Kisses on Her Christmas List. SUSAN MEIER
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Using a paper towel to sop up the milk, Shannon said, “What?”
“Her mom,” Rory said, not quite sure how to broach this subject because he hadn’t spoken with anyone about his ex. So he had no practice, no frame of reference for what to say.
He lifted his eyes until he could catch Shannon’s gaze. “Finley’s mom left us two years ago on Christmas day.”
Shannon took the wet paper towels to the trash. Confusion laced her voice when she said, “Your ex left you on Christmas day?”
“Yeah, that’s why Finley’s sensitive about Christmas. But what’s worse is that her mom doesn’t want to see her at all. She doesn’t like kids. Didn’t want kids.”
Shannon returned to the table and fell to her chair, trying to force all that to sink in but not quite able to comprehend. She’d spent her entire adult life attempting to get pregnant, longing for a child, and Finley’s mom had left her without a backward glance?
“My ex never did anything she didn’t want to do.” He rose from the chair, pushed it out of his way and stooped to pick up the scattered cards.
“That’s amazing.”
He shrugged, but his pinched expression told her he wasn’t so cavalier about it. “She’d said at the outset of our marriage that she didn’t want kids.” Finished gathering the cards, he rose. “Her getting pregnant was a surprise, but I thought we were ready. Turns out she wasn’t.”
Shannon sat in stunned silence. Rory’s wife had abandoned her daughter? Disbelief thundered through her, along with a sense of injustice. While she’d do anything, give anything, to be able to have a child, Finley’s mom had simply abandoned one?
How could a woman be so cruel?
CHAPTER THREE
RORY NEATLY STACKED the cards on the table. “I need to check on her.”
“Okay. I’ll start lunch.”
As she had the night before, Shannon made soup and sandwiches. This time, she chose chicken soup—a soup with not even a red vegetable in it—and prepared a plate of cold cuts and some bread.
Finley walked into the kitchen in front of her dad, who had both hands on her little shoulders. Looking at the floor, she mumbled, “I’m sorry.”
Shannon’s heart ached for her, but she didn’t think it was appropriate to say, “Hey, it’s not your fault. Your mom’s a horrible woman who shouldn’t have left you.” So, instead, she said, “That’s okay. I didn’t make red soup today.”
Finley peeked at her. “You didn’t?”
“No. I made chicken noodle.”
“I like chicken noodle.”
“So do I.”
Rory got bowls from the cupboard and he and Finley set them on the place mats Shannon had already put out. Finley found soup spoons. Shannon set the cold cuts on the table. Everybody did everything without saying a word.
Shannon felt oddly responsible. Should she have tried to lose at the card game? Should she have reacted differently to the cheating accusation? She honestly didn’t know. But she did know Finley deserved a bit of happiness and if she could, she intended to provide it.
She sucked in a breath. “You know…I still have a few sleds from when my dad and I used to slide down Parker’s Hill when I was a little girl.”
Finley’s face instantly brightened. “Really?”
“There’s a bit of a hill behind this house. I never tried it out for sledding because I just moved here last year, but I’m guessing there might be a place we could sled-ride.”
This time Rory said, “Really?”
“Sure. It would be fun. Even if we can’t go sledding, getting outside for some fresh air would do us all good.”
Rory inclined his head. “Maybe.” He faced his daughter. “What do you think?”
“I’d like to sled-ride.”
“And we will if we can,” Shannon quickly assured her. “As I said, I’ve never checked out that hill.”
“I don’t have snow pants.”
“You can wear two pair of jeans,” Rory suggested.
“And we’ll put them in the dryer as soon as we come inside, so they’ll be good for tomorrow morning.”
The mood clearing the lunch dishes improved significantly from the mood when setting out those same dishes. Finley hurriedly dressed in the multiple jeans and double sweaters. Shannon found a pair of mittens to put over Finley’s tiny multicolored striped gloves.
When Finley was ready, Shannon quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and two sweaters. She put her dad’s old parka over herself and used insulated gloves for her hands.
They stepped outside onto the back porch and the glare off the snow almost blinded them.
“Wow. It’s beautiful.”
Shannon glanced around proudly at the snow-covered fir trees that surrounded her little home. “Yes. It is. I loved living in South Carolina—close to the beach,” she added, slanting a look at Rory. “But this is home. As annoying as snow is, it is also beautiful.”
They trudged from the house to the shed behind the garage and found an old sled and two red saucer sleds. Shannon and Finley took the saucers and Rory hoisted the bigger runner sled off its hook and followed them out, into the bright sunshine again.
Again they trudged through the snow, walking the twenty or thirty feet from the outbuilding to the dip behind the house.
“There are trees.”
Shannon glanced at Rory. “I know. That’s why I couldn’t say for sure we could sled. Without a wide path between the trees, there’d be too much chance we’d hit one and somebody could be hurt.”
He walked fifty feet to the left. “Too many trees this way.” Then fifty feet to the right. “I found something!” he called, motioning for Shannon and Finley to come over. “There’s a perfect space right here.”
The “hill” was more of a slope. It eased down nicely for about thirty feet. A wide ledge would stop them before they reached what looked to be a bigger hill. Still, given that Finley was only six, Shannon didn’t think they should try to go beyond the ledge.
She tossed her saucer to the snow. “I’m ready.”
Finley followed suit. “I’m ready, too.”
They plopped onto their saucers, scooted a bit to get them going then careened down the hill. Finley’s squealing giggles filled the quiet air. Hearing her, Shannon laughed. They flew down the slope and, as predicted, their saucers ran out of steam on the ledge.
Finley bounced up. “Let’s go again!” She grabbed her saucer and started up the hill.
“Walk along the side!” Shannon called. “We don’t want to make our slope bumpy from footprints.”
To Shannon’s complete amazement, Finley said, “Okay!” and moved to the side of the hill.
When they reached the top, Rory said, “Okay, everybody out of my way. I’m taking this puppy for a ride.”
He threw the runner sled onto the snow and landed on top of it, sending it racing down the hill. He hit the ledge, but his sled didn’t stop. The ledge didn’t even slow the sleek runners. Smooth and thin, they whizzed across the ledge as if it were nothing. In seconds Rory and his sled headed down the bigger hill and disappeared.
Finley screamed.
Thinking she was terrified, Shannon spun