A Family for Christmas (12 page)

He handed Trent his license and registration. “Yeah, but if you're going to do this tomorrow
night,” he grumbled, “vary your route a little. Please.”

Trent drove home, chuckling to himself all the way. He'd told the truth. The kids were a lot more fun than trouble. What was that old slogan?
You've come a long way, baby.

It took a week for Maggie to recover completely, but that first twenty-four hours was long enough to open Trent's eyes and load on the guilt. She'd needed help with these kids when he wasn't there or when he was tied up with the renovations. If she'd had it, she might never have become ill in the first place.

Now he had to tell her what he'd done, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to the second floor. He wasn't looking forward to this.

He found Maggie standing in the doorway to the laundry room that he'd finished that afternoon. The sun shone in the window at the back of the narrow room and right through her sable hair, highlighting it with a tinge of red. Today was her first full day out of bed. He hoped she wasn't too tired now that it was bedtime, and he hoped his news didn't annoy her because he desperately wanted to take their renewed relationship one final step further. It was almost all he could think about.

And the waiting was killing, him.

Trent wrapped his arms around Maggie's small waist and rested his head atop hers. “Are you standing here awed and amazed, or did I arrange it all wrong?” he asked her.

Maggie shook her head and looked back up at him
over her shoulder, a smile lighting her face. “It's perfect.”

“Good,” he said, and trailed his hand up her back to rest on her shoulder. “I'll tell Claire you like it She helped me with the design. Or you can…tell her tomorrow yourself.”

Maggie nodded, and turned slightly to face him. She looked a little puzzled. “I'll give her a call in the morning.”

“You, uh…won't need to. She'll be here.”

“Trent, I'm fine now,” Maggie protested, and gave the hand he'd rested on her shoulder a little squeeze.

“You're fine now. But you weren't. It's my fault you—”

“I didn't get sick because of getting wet!”

Trent shrugged and dropped his hand.. “Who knows why you got sick? The point is that you
did
get sick. Your reserves were low. No one else caught what your mother and Nancy had except you.” He took a deep breath. “Mag, I offered Claire White a job helping you with the kids and the light housework.”

Maggie stared at him. She didn't look mad. Just surprised. “Claire? Why on earth would you do that? And without asking me?”

“Because I was afraid you'd say no, and I know this is the best thing for all of us. You agreed in principle weeks ago to hiring someone to help out, but when you got back from Florida you never did anything about it”

“I didn't want a stranger here when we were all trying to feel our way through all the changes.”

“Claire isn't a stranger to the kids. They're crazy about her.”

“But it's such an imposition on her. She volunteers at the church all the time—and do you know she lives with her son and daughter-in-law? They might not like her working.”

“Did
you
know that she misses having kids around now that her grandchildren are in college?” he countered with a smile. He'd missed trying to outwit Maggie. “Or that she's getting tired of her son telling her what to do all the time? We'd be helping her.”

Maggie frowned, no doubt seeing her side of the discussion floundering. “No. I had no idea about any of that. But she lives about fifteen miles away. Does she even drive?”

“No, she doesn't drive. That's why I offered her the apartment over the carriage house to live in. It's unoccupied now. She said she misses having a place of her own. And I offered to take her home to her son's on the weekends if she wants to go. She's thrilled with the whole arrangement. I hope you will be. She won't accept until she talks to you. Jim Dillon is bringing her over again in the morning.”

At last, Maggie smiled again. “The kids all love her already. I think she'll be a lot of help. Thanks, Trent. This is a great idea.”

“I had another idea,” he said as he reached out and wrapped his arms around her. A pang of conscience hit him, almost dissuading him. from taking the next step. He should tell her about his lie. He should tell her their breakup hadn't been all her fault. But he silenced that inner voice. She never had to
know. There was no reason to dredge up all that pain. To admit to a flaw he had yet to identify himself.

Maggie looked up at him, startled. Unsure. “What?”

Trent pushed ahead. They could not go on as they had been—
he
could not. “I locked up downstairs. I thought we'd turn in early.”

Maggie nodded, her eyes suddenly alert.

“You need to keep your strength up.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice flat and heavy with disappointment.

And Trent rejoiced inwardly. He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head toward hers, watching her reaction. The desire glittering in her eyes before she closed them was everything he'd hoped for. His lips met hers, and he closed his eyes to lose himself in a long, lingering, deeply satisfying kiss. Yes. This was right.

“And I'll make sure that you sleep late tomorrow,” he told her, his lips grazing hers with each whispered word.

“Oh,” she said, and this time the simple sound had the ring of joy.

A
loud
bang
blasted Maggie into consciousness the next morning. That she was still in Trent's arms was the first coherent thought she had. Her second was that either they had both slept through the alarm, or they hadn't remembered to set it in the first place. Maggie grinned. Her mind had certainly been elsewhere, and as she recalled, so had Trent's.

Grace's crib banged again against the wall in the room adjoining the master suite. This time she chuckled. Their littlest human alarm clock was in fine form.

Trent groaned. “It can't be morning. Do you think you could get her to believe it's not morning yet?”

Maggie rolled to her back as Trent propped himself up on his elbow. She smiled as she looked up into his sleepy eyes and ran her hand along his beardroughened jaw. “Not a chance. I've learned that you don't reason about bed with a two-year-old. Besides, in about two more minutes the others will be awake,
too. She yawned. “What time is it anyway? Don't you have to get ready for work?”

Trent grimaced. “It's seven-fifteen, and yes, I do. I have a nine o'clock meeting that I just can't postpone.”

“If you have to be downtown at nine, I'd better get breakfast started. Suppose I make pancakes?” Maggie asked.

“That's too much trouble.”

“No, it isn't.” She laughed as she slipped out of his arms and out of bed. “After all,” she added, walking away, “you have to keep up your strength.” She stopped in the doorway and winked at him over her shoulder just as she pushed the bathroom door closed behind her.

Trent's laughter followed her, wrapped its arms around her, and danced up her spine.

Maggie poured the last of the batter on the griddle just as Trent came down the back stairs into the kitchen. He was dressed for his meeting except for the suit jacket he had slung over his shoulder. “Good morning, everyone,” he said, grinning hugely. He had the look of a very happy man.

After hooking the jacket over his chair, Trent came back to stand behind Maggie at the stove. He kissed her on the back of the neck and wound his arms about her waist. “And a special good morning to my lovely wife.”

Maggie laughed. “Flattery like that will get you—” she looked over at their enraptured audience “—um…pancakes!”

Trent raised an eyebrow. “Pancakes? You already promised me that,” he teasingly reminded her before letting her go. But he didn't go far. He leaned back against the countertop next to the stove and fiddled with her hair. “How about company for lunch? Just you and me. Claire should be here by then to watch the kids. I thought maybe we'd go to the General Warren Inn. I can probably pick you up by one. How's that sound?”

Tipping her head to the side, she stared at him. Years ago he used to spring surprise lunches like this on her. This was a wonderful blast from the past. She thought about the candlelit atmosphere at the colonial inn and said dreamily, “The General Warren. It sounds…romantic.”

Trent grinned. “Count on it.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

Daniel's tapping of his blunt fingertips on the table drew their attention. He stared over at them, a thoughtful expression in his brown eyes, his chin propped on the heel of his other hand. “I guess Aunt Maggie isn't getting on your nerves anymore,” he said with great disgust.

Maggie and Trent both turned, each of them battling laughter while ostensibly looking for something in the refrigerator. Trent grumbled, “So much for romance” under his breath, and almost undid Maggie's efforts.

She took a deep breath and went up on tiptoe to kiss him. “Michael and Sarah must have found a way for romantic moments,” she whispered. “We will, too.”

“And we'll start with lunch?” he asked.

Maggie nodded. “Lunch,” she promised, then sought a safer subject. “So tell me what this morning's meeting is all about.”

Maggie finished with her mascara and picked up her blush brush. She'd had an interesting morning. It had followed one of the most wonderful nights of her life. Trent's sudden return to her arms last night had been an incredible shock. But his revelation over breakfast had left her flabbergasted. He was seriously considering selling CSD! While she had longed for children, CSD had been his baby. And his reason for the sale—that he wanted more time with her and the children—had left her dazed. Happily dazed, she thought as she stared at her reflection.

Thank you, Lord. You really are the great author and finisher. You've taken a tragedy none of us knew how we'd get through and turned it into something wonderful.

Just how much of a miracle had come about was never more evident than when Jim Dillon came by with Claire and her belongings just after Trent left for the city. He and Maggie had talked about Trent for a while. Apparently, the young pastor confided, the Lord was often the main topic of conversation when he and Trent were alone. Maggie couldn't help but be encouraged that Trent was questioning his skewed view of faith. He was seeking the Lord even if he was unaware of it.

Seven weeks later, before he sat down to the Thanksgiving table, Trent looked around at everyone as they all scrambled for seats. Sometimes when he
thought of the changes these last months had wrought, it seemed unreal to him. Wonderfully unreal and horribly frightening. What if all this disappeared? He couldn't go back. He knew that. Not now. Not after he'd finally begun to live the life he and Maggie had started out wanting all those years ago when, they'd taken their wedding vows.

He glanced at Maggie as she buckled Grace into her high chair, and guilt crept in to steal even more of his happiness. It killed him a little more every time her eyes clouded whenever anyone mentioned something that had happened during the period of their separation. He wished he could bring himself to tell her the truth. He should have told her in Florida. He should have put aside his hurt and eased her guilt as much as he could. And now it was too late. Because as much as he wanted to tell her, he was so afraid of losing her that he was paralyzed.

“Suppose we each tell the Lord what we're thankful for today,” Maggie said as she sat. Her voice drew Trent from his thoughts.
Pray out loud? Me?
he thought in a panic.

Nancy cleared her throat. “Well, since I'm the oldest here today, I'll go first. I'm thankful that the Lord sent me so many good friends to help get me through this year's tough times, and for my wonderful grandchildren who keep my own child alive just by being.”

Trent saw Maggie's lower lip quiver, but before things turned maudlin Daniel spoke into the silence
and shifted everyone's emotions to the opposite end of the spectrum. He piously bowed his .head and folded his hands. “I'd like to thank You for Mrs. White, and 'specially for her great fluffer-nutter sandwiches!”

Trent heard Maggie's unladylike snort as Mickey spoke up. “I'd like to thank You for helping me walk again.”

Rachel closed her eyes, pressed her palms and fingertips together and tilted her face to the heavens. “Thank You, Jesus, for Uncle Trent and Aunt Maggie guarding us, ‘cause Mickey says they didn't have to guard us at all if they didn't want to. And I know You had to be the one to make them want to ‘cause we're an awful lot of trouble.”

Grace piped up next “Tank You for my bear to hug.”

Trent looked around and found himself speaking. “Thank You for my new family, and for bringing Maggie and me back together,” he said, and was surprised that he actually meant it as a prayer.

He'd begun to understand a little more about God and what Jim and Maggie called a personal relationship with Jesus. It no longer meant weakness to him. He just wasn't sure what it did mean or how it applied to him. And so he spent time with Jim Dillon—no weakling, to be sure—questioning him casually on the Bible and church doctrine while they hammered, sawed and painted. He went to church with the family every Sunday, listening and evaluating everything he heard and saw.

“Grace Margaret Osborne! Put down that fork,”
Mickey hollered, startling Trent out of his ponderous thoughts. “Mom-Mom and Aunt Maggie haven't prayed yet.”

Mickey sounded just like Maggie when someone was in big trouble. Trent looked at her and had to choke back laughter when he saw her fighting a smile. Mickey was a sensitive, funny kid with an overblown sense of responsibility toward his siblings. He'd come home the day before Halloween insisting that he walk into the house on his own. The whole family had gathered to celebrate his slow but triumphant entry. While his gait was still a little slow, with his whirlwind personality he'd caused several changes in the household equilibrium and had completed their family.

Other things had changed as well. Trent had indeed decided to sell CSD, so. he had a lot of spare time these days. And he'd used that time to make incredible strides on the house. There was still a little cosmetic work to be done inside, and some gingerbread trim for the porches and eaves still had to be restored, but the grand old lady was safe for the children, and nearly done. Her exterior was now painted a creamy taupe, the window sashes and gingerbread a deep barn red that contrasted nicely with rich forest-green trim.

Even though Maggie wanted someday to put up Victorian reproduction wallpaper, in order to give the place a more finished look for the holidays, Trent had painted the interior walls. One day when Maggie was out with Claire and the children, he and Jim had raided the still-to-be-finished third floor and liberated all the furniture Michael had stored up there for safety
during the first-floor renovations. The derelict was now not only the grand old lady of Mike's vision, but she was a home as well. Truly Paradise Found.

Thoughts of Mike brought another stab of guilt. Trent knew he didn't deserve this kind of happiness. And it seemed that his life had been incredibly blessed because of his brother's death.

“Tomorrow, suppose we load up the van with a picnic lunch and drive up to the Poconos? Would everybody like to help cut a Christmas tree?” Trent asked, remembering Mike's tradition with his family. He wanted his brother's kids—at least the older three—to remember Mike. Continuing a family tradition seemed like a good way to keep his memory alive.

The next morning, Trent found that his Thanksgiving peace was still wrapping him in contentment. He grinned at Maggie as the doorbell chimed, and she handed him the spoon to continue dishing hot cereal.

The next moment he heard her cry, “Oh, sweet Lord! No!”

“Mickey, could you hand the bowls around?” he asked the boy.

“Sure,” Mickey said, and jumped up to take Trent's place at the counter.

Maggie was standing on the porch outside the open front door staring as a car moved away down the drive. In her hand was an ominous blue-backed bundle of paper. “Mag?”

She turned, her face pale. There was terror in her eyes. “I thought he was a salesman. I felt sorry for
him because he seemed so nervous. Then he handed it to me and took off. They did it.” she said, her voice shaking. “They really did it.” The despair in her voice slashed at his heart.

Trent walked across the porch. “Who did what?” he asked, but he was afraid he already knew.

She handed him the crumpled notice. “Your parents. They're suing for custody.”

Trent stared down at the document. Anger tore through him, shredding the blanket of happiness that had settled over his life these past days. Would they never be what he needed? Do what he needed? How could two people live their whole lives and never learn to think about what their actions did to others?

Then fear and guilt rushed in and nearly stole his breath. He and Maggie could lose the children! If they did, his parents would destroy everything wonderful about them. He knew that with a certainty. And if they lost the children to his parents, Maggie would have every reason to blame him. These were his parents, after all. Whether they were his naturally or by decree, he'd still brought them into her life. He was afraid he could easily lose her as well as the kids.

Trent looked over at Maggie and forgot himself. She was devastated. “They don't have a chance,” he told her, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He moved closer to her and enveloped her in his arms.

Maggie nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist. “No chance. No. You're right,” she said, and seemed to grow a little taller. Stand a little straighter. “I'm sure they don't. But pray with me. Please.”

Trent not only wouldn't have denied her anything at that moment, but he was no longer sure that the God of the universe was just a casual observer. And he'd take any help he could get right about then. For all their sakes.

Maggie nestled her head under his chin and began her prayer. “Lord. You know our pain right now. You know our fear. And we know You're in control in this situation just as You are in all the moments and aspects of our lives. All we ask is the strength to bear this trial with grace and wisdom. We ask Your peace. Guide all of us in the best way to handle this both in court and with the children. We ask Your everlasting compassion to help us find it within our hearts to forgive these misguided people who have brought this pain and fear to us. Thank You, Lord. We do humbly praise You. Amen.”

Maggie looked up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “They aren't going to win. We've come so far with God's help. We just have to travel a little farther. But we have a big decision to make. Do we tell the kids?”

“I say we tell them.” Trent didn't know where the answer came from, but it was the right one.

Maggie looked as surprised as he felt. “But why worry them unnecessarily? Your parents can't win, Trent. Michael and Sarah even put a clause in their wills about our guardianship!”

“I think we need to tell them because if I've learned one thing dealing with these kids, it's that they're smart. How will they feel if they somehow hear about this? We can't take a chance that they
won't find out. We surely can't risk letting them think we'd lie to them.”