One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (3 page)

Kate nodded slowly as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes. My…my mother died very suddenly a month ago.
She and Sarah were very close. We all were, actually. Sort of like The Three Musketeers.”

Her voice quavered, and Eric's heart went out to her. She'd had so much loss. It didn't seem fair. He longed to ease her pain, but knew there was nothing he could do. Except listen.

Kate took a deep, shaky breath. “Anyway, Mom lived with us and watched Sarah for me during the school year while I was teaching. I had to find other day care for Sarah at the last minute, and she started a couple of weeks ago, right before I went back to school. It's been a big adjustment for her. For both of us, actually. You see, I always wanted to be home until she went to school. Jack and I had agreed on that. But of course things changed when he died. Having Mom watch her was the next best thing. Now… Well, I hate leaving her with strangers. Sarah is shy, and I'm afraid she may not be mixing well with the other children.” Kate bit her lip, clearly distraught.

“You know, it sounds to me like her pains may be emotionally rather than physically triggered,” Eric observed. “Coping with the loss of her grandmother was probably hard enough. Coupled with being thrust into a traditional day-care situation—well, it's a big adjustment. Are there any other options?”

Kate frowned and shook her head, her eyes deeply troubled. “This was the best I could do at the last minute. Most of the really good places are booked solid and have waiting lists a mile long.” She dropped her head into her hands and drew a shuddering breath. “This isn't at all what I wanted for Sarah!”

Eric's throat tightened. For a brief moment he was overcome by a powerful urge to reach over and take her hand, to give her the reassurance of a caring touch that
she seemed to need so desperately. He knew that she was stressed to the limit, torn between want and necessity. At this point he was actually more worried about
her
physical and emotional state than he was about Sarah's. Children had a way of adjusting. And Sarah had the security of Kate's love. But Kate was alone, with no one to share her burdens. Though his heart told him to reach out to her, in the end professional decorum prevailed and he refrained—with great effort.

“You're doing the best you can, Mrs. Nolan, under very difficult circumstances,” he reassured her gently, his voice unusually husky. “Don't be too hard on yourself.”

Kate looked into his eyes, and she felt strangely comforted by the kindness and compassion she saw there. She
was
trying to do her best, and it lifted her spirits ever-so-slightly to have someone recognize that.

“Thank you. But it's obviously not good enough. I want what's best for Sarah, Doctor. There has to be a better solution than this.” She sighed and wearily ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair. “I guess I'll just have to keep looking.”

Eric stared at her bowed head, his face growing thoughtful as an idea suddenly took shape his mind. If he could pull it off, several problems would be solved, he realized. Sarah would have a more personal day-care situation. Kate's guilt would be eased. And Eric's mind would be relieved of a constant worry. It was a long shot, of course. And he didn't want to raise any expectations until he had a commitment. But it just might work.

“I'm sure you'll find the answer, Mrs. Nolan. And in the meantime, remember that children are more resilient than we think. You're clearly a caring, conscien
tious parent, and children know intuitively when they're loved. That makes a huge difference.”

Kate looked at Eric, essentially a stranger to her despite their brief, traumatic encounter five years before. Yet he seemed to know exactly the right thing to say to relieve her mind. Maybe it was a knack he had with all worried mothers. But the caring in his eyes seemed genuine—and somehow personal. Which was silly, of course. She was just another case to him. But she appreciated his kindness nonetheless.

“You have a great bedside manner, Doctor. Even if I'm not the patient,” she told him with a tremulous smile. “I feel much better.”

He returned the smile, and she liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I'm glad. And let me know if Sarah is still having problems in a week or so. But I think she'll adjust, given time.”

“I just wish there was another option,” Kate said with a sigh.

Eric didn't comment as he stood and ushered her to the door. But he had a plan. And if everything went as he hoped, Kate's wish just might come true.

 

Anna Carlson's hand froze, the glass of orange juice halfway to her mouth, as she stared at her son over the plate of scrambled eggs.

“You want me to do what?”

Eric had known it wasn't going to be an easy sell. Ever since his father had died six months before, his mother had shut herself off from the world, struggling not only with grief over the passing of her lifelong companion but also with a sense of uselessness. A nurturer by disposition, she had found her meaning in life by caring for the men she loved—Eric when he was
younger, and in recent years her husband, as failing health made him increasingly dependent. In fact, their already strong mutual devotion had seemed to intensify as Walter's physical condition weakened.

While some women would resent the demands of living with an ill spouse, Anna had never complained. As she'd told her son on more than one occasion, “Walter took care of us for a lot of years, Eric. He worked three jobs at once when you were a baby just to make ends meet. Nothing was too much trouble if it made life easier for the people he loved. How can I do any less now, when he needs me?”

Now, with his father gone and the demands of his practice keeping him too busy to give his mother as much time as he'd like, she was adrift. The inspired idea he'd had in the office a couple of days before had seemed like the perfect solution for everyone. His mother needed someone to take care of. Sarah needed someone to do just that. Kate needed the peace of mind that a good caregiver would provide. And he wanted to help his mother find new purpose in life. It was an ideal arrangement.

But from the way she was staring at him, one would think he'd suggested she take up skydiving.

“I'd like you to consider watching one of my patients five days a week during school hours while her mother teaches,” he repeated evenly.

His mother set her glass down and continued to stare at him. “Why on earth would I what to do that?”

Eric mulled over his response while the server poured him a fresh cup of coffee and decided on the direct approach.

“She needs help, Mom.”

Anna frowned at him. “Who? The mother or the little girl?”

“Both.”

Even if she wasn't exactly receptive, he'd at least aroused her curiosity, Eric thought. His mother hadn't looked this interested in anything since before his father had died. Their after-church Sunday-morning breakfasts had become a ritual during the last six months. It was a time he reserved exclusively for her, but usually she was subdued and barely picked at her food. Today he'd managed to snap her out of her apathy, if only for a few moments.

In fact, as she studied him now, he began to grow slightly uncomfortable. He knew that look. It was one he remembered well from his growing-up years, when she was trying to figure out what was going on in his mind, what his motivation was. Her next question confirmed it.

“Eric, in all the years you've been a doctor, I've never seen you take such a personal interest in a patient. Is there something you're not telling me about this situation?”

He had to give her credit. She was as sharp and insightful as ever. He'd never told her about the accident, but he did so now, as briefly as possible and characteristically downplaying his role. She listened with interest, and when he'd finished she looked at him shrewdly.

“And your paths just suddenly crossed again two days ago?”

“Yes.”

She pondered that for a moment. “It seems odd, doesn't it?”

“Very.”

“Even so, there's really no reason for you to get
involved in this woman's life, is there? You must meet a lot of parents who are facing similar dilemmas.”

He couldn't argue with that. Broken families, single-parent households, stepchildren—and the many problems they entailed—he'd seen it all. And he'd never before been tempted to intervene personally. At least not to this extent. His mother was right. There wasn't any reason to get involved in Kate Nolan's life. Except maybe one: he wanted to. And at the moment he wasn't inclined to analyze his motivation.

“Let's just say that I think it would be the Christian thing to do,” he replied noncommittally. “You have the time. She has the need. It's the right combination of circumstances at the right time. There's nothing more to it than that.”

His mother looked skeptical, but she didn't belabor the point. Instead she glanced down at her plate and poked at her scrambled eggs, a thoughtful frown on her face. Eric waited quietly, praying that she'd at least give this a chance. It would be as good for her as it would be for Kate and Sarah.

When at last she met his gaze, her own was still uncertain. “I don't know, Eric. It's a big responsibility. And they're strangers to me. What if we don't even like each other?”

“You'll like them, Mom. I guarantee it. And they'll love you. Sarah misses her grandmother, and I can't think of a better surrogate. You were made for that role.”

And this was the only chance she would have to play it. The unspoken words hung in the air between them. Eric's marriage had produced no children, much to his regret. And there wouldn't be another. He had made his peace with that. Anna never had. She thought he needed
a wife, and she occasionally dropped broad hints to that effect when the opportunity presented itself. As she did now.

“I haven't given up on having a real grandchild, you know,” she said pointedly.

“It's time you did.”

“You're only thirty-eight, Eric. It's not too late to have a family.”

“Mom.” There was a warning note in his voice, which Anna ignored.

“Of course, you'd need a wife first.”

“I have a wife.”

“You've been divorced for almost five years, Eric.”

“You know how I feel about that.”

Anna sighed and glanced at the wedding band on his left hand. “Yes, I guess I do.”

Eric knew that most people considered divorce a perfectly acceptable solution for a troubled union, that they found his attitude archaic. As did even his mother, who didn't take divorce lightly. But he believed in the sanctity of marriage; believed that the vows so solemnly taken were for life. He and Cindy might be divorced on paper, but in the eyes of God he believed they were still man and wife. Even Cindy's remarriage three years before hadn't convinced him otherwise. He wasn't going to judge her. He left that to the Lord. But it wasn't the right thing for him. Besides, his dedication to his career had ruined one marriage. He wasn't about to inflict that burden on another woman. In the meantime, they'd wandered far from the subject at hand.

“None of this has any bearing on our discussion, Mom,” he pointed out. “If you're worried about whether you'll all get along, then how about this—I'll call Kate Nolan, and if she's interested I'll arrange for her to stop
by and visit you. That way, the two of you can size each other up and you can meet Sarah. How does that sound?”

Anna nodded slowly. “I suppose I could consider it. But I'm not making any promises, Eric.”

“I don't expect you to.”

“I do feel sorry for her, though. So many burdens on someone so young. How old did you say Sarah was when the accident happened?”

“Six weeks.”

His mother shook her head. “I can't even imagine. It's enough of a challenge for two people to raise a child. But for a single working mother… And then to lose her own mother so recently. She really does sound like she needs help, Eric.”

“She does. She's been living under tremendous strain for years. I'd say she's approaching the danger level on the stress scale.”

“Well, I suppose I could meet her, at least. Maybe help her out until she finds someone to take over permanently.”

Eric felt the tension in his shoulders ease. “I know she'd appreciate it, Mom.”

“This is all contingent on whether we get along, though,” his mother cautioned.

“You'll get along fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you.”

“But you don't know Kate Nolan. You just met her.”

“Let's just call it intuition.”

Eric was relieved that his mother seemed to accept that response. Even it if wasn't quite true. Because, odd as it seemed, he felt as if he
did
know Kate Nolan. But
he couldn't very well tell his mother that. She would jump to all sorts of conclusions—all of them wrong, of course.

Weren't they?

K
ate pulled to a stop in front of the small, tidy brick bungalow and took a slow, steadying breath. She still wasn't sure how all this had come about.

Two days ago, when Eric Carlson had called to check on Sarah, Kate had been impressed by his conscientiousness. No doctor she'd seen before had ever personally followed up with a phone call after an office visit. She'd hardly recovered from that pleasant surprise when he'd gone on to say that he might have a solution to her day-care problem. To put it mildly, she'd been overwhelmed.

Even now, it was difficult to believe that he had gone to so much trouble, especially for a new patient. And by enlisting the aid of his own mother, no less! Of course, the way he'd carefully explained it to Kate, she'd be doing
him
a favor if this all worked out. Apparently his mother had been quite despondent since the death of Eric's father, and he was convinced that if she had someone to nurture—namely Sarah—she'd regain some sense of purpose in life.

He might be right, Kate mused. Feeling needed did
wonders to help one through the day. But as far as she was concerned,
she
was the one who had the most to gain from this arrangement. Of course, Kate had to feel comfortable with Eric's mother. That was imperative. But almost anything would be an improvement over her current arrangement. Besides, she was sure the woman's character would be impeccable. If she had raised a man as fine as Eric seemed to be, how could she be anything less than stellar?

The stifling heat and humidity of the St. Louis summer slammed against Kate with a force that almost took her breath away as she stepped out of the car. It was a bit late in the season for such sauna-like conditions, but then again, in St. Louis you never knew. It was too bad the weather had decided to act up today, though. The classrooms at the school where she taught weren't air-conditioned, and she felt totally wilted and drained. On top of everything else, Sarah was cranky after another obviously unpleasant day at the day-care center—not the best time to make a good first impression, Kate thought ruefully. But it was too late to change the appointment now.

“Come on, honey, it will be cool in the house,” she told Sarah encouragingly as she unbuckled her daughter's seat belt, then reached for her hand.

“I want to go home,” Sarah whimpered, holding back.

“I know, honey. So do I. But I promised Dr. Eric we'd stop and visit his mommy. She's lonesome here all by herself. And we wouldn't want to break our promise to Dr. Eric, would we?”

Sarah wasn't in the mood for logic—or guilt trips.

“I don't want to,” she declared stubbornly.

Kate's head began to pound. “We won't stay long. But
I promised Dr. Eric. We have to go in,” she told Sarah, struggling to keep her voice calm as she gently but firmly pulled her protesting daughter from the car.

“I don't want to!” Sarah wailed, resisting Kate's efforts.

“Sarah! Stop whining!” she ordered sharply, her patience evaporating. “We're going to go in. Now. And we'll be done a lot faster if you cooperate.”

Sarah was still whimpering miserably as they made their way up the brick walkway. Despite her terse tone of moments before, Kate could empathize. She was so wrung out from the heat and the stress of the last few weeks that she felt like doing exactly the same thing. Instead, she forced herself to pay attention to her surroundings. She noted the large trees and fenced backyard—a perfect place for a child, she reflected appreciatively. Lots of shade and plenty of room to run and play. And Eric's mother lived just ten minutes away from her apartment. If only things would work out! She needed a few breaks—desperately. So did Sarah.

As a result, for the first time in a very long while, Kate made a request of the Lord. For Sarah's sake. She'd stopped praying for herself long ago, when He'd ignored her entreaties and abandoned her. But maybe He'd listen on behalf of a child.
Let this work out,
she pleaded silently.
I want what's best for Sarah, and I don't know where else to turn.

As Kate pressed the doorbell, she glanced down at her daughter. Sarah still looked hot and unhappy and ill-tempered. Kate just hoped that once inside, where it was cool, she'd settle down and give Eric's mother a glimpse of the charming little girl she usually was.

The door was pulled open almost immediately, leaving Kate to wonder if the older woman had been
hovering on the inside of the door as anxiously as she was standing on the outside. For a moment they looked at each other, each rapidly taking inventory. Eric looked nothing like his mother, Kate noted immediately. This woman's hair was mostly gray, though traces of faded auburn revealed its original color—a contrast to Eric's gold blond. While Eric was tall—at least six feet—his mother was of moderate height. Five-five at the most, in heels, Kate estimated. And Eric had a trim, athletic build, while his mother was softly rounded. But she had a nice face, Kate decided. And her eyes were kind.

“You must be Kate,” Anna said at last, her initial polite smile softening into true warmth.

“Yes. And this is Sarah.”

Anna looked down at the little girl who eyed her warily.

“My! You're much more grown-up than I expected. I'm so glad you and your mommy decided to visit me today. It's always nice to make new friends, isn't it? Why don't you both come in before you melt and we'll have something cold to drink.”

She moved aside, and Kate stepped into the welcome coolness.

“Oh, it feels wonderful in here!” she exclaimed with a sigh.

“It sure is a hot one out there today,” Anna commiserated as she led the way into the living room. “Eric tells me you teach. I certainly hope the school is air-conditioned.”

Kate made a wry face. “No such luck. But I'll survive. This heat can't last forever.”

“Well, let me get you both something to perk you up.” She looked at Sarah, who sat quietly close beside Kate on the couch. “Now, I'll just bet you're the kind of
girl who likes ice cream. Am I right?” Sarah nodded. “That's what I thought. Let me see—chocolate chip, that would be my guess.”

Sarah's eyes grew wide. “That's my favorite.”

“Mine, too. How about a nice big bowl to help you cool off? That is, if it's okay with your mother.” She glanced at Kate, who smiled and nodded. “Good. I'll just run out to the kitchen and get it ready. Would you like to come, too? I have a parakeet you might like to meet.”

Sarah looked at her curiously. “What's a para—parakeet?”

“Why, it's the most beautiful bird! Sometimes he even talks. His name is George. Would you like to see him?” Sarah nodded, and when Anna held out her hand the little girl took it shyly. The older woman looked over at Kate. “I'll get Sarah settled in the kitchen with her ice cream, and then we can have a little chat. Would you like some iced tea?”

“I'd love some,” Kate replied gratefully. “Thank you.”

Kate watched them leave. It must run in the family, this ability to make friends so easily with children, she marveled. Eric certainly had the gift. And now she knew where he got it. She listened to the animated chatter coming from the kitchen, and took a moment to look around the living room. It was a cozy space, neat as a pin but not too fussy. The furniture was comfortable and overstuffed—made for sitting in, not just looking at. Fresh flowers stood in a vase on the coffee table, and family photos were artfully arranged on the mantel.

Kate's gaze lingered on the pictures, and she rose and moved closer to examine them. She started at one end, with a black-and-white wedding photo—probably
Anna and her husband, Kate speculated. Then came a picture of the same couple cutting a twenty-fifth-anniversary cake. Eric's father looked like a nice man, Kate reflected. And it was clear now where Eric got his looks. His father was tall, dignified, blond and blue-eyed—in other words, an older version of Eric.

But it wasn't photos of Anna and her husband that dominated the mantel. It was pictures of their son. Eric as a baby. Eric in a cub-scout uniform. Eric in a cap and gown, flanked by his proud parents. Eric with his parents again, in a shot of more recent vintage, taken on the deck of a cruise ship. And on the wall next to the mantel, a framed newspaper clipping about Eric having been named Man of the Year by a local charitable organization. Clearly, he was his parents' pride and joy.

But there was something missing from this gallery, Kate suddenly realized. Eric wore a wedding band. She remembered noticing it in the office, when he'd been playing with his pen. But there was nothing here to indicate that he had a wife, or a family. Or that he ever had. Curious.

Just then Anna returned, and Kate turned guiltily from the mantel, her face flushed. “I hope you don't mind. I was admiring your pictures.”

“Not at all,” Anna assured her as she deposited a tray holding iced tea and a plate of cookies on the coffee table. “That's what they're there for. Now, I think we can relax and have a chat. Sarah is trying to get George to talk, and I also left her with some crayons and paper and asked her to draw me some pictures of him. That should keep her busy for a few minutes, anyway.”

“You and your son both have a way with children,” Kate said as a compliment to her as she returned to her seat.

“Well, it's not hard with a lovely little girl like that.”

Kate grinned. “She wasn't so lovely a few minutes ago. I practically had to drag her in here. I figured you'd take one look and say, ‘No way.' I think she had a rough day at day care.” Her smile quickly faded.

“I guess that's what we're here to talk about,” Anna replied. “Eric tells me that your mother used to watch her, until she passed away a month ago. I'm so very sorry about that, my dear. The loss of a mother is one of life's greatest trials.”

The sincere sympathy in the older woman's voice brought a lump to Kate's throat, and she struggled to contain her tears. With all the turmoil since her mother's death—the disruption in the placid routine of their days, her worry about how Sarah was handling the death, and the necessity of making last-minute arrangements for her daughter's care—she'd had little time to grieve. But the ache of loss was heavy in her heart.

“Thank you. Mom and I were always close, but during these last few years since she came to live with us we forged an even stronger bond. My dad died about eight years ago, and Mom sold the farm in Ohio where we grew up and moved to an apartment in Cincinnati. She came to help out while Jack—my husband—was in the hospital, and when he died, she just stayed on. It was the best possible arrangement for all of us under the circumstances.”

“You must miss her very much.”

Kate nodded. The loneliness of her life had been thrown into stark relief by the death of her mother. Even her weekly phone calls to her sister didn't ease her sense of isolation.

“It was hard enough when Jack died. But Mom was
there for me to lean on. Now… Well, it's just me. And Sarah, of course. She's such a joy to me. A lifeline, really. Even more precious because we never thought she'd happen. My husband and I tried for five years before we had her. We'd almost given up when we discovered I was pregnant. And we both agreed that I'd stay home at least until she went to school. We were firm believers that mothering is a full-time job.”

Anna nodded approvingly. “I often think young mothers today make a mistake when they try to have it all. Not that you can't, of course. I just don't think you can have it all at the same time. ‘To everything there is a season.' And children need full-time mothers, unless there are extraordinary circumstances.”

“I agree completely. But as it turned out, I was faced with those extraordinary circumstances. I guess Eric told you what happened.”

“He filled me in on the basics. I understand you lost your husband shortly after Sarah was born.”

Kate nodded. “It was a nightmare. The accident happened on our first night out together since Sarah was born. We'd had an early dinner to celebrate our sixth anniversary.”

“Oh, my dear! I had no idea. How awful!” Anna's face registered shock and sympathy.

“Unfortunately, the worst was still to come,” Kate continued, her voice flat and lifeless. “Jack lived for seven months, but he never regained consciousness. By the time he died our finances were pretty much depleted. Long-term care is very expensive, and insurance doesn't cover everything. So I went back to teaching, sold our house and moved into an apartment. We've coped till now, but when Mom died, everything just fell apart again.” Her voice caught on the last word, and
she paused to take a deep breath, struggling to keep her tears at bay. Her voice was shaky when she continued. “I just can't bear to see Sarah so unhappy. That's why I'm desperate to find a more personal, one-on-one day-care situation. Someone who can give her the love and affection and attention that I would give her if I could be there. I guess your son thought you might be willing to pinch-hit, at least until I can find something more permanent. I'm hoping the same thing,” she admitted frankly.

Anna carefully set her iced-tea glass on a coaster and looked at Kate, her face concerned. “I'd like to help you, my dear. But you do understand that I'm not experienced in day care, don't you?”

Kate smiled. “You're a mother. And you raised a fine son, from what I can see. You seem kind and caring. And Sarah seems to have taken to you. Those are good enough credentials for me.” Kate had decided after five minutes in her presence that Anna was the answer to her prayer.

“Well, as Eric told me, this might be my one and only chance to play grandmother,” the older woman reflected. “And I would enjoy that.”

Kate looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Eric's divorced. Has been for almost five years. He and Cindy never had any children. Pity, too, when he loves children so much.”