by Amanda Tru
“Like you said, she’d only nine, and she’s the baby. She’ll outgrow the worst of it.” Kent’s heart squeezed, thinking of the little girl whose father that couple had been trying to find. A little girl who may not get the chance to grow up.
The same thought must have struck Adaline. Moisture gathered along her lashes. He didn’t want to lose the happier mood they’d worked to reestablish over the last hour. Time for a distraction.
“Here. Have a bite.” Kent loaded his spoon and held it close to her lips.
She accepted his offering and closed her eyes, savoring it. His mouth went dry.
“Oh, man. That’s good. Never would have picked you for a rocky road guy.”
“Reminded me of you. Sweet and a little nutty.”
She pursed her lips, but the mirth in her eyes gave her away. “Can’t argue with that. Especially when my coffee reminds me of you. Tall, dark, and just a splash of… never mind. I’ve got nothing.”
She made a goofy face. Their joined laughter—the whole night really—felt too good to be real.
“Okay, you convinced me. I’m gonna get a scoop after all. Aren’t you proud of me? Such a rebel, eating ice cream when it’s freezing outside.”
The thundering in his ears matched the thumping in his chest at her sassy smile. He watched her strut to the counter, registering out the corner of his eye that Jane and Karalee were back at their table, giving Xander a hard time about his triple-dip of peanut butter, banana, and strawberry.
Leaning back on a happy exhale, it hit him that this was the life he’d been looking for. Waiting for. He was ready for family life. This family, if possible.
Is that Your plan, Lord?
Kent gave himself a mental head shake. What was taking Ada so long? He glanced over to see her holding a couple of empty sample spoons and accepting a new one from the employee behind the counter. She stuck it in her mouth and tilted her head before pointing to the case again. The poor guy behind the counter had no idea Ada was the kind of customer sampling limits were set for. The guy sure knew now.
He turned his attention back to the kids and slurped a rapidly melting spoonful of rocky road. It was bittersweet watching these three interact. To know this might have been his life. Well, not this exactly, but fatherhood, a few kids giving him and their mother a hard time.
Coden would’ve been a little older than Jane. Would he have had curly hair like Xander? Probably. Even likely, given his own mixed heritage and Shaina’s natural ringlets. A bit surprising that the thoughts didn’t stab him the way they used to.
Eighteen and immature, would he and Shaina still have divorced eventually had Coden lived? Or would they have figured out how to love each other and given him a few siblings? A lot of young marriages failed. Hard to say.
“Ow, Xan-turd!”
“Oh, please. I barely touched you.”
“Huh-uh! You pulled my braid!”
“No, I flicked it!”
Kent snapped out of his thoughts at their outbursts. Should he intervene? Right as he leaned forward, Ada marched up, frowning, a cup in one hand and spoon in the other.
“Seriously, guys? How old are you, Xander?”
Kent winced. That question used to irritate him to no end. Little sisters could be obnoxious, but they were usually clever. Somehow the blame had always landed squarely on him in every tiff with Keisha.
“But mom!” Xander’s surprisingly deep voice protested. “She keeps dipping her spoon into my ice cream and getting her toxic saliva all in my food! It’s nasty!” He swiped at one of Karalee’s braids again before flopping dramatically into the back of his chair with a glare that could melt all the ice cream in the freezers.
“KaraLEE. Where are your manners?”
Kent knew he should keep a straight face. The spat wasn’t funny. Ada’s annoyed mom voice wasn’t funny. Her burning him to ash with a laser glare if she caught him laughing wouldn’t be, either.
But it was.
All of it. He couldn’t help it. This was all so—so normal that he found it hilarious.
Don’t do it, Kent. Don’t even think about it.
He had to suck it back down. If a guy could force himself not to cry in dark times, he should be able to hold in an inopportune laugh.
Even if Xander’s face was a flaming tomato.
Even if Karalee was currently sneaking her spoon toward her brother’s bowl again.
Even if Adaline’s nostrils flared.
Nope. He couldn’t do it. Kent muttered an excuse me that sounded like a constipated dog sneeze and beelined for the bathroom. He’d made it three feet when Karalee’s nickname registered.
Xan-turd?
He was done for. The laughter came out with enough force he had to grab onto the nearest chair for stability.
XAN-TURD?
He had to give it to the kid. It was clever. And why were inappropriate words so stinking funny?
His face and abs began to ache from the ridiculous guffaws he couldn’t squelch. Tears sprang in his eyes. Get it together, man.
“Are you okay, Mr. C?” Xander’s concerned tenor filled the shop.
“Yeah,” he gasped. “Sorry. But Xan-turd? And did you say Kare had toxic saliva?”
He was going to die, writhing in agony on the floor from a laughter induced ab workout. The muscles were screaming, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d let go and laughed like this.
It finally registered that young laughter had joined his. After a few intense, focused deep breaths, he had himself mostly back together enough to risk looking at Ada.
She stared at him, deadpan except for her one lifted eyebrow. On closer look, one corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. He sighed with relief and collapsed onto a chair.
Okay. She wasn’t completely annoyed at him. That was good.
“You sure you’re up for all this insanity? Because we could really use one relatively sane adult in this mix, and I’m not entirely sure you haven’t already cracked.”
He loved every bit of what it sounded like she was offering. The responsibility was sobering, but… yeah. He was totally up for all of this.
For the rest of his life.
Christmas Eve was tomorrow. How was that even possible? The season had flown by this year. Most of the time, it seemed to drag on so that by the twenty-fifth, he didn’t want to hear another Christmas carol or see another Santa Claus ever again.
Kent stuck a piece of tape to the wrapping paper triangle at the end of the small box containing the charms he’d bought for Ada a few weeks ago. He paused. Had it only been a few weeks? He shook his head and taped down the other end. Hard to believe how much had changed in the past month.
Cutting several lengths of curling ribbon, Kent wrapped them around the box and tied a knot with long strands the way his older sister, Corrine, had taught him years ago. He ran the scissors down the length of each ribbon until the package was covered in a pile of curls. Satisfied, he tucked the box under the tabletop tree at the end of the couch.
Someday he’d get a bigger tree—a real one if he could. But for now, this would have to do. It wasn’t like anyone else would see it. He usually went to Ada’s and rarely had visitors here.
Kent swept the evidence of his wrapping efforts into the trash. What else could he do today? He’d already wrapped and shipped the gifts for his family. Ada and the kids were busy today. His condo was already clean. No yard work in an apartment Didn’t feel like watching television or even reading a book.
Bored, he flopped onto the couch and scrolled through social media. He clicked on a post from Shaina. She and her husband had taken their kids to Disneyland. His thumb scrolled further down her profile. A few funny memes, some random posts here and there. He was about to return to his newsfeed when a familiar photo of Coden gutted him.
Mommy misses you, sweet baby boy. Happy sixteenth birthday.
The post was from ten months ago. Kent’s face felt hot as he studied the
picture, tracing his son’s round head full of dark hair. His eyes were closed in slumber, but Kent’s memory went to the clear NICU bassinet. Coden’s tiny body hooked to machines, fighting for his life and eventually surrendering.
He couldn’t keep doing this. There was a reason he hardly let himself think about Coden. It must be his son’s upcoming birthday that kept drawing memories from his subconscious. What advice would he give to a client?
More than likely, he’d say, “Your son will always be a part of you, with you in a way. Imagine a photo album that you allow yourself to open when you need to. Remember, feel, and then close the book.” Or some kind of psychobabble like that.
He wouldn’t be wrong, though. Closing the book didn’t mean he couldn’t look inside whenever he needed to. He might not need to open it again for another year. Or two. It wasn’t as if he would ever forget. Who could?
Kent swallowed against the golf ball clogging his throat and put his phone away.
A walk. Yes. Excellent use of time. He locked up and pocketed his keys and went left.
An hour later, his head was back on straight. God had given him a precious gift in his career path. Though he hadn’t met anyone who’d made him want to try again, he lived a full life. Fuller now, with Ada and her three hilarious children.
Would she consider the possibility of one more? Could he?
Kent flung the thought as if it had been a lit firecracker.
Remain in the present, man. He jogged up the steps and reached for his keys to unlock the door. The sight of something sticking in the edge of his door caught his eye. Probably a flyer for a nearby takeout joint. Scanning the folded page, his eyes widened and heart began to race.
Kent bent and lifted the edge of his doormat. Sure enough, there was something there. An envelope that gleamed bright white.
Slipping his finger under the seal, he gave it a tug and squeezed the sides to examine the contents. What the? He’d get a better look inside now that it was getting dark out.
Ugh. She really should change that ringtone to something less annoying. Probably another robocall from some fly-by-night insurance scam. The social security office suspending her social security number! Yeah, right. Or her favorite, the effervescent Rachel with card services.
Kent’s name on the display brought a smile to her lips.
“Hey, Superman. What’s up?”
“You’re never gonna believe this.”
Ada sat up straight, her whole back instantly cold from the change in position. “What?”
“I’m holding five tickets to Shadows of Night Part Two.”
Ada let out a screech so high-pitched she was surprised the neighborhood dogs didn’t come running.
“Ow.”
“Oh! Sorry, Kent!” She winced, her heart pounding. “But—are you serious? When? How? Why?”
She heard his chortle through the speaker. “I’ll answer your first question if you promise not to damage my other eardrum.”
“Deal. When?”
“Midnight, Christmas Eve.”
Oh, how she wanted to make a whole lot of loud, squealy noise just then. She settled for both hands pumping the air as she wobbled her knees in a move that would definitely get called for excessive celebration if she were in the NFL.
“Ada. Still there?”
She looked at the phone clutched above her head and grimaced. “Sorry, hon. I was, uh…,”
“Happy dancing?”
“Yup.”
“I knew I should’ve come over and delivered the news in person.”
Ada laughed. Shaking her head, she let the joy overtake her face in a smile so wide it hurt. This might not constitute a Christmas miracle to anybody else, but she knew the truth. Her grin might never go away.
God, You are SO GOOD!
Her dance had settled into a giddy bounce until she froze with another question. “Wait, where did they come from?”
“There was a note from that couple we met at the River of Lights. The ones looking for that guy? I’d guess they found him using my directions, and this was their thank you.”
“I wonder how they knew.”
“The guy mentioned Xander’s beanie, and I think I remember talking about the movie.”
“But the midnight showing has been sold out at every theater in town for ages! How did they even get the tickets? You know what? I don’t even care.” Ada flopped back to her comfy spot and wrapped herself in her favorite throw. “It’s further proof how much God loves me, even when I’m a neurotic mess.”
Kent chuckled, and there was a long pause afterward that made her wonder if she’d lost the connection.
“Kent?”
“I’m here.”
“You are inviting the kids and me to see it with you, right?”
“Did you really have to ask?”
“Guess not. I just didn’t want to presume.”
“Your happy dance would suggest otherwise.”
Ada’s cheeks flooded with heat. He had her there.
“I would love for you and the kids to spend Christmas Eve with me. If that won’t mess with your family plans, I mean.” Kent’s smooth baritone sent flutters through her heart.
“I’d like that, Kent. Very much. I’ll check with the kids, but I’m pretty sure they won’t hear anything past Shadows of Night Part Two.”
“When should I pick you guys up?”
Half of her was ready to invite him to spend the whole day with them. The other half wanted to meet him there so she could spend Christmas Eve soaking up alone time with the kids before relinquishing them to Jeff Christmas Day.
A little, teeny, tiny fraction that didn’t even make up a whole percent whispered find a compromise. The fraction grew and reminded her Kent had no family in town this year, as they were all waiting out a snowstorm up in Idaho where his older sister lived.
“Talk to the kids and call me later.”
Sweet, thoughtful man. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sorry for the dead air. I’m overthinking this. The kids adore you almost as much as I do. What would you think about coming over around three?”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I…,” was she ready to commit to this aloud? Yes. Enough, Ada. Be better. Peace crashed like a wave. “Let’s start another of those new traditions we talked about.”
He paused long enough to make her stomach dive for an Olympic medal. His “I’d like that,” brought relief. No splash, just a ripple. Her heart went wild with cheers of Gold!
“I ate way too much.”
He’d have to buy bigger pants if he kept eating like this with Ada. That or join her daily runs.
“Well, I didn’t,” Xander grinned, reaching for another shredded beef tamale.
The fourteen-year-old had already polished off three, plus two helpings of chicken enchiladas and who knew what else. Those days were long over for Kent. He rubbed at his sternum, hoping he wouldn’t get heartburn from the spicy food. Worth it, though. “My tia would be impressed. Heck, I’m impressed. You really made all this yourself?”
Ada’s cheeks glowed, and she pointed to herself. “Overachiever, remember?”
“It was delicious. And authentic. I haven’t had posole that good in years.” If he’d had any more room, another bowl of the pork, hominy, and chile in a savory broth would be tempting. “Might be better than Grandma’s.”
“Wow, that’s a big compliment.” She tucked a stray piece of short blonde hair behind one ear, a shy smile brightening her hazel eyes.
“It is. I come from a long line of people who love good food.” He grinned and, at her pretty blush, winked. “Christmas with Mom’s family was a blend of New Mexican and regular American dishes. Dad’s was all Cajun and Creole. What about yours?”
“Mostly the typical ham and repeats of Thanksgiving favorites. Guess you’re used to spicy then?”
“Oh yeah,” he rubbed the area below his sternum again. Time for something sweet to cool off with. “It’s not homemad
e or anything,” he winked again, remembering Thanksgiving, “but that ice cream I brought would go down nicely about now.”
“Ugh, how can you guys eat anything else?” This from Jane, who stuck her tongue through her teeth and puffed her cheeks as she sat back in her chair.
“I want ice cream!”
Kent grinned at a bouncing Karalee and met Ada’s gaze.
“Of course, you do, kiddo.” Ada ruffled her daughter’s hair playfully. Karalee ducked with a giggle and a grimace.
This was shaping up to be a perfect night, and they’d barely begun.
“How about we dip up your ice cream and then head into the living room for Christmas Eve presents?” Ada rose from her chair and began clearing the table.
Kent followed suit, as did the older two after a brief hesitation. Karalee’s eyes darted to the living room and back three times before she reached for her empty plate and glass and moved to the sink.
Wise choice.
Soon everyone found their seats facing the Christmas tree. Xander crawled to the floor and over to the tree, looking at his mom expectantly. Ada curled up next to Kent on the loveseat, resting her head on his shoulder. He loved their easy affection, even with the kids around.
Kent wasn’t sure what to expect next, so he’d just eat his ice cream and watch.
“The three with one on the tags right in front,” Ada directed. Xander reached for three identical rectangular packages, all wrapped in the same paper with bows in the same color. He checked the tags before distributing them to his sisters and keeping one for himself.
Kent resisted raising his brow, but—really? He tilted his head to get a better glimpse of the gifts under the tree. As suspected, all the presents were clustered in threes with each cluster matching in paper and bow color. Three or four different wrapping papers in total, but clearly sorted and placed with care. He shook his head, grinning. Very Ada.
As if she could sense his thoughts, she looked up at him, nibbling her upper lip the way she did when nervous. He smiled and kissed the top of her nose.
“Thanks, Mom,” the kids said in singsong stereo.