Emilie's Christmas Love

by James Lavene

  "I'm sorry." It wasn’t hard to miss the wistful note in her voice when she told him. "I think you would have made someone a good mother."

  She smiled and quick tears rimmed her eyes. She hid her face against the child in her arms, inhaling the sweet smell of her.

  Nick closed his eyes for an instant and counted to ten. If he was any clumsier with this woman, he wouldn't be able to have a conversation with her at all. He'd never had a problem talking to women before. It seemed he was doomed to look like a fool with her.

  Adam whistled through the hole between his teeth, bored with the adult conversation. "Can we go now, Uncle Nick?"

  "In a minute."

  "Caring for both of the children must be difficult."

  Nick rolled his eyes. "Difficult doesn't really begin to handle it!"

  Adam shuffled restlessly. Emilie knew from his movements that he was getting ready to cause some trouble. She'd taught his age group long enough to know that they weren't good at sitting still and listening to adults talk.

  "I’m ready to have a break," Emilie said. "Have you had a Slushee yet? I've heard they're pretty good."

  "I haven't had one." Adam glanced at his uncle from under his long dark lashes. "Uncle Nick said they were too messy."

  Emilie frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  "That's okay," Nick interrupted quickly.

  "I could come with you and help with the baby," she volunteered.

  "How could I refuse that generous offer?" He was aware of a wistful catch to her voice. He might not be good at talking to her, but he was beginning to understand her.

  They emerged from the booth and walked through the crowded halls towards the refreshment area in the cafeteria.

  "Maybe you should help Adam." Nick looked at her skirt and sweater. "The baby's a little messy."

  "That's okay." She hugged the little girl closer and tickled her tummy. "I think we can manage."

  Nick went for the Slushees while Adam waited with Emilie and the baby. He returned with four icy drinks, three cherry and one grape. He sat beside Adam after giving out the three cherry Slushees to the others.

  Emilie and Adam staring at him as he tasted his drink. "What?"

  Adam glanced at his teacher. "We were trying to decide if Amber liked grape or cherry. There's only one way to know for sure."

  "Could I borrow your Slushee for a minute?" Emilie asked Nick.

  He looked between her and his nephew, liking the brightness of Adam's eyes. "Okay. What's up?"

  "Here." Emilie handed him the two cherry Slushees. "Okay, Adam, you have to help me here. We have to watch her face."

  "Okay," he said seriously, watching his sister's face with the intensity of a scientist looking for a distant comet.

  Emilie held the Slushee cup to Amber's mouth and the little girl put out her pink tongue, licking the flavored syrup from the top. She smiled and put out her tongue again.

  "That's the grape." Emilie gave the Slushee back to Nick and took the cherry drinks.

  "This is where we tell the difference," she confided to Adam.

  "Yeah!"

  Emilie held the cup to Amber's mouth and the girl licked some of the red syrup. Amber opened her mouth wide and tried to swallow all of it at once. A large portion of it fell into Emilie's lap and Adam laughed.

  "I think she likes the cherry best, Miss Ferrier," he told his teacher.

  Nick grabbed for some napkins and tried to get most of the cherry Slushee out of Emilie's lap with them. The red liquid had already saturated her skirt and was dripping to the floor. He rubbed hard, trying to get what he could, not thinking about what he was doing until he looked up and saw Emilie's face, as red as the cherry Slushee, beneath her green turban.

  "Sorry," he apologized with a grin, handing her another bunch of napkins. "I guess I'm used to cleaning up the kids."

  "That's all right." His hand had slipped from her thigh to the warm juncture between her legs with casual ease, pushing the cold liquid along her skin and into her panties.

  Amber was laughing hysterically. She began pulling at her dress.

  "She's got to go, Uncle Nick," Adam interpreted the little girl's gestures.

  "Oh, God." Nick glanced around the corridor. "I'm working on getting her trained. Where’s the bathroom?”

  "Let me take her," Emilie volunteered. "I'm going to need to go anyway unless I want to walk around like this the rest of the day."

  Nick and Adam escorted the two to the girl's bathroom then waited outside.

  "What's wrong, Uncle Nick?" Adam noticed his uncle slumped against the wall, shaking his head.

  "I knew I should have held Amber.”

  "Miss Ferrier didn't mind Amber spilling on her," Adam told him confidently. "She's pretty cool, huh?"

  "For a teacher." Nick shrugged, noncommittally.

  "Yeah," Adam agreed. "For a teacher."

  "She's pretty, too." Nick allowed with a sigh.

  "Yeah," Adam agreed. "For a teacher. Sammy says she has a lot of money and lives in a castle."

  "Just a big house," Nick corrected.

  "Bet she has a Corvette." Adam picked up a piece of wall decoration from the floor.

  "No, she doesn't," Nick told him. "Put that down, Adam. People have walked on it."

  Adam glanced at his uncle, seeing his gaze wasn't on him and stuffed it into his pocket.

  Inside the bathroom, Emilie wiped the cherry Slushee from her skirt with wet napkins, knowing she was going to be sticky the rest of the day.

  Amber watched her with solemn eyes after they'd finished in the bathroom stall. She kicked her feet, sitting on the counter, and grabbed at the brooch on Emilie's turban again.

  Emilie pulled back then gave a little cry as the girl fell forward from the edge of the counter, losing her balance. She managed to insert her body between Amber and the hard tile floor, but it frightened the girl anyway and she gave a loud howl.

  Nick and Adam came running through the door to find Amber lying on top of Emilie, the turban on the floor beside them. Emilie's hair spilled out of the turban and spread across her face.

  "What happened?" Nick asked.

  "She started to fall," Emilie told him breathlessly. "I moved under her. Is she hurt?"

  "No, she's just scared." Nick picked up the little girl who'd already quieted and was watching them both with luminous dark eyes. "Are you hurt?"

  Emilie pushed her hair out of her face and looked at the three pairs of dark eyes staring at her. "No, I'm fine. We were both scared, I guess."

  Nick stood Amber up next to Adam and put her hand into the boy's. Then he reached his hand down to Emilie to help her up off the floor.

  "Maybe I wouldn't be such a great mother," she whispered dejectedly, still terrified that she'd almost hurt the little girl. "I let her fall."

  Nick took her cold, sticky hands in his warm ones and pulled her to her feet. "That happens all the time. She's always falling. It's part of being a kid, I guess."

  "I guess." Emilie sighed.

  Nick looked at her and saw the first signs of tears in her eyes. "Don’t worry about it. She’s fine. You’re fine. We have to get out of here before the principal catches us.”

  She smiled a little at that. “I suppose you’re right. Thanks.”

  "I hope you got Amber cleaned up better than you did yourself.” They both looked down at her dirty, sticky hands that were still in his and she started to pull them away.

  "Just a minute, young lady," he coerced, bringing her hands to the sink quickly. "I think you'd better get cleaned up before you leave."

  "Nick—"

  Adam laughed and Amber followed suit. "Uncle Nick's cleaning her hands, Amber."

  Nick held her hands under the warm water for a moment then added a little soap and rubbed them together. He looked at her and smiled. "You're a good girl, Emilie."

  "Thanks!" She laughed, starting to pull herself back from the tears that had threatened. "I was really scared that she
was going to be hurt. If I had let her get hurt—"

  "You didn't," he reasoned with her in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "She's fine, and so are you."

  Emilie shrugged. "Except for red cherry Slushee all over me."

  "That's to be expected.” He rinsed her hands then drying them on a towel. See? Good as new."

  Emilie stared up into his dark eyes, seeing a kindness and patience there that she hadn't noticed before. Was that why his sister had left the children in his custody? Because she knew he was capable of taking care of them?

  "Can we go now?" Adam asked impatiently. "I want to go to the ball bath before we leave."

  "Sure.” Nick tore his gaze from Emilie's face with an effort. He reached down and picked up her turban, handing it to her. "I think you still need this."

  "Yes, thank you." She blinked her eyes and brought herself out of the trance she seemed to have fallen in at the sink.

  A gray haired cafeteria worker walked into the girl's bathroom. "Sorry!" she said quickly, seeing the crowd and ducked back out again.

  Emilie frowned. "We should leave before there are new, crazy Ferrier stories floating around. I try to avoid those."

  "Is that how those happen?" Nick picked Amber up and walked out of the bathroom.

  "I'm afraid so." Emilie sighed. "Someone sees something that looks a little strange and the next thing I know, the Ferriers are all crazy."

  "Must be rough." Nick tried to sympathize. He thought that the big house and the financial security could cover a lot of that for him.

  Emilie put the turban back on her head. "I know. My aunt calls it crying with a loaf of bread under your arm."

  Nick laughed down at her. "That's one way of putting it. I've never heard that before."

  "Aunt Joda has a lot of those sayings."

  "She sounds interesting."

  Amber was blowing kisses at Emilie, her shining eyes crinkling into a sweet smile.

  "I think she forgives me," Emilie told him.

  "I don't think she was that upset," he whispered.

  "Emilie?" Alain called her name from the side of the hall. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

  "Sorry. I've been helping this little girl."

  She introduced the two men and Adam pulled at his uncle's hand.

  "I have to go," Nick told her. He glanced at the well-dressed lawyer. "The ball bath won't wait all day."

  "I understand." Emilie smiled. "Thanks for the Slushee."

  "What there was of it that wasn't on you," Nick retorted with a return smile into her bright eyes.

  "I have lunch waiting," Alain told her impatiently.

  "See you later. Have a good lunch."

  Alain watched the man leave with his two children in tow. "Where did you meet him? Did you think you could circumvent the process?"

  "What?"

  Alain nodded at Nick's back disappearing into the crowd. "That's the little girl you were trying to adopt last week. The one whose guardian won't allow to be adopted by less than a married couple? Don't tell me you didn't know?"

  Chapter Six

  Emilie reluctantly switched her gaze from watching the trio to her companion. "What are you saying, Alain?"

  He ushered her into the blanket-covered tent and sat down at the table that held a bottle of wine, two glasses, and two covered dishes from a local restaurant.

  "I shouldn't be telling you this.” He grimaced. “I saw your friend with both of his kids as I was leaving Jon Stewart's office last week. Jon told me they were waiting outside. How did you know?"

  "I didn't," she replied. "I knew Nick had two children, but I never dreamed . . . are they both up for adoption?"

  "Not that it would matter," Alain told her bluntly, "because you still aren't married. As far as I know, only the little girl is being adopted out."

  Emilie stared over his head. "You wouldn't necessarily know if they were both up for adoption though."

  "That's true," Alain allowed. "I didn't think about you being interested in adopting a boy that age."

  "Not that it would do me any good, because I'm not married." She sadly repeated his words.

  "Exactly," Alain agreed without noticing her tone. "The man is adamant about there being two parents. No exceptions. Jon said that he pointed out that you could offer the girl a comfortable life and his client informed him that he didn't care if you were the Queen of England."

  Emilie studied her ringed hands that were resting in her lap. "I didn't know."

  He shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. That case is closed. Unless you want to fly to Reno tonight and get married? That would put you back in the running."

  "If I liked you a little less, I might be able to do that for the sake of having a child, but I can't. One loveless marriage is enough for a lifetime."

  “I don’t know. We like and respect each other. I think we could make it work out. We wouldn't necessarily have to live together, you know."

  She laughed. "Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but it wouldn't work. We'll have to keep looking for another child whose guardian isn't so picky."

  Alain poured them each a small amount of white wine into the two glasses. "All right. Let's eat this delicious feast so you can get back to work and I can go home and sulk."

  "At least you'll be able to take lunch off as a business deduction," she offered.

  He stared at her with steady gray eyes. "That's true. Although I think I would've liked it better if you weren't so damn sensible."

  They ate the elegant meal he'd brought; French cut vegetables sautéed in wine and garlic, warm, buttered bread and pastry shells stuffed with raspberries.

  "Alain—" Emilie’s brain was humming with possibilities.

  "Don't ask! I'm pretty sure it was a breach of ethics for me to tell you about all of this. I can't take it any further."

  "All right."

  "What are you thinking, Emilie? That because he knows you, he won't feel the same about needing both parents for the adoption? If that's it, you're probably wrong. People don't make demands like that for no reason."

  "Probably is very different from definitely," she answered lightly, her green eyes flashing.

  "Don't tell me anymore." He stopped any further conversation on the subject. "As your attorney, I'm not part of this, and as your friend, I'm advising you against getting your hopes up."

  Emilie frowned at him. "I won't involve you on this again. But don't tell me not to hope. I'm not made that way."

  He knew that was true and changed the subject. Maybe he should have argued with her about it further. He knew what she'd been through. It was difficult. He wanted to help her. His hands were tied. She'd have to find out for herself.

  He left quickly, after lunch and a hasty kiss on the cheek. The tent was crowded immediately. A long line of children waited outside to see the fortune teller. Emilie made up something different for each person, making them all laugh.

  Her mind was on Nick, Amber and Adam. Without the lawyers, without the fear of the unknown person who might adopt his niece, Emilie might be able to reason with Nick. Face-to-face. A reasonable argument from a person he knew could be a whole different story.

  What if he had Adam up for adoption as well?

  It was a terrible thing to break up a family that way. She wondered why he'd decided not to care for the children himself. His story about his sister asking him to take care of the children had touched Emilie’s soft heart.

  Had the responsibility become too much for him? Was it easier to give them to strangers than to have to put himself out for them?

  He hadn't struck her as being the type of man who would give up so easily. When they'd spoken about the children, he'd had such passion in his voice—such fire in his eyes. Maybe he thought it was for the best. How could he stand to let them go?

  The problem, she began to realize as the afternoon was coming to a close, was how she could talk to him about the situation. He'd hired a lawyer to protect himself from dealing with potent
ial adoptive parents. To tell him that she knew Amber was up for adoption would be admitting that Alain had found out who he was and had told her. Alain could be disbarred.

  On the other hand, if she couldn't find a way to broach the subject, he would adopt out that sweet little girl to someone else before she had a chance to persuade him that she would be a wonderful mother.

  Considering what he’d seen so far of her as a mother—making a mess of the Slushee and almost letting Amber fall on the floor—Emilie knew she had better think fast. She had certainly botched the opportunity to let him see her in a qualified, capable light.

  How could she possibly get Nick to tell her that Amber was up for adoption without implicating Alain?

  The answer was easier than she would have imagined.

  Bright and early Monday morning, when Adam came into class, he showed her a picture of himself and Amber and their parents.

  Emilie looked at the picture carefully, grateful that he was opening up a little. "You look a lot like your father.” His mother had been dark and solemn looking like Nick.

  He made a face. "This might be the last picture we have of me and Amber together."

  "Why's that?" Emilie wondered, not expecting his honest reply.

  "Because Uncle Nick is looking for someone to adopt Amber. He might've already found someone."

  "Really?" Her heart was pounding. She didn’t want to pump the boy for information, but desperately wanted to know if it was too late.

  Adam shrugged his thin shoulders. "He says we have to do it for my mom."

  He smiled at her and she handed him back his picture. He took his seat, stuffing the flute case under his chair. Emilie started class, the new information burning in her brain.

  How she was going to use that information was another question. She knew that Amber hadn't been adopted out as yet. Still, it was only a matter of time. She knew Nick’s reason for the adoption had something to do with the children's mother.

  What could she do?

  The question buzzed in her head all day, squeezing at her heart when she thought about losing Amber because she wasn't married.

  If she could talk to Nick about it. If she could find some way of convincing him that it would work for her as a single parent. She certainly had a lot to offer. She could even give up her teaching job to be with the little girl without having a financial crisis. Surely that should weigh heavily in her favor.