A Boy's Christmas Wish. Patricia Johns
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to her favorite recliner and the footrest popped up. Beth shot her father an apologetic look.
“I thought it would be better if you heard it from me,” she said.
“It would have been better if he’d been man enough to tell me himself,” Rick snapped.
“No, it wouldn’t,” Beth said with a sigh. “You hate everything Danny does. It would have given you a chance to yell at him, that’s it.”
“And that’s too much to ask?” Rick muttered something under his breath. This was a personal loss for Rick—the store he’d helped his father build up. He’d set his last novel in a family-run corner store, just like theirs, and the critics had deemed it “important” and “layered.” They’d said they could feel the “regional heartbeat” in his work.
“Dad, I hate this, too,” she admitted. “Our family used to be respected.”
“We are respected. Hard times don’t change that.”
He had a point, but this wasn’t what any of them had expected. If the town were to place bets on which of them would hit bottom, they’d have all put their money on Danny to slide down into ruin. Not the Thomases. But her father wasn’t the man he used to be since Linda had left, and Beth hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or not. That was ironic, considering how much she’d disliked her stepmother. They’d never gotten along, not that Linda was entirely to blame. Beth hadn’t been easy on her.
“Have you met his son?” Beth asked after a moment.
“You mean Danny’s son?” Rick asked. “Yeah, I’ve seen him around. Luke’s a good kid.”
She nodded. “Funny to think of Danny as a father.”
“Funny to think of my little girl as a mother,” her father retorted. “Some of these things creep up on a person.”
“Har har.” She cast her father an annoyed look. When was he going to stop being scandalized over this? She was due in a month. He’d had time to get used to the idea.
“And speaking of parenthood,” her father said, “we need to talk about getting child support.”
“No.”
“Even Luke’s mother came after Danny to do his part,” Rick said with a shake of his head.
“She wouldn’t let him near the kid before she dumped him on his doorstep,” she countered.
“Fine. Whatever. My point is, babies don’t come into the world by accident. It takes a cooperative act between two people, and it isn’t right for the full financial burden to fall on only one of them.”
“Dad, I’m not going after child support.”
What was she supposed to do, try to track down some random Australian tourist who’d happened to drink in a certain bar in Edmonton one spring night after her boyfriend had dumped her? It wasn’t even a possibility, but this wasn’t a story she could tell her father. She’d kept her mouth shut until now, and she was keeping it that way.
“It’s Collin’s baby, isn’t it?” her father pressed. “I mean, obviously it is. I’m not stupid.”
Collin was the accountant she’d been dating in Edmonton until he’d broken up with her. He was taking a job across the country in the Maritimes, and he didn’t feel their relationship would last long distance. He hadn’t mentioned her going with him, either. But he wasn’t the father.
Her father scrubbed a hand through his gray hair. “Beth, the book royalties have been a trickle at best. I’m not in a position—”
“I know,” she said quietly.
“I told Linda she could have the investments and the car. She was the mind behind the investments anyway. I just wanted to keep my shop and this house. I can always write more books.”
On the surface, it sounded like her father had come out ahead in the settlement, except for the fact that the store had been on the brink of bankruptcy and the house wasn’t worth much in a town this size. If they put it on the market, it would be nearly impossible to sell. No one moved to North Fork. People moved out.
“Dad, I’m not asking for anything.”
“You might not be asking,” he retorted. “But the reality is that kids are expensive. You’re going to have day care, food, diapers. And just wait until this kid starts school! School supplies, school clothes...”
Beth knew all of this, which was why she’d come home. But she was a burden around here. Coming home wasn’t the problem—it was coming home pregnant.
“After the baby is old enough, I’ll go back to work,” Beth said.
“See, this is the thing.” Her father’s voice grew gruff. “I want you have a choice. I don’t want you pushed into a corner.”
“But I don’t have a choice!” she countered.
“You could have more of a choice if you made the father of this baby take some responsibility,” he said.
They could argue this in circles all night, and they’d still never agree, because her dad was convinced that Collin was the father, and if that were so, Collin had a job and a stable income. He could easily pay child support.
“I know you think Collin is the father, but he isn’t.”
“He isn’t.” Her father eyed her critically. “Who is?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“You have to think of your baby,” he said.
“Do you think I don’t?” Tears misted her eyes. “I think of very little else, Dad!”
In four short weeks, give or take, Beth was going to be the mother of a baby girl, and she’d be responsible for this little person’s well-being for the rest of her life. She could feel her daughter move and stretch inside her, and when she lay in bed at night, she’d play games with her by pressing on her belly and feeling the baby tap back. She’d already named her: Riley Elinor. Elinor since that was Granny’s first name, and Riley because Beth liked it. No other reason than that, and there wasn’t a father to debate with over names.
“Linda would have known how to handle this,” her father said with a sigh.
“Linda was a cold, brittle witch, Dad!”
“Say what you like about her, she was here!” her father snapped. “At least I gave you a stepmother to help with all the girly things I knew nothing about!”
Beth pressed her lips together. This was not the time for this argument. Her father had married Linda about a year after Beth’s mother passed away from cancer. Beth had been twelve, and she’d hated the idea of her father loving another woman from the very start. So, granted, they hadn’t had the smoothest of transitions, but Linda had been a chilly and unsupportive woman. Linda knew what she expected, and she didn’t waver in that: homework done on time, kitchen cleaned nightly, a half hour of TV a night and skirts to the knee. Beth realized that didn’t sound horrible, but there also hadn’t been any softness or understanding. Linda hadn’t liked Beth very much, and she’d never hidden it well.
Beth’s brother, Michael, on the other hand, had been more likable in Linda’s eyes. She’d never been a doting kind of woman, and heaven knew she’d never tried to take their mother’s place. But Michael got off easier on everything, and when he went on to get his PhD and a teaching position, Linda had never been prouder.
“Well, now you don’t have Linda to help you figure it out,” her father snapped. “And I don’t have any answers, either.”
“I’m glad Linda isn’t here for this—” she began, but she stopped when she saw Granny standing in the doorway. The old woman’s eyes filled with angry tears.
“Granny,”