All I Want for Christmas

by Gina Wilkins

  Max was startled. “You aren’t still grieving?”

  “No. Not the way you mean. But it still makes me sad when I think that Ricky died so young, so tragically. That he didn’t live long enough to leave anything behind. Nothing but a few beautiful memories for the people who loved him.

  “I made myself a promise then that my own miraculous survival wouldn’t be wasted. I worked out a life plan for myself, and then I started following through with it. I wanted to travel, to make a little difference in the world, to own my own business. And I wanted a family. Someone to leave behind when it’s my time to go, knowing I raised them with the same values and principles my parents instilled in me.

  “I’ve accomplished quite a few of my goals,” she continued, still boldly meeting his eyes. “In a relatively short time, I’ve done many of the things I dreamed of doing when I finished school. I still have quite a few career goals, a few more places I’d like to see and experience—but the most important dream of all hasn’t yet come true. I was beginning to wonder if it ever would. Then Pip and Kelsey came into my life. And they need me. I can’t help wondering if they’re the family I was meant to have all along.”

  Max felt his chest tighten. He drew a deep breath, but it didn’t help much.

  He heard himself speaking almost before he knew what he was going to say. “When I was twenty-one, my best friend and I went off on an expedition to climb a mountain in Mexico. There was an accident on the way up. A rope snapped. My friend—Juliana’s brother—was killed. I almost went with him.”

  “I take it you didn’t come away from your near miss with the same lessons I learned,” she said, her voice a bit husky with reaction to his stark words.

  He shook his head. “I told myself I wasn’t going to waste a minute of the time I had left. It looked to me like life was too short to get tied down with a lot of plans and goals that I might not even live to accomplish. Dan—my friend—had a lot of plans. A new career, a fiancée, dreams—all gone in the snap of a rope. My father had a lot of dreams, too. He gave them up for the path of respectability and responsibility. He died at fifty-eight of a massive heart attack, after forty boring, unfulfilling years.”

  “And what are your dreams, Max?” she asked quietly.

  His mouth twisted. “I don’t have any. But at least I’m still alive.”

  “Are you?” She stood without giving him a chance to answer. “You’d better go. It’s getting late.”

  11

  THAT NIGHT, Max couldn’t stop thinking of that tragic time in Mexico, when he’d dangled from a broken rope on the side of a mountain, desperately scrambling for a foothold, knowing his friend was dead. He’d been scared then, more frightened than he’d ever been before or since.

  Until now.

  He felt the future looming ahead of him, as scary and uncertain as the abyss that had stretched beneath him on that mountain. Now, as then, he fought going into it, afraid of what awaited him if he let go of the present.

  Could he walk away from Ryan and the kids?

  Could he stay, taking a risk that he would never free himself if he did?

  He could so easily picture Ryan with the children—making a life together. Planning a future for the three of them.

  They would get along just fine without him, he was sure. But was that what he wanted?

  He was aware of the loneliness of his silent apartment as he hadn’t been in a long time. The loneliness of his life.

  Oh, he could fill the emptiness. There were any number of women he could call who’d be happy to keep him company for a few hours. A few days. A few weeks. Until he tired of them, or they of him, at which point they’d part without regrets, without a backward glance.

  He couldn’t walk away so easily from Ryan. Something about her had already gotten a firm hold on him.

  Was this love? The emotion he’d spent a lifetime avoiding?

  If so, it was no wonder they called it “falling” in love. He found it every bit as frightening as being on the verge of falling off a mountain. He was beginning to wonder if it was every bit as permanent.

  MAX KEPT HIMSELF scarce again during the week that followed. Ryan thought in exasperation that he was making her dizzy with this on-again, off-again behavior. Honestly, for a big, brave, macho sort of guy, Max Monroe was the biggest coward she’d ever met. Just talking about commitment made him turn pale and hide.

  She still missed him.

  The children came to the shop with her after school on Wednesday, since their baby-sitter was Christmas shopping that evening. Pip settled into the office with his homework, while Kelsey made a production of straightening the dolls on the shelves.

  “I miss Annie,” she said with a faint sigh as she came to the spot where the doll had once rested. A delicate Japanese doll was displayed there now, her almond eyes flirting over the top of a tiny, delicately painted fan.

  Ryan had shown Kelsey at least two-dozen dark-haired, dark-eyed dolls during the past week. The child had politely admired all of them, but said that none of them was the same as her Annie. Ryan wished she knew what had been so special about that particular doll—which, she’d learned to her chagrin, was no longer in stock with the manufacturer. She still blamed herself for her carelessness in letting it get away.

  Essie Smith called again on Thursday. Ryan answered the phone. She recognized the woman’s voice with a sinking feeling. “When will you be here?” she asked.

  “Probably on Saturday,” the children’s aunt replied glumly. “I’ve had a lot of things to take care of. Are the kids okay?”

  “They’re fine. We’ve been having a wonderful time.”

  “That’s good. Have you, uh, told them about Opal?”

  “No. I thought maybe you would want to do that.”

  “Lord, no!” Essie sounded disturbed by the very possibility. “I don’t know them well enough to give them news like that. It would probably be better if you did it. Whenever you think the time is right.”

  Ryan massaged her temples. Maybe it would be better for her to tell them, she thought. But, oh, how she dreaded it!

  “Have you—have you made any decisions about them?” she asked Essie tentatively. She was hesitant to discuss her own wishes over the telephone, but she needed to know if Essie Smith had been making arrangements for the children without her knowledge.

  “No, not really. I’ve been thinking about it, though. If there was only one of them—the little girl, you know?—it wouldn’t be so bad. A single woman like me could handle that. But a nine-year-old boy, now that’s a different story. I don’t know how I’ll manage with both him and the girl.”

  “Pip’s a very good little boy,” Ryan felt compelled to say defensively. “He’s no trouble at all.”

  Realizing that she wasn’t exactly arguing in her own interests, she stopped and drew a deep breath. “We can talk about this more when you get here, okay? Call me when you arrive and I’ll arrange to have you picked up at the airport.”

  “All right. Do you know any social workers around there I can talk to? Maybe someone who knows something about finding a foster family for the kids?”

  “We’ll find someone,” Ryan promised, feeling a renewed surge of hope. If Essie was willing to place the children in a foster home, maybe she would be more receptive to Ryan’s request to adopt them.

  She intended to show the woman that she could provide a good home for the children, to demonstrate that they already loved her and she them. She could only hope Essie had enough familial feeling to want the children to go to someone who cared for them as deeply as Ryan did.

  She couldn’t help wondering if Max would be around when Essie Smith arrived.

  MAX CALLED THAT EVENING, just after Ryan had put the children to bed. “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she answered, wondering why the sound of his voice always turned her knees to jelly. “How’s it going with you?”

  “Fine. And the kids?”

  “I just put th
em to bed. Kelsey has the sniffles. I hope she isn’t coming down with something.”

  “Did you check her temperature? Have you called a doctor?” Max sounded genuinely concerned.

  “She’s not running a fever. And, no, I haven’t called a doctor. It’s only the sniffles, so far. Maybe that’s all it will be.”

  “I bought her a gift today. A big stuffed bear that makes this weird giggle sound when you hug it. I thought she’d like it for Christmas.”

  Christmas, Ryan thought. Heavens, it was only ten days away! She hadn’t done any shopping; she’d been too busy.

  Would she still have the children with her when Christmas morning dawned? Oh, how she hoped to be with them then!

  As though he’d read her thoughts, Max asked, “Has their aunt called?”

  “Yes, she called this afternoon. She said she’ll be here Saturday. I told her I’d have someone pick her up at the airport.”

  “I’ll do it. Let me know what time.”

  Ryan hadn’t really expected him to volunteer. She’d thought she’d ask Nick. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I want to talk to her.”

  “You won’t say anything about my hopes to adopt them, will you?” She didn’t want to sound ungracious, but neither did she want Max to confuse the issue with Essie Smith.

  “Of course not. I’ll let you handle that. I just want to see what she’s like. Maybe I’ll tell her what a great job you’ve done with the kids and how crazy they are about you.”

  “Just don’t overdo it.”

  “I won’t overdo it,” he promised, sounding ruefully amused.

  “Essie wants me to tell the children about Opal,” she said. “I haven’t done it yet. I didn’t really know how to bring it up. When do you think I should tell them?”

  “They’re going to have to know soon,” Max said after a moment. “Would you like me to be with you when you tell them?”

  This new offer was the most surprising yet. Ryan would have expected Max to avoid a discussion of that gravity with a vengeance. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “It’s not going to be easy, is it?”

  “No. It’s not. And I’d appreciate your help. We can tell them tomorrow evening.”

  He assured her he would be there. “What else did Essie say about the kids?”

  “Word for word?”

  “Yeah. Word for word.”

  Ryan drew a deep breath, trying to remember. “Something like…if there was only one of them—Kelsey, preferably—it wouldn’t be so bad. A single woman could handle raising a little girl alone. But a nine-year-old boy makes it different. It would be harder to manage taking care of both the kids alone.”

  “She wasn’t talking about just giving Pip up for adoption, was she?” Max sounded appalled by the possibility. “Keeping Kelsey for herself?”

  “I hope not,” Ryan said grimly, having worried about that prospect all afternoon. “If so, I’m going to have a very long, hard talk with her. I hope to change her mind.”

  “You’ll have to make her see that it just isn’t an option. Not with those two. But maybe it would be best to worry about that when the time comes. It won’t do any good to get all steamed up about it now.”

  “No. I just want to be prepared.”

  He spoke briskly again, changing the subject without preface. “Tell me about your day.”

  She tried to follow his rapid change of mood. “What about it?”

  “Everything. Sales figures, funny things that happened to you, weird customer stories…whatever you want to tell me. Let’s talk about us for a change, shall we?”

  Us. Ryan found it one of the most seductive words she’d ever heard. Even though she tried to tell herself it hadn’t really meant anything.

  STRICKEN, Pip stepped away from the living room doorway, holding his breath and tiptoeing so that Ryan wouldn’t know he was there. He’d come out for a drink of water and had paused when he’d heard her voice.

  He hadn’t at all liked what he’d overheard.

  “…If there was only one of them—Kelsey, preferably—it wouldn’t be so bad,” Ryan had said. “A single woman could handle raising a little girl alone. But a nine-year-old boy makes it different. It would be harder to manage taking care of both the kids alone.”

  Afraid that she would spot him, he’d backed away before she could say any more. He’d heard all he needed to hear.

  Ryan didn’t want him, he thought as he walked mechanically back to the bedroom he shared with Kelsey. She thought it would be too hard to raise two kids, especially him.

  Just like his aunts, and like Aunt Opal’s boyfriend, Ryan found him too difficult. Too stubborn, maybe, he thought sadly, remembering the displeasure he’d expressed when he’d found out she’d hired a baby-sitter to watch him and Kelsey in the afternoons.

  He wished now that he’d kept his mouth shut.

  He paused by Kelsey’s bed, looking down at the innocent face illuminated in the soft glow of a night-light. She was sleeping soundly, her little mouth slightly parted, her ragged bear in her arms. So content.

  Kelsey looked really pretty in the lacy white nightgown Ryan had bought her. It was trimmed with blue ribbons. Kelsey had said in awe that it was the most beautiful nightgown she’d ever seen. Ryan had laughed and hugged her and promised to buy her several more in different colors.

  Pip understood why Ryan loved Kelsey. Who wouldn’t? Kelsey was probably the prettiest, sweetest little girl in the whole world. That was why Pip had always wanted to take care of her, to make sure she had everything she needed and most of what she wanted.

  Like parents.

  He’d found Ryan for her, and Kelsey couldn’t be happier. She’d told him just today that she hoped Aunt Opal would never come back, so they could stay with Ryan forever and ever. Pip had told her it wasn’t very nice to talk about their aunt that way, but he’d secretly agreed.

  He’d been happy here, too. Had been able to really relax for the first time since his mom and dad had died.

  Now he had to leave. Kelsey didn’t need him anymore.

  He’d made the decision in the few short minutes it took him to walk from the living room to the bedroom. If he stayed, he would spoil Kelsey’s chance of having a real home here with Ryan.

  Maybe—Pip swallowed hard—maybe with Max, too. Max was nuts about Kelsey, of course. His eyes got all soft and warm every time she smiled at him.

  Pip didn’t know where he’d go, but that was okay. He could take care of himself.

  Maybe he’d find a job. He’d been helping Ryan out a lot at the store—unpacking boxes and sweeping the floor—whenever she’d let him. He had experience.

  He swallowed and blinked back a film of tears. Leaving here was going to be hard. Really hard. But, for Kelsey, he would do it.

  He leaned over and softly kissed his baby sister’s cheek. “Be happy, Kelsey,” he whispered. “Merry Christmas.”

  YAWNING, Ryan padded barefoot out of her bedroom, belting her terry robe at her waist. Her brain was taking a while to kick in this morning.

  It was time to wake the children and get them ready for school—a typical morning in this new routine she’d suddenly found herself living. She smiled sleepily, quite content with the situation.

  She noted at a glance that Pip’s bed was empty. He must be in the bathroom, she thought, or already preparing his breakfast in the kitchen.

  He was so accustomed to taking care of himself.

  She touched Kelsey’s shoulder. “Kelsey? Honey, it’s time to get up.”

  Kelsey squirmed against her pillows, murmuring a sleepy protest.

  Smiling, Ryan gave her a little shake. “Come on, sweetie, open your eyes. You have to get ready for school.”

  Kelsey sighed, opened her eyes, blinked a couple of times, then smiled. “’Morning.”

  Ryan leaned over to kiss a warm, sleep-flushed cheek. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I dreamed about Christmas.”

&n
bsp; “Did you?”

  “Santa Claus was there. The nice Santa Claus from the mall, not that grumpy one who rings the bell at the corner.”

  Ryan chuckled. “Sounds like a nice dream. Would you like to wear your black-and-green sweater with black jeans today?”

  When Kelsey agreed, Ryan pulled the clothes out of a drawer and laid them at the foot of the bed. “I’ll have your cereal ready when you’re dressed.”

  “’Kay.” Kelsey had already disappeared behind her soft white gown as she tugged it over her head.

  Ryan noticed on her way to the kitchen that the bathroom door was open, the room empty. She pushed open the kitchen door, smiling brightly. “Good morning, Pip. You’re up early….”

  She paused, frowning curiously, when she noted that the kitchen, too, was unoccupied. There was no evidence that anyone had been in there that morning. “Pip?”

  She retraced her steps—living room, bathroom, hallway, the children’s room.

  Kelsey was just snapping her jeans. She looked up in question. “I’m hurrying, Ryan.”

  “Have you seen Pip?”

  Kelsey glanced automatically toward his empty bed. “No. Isn’t he in the kitchen?”

  “No.” Ryan went into her own bedroom. No sign of him. “Pip?” she called, loudly enough to be heard anywhere in the apartment.

  There was no answer.

  She returned to the children’s room. His bed was definitely empty. She even bent to look beneath it, and then, for some reason, in the closet. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  “Where in the world…?” Starting to panic now, she hurried back into the living room. The French doors leading to her tiny, fenced courtyard were locked, the courtyard empty. The front door was locked, too, but the dead bolt, the one that required a key, was unlatched.

  Ryan opened the door and looked out into the hallway. She saw no one.

  Closing the door, she pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to think what to do. A scrap of note paper on a lamp table caught her eye. She snatched it up.