A Boy's Christmas Wish. Patricia Johns
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asked.
“The star for our Christmas tree...and whatever else is up there, I guess.”
Danny started up the ladder, his head quickly disappearing into the attic. He was a tall man, and solid. She’d noticed how the last five years had changed him. He was tougher now, more muscled.
“So have you been this daring your whole pregnancy?” His voice was muffled.
“Yes.” Up until quite recently, she’d been on her own in Edmonton. There hadn’t been much choice. There was more muttering, this time a little less under his breath, and he handed down a small box.
“Is this it?”
She reached up to grab the box and opened it. “Yes, thanks. This is it.”
Danny came back down the ladder. “I’ll bring the rest down later. It looks like some old stashes of cups for the slushie machine, though.”
Danny still looked annoyed.
“Danny, I’m sorry I left like I did. I should have stayed for more closure, I guess. I don’t know what to say.”
She’d ticked him off, that much was clear, and he was silent for a couple of beats.
“Be more careful, Beth,” he said, then pushed the ladder back up into the attic, perhaps to keep her from getting any more ideas about climbing up there. He also scooped up the stepladder. But Beth wasn’t oblivious to the dangers around here. Nor was she ungrateful for his quick catch. If she’d fallen, she could have badly hurt herself, or worse, the baby.
“Danny?”
He turned back, and for a moment he was the old Danny with those soulful eyes and the chiseled jaw.
“Thank you for catching me.”
“Yeah...” He stomped back over to the corner and picked up his broom again. “No problem.”
Her heart was still hammering faster than usual, and if forced, she’d admit that her near fall had scared her worse than she let on. Pregnancy wasn’t easy, and it was harder still to be facing it alone. She rubbed her hand over her stomach.
She didn’t have a husband to humor her or keep her from overexerting herself. She didn’t have that loving, watchful spouse to care if she stretched too far or had a craving for ice cream at ten at night. And while she was a grown woman perfectly capable of caring for herself, she knew that she was more vulnerable right now. But giving in to that vulnerability wouldn’t help anything. She was on her own now, and she’d be on her own after this baby was born. She’d better get used to it.
“I think I’ll head back,” Beth said.
“Beth, I didn’t mean to bark at you.” Danny scrubbed a hand through his hair.
“I know,” she said. “It’s okay.”
“You just scared me. That’s all. Sorry.”
She’d scared him? His angry outburst had been covering fear for her safety?
“It’s okay,” she repeated. “I should probably get out of your way.”
He didn’t answer, which meant that her instinct was right, and he could use his space. Beth turned toward the door. When she glanced back, she found Danny’s brooding gaze fixed on her. He didn’t look away, and she was the one to turn and pull open the door.
“See you,” he said, and she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
The tables had turned here in North Fork. Linda was gone, and Danny was on top. Beth, as she always had been, was stuck somewhere in the middle... Not family enough for her father, not daughter enough for Linda, and not enough of whatever it would have taken for Danny to come clean and tell her his whole story. Frankly, she was tired of not being enough, and now that she had a little girl on the way, she was determined to be mom enough for one tiny person.
* * *
DAN STOOD IN his kitchen that evening making grilled cheese sandwiches. His house wasn’t large, but it had a garage and a decent yard for Luke to play in. When he bought the place two years ago, it had even come with a trampoline, much to Luke’s delight.
Dan could see the trampoline from the light that spilled into the backyard from his kitchen window, and it was covered in a soft layer of snow. He was hoping it would survive another year, because he couldn’t afford to replace it.
He was still annoyed with Beth, and it had taken him a few hours of brooding in the store before he worked out why. It was because she sparked that protective instinct in him. She needed a bit of special treatment right now, whether she deserved it or not, and he couldn’t provide it. And because she was pregnant, he felt obliged to do something to make things easier for her, even though what he really wanted to do was open up that can of worms with her—she’d walked out on him when he needed her most. She’d betrayed his trust, too! She’d broken his heart and left him floundering with a three-year-old who cried for his mother and to whom Dan was a stranger.
He’d needed her, and what were vows for if they didn’t count in the hard times? She’d been willing to marry him, so what would have happened if Lana had come a couple of weeks later—would she have still walked out? And if not, what made a week before those vows any different? They were supposed to be saying what was in their hearts already—publicly stating an already existing commitment to each other...or so he’d thought. So yeah, she was pregnant and alone, but she’d done wrong by him five years ago, and he couldn’t even address it with her. Only a complete idiot upset a pregnant woman.
A choice between a woman and his son... He knew where he’d land. Luke was his top priority, bar none. But his anger didn’t take away those latent feeling he’d had for Beth, either, and left him feeling mildly guilty. It was more comfortable when things were black-and-white, when he could land easily on one side of the equation.
Dan flipped the grilled cheese and admired the golden top of the sandwich. He was always rather proud of himself when he produced a perfect grilled cheese, and glanced into the living room, where Luke was doing his home reading from school. But Luke’s attention wasn’t on the book. He was staring at a spot on the sofa, his brow creased.
“You okay, buddy?” Dan asked.
“Yeah.” Luke tossed his book aside and ambled into the kitchen. He looked over Dan’s shoulder at the grilled cheese.
“Yours is on the table,” Dan said, and Luke didn’t move.
“Kiera T. is adopted,” Luke said. “Her birth mother visits her on her birthdays.”
“Oh, yeah?” Dan eyed Luke. “You aren’t adopted, you know.”
“I know.” Luke turned toward the table and slid into his spot. “William is adopted, too, but he doesn’t know his birth mom.”
It seemed like the third-grade class at the local elementary school was getting to know each other a little better. Luke had gone to school with these kids since kindergarten.
“That depends on the terms of the adoption,” Dan said. “An open adoption means that it isn’t a complete goodbye.”
“Huh.” Luke picked up his grilled cheese and took a greasy bite. “So what about my mom? How come I don’t know her?”
There it was. Dan’s stomach sank. Luke asked about his mom from time to time, but until now, he’d asked about her in the past tense, like where he was born or how he came to North Fork. Dan pulled his own grilled cheese from the pan and joined his son at the table.
“She brought you to me when she realized she couldn’t take care of you,” Dan said. This was the same story he always told. “And I’m really glad she did. It was the best day of my life.”
That was the only version his son would ever hear, but it had taken a while for him to realize that it was the best day of his life, because he’d been scared, alone, heartbroken