely more difficult than turning an imaginary dog and a stuffed lion into warm, cuddly animals. Andy and Abby, who weren’t afraid to believe they could have whatever they could imagine...a dog, a cat, a Christmas they could draw in crayon and wish into existence.
Gabe wanted to believe he could have the family he imagined, too. He wanted to believe that in twenty years he’d still be able to look across his desk into trusting eyes and say unequivocally, “Yes, there is a Santa Claus.”
He made up his mind and punched the intercom. “Louis
a? Get Max Costanza on the phone.”
“What do you want with that publicity-mongering ambulance chaser?”
Gabe smiled. At last, he was going to get to tell Louisa something she didn’t already know.
* * *
KATHERINE WAS PRETTY sure she was coming down with a cold. That was the only explanation for the draggy, achy feeling that had settled over her like a rain cloud. She’d gotten plenty of rest on Sunday, so she couldn’t be tired. The twins had been relatively quiet, but then, she’d made them mad early in the day with a lecture on their behavior the day before. She’d half expected Gabe to pester her with calls or unannounced visits, but the phone had stayed silent, and the only one to knock on their door had been Raymond, wanting to see how the “new pet owners” were doing.
She already regretted that decision, but it was done. And it was the right decision. The twins weren’t mature enough for the responsibility of a pet. And she certainly didn’t need another living thing that depended on her for food, water, love, and well-being. She didn’t even know why she still missed the kitten’s fuzzy face and the dog’s soothing presence.
But it was early in the week yet...only Monday and, although she’d had to come into the office for a few hours this morning, she’d made plans to take the twins to see The Nutcracker that afternoon. And tomorrow they were going to finish their shopping. And the day after, they’d put up the artificial tree. And then it would be Christmas Eve, and then Christmas Day, and by then they’d have forgotten all about Sparky and the kitten.
So would she. And she’d have forgotten all about Gabe, too. Forgetfulness was the only gift she was giving herself this Christmas...and if she knew where to buy it, she’d already have it in her possession.
Getting up from her desk, she walked out to the reception area to check on the twins. With her injured foot propped on a pillow, Janeen was reading short stories for the magazine’s summer fiction bonanza issue, and she merely glanced up as Katherine entered. Abby and Andy glanced up, too, glanced at each other, then bent their heads over their sketchpads again so quickly, it almost made her uneasy. Probably, though, they were just trying to follow her explicit and no-nonsense instructions to stay out of trouble. Which was a good thing. Really good, in fact. It had to be just her imagination that made her feel as if something not-so-good were afoot.
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