Maitland Maternity Christmas

by Judy Christenberry; Muriel Jensen; TINA LEONARD

  She couldn't face any congratulations. With a look of horror on her face, she jumped out of the car. Then she realized another problem. "Oh, my heavens! You let me dress in jeans to come here."

  "What's wrong with that?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.

  "I should at least be dressed in wool trousers, a cashmere twin set with a string of pearls." Didn't the man know anything?

  "I think you've watched too many reruns of Dallas, Claire. Real people don't live like that," he assured her while pulling her after him to the front door. After ringing the doorbell, he opened the door himself and entered into a long, cool foyer. The Mexican tile covered with various oriental rugs, paintings on the walls and an antique entry table was a beautiful combination.

  "Oh, my heavens!" Claire whispered.

  "Hey, it's just the entry way, Claire. No big deal." He continued to move them along, toward the back of the house.

  She didn't take another breath until they entered a huge kitchen, bright, cheerful, and, except for its size, normal. The lady standing at the sink turned and smiled at Tom. "Hi, there. I didn't hear you come in. Ready for coffee and a snack?"

  "Yeah, that'd be good. And Mrs. Dee, here's Claire."

  The woman took her hand in both of hers. "Welcome, Claire. I hope you don't mind if I call you Claire?"

  "Of course not," Claire assured her.

  "Good, sit at the breakfast bar and we can chat while you eat. I've still got some work to do for the buffet."

  As Claire sat on a tall kitchen stool sipping coffee, she actually began to feel at home with Mrs. Dee. Tom was putting away a lot of food while they talked, and she watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Does he always eat like this?" she finally asked.

  Tom looked up. "Hey!" he protested. "Someone ate my lunch today."

  Claire had completely forgotten that part of her day since so much had already happened. "Oh! I'd forgotten that. I'm so sorry, Tom. Didn't you order another lunch? You said you would."

  Mrs. Dee nodded to Tom. "Shame on you, Thomas."

  Claire looked at each of them puzzled.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're sweet. But you've got to not let this guy take advantage of you. He may have missed lunch but it was because he knew he'd fill up over here. He didn't suffer any."

  "But Mrs. Dee, he did give up his lunch for me. Even after I interrupted him in the middle of the day." Thinking about her behavior now, Claire was embarrassed.

  "But, dear, it's a man's job to take care of his loved ones." The housekeeper continued preparing a vegetable tray, as if Tom had only done what he was supposed to do.

  But Claire knew better. Tom's behavior since she'd come back from the weekend had been more than patient. Incredibly so.

  Suddenly a dynamic man entered the kitchen and stuck out his hand toward Claire. "Well, well, this must be the incredible Claire, my future daughter-in-law. Welcome to the family!"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tom cringed and clenched his hands together to keep from choking his father. "Uh, Dad, I told you - "

  "I know," Hugh protested with easy charm, charm that wasn't going anywhere with Claire. "You told me nothing was settled, but how could she resist you, son?"

  Claire slid off the stool and said, "Sorry, if I - I really should go. It's nice to have met you."

  She turned to Tom, as if she expected him to show her the front door.

  "You're not going anywhere," he said roughly. "You promised."

  "But Tom, obviously your father has expectations that - " She broke off when he put his hands around her waist and lifted her back on the stool.

  "My father, in his misguided way, was trying to sway your decision." Tom stopped and glared at his father again. "Besides, he's one of those parents that can't imagine anyone being able to resist his offspring."

  Hugh shrugged. "Well, it's true, they can't. You've always had success with - "

  "Dad! Your conversation is not helping!"

  But some of the tension eased from Claire. "Hmm, I think his conversation is just getting interesting." A smile flirted with her lips.

  Tom smacked those same lips with his. "Nope, that conversation isn't going to happen."

  "Oh, so you do have things to hide?" Claire teased, before remembering she'd decided to walk away from the man. She quickly ducked her head.

  Tom grinned. "Absolutely nothing...as long as you don't talk to my family."

  Both Hugh and Mrs. Dee laughed but Claire only smiled. Then she turned to Tom's father. "I'm helping Tom out with your party, but I'm not joining the family. I'd love to stay to decorate, but not if it makes you uncomfortable."

  After a quick look at Tom, Hugh smiled. "Not at all. We're delighted to have you.

  And I hope my mistake didn't embarrass you."

  Claire politely assured him she was fine. Tom looked at his father. "Is Megan coming?"

  "No, she already had a commitment. You know how busy everyone is during the Christmas season."

  Tom nodded with a grimace and dragged Claire off to the living room where the tree had been delivered earlier.

  He hadn't wanted to start in that room because it had a formality that might've put her off. There were several conversational groupings, each around a large oriental rug. The walls had several remarkable pieces of art and the crystal lamps were museum quality.

  Claire stopped beside one of them, barely touching the lamp, and said, "Is this an actual Tiffany lamp?"

  "Mmm-hmm. What do you think of the tree?"

  She turned to look at the Scotch pine that stood in the corner. "Why, it's huge! How ever will you decorate it?"

  He grinned. "Very carefully!" After eyeing it a minute longer, he said, "I'm going to get a couple of ladders. You find Mrs. Dee and ask her to help you bring down the ornament boxes. And see if she picked up some candy canes today." And he hurried away.

  The house itself was incredible. Claire had been able to forget that for a few minutes chatting with the housekeeper in the kitchen. But now, staring at the antiques and beautiful furniture in the living room, she again felt completely out of place.

  Her gaze kept returning to the big green tree standing in the corner. Since she'd had her baby Christmas had never been the same. She'd told herself it was because she was an adult now. She shouldn't expect magic. It had been a holiday she'd celebrated as little as possible.

  These people with their money and their beautiful home, truly went to a great deal of trouble to celebrate Christmas. She supposed it was easier for them because they could just hire someone to do it all, but she didn't think that's what they did.

  She heard the sound of a door closing somewhere. It reminded her that Tom expected her to retrieve the boxes of ornaments. Not wanting to be thought lazy, she hurried back to the kitchen to help Mrs. Dee.

  In the kitchen, she discovered Diane and Whitney with Mrs. Dee. "I didn't hear you come in," she exclaimed, puzzled.

  "Oh, we came in through the garage," Diane assured her. "It's actually started raining."

  "Oh, I had no idea it was going to rain." "I was hoping for snow," Whitney added.

  Even Mr. Blake laughed at that wistful hope. "I think you'll need to move farther north to have a white Christmas."

  "Maybe I will," Whitney said.

  "You can choose a college up north," Diane suggested. "I know several good ones."

  "But it will be difficult with twins," Tom added softly, from the doorway where he stood with two ladders leaning against the wall.

  Diane glared at her brother. "She hasn't decided yet!"

  "I know. But I want her to be realistic." He really hadn't meant to come across callously. Tom was concerned for what was best for all.

  Claire suddenly remembered Tom's suggestion that they become the parents of Whitney's twins. Her gaze glued itself to Whitney's stomach and a longing she hadn't expected surged in her. "Uh, do you know if you're having boys or girls?"

  "Boys," Whitney said with a twist of h
er lips. "I wanted girls."

  Claire actually clutched her hands together to keep from reaching out to touch the precious burden Whitney carried. "The sex of the babies doesn't matter much."

  "Either one's a lot of work," Mrs. Dee added softly, not looking at Whitney. She started to say something else, but Tom frowned at her.

  Claire looked first at Mrs. Dee and then Tom, who was still standing by the door. He was trying to be sensitive about Whitney's situation.

  Tom interrupted her thoughts. "Did you get the ornaments?"

  "Oh! No, I came in here and discovered Diane and Whitney and - and I forgot," she explained.

  "Boy, some assistant you're going to be," he claimed with a grin. Then he shouldered the two ladders and headed to the living room.

  Mrs. Dee said, "The boxes are behind the purple-striped settee in the corner. Just go pull them out and show him how efficient you are," she directed with a smile.

  Claire thanked her and, followed by Diane and Whitney, she charged after Tom. As he set up the two stepladders, she and Diane got out the boxes. Then she said breathlessly, "Here they are!"

  "Good. Thanks," he murmured, as if his mind were only focused on the tree.

  Diane removed the cover from one of the boxes. "Oh! This is my box. Come see, Whitney!"

  Claire found a grocery sack filled with large candy canes, ready to be put on the tree. She loved peppermint and knew the candy canes would be her favorite part of the decorations.

  "Stop inhaling the candy canes and come help me straighten out the lights," Tom ordered, smiling at her. "They have to go on first. Then the angel. After that, it's a free-for-all."

  "Isn't Suzanne coming?" Diane called from where she was sorting through ornaments.

  "Yeah. I think she's bringing her fiance and his daughters. Said they'd enjoy decorating the tree."

  Diane looked smug. "I got them together."

  Tom gave her a brotherly look. "Then I hope it doesn't turn out to be a disaster. Matchmaking can be tricky."

  "I know, but they seem perfect together," Diane said, her tones serious.

  Claire thought about her childhood. How much she'd wanted a sibling. How much she'd wanted a holiday table with family and friends gathered around. Instead, it was always just the three of them. Her father eager to get to the television set, her mother wanting to get the mess cleaned up. And her.

  "Okay, Claire. I'm going to climb the ladder, and you hold up the first part of the lights so I can put them in the branches," Tom directed. She did as he said and in a few minutes the huge tree was wrapped in lights.

  Tom climbed down. "Now, for the test!" he announced, as if he were presenting a magic show. Claire held her breath, wanting his work to be perfect.

  She shouldn't have worried. The entire tree was covered with small, white twinkling lights, like distant stars in the universe. She clapped her hands together. "Oh, Tom, you did a perfect job! How beautiful!"

  Tom hugged her. "Just what I want, a lady who thinks I'm perfect."

  His sister's derisive laughter didn't even phase Claire, who received his kiss without protest this time. The front doorbell, a huge sound that rang through the house, broke them apart.

  "What's that?" she asked.

  "It's our gong. Quaint, isn't it?" Diane asked with a grin. "When I had to ring the doorbell to get in because I was late, I dreaded hearing that noise."

  "I can imagine." Claire shuddered.

  Hugh Blake appeared to introduce his oldest daughter and her guests. Claire had met Suzanne before and while she'd heard about Suzanne's fiancé, she'd never met him or his daughters. He was handsome, tall, and clearly adoring of Suzanne. His four-year-old daughters - Kimmie, Fran and Edie - were dressed in matching red dresses, and their hair in identical ponytails. Triplets.

  Claire stared at them, delight on her face. She couldn't wait to get close to them.

  "You're just in time," Tom called. "The tree's ready, and it's hard to hold this crowd back."

  For the next half hour, chaos reigned, with side trips to the kitchen for snacks. Claire was glad to see that no one ate in the living room, but they all moved freely, uninhibited by their surroundings.

  And the tree began to take shape. As each of the Blake children pulled out a favorite ornament, he or she told the newcomers about it and why it meant so much. It was an illuminating recital of family history that seemed so rich to Claire. She helped Tom hang some of his. He enlisted the triplets to help him, too.

  The tree was being trimmed to perfection. Just when Claire thought it needed nothing else, Tom stepped in front of her, a wrapped gift in his hands.

  "What's this?" she asked, puzzled.

  "Open it, you'll see."

  Much to her embarrassment, everyone in the room stopped to watch her. When she lifted the lid, embossed with a famous crystal company's name, she discovered a baby Jesus in a manger.

  "Hang it on the tree, Claire," Tom urged, giving her a little push toward it.

  Claire stared at the baby, tracing its cuddly shape with her finger, knowing Tom had bought the ornament because of her own baby, giving her permission to let her baby share in Christmas. Tears filled her eyes so she could scarcely see the tree. "Tom, I can't see - "

  He stepped to her side and wrapped his arms around her. "Come on, Claire, I'll help." He guided her fingers to an empty branch and slipped the ornament on it. "There. Now you have part interest in our tree, too," he whispered, kissing her cheek. They backed away from the tree to admire it all.

  Hugh passed out the candy canes to the little girls and they began hanging them on the tree. But their height put them at a disadvantage. So Hugh, Tom and their dad each lifted the little girls high in the air, amid shrieks of excitement, so they could hang the candy canes higher.

  Just as they finished, Mrs. Dee carried in a silver tray with silver punch cups filled with warm apple cider. Hugh strode to the tray and lifted a cup. "A toast to Christmas," he announced. "Everyone get a cup."

  After a few minutes, they were ready. He lifted his cup. "To Christmas, a joyous time of the year to bring family close, to remember the good times, to create better ones for the future, to give thanks for the blessings given. Amen."

  Soft Christmas music played in the background. Tom took Claire's cup from her hands, then wrapped his arms around her. Together they stared at the beautiful tree before them.

  Claire, for the first time in fifteen years, felt all the things Christmas was supposed to make one feel. Her heart swelled with love and thanksgiving, and she felt like singing.

  One hand stole up to caress Tom's cheek. He kissed her palm and pulled her tighter against him.

  This moment would forever be a place of joy in her heart.

  Tom held Claire close. He prayed she would see how perfect they were together. Christmas had never meant as much to him as it did tonight, with her in his arms.

  But they had some rocky times ahead of them. He asked her if she was ready to leave. She nodded, but she wore a surprised look on her beautiful face. But he had to get her alone so they would talk again about her decision.

  Once they were in the car, he began.

  "Claire, the men you've dated, did they break up with you?"

  She looked at him in surprise.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Did you break up with them, or they with you?"

  Silence fell, as if she were counting back. Finally, she said, "I usually broke up with them. Why? What does it matter?"

  "I've been doing some thinking. I'm wondering if you're punishing yourself for giving up your child. If your decision isn't about your dream, but about your feeling you don't deserve to be happy."

  She turned to stare at him, shock on her face. "I don't - I couldn't avoid giving away my child. My father made me!"

  "I know that. And I think you believe that, but I'm not sure you've forgiven yourself for not being able to do something about it."

  "What are you, a damn psychologist? You
don't know what you're talking about!" she exclaimed, but he noted tears filling her eyes.

  "Don't I? Your dream is a nice one. But not logical. I think you could do even more good by giving a loving home to a child who doesn't have one. Trust me. I saw and got to know many kids who would love to have you for a mom. You're so loving. Wouldn't that make more sense? Making up for one child losing his home by taking in another one? You're too smart not to have thought of that."

  "I don't see it that way." But she didn't face him.

  "I'm not trying to upset you, Claire. But I love you and I want us to have a future together. I don't think you'll let yourself be happy until you find your son and make sure he's happy."

  "What if he isn't?" Her voice was shaking and he definitely knew tears were falling.

  "Is that why you haven't tried to find him? Because you were afraid of what you'd find?"

  She slowly nodded, still staring out the window.

  "So you're giving up on life? You're giving up a chance at happiness? Don't you think you ought to show a little more courage than that?"

  They'd reached her apartment by now. She turned to glare at him, tragedy on her face. Then she opened the car door and ran for her apartment.

  "Claire! Wait! I didn't mean - " He got to her door about ten seconds after she'd slammed it shut. "Claire," he called through the door. "I'm sorry. I wanted to force you to think, to fight for our future. I didn't mean to hurt you!"

  No answer. He'd blown it. Tomorrow morning he'd call her. Maybe she would have forgiven him by then.

  Claire finally stopped sobbing and sat up on her bed. Why had she cried so bitterly? Was it because he'd made her feel like a coward?

  As if probing a wound, she examined her reaction to that suggestion. She wasn't happy that he thought her a coward, but it didn't bring tears to her eyes.