A Family Under the Christmas Tree (6 page)

The timer dinged.

“Done!” Troy hollered and danced around the kitchen, slipping slightly in the flour.

“Careful,” Grandma warned from the dining room table. She had a dollop of frosting on her cheek and her eyes sparkled.

“Okay, little man, stand back.” Sophie slipped on an oven mitt and opened the oven door. A wall of heat hit her in the face, making her hair curl. She blew a loose strand out of her eyes as she removed the cookie tray and set it on the stove, and then quickly used a spatula to transfer the cookies to the wire rack. “Now we have to wait for a few minutes for them to cool.”

“I don't like waiting,” Troy huffed. “Everything is always about waiting. Wait for school to start. Wait for Uncle David to pick me up. Wait for my favorite show. Wait for the cookies. Wait. Wait. Wait.”

Sophie suppressed a smile and knelt down to look Troy in the
eye. How could she explain the concept of patience to a child? “I know waiting can be hard sometimes. And you feel frustrated by having to wait. Is that what happened when you ran away to the park?”

His chin dropped and he made circles in the flour with his toe. “Uncle David said we'd go to the park. He wanted to wait until after lunch. But I was tired of waiting.”

“Maybe next time you have to wait and if you feel yourself becoming frustrated you could sing a song.” Sophie wasn't sure where that idea came from but she went with it. “Do you have a favorite song?”

Troy nodded. “ ‘Baby Beluga.' ”

“I don't know that one. Can you sing it for me?”

Quietly, he started to sing the song about a baby whale in the deep blue sea. At first she had to strain to hear him, but his voice got louder as he went along. Partway through, his voice faltered as he reached a verse that talked about the whale's mommy. Tears welled in Troy's eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

Sophie's heart sputtered as she pulled the child into her arms. “Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad.”

“I miss my mommy.”

“I know you do, honey.” She rubbed his back and felt tears prick her eyes.

“I want Uncle David.” He tightened his hold on her. “You don't think anything bad has happened to him, too, do you?”

His words pierced her. “Oh, no. I'm sure he's fine.” She glanced at the clock again, and sent up a silent prayer that what she said was true, even as a slow, burning anger simmered low in her gut. Poor Troy was terrified that something bad had happened to his uncle. David had to realize he couldn't be so insensitive to his nephew's fragile state of mind.

She leaned back to look into Troy's face. Using her thumbs, she wiped away his tears. “Why don't you help Grandma put all the cookie cutters back in the tub while I run next door to see what's keeping your uncle.”

Troy sniffled and nodded. “Okay.”

Sharing a concerned glance with Grams, Sophie lifted Troy onto the chair next to Grandma. “I'll be right back.”

She grabbed her coat and traded her slippers for Grandma's tall rain boots and marched outside, ready to give David Murphy a piece of her mind.

I
nsistent tapping forced David to lift his hands from the keyboard and jerk his gaze away from the computer screen. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the darkened house. He'd been so deeply lost in his work he hadn't noticed that night had fallen.

Disoriented, David struggled to make sense of what was happening. He'd heard a noise. But now the house was eerily quiet.

His hands ached, his shoulder muscles throbbed.

What time was it?

He hit the button on his phone to check the time. His stomach dropped. Oh, man. He was more than an hour late picking up his nephew.

And Sophie had called. Twice.

He'd put his phone on
do not disturb
after having talked to everyone at work, putting out fires that needed his attention. He should have set an alarm. He knew that. But he'd been so
focused on pushing through, trying to get this app done, that he'd forgotten. And Troy had paid the price.

The sharp rap against the glass windowpane behind him drew him from his chair. He pushed aside the curtain and came face-to-face with a shadowy figure. Startled, he stumbled back, tripping over the chair and landing on the floor on all fours. Would a burglar knock?

“David!”

Sophie.

Heart thumping, he jumped up and pushed the curtain aside again, but she was gone. He had to get to Louise's. What if something had happened to Troy? He didn't think he could handle any more tragedies. He'd had his fill, thank you very much.

A few seconds later, knocking at the front door had him picking his way through the land mines of toys. He flipped on the porch light and opened the door. Sophie stood on the other side with her hands on her hips and her mouth pressed into a grim line.

His heart squeezed tight and alarm sped through his veins. “Is Troy okay?”

“Yes. He's okay now. But he's worried about his uncle.”

Shadows played across the planes of her face, hiding her eyes, but there was no mistaking the sharp-edged tone of her voice. Uh-oh. He was in deep trouble with the lovely lady. As he should be. He'd let her down. He hated that feeling. He owed her so much and could never thank her and Louise enough for inviting Troy over to bake Christmas cookies.

Even though he knew Sophie had agreed to allow Troy to impose for Louise's sake, it was really nice of her to be so accommodating. She'd come to Bellevue to be with her grandmother, not to entertain a five-year-old. “I'm so sorry. I totally lost track of time. I'll come over right now and get him.”

“
You turned your phone off.” The accusation hung in the air like wisps of smoke.

He blew out a breath that turned white in the cold air. “I made the mistake of checking in at the office,” he said. “Then my employees kept calling me back, so I put it on
do not disturb
. I wasn't thinking. Here, let me grab my jacket and we can go to your grandma's.”

Instead of answering, she glided past him to enter the dark house.

“Wait!” he warned as he reached for the light switch.

When the light came on, she stood frozen in the middle of the Thomas the Train track with her foot stuck inside the Knapford Station. Her arms were out to her sides, like she was about to take flight. The ponytail sticking out the back of her hat swished as she whipped her gaze to him. She was so cute.

“Do you mind?” she prompted.

Suppressing a grin, he rushed to release her foot before she crushed the plastic and wooden piece. He reattached the station to the track. “Sorry.”

With one hand, David grabbed a robotic dinosaur with a stuffed dog in its mouth, and with his other hand he cleared a path through the pile of Lego pieces. She navigated her way through the rest of the land mines and stopped by the dining room table. She surveyed his home with just the barest hint of a raised eyebrow.

He glanced around, seeing the place from her point of view. It was a complete mess. It looked like the toy box had barfed all over the house. Only they didn't have a toy box. Note to self: buy a toy box.

The train track took up the entryway and crept into the space that divided the dining and living rooms. Train pieces littered the rug.
A dump truck carrying building blocks sat on the back of the couch, where Troy had been playing last night before bed. A haphazard stack of books looked like it was about to topple off the coffee table. “We're not too tidy around here.”

She considered him for a moment. “No, you're not. Why is that?”

He opened his mouth to answer but realized he only had excuses. He was too tired at the end of the day to pick up. It was easier to leave everything where it was, since Troy would only drag it all out again anyway. He settled for a shrug.

“Look,” she said in a modulated tone, “you've got to prioritize your life differently. Troy has to come first. If you can't hire a nanny, then you need to work when he sleeps.”

David ran a hand through his hair. He was exhausted. And he didn't need a lecture. “Yeah. You're right. I can do a lot when he's in bed. It's just—”

“Just what?”

He cringed at the sharp edge to her tone. “He has nightmares.”

Her expression softened. “That's rough.”

He'd survived on little sleep in college; he could do so for two weeks. “And there are some things I can only accomplish during normal business hours. I have a company to run.”

Her eyes widened. “You own your company. Okay. I get it.” A dose of derision filled her lovely face. “I do. My parents were like that. Workaholics. It left my brothers and me feeling very disconnected and unimportant.”

He ached for the hurt he heard in her voice. He didn't want Troy to feel that way, but what was he to do? He didn't have a partner to share the load of parenting with. Though from the sound of it, both of Sophie's parents put work ahead of their children. “By
summer I can hire a nanny. But that doesn't solve the immediate problem.”

“Don't you have employees who can take care of business for a while? What do you do when you go on vacation?”

“I've never gone on vacation.”

Her brows hitched to her hairline. “Ever?”

Uncomfortable under her incredulous stare, he moved to his desk to save his work. “Not in the five years since I started my company. Not counting the time after Daniel and Beth's accident. Troy and I were both a mess then.”

And he hadn't taken a vacation before that either, but he wasn't about to share that tidbit. Growing up, money had been beyond tight. Day trips to the beach or hiking had been the extent of their family vacations. Then came college, and he'd worked as well as studied.

“Maybe you should consider taking a vacation for the next two weeks while Troy is out of school,” she suggested.

He considered her words. What would a vacation look like? It wouldn't be a real vacation, since he wouldn't be leaving town. Didn't they call that a staycation? “I don't know if I can do that.”

She stepped closer. Her expression puzzled. “You don't trust your employees?”

“I do,” he was quick to assure her. “It's not that. I don't know if I”—he thumped his chest—“could take time away from work.” He glanced at his computer. All that still needed to be done on his project raced through his mind. “If I tell you what I'm working on, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

She widened her eyes and canted her head. “Of course. Who would I tell?”

“There are people out there who would love to get their hands on my computations.”

“
And you think I'm one of them?” She laughed.

Excited to share his vision with her, he explained his idea for a finger sensor on electronic device platforms to monitor hydration levels. “Do you see how this might be a useful app?”

Enthusiasm brightened her face as she looked at his design. “Yeah. I'm so impressed. If you can pull this off, your app could help the elderly, athletes . . . everyone. Water is such an important part of our lives.”

He couldn't stop the way his chest expanded with her praise. “I wish I could say I was the one to first think up the idea. But I might be the first to actually make it happen.”

“So that's what you're working on here.” She pointed to the desk.

“Yes.”

“Then you don't need to go into the office?”

“I haven't the past two days, but I've got meetings scheduled for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.”

“What are you planning to do with Troy?”

Acid churned in his stomach. That was a quandary he'd been wrestling with for the past week. “I'll have to take him with me.”

“Can you reschedule the appointments until after the holidays?”

He shook his head. “No. Each meeting is with a big client. I can't afford to put them off. I need to secure the business before the end of the year.”

She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. She seemed to be struggling with something. Her gaze moved to the table. She let out a small gasp and picked up his sketchbook.

He sucked in a sharp breath. The etching he'd drawn of her stared back at her from the pages of the sketchbook.

“You did this?” She lifted her luminous eyes to stare at him.

He straightened. Oh, no. He hoped she didn't think that was strange. “I'm sorry, I hope you don't mind—”

“It's beautiful,” she said.

She
was beautiful, he thought. But what he said was, “I studied art as well as computer science in college.”

“Where did you go?”

“DigiPen in Redmond, Washington.” The technology school was world renowned in the gaming and software world.

“You're good.” She continued to stare at her image. “I could watch Troy for you while you take your meetings.”

Wait. Did she just say what he thought she said? “You'd do that?”

Setting the sketchbook back on the table, she lifted her chin. “Yes, if you promise to take the rest of the two weeks off.”

“Wow. I don't know what to say.”

“Say yes. Troy needs you right now. This will be the first Christmas without his parents.”

The reminder punched him in the gut. The burn of grief stung his eyes. He blinked rapidly to banish the tears. “Yes. Christmas will be hard. For both of us.”

She touched his arm. “I'm sorry. Of course you're grieving, too. Maybe you need the time off for yourself as well.”

Touched by her concern, he put his hand over hers. “I'll take that into consideration.”

She slipped her hand from beneath his. “Okay, now that that is settled, we should head to Grandma's.”

As she stepped past him, he snagged her hand and drew her closer. The glow from the dining room ceiling lamp sparked in her eyes, highlighting the crystal blue irises rimmed in a darker hue of blue. A man could lose himself in those serene pools of color and light. “Thank you. I can't tell you how blessed Troy and I are to have you and Louise in our lives.”