A Mom For Christmas. Lorraine Beatty
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Montgomery had taken root in his heart, and there was no yanking her out.
* * *
Beth rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the listings on the computer screen. After a restless night she’d wanted nothing more than to sleep in, hide under the covers and try to forget her life was in shambles. Her sister’s apartment was perfect for isolating herself. Tori had a good eye for decorating, and she’d designed the space in soft muted tones of green and blue that wrapped around you like a warm hug. The balcony, which overlooked the courthouse square across the street, was shielded from curious eyes by large pots of evergreen vines that even in the dead of winter provided privacy.
But today her new job required her to be in the office bright and early. Her mother had a long list of showings, which meant Beth would be working alone most of the day. Not a pleasant prospect because it allowed her too much time to think.
She’d fretted over Noah’s icy reception all night, but still found only one logical explanation. He hadn’t forgiven her for not staying in touch. Noah didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but he’d behaved like a man with a giant chip on his shoulder. A man who had been deeply hurt. But not by her. He’d never loved her. The realization still had the power to bring a sharp prick to her heart. She planned on talking to him again once he calmed down. If he did. She had enough to worry about as it was.
Shutting down thoughts of her old friend, she concentrated on sorting through the new additions on the Multiple Listing Service and the few phone messages left by locals who were putting their homes on the market. Thankfully the day passed quickly. It was early afternoon when the office door swooshed open. She looked up, expecting house hunters. Instead, a young girl walked in and slowly made her way toward the reception desk, her gaze scanning the walls as she went.
She was a cute child with golden brown hair in a page-boy style that framed her oval face and brought out her big blue eyes. Beth guessed her to be about the same age as her niece, Abby. She leaned her forearms on the desk. “Are you looking to buy a home, or are you more interested in renting?”
The little girl giggled. “I’m not looking for a house. I’m only nine. I’m here to look at the pictures.” She pointed to the wall of family portraits and photographs her mother proudly displayed.
“I see. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“Dentist appointment.” The girl stepped to the desk and extended her hand. “I’m Chloe. I come in here a lot to look at the pictures when Miss Francie is here. Oh.” Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth fell open. “You’re her. I mean you’re you, I mean—” She swallowed and pointed to the ballet portrait. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
Beth smiled and nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Chloe’s eyes grew soft and dreamy, and she clasped her hands together over her heart. “You’re beautiful. Like a white butterfly floating in the air.”
Her throat contracted. Never had she received such a sweet and sincere compliment. “Thank you, Chloe. That means a lot to me.”
“I want to be a ballerina. I want to drift like a feather and wear beautiful costumes.” She spread her arms and twirled around the office.
Beth couldn’t help but smile. The child was adorable. “Well, you can if you work hard. It takes a lot of training and dedication. Do you take dance lessons now?”
Chloe stopped. Her arms dropped to her sides, and her expression sagged nearly to the floor. “No. I can’t.”
She spoke the words with such drama that Beth had to swallow the chuckle that rose in her throat. “Why not?”
Chloe plopped her elbows on the desk, resting her chin in her hands. “Because my dad thinks it’s a waste of time, and he doesn’t want me to get caught up in silly dreams.”
Beth frowned and pressed her lips together. What kind of parent would tell a child such a ridiculous thing? “Dancing isn’t silly or a waste of time. It is a beautiful way to express emotion. It builds muscle and teaches discipline.”
“Daddy thinks it’s better if I play sports. He says they build character and teach a whole bunch of life lessons and stuff.”
Typical male. She could hear her brothers making the same argument. “What does your mother say?”
“Oh, she’s not here. She and Daddy got divorced a long time ago. She lives in Hollywood and has her own TV show. It’s called Brunch with Yvonne St. James.” Chloe’s eyes brightened, and she came around to stand beside Beth. “She’s going to send me a plane ticket so I can spend Thanksgiving with her, and she’s going to put me on her show, and I’ll get to meet lots of famous people. I hope I can meet Dustin Baker. I love his music, and he’s so dreamy.”
Beth had no idea who that was, but obviously he made Chloe’s little heart beat faster. “Are you going alone to see your mom?”
“Yes, ma’am. I can’t wait.”
Beth hadn’t been addressed as ma’am in a long time, and hearing it now set her back. It was common, even expected, here in the South, but having it directed at her made her feel older than her thirty years.
“I’ve seen lots of pictures of you.”
“You have?”
Chloe nodded. “Your mama talks about you a lot.” She pointed to the picture wall again. “I know your whole family. Those are your big brothers, Linc and Gil, and that’s their new wives, Gemma and Julie. Oh, and that’s Evan and Abby.” She walked toward the wall. “That’s Seth and Tori, but they aren’t here now ’cause Seth is in school to be a policeman and Tori is in California. I wonder if she knows my mom?”
“California is a pretty big place.”
Chloe shrugged. “I wish I had a big family. It’s just me and my dad. Oh, and my gram.”
“I’ve noticed you’re limping. Did you hurt yourself?”
She glanced down at her knee and shrugged. “I have Alls Goods Ladder.”
“She means Osgood-Schlatter.”
Beth’s pulse throbbed at the sound of Noah’s rich voice. She hadn’t heard him come in, nor had she expected to see him again so soon. He barely gave her a glance now.
“Chloe, what are you doing here? I told you to stay in my office.”
“Hi, Daddy. I wanted to see the pictures, and I got to meet the ballerina. I mean Miss Beth. Isn’t she beautiful?”
An awkward silence fell over the room like a suffocating blanket. Beth kept her gaze averted as Noah placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders in a protective gesture. Noah was a father? She hadn’t considered that. She’d heard he’d gotten married not long after he’d moved to California, which had added another spear to her punctured heart. Noah had never thought of her as anything other than a friend. His buddy.
She swallowed and grasped for control. “Osgood’s. That’s a knee problem, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “She injured her knee playing soccer and then had a growth spurt, which complicated things.” He squeezed Chloe’s shoulder. “She’s supposed to do her physical therapy exercises every day, but it’s like pulling teeth.”
“I hate them. They hurt and they’re boring.”
Beth could sympathize. “I know exactly how you feel. I had surgery on my knee, and I have to do PT exercises every day, too. It’s not fun, but if you’re going to get stronger and play soccer, you have to do them faithfully.”
Chloe screwed up her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest. “Great. I was hoping you’d be on my side.”
Beth chuckled softly. “The exercises don’t have to be boring. You can listen to music—that usually helps.”
“Is that what you do?”