It was baffling, but he just plain liked Shannon. She was far too emotional, something he’d always avoided in both male and female friends. And he would have expected her to act like a spoiled princess given her family’s wealth, but she was down-to-earth and generous to a fault. It made him uncomfortable in ways he hadn’t expected, raising questions about the way he’d lived, the way he’d denied the deeper workings of his own soul.
The train’s power cords were hidden from view and Shannon flipped a switch on the control board. The lights of the Victorian town twinkled merrily beneath the tree.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“It’s great. You have a gift for this sort of thing.”
She had a gift for handling public relations problems, not decorating or cooking. But she could write a check and wield a credit card with the best homemaker on the planet.
“My sister is responsible,” she admitted. “Miranda is a professional decorator, and she had most of this stuff in stock already. Anything you want, she can take care of.”
“Can she take care of my big mouth?” Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Please believe me, I never meant to hurt your feelings yesterday. The truth is, I was jealous. Jeremy is the most important thing in the world to me, yet you’ve been able to reach him, when I can’t.”
The pain in Alex’s face turned Shannon’s stomach into mush. “You mustn’t worry, he adores you,” she whispered.
His mouth lifted in a brief smile. “I appreciate that, but I still can’t reach him. Why, Shannon? Why can’t I get through to my own son?”
She thought about her day with Jeremy, and the quick, almost guilty look he’d given his father when he had said he couldn’t remember his mother’s face.
“Maybe he’s trying to protect you,” she said gently.
“Protect me? What are you talking about?”
Shannon let out a breath and wondered if she was mistaken. Her instincts told her she was right, but her instincts might be wrong. Still…
“The thing is… I don’t see any pictures or keepsakes of your wife around, and you seem reluctant to talk about her in front of Jeremy. Maybe he’s decided it hurts you too much, and he’s trying not to upset you.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Problem is, those feelings don’t go away.”
“He’s a child. I’m supposed to take care of him.”
“Yes, but when someone dies, people say odd things. Things like ‘smile.’ ‘Don’t be so sad.’ ‘Be strong for your family. For your mommy. For your daddy.’”
“Damn.” Alex rubbed his face, his mind working furiously.
Could that be it?
Jeremy thinking he had to grieve in silence…the way Shannon had grieved? He gazed at her and wondered what other secrets were hidden behind her green eyes and bright smiles.
“Somebody said that to you, didn’t they?” he murmured.
She shrugged noncommittally. “Isn’t it strange that people tell you not to be sad when you’ve lost someone? Why shouldn’t you be sad when that happens?”
A long sigh came from Alex’s diaphragm.
Shannon scared the hell out of him, but he was also starting to understand how seductive powerful emotions could be. Time after time, his parents had torn each other to pieces. They should have called it quits after their first knock-down-drag-out fight, but neither one of them had been able to leave, not for fourteen years.
And he’d bet that a man, once hooked, wouldn’t be able to leave Shannon any longer than it took to turn off the lights and pull her close.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered, and Alex fought the appeal of her sweet concern.
He inhaled sharply…a mistake.
His senses were filled with the subtle perfume of her skin, a scent that teased and tempted. He’d prided himself on his control, determined to be different from his parents, but now that control was vanishing.
Alex closed his eyes and tried to summon Kim’s image, but all that came was a twinge of guilt and the warmth of a cherished memory.
No. He clenched his fists in denial. He didn’t relish the role of grieving widower, but Kim had deserved better than a husband who spent most of his nights in a foreign clime. At the very least she deserved a man who grieved for her properly.
“Shannon…we changed the subject, but nothing has actually changed,” he forced himself to say. “Seeing you isn’t good for me. Truly, it’s my problem. You’re terrific, but I don’t want to be involved with anyone. Jeremy has to come first.”
Shannon looked down, her heart aching for a thousand different reasons. She’d been drawn to Alex from the beginning, and it hurt to have him push her away. But some things were more important than her feelings.
“I agree that Jeremy comes first,” she said quietly. “But you said yourself that I’ve been able to reach him. Are you willing to throw that away? We can make it clear that we’re just friends. And we can make sure it stays that way when we’re alone,” she added.
Alex was silent for so long she wondered if he’d heard, or was thinking some dark thoughts of his own. Then his eyebrows lifted. “Friends? After what just happened?”
“Men and women can be friends without sex and romance coming into it,” she said, exasperated. She had good male friends. And while she’d never tried to be friends with a man she found as attractive as Alex, it had to be possible. Her brother, Dylan, had been buddies with Kate Douglas since they were kids before he’d finally woken up and married her.
Swell.
Shannon shook her head in disgust.
Dylan and Kate were not a good example. But she was still certain it could be done.
“We’ll just have to work at it,” she said.
“All right,” Alex agreed slowly, though he didn’t seem a hundred-percent convinced.
“Good. I’m still off work, so if you need someone to sit with Jeremy, I’m available.”
“That would be great.”
She stuck her hand out and they shook, a silly formality that should have made her laugh. But it was hard to laugh around the lump in her throat, or the tears trying to find their way to the surface once again.
“How’s that, Jeremy?”
Jeremy solemnly regarded the cup of flour Shannon held up. “It’s s’posed to be at the line.”
“Oh. Right.” She scooped some flour from the measuring cup and shook it a little. “Is that better?”
“Okay.”
She dumped the flour into the bowl with the other dry ingredients and gave the mixture a dubious look. The cookbook she’d bought claimed this was a foolproof recipe for gingerbread cookies, but she had her doubts. Nobody had Shannon-O’Rourke-proofed a recipe yet.
At least her agreement to be “just friends” with Alex meant she didn’t have to worry about him discovering she was the domestic equivalent of a shipwreck. On the other hand, she still hadn’t rushed to tell him the truth, either, particularly when he’d asked if she’d make cookies with Jeremy.
The words had stuck in her throat.
Instead of saying, “Sorry, but I couldn’t bake a cookie to save my life,” she’d agreed to his request. Worst of all, she and Jeremy were making those cookies in the McKenzie kitchen, rather than her house, so anything she broke, spindled or mutilated would belong to Alex. Fortunately, he was upstairs, looking for something, instead of sitting in the kitchen watching her make a fool of herself. But sooner or later he’d come down and see her mess up the place.
At least Jeremy looked content. He had smudges of flour on his cheeks and a smile on his mouth; it was worth a little humiliation if it made him happy. And he was so smart. He could already read words like flour and sugar and ginger, and he understood measurements.
He was also smart enough to understand the difference between really being sick, and pretending because he didn’t like the changes in his life.
“Jeremy, have you ever heard the story about the boy who cried wolf?” she asked casually.
He sho
ok his head. “Uh-uh.”
“It’s about a little boy who was given the job of watching the sheep for his village. A village is a small town,” she explained. “It was an important job, making sure a wolf didn’t come and scare the animals.”
“What was the boy’s name?”
Shannon blinked and thought furiously. She didn’t know the story that well, just the highlights and the message behind it. “I think… I think his name was… Bob.” She cringed the moment the name came from her mouth, but she was new to this storytelling thing.
“Bob?”
“Y-yes. Bobby. Bobby liked watching the sheep, but sometimes it was boring, and he wanted to get the villagers’ attention. So he’d cry ‘Wolf!’ and everyone would drop what they were doing and come to help chase it away. But when they got there, he’d laugh because they were out of breath and worried, and he knew it was just a joke.”
Jeremy darted a look at her. “That wasn’t nice.”
“You’re right, it wasn’t nice. Unfortunately, he kept doing it and the villagers stopped believing him. Then one day a wolf did come.”
“What did he do?”
She swallowed, suddenly unsure of herself. A sheep-eating wolf was a grim tale for a four year old; it might have been better if she’d asked Alex before starting the story.
“Uh… Bobby called, but no one came from the village.”
This time Jeremy didn’t even look at her; he just nodded.
“Do you understand why it was so important for Bobby to tell the truth?” she asked, brushing some of the flour from his cheek. “It’s like when you say you’re sick, except you really just want to see your daddy. After a while nobody knows if anything is really wrong.”
Jeremy’s small lower lip pouted out, then a huge sigh rose from him. “But I don’t like day-care.” He planted his elbows on the table and looked angry. “Why did Mommy have to go away?”
Her chest tightened. He’d gone right to the tough question, the question she’d asked so many times about her own father.
“I don’t know…but I know that she didn’t want to leave you.” Shannon pushed the bowl of flour and other ingredients to one side and sat next to him. Some things were more important than cookies. “Tell me about your mommy.”
Standing outside the kitchen, Alex fought a thousand different emotions as he listened to Shannon. Pain at the emptiness Kim’s death had left, love for the woman who’d been his wife…anger at life’s injustices.
And hope, hearing Shannon encourage Jeremy to talk.
Soon his son was pouring out stories about Mommy taking him to the pond to sail paper boats, about cookies and bedtime stories, and the songs she used to sing. Things Alex had thought Jeremy was too young to remember, but which had actually been carefully guarded in his heart.
Alex looked down at the picture he’d unearthed from storage in the attic, one of the rare photos taken of him, Kim and Jeremy as a family. And beneath it was another of Kim with her swollen tummy, proud and happy, just days before giving birth to a healthy baby boy.
He had to wonder if he’d hidden the pictures away to protect himself, when he’d believed he was doing the right thing for Jeremy. How long could you deny feelings you simply didn’t want to accept?
“I bet it was funny when your mother dressed up like that,” Shannon said in the other room.
Alex’s eyes widened as Jeremy giggled. “Mommy drew whiskers on her face and wiggled her nose. Just like a kitty.”
Halloween.
Kim had been terribly sick by then, but she’d made them laugh when she’d donned cat’s ears and painted her cheeks. She’d been determined to make it through the holidays, to spend that special time with her “men.” How could he have forgotten those moments when she’d pushed the dread away and let them be a family?
Fighting the tightness in his throat, Alex stepped into the kitchen and looked at Jeremy, smiling and happy, the shadows chased from his eyes as he talked about the things that he’d loved about his mommy.
Gratitude filled Alex as he turned his gaze to Shannon. He felt the inevitable throb of desire as well, but he didn’t mind it as much as usual. He’d never believed in divine intervention, yet Shannon’s fortuitous entry into their lives was enough to make him wonder about the possibility.
“Jeremy, I thought you’d like to have some pictures of your mother,” he said, determined to continue the good his beautiful neighbor had started. “You’re in this one.” He sat at the table and showed his son the one of a very pregnant Kim.
“That’s not me, that’s just Mommy,” Jeremy denied, but he gazed at the photo with growing delight.
“Nope.” Alex pointed to the bulge in Kim’s tummy. “That’s you, a few days before you were born. And you’re the reason she’s smiling. You made your mommy so very happy.”
He glanced at Shannon over his son’s head and wished he could tell her how he felt, but gratitude was mixed with other feelings, less easy to understand.
She challenged him.
Somehow he knew it was because of Shannon that he’d listened to his distraught student, instead of avoiding the tears in her reddened eyes, the way he always avoided emotional scenes. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about people, but it was easier to give money than get involved.
Shannon had gotten involved with his son because she knew what it was like to lose a parent and was willing to open that old hurt to help a child she barely knew.
“How about pizza for dinner?” he asked, his gaze still fixed on Shannon. “We’ll go over to that new Italian place that everyone says is so good.”
“Yummy,” Jeremy exclaimed.
“Shannon?” Alex prompted when she didn’t say anything.
She nudged the bowl on the table. “What about the cookies?”
“Finish them tomorrow. Unless you’re tired of us and want some time off.”
“If I get tired of you, you’ll know it,” she said, giving him one of her exasperated looks.
“Let’s go then.” It seemed only natural to put out his hand and she took it with a questioning smile. When she stood, he was surprised to see the top of her head only came to his shoulder. He kept thinking of Shannon as tall, but it was an illusion of her leggy beauty and vibrant nature.
They were friends, Alex reminded himself. Her height—or lack of it—wasn’t something he should be thinking about.
“You put on your coats. I’ll start the Jeep and get the heat going,” he said quickly.
“All right.”
Outside, he saw that clouds had rolled across the Puget Sound area. A misting rain drizzled through the twilight, so fine it was like fog shrouding the landscape. The windows clouded up the moment he got inside the Jeep, and it took several minutes before warm air began coming through the vents.
“I don’t know about this. Maybe you’d prefer staying in,” he said when he’d returned inside his condo. “It’s a miserable night.”
Shannon smiled. “I don’t mind, if you don’t. This is Christmas weather.”
His eyebrows shot upward. “Snow is Christmas weather. This is just cold and wet.”
“Give it a chance. We don’t get many white Christmases in this part of the country, but there’s the smell of wood smoke and fresh-washed evergreen in the air, and all those strings of lights sparkle through the rain like tiny jewels.”
Alex shook his head, yet when they walked outside to the waiting Jeep, he realized that the scent of wood smoke and evergreens did fill the air, and the early twilight was indeed brightened by the Christmas lights strung on trees and bushes and houses. He’d deliberately chosen a place that was different than their old home in Minnesota, but while they probably wouldn’t have snow for Christmas, they’d have stands of pine and cedar keeping the forest green.
And they’d have Shannon.
The errant thought shook him. Desire was one thing, but he didn’t want to need anyone…the kind of needing that tied your heart in knots and made good-byes so terrib
le.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Shannon commented as he pulled out of the driveway. “Is something wrong?”
Alex summoned a smile. Shannon was a nice woman, and she was doing a lot for his son, but that didn’t mean he needed her. He had to get a grip.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just hadn’t realized we wouldn’t have a white Christmas.”
“Well, we might get some early snow, but we usually don’t before January. Even then it’s iffy, and doesn’t stay long on the ground unless an arctic storm comes down from Canada.”
Using the discipline he’d honed over the years, Alex forced his brain into less disturbing directions.
Snow was a perfect distraction.
He mentally noted where he’d stored the snow shovel, and calculated how long it would take to shovel the walks and their two driveways. He’d shovel snow for any neighbor, so it wasn’t significant that he planned to deal with Shannon’s snow.
They were friends, weren’t they?
Chapter Seven
Alex doggedly read the term papers piled on his desk and tried to ignore the cheerful sounds rising from the first floor of the condominium.
Jeremy hadn’t forgotten about the half-finished cookies, and at 5:00 a.m. his son had been standing by his bed, asking if they could call Shannon to come and help finish making the “ginger people.”
“You mean gingerbread men,” he’d said groggily.
“Shannon says they’re ginger people.”
“Did she say gingerbread people?” Alex was never at his best in the morning, and getting into a semantics discussion with a four year old before the crack of dawn hadn’t been the brightest idea in the world.
“Shannon says ginger people.”
Of course. Whatever Shannon said was the gospel truth as far as Jeremy was concerned. It didn’t matter, anyway. In the end they were just cookies.
“Okay,” he’d muttered.
Meet Me Under The Mistletoe (O'Rourke Family 5) Page 7