The Best Christmas Ever (7 page)

Dread filled her. If she only got fired she’d be lucky. She wondered if he could bring her up on charges for abandonment or something.

Justin went to his desk and placed the papers there,
then turned and leaned against the surface. “You look nice today.”

She was shocked. But glad. She’d put on a new peach-colored top with her jeans knowing the shade complemented her coloring. Her hair was swept back into a French braid, clasped with a peach ribbon. While dressing this morning, she’d hoped taking more care with her appearance would lift her spirits, make her feel more feminine.

That was stupid, because she knew, deep down inside, that she would never be feminine enough. After all, she couldn’t have children…“I wanted to talk about this afternoon,” she said, blocking the painful thought from her mind.

“I figured you did,” Justin replied, his features relaxed.

“Look, Justin, no matter what you think of me, I wanted to tell you I’m really, really sorry for what happened. I got carried away with cooking and just let the hours slip by.”

“It’s all right, Sarah. It’s not entirely your fault. It’s partly Amy’s,” he added quietly.

Sarah stared, confused. What did this have to do with Amy?

“I don’t understand.”

How could Justin be so forgiving about this? She’d imagined he’d been waiting all along for an excuse to fire her and she’d just provided him one.

“Sit down.” He motioned to a chair.

Sarah reluctantly eased onto the edge.

“The night Amy left, Mickie was asleep. Of course, Amy didn’t wake her up to say good-bye. How could she have known Mickie would never see her again?”
He hesitated, then went on. “Anyway, Mickie has never really gotten over the feelings of abandonment caused by the way Amy left us. If someone is supposed to pick her up and they’re even a few minutes late, she can’t handle it.” He explained. “I’ve been late to pick her up myself, due to traffic or whatever only to find she’s gone off with a friend.”

Justin shook his head. “So far, no harm has been done. We’ve had long talks about her actions and she always promises not to go off again unless it was a real emergency.”

“A real emergency?”

“I explained that if it was a real emergency—and her ride didn’t come for say, an hour—she could go to her teacher, or find a policeman. Or even walk by herself to her friend’s house who lives across from the school.”

“Ah…” Sarah said. “That explains it I guess, but it still doesn’t excuse me for forgetting to pick her up.”

Justin shook his head. “How about if I just say I think Mickie takes after her aunt?”

Sarah thought about that. Her heartbeat increased as she wondered exactly. what he could mean. He loved his daughter. Did that mean he saw something good in her, Sarah? “I’m not exactly sure how to take that.”

“Take it easy, Sarah. What I’m trying to say is I don’t eat baby-sitters for lunch over minor mistakes.”

“This wasn’t minor.”

“Yes, it was. Stephanie picked up Mickie from school, probably with some persuasion from Mickie,” he added darkly. “I’ll have a talk with Mickie again about waiting and taking rides from strangers. I’m sure
you’ll never forget her again, but if you are a little late, call the school.”

She nodded. And trust God to keep Mickie safe. Boy, had she prayed while searching for Mickie and God had once again answered prayers by keeping her safe. “I’ll finish dinner and get it on the table,” she said, backing toward the door. “Thanks.”

Justin nodded.

She couldn’t understand why Justin had been so calm. She’d just known he was going to fire her and she’d once again lose the chance at the only family she would ever have. Longingly, she touched her stomach. For a moment a deep regret at what she couldn’t have touched her soul. But then she was able to thank God. Because of that minor affliction she had woken up to what she already possessed and had neglected over the past two years. She had a wonderful niece and, she was beginning to see, an equally wonderful brother-in-law.

It would be enough. She had family, though she would never have her own family. She could surely forget that detail and go on with life, couldn’t she?

J
ustin opened his eyes.

It was dark, the curtains pulled. Glancing at the bedside clock he saw it was two-thirty in the morning.

What had wakened him? Mickie hadn’t crawled into bed with him. He listened but heard no noise in his room to account for the reason he’d awakened.

A whisper of noise reached him.

He sat up in bed, the crisp cotton sheet sliding down his chest. Listening again, he couldn’t tell what it was he’d heard.

It hadn’t come from downstairs. The alarm was on for the night and hadn’t been triggered.

What could it have been? Maybe Mickie was having her nightmares again. She’d had nightmares right after Amy had died. But it had been at least six months since the last one.

He swung his long legs out of bed. After grabbing a sweatshirt and jeans from the end of the bed, he slipped them on.

He padded barefoot to the door, running a tired hand through his disheveled hair, then made his way down the hallway. He paused outside Mickie’s door, then pushed it wide and peeked in to where he could see her silhouette form in bed. She lay still, curled up in a ball, one hand tucked under her chin, the other under the side of her face. She looked peaceful.

Frowning, he went over and tucked the sheet more securely about her. Had she gone back to sleep so quickly? he wondered.

He left Mickie’s room. Just as he started down the hall, thinking he must have heard something downstairs such as the heating system, the sound came again. A whimpering moan, barely audible, sounding so forlorn that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Had he believed in ghosts, he would have thought the place haunted. But he didn’t.

The sound emanated from somewhere he could now easily identify as he stood this close to Mickie’s door in the hallway.

It was from Sarah’s room.

He walked slowly over to her door. He listened and heard something—he wasn’t sure what—then it was quiet. He tapped on the door.

“No, no, no!”

Her broken cries chilled him. No one could be in there. They would have run when he’d knocked. She had to be having a nightmare. “Sarah?” he called out.

She didn’t answer.

He cracked open the door, just to check. Maybe her nightmare was over and he could sneak back to his room. But he knew that wasn’t true the minute he saw his sister-in-law. She thrashed about in bed, heart-wrenching
whimpers escaping her throat. What chilled him the most was the way she tried to hold them back, only allowing them to escape when she gasped for air.

“Sarah?” he said, louder, then glanced toward Mickie’s room. He didn’t want to wake the little girl. No telling how she would react if she saw Sarah like this.

He stepped into the room, pushed the door closed, then hurried to the edge of the bed. She was asleep on top of the covers, fully clothed. A book about child care lay open on the floor. It looked as if she’d fallen asleep reading tonight. “Sarah, honey, come on, wake up. It’s okay.”

She stilled for a moment, then thrashed again. “No, oh, no, please,” she pleaded in a whisper.

He edged onto the side of the bed and raised a hand to her shoulder. Touching it, he shook her. “Come on, honey, wake up. It’s okay.”

The torment he saw on her face tore at his heart. Her eyes opened, but he wasn’t sure if she was seeing him or not. Pain, excruciating and unbearable, filled her gaze.

“There’re no babies. They’re all just out of my reach.”

Alarmed, he cupped her cheek. “Look at me, Sarah. You’re dreaming.” She stared at him and blinked. He could tell she’d finally woken up. “It’s okay,” he soothed her. “You were just dreaming. Something about the babies.”

Her eyes slowly lost their unfocused quality and she gazed at him. “Babies?” she asked, then blinked again. She glanced around wildly before shuttering her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She was lying. He could see a bleakness, even a shame, in her eyes. What was going on here?

She shuddered from the aftereffects of the dream, he was sure, then she focused her vulnerable gaze on him again.

Maybe it was the abject look of need that made him notice her as a woman, but in that instant he did. He inhaled the perfumed scent of her soap and shampoo. Her skin was velvety soft where he cupped her cheek, her hair like silk. Had he ever noticed that before? Or had he noticed how the slope of her cheekbone and curve of her jaw made her look so feminine? And those eyes. Beautifully blue and so expressive. And staring at him just as intensely as he stared at her.

He cleared his throat, shocked at his attraction to her. Standing, he backed up. “I’m sorry for entering your room at night, Sarah. I promised you privacy. But you were having a bad dream. You had me worried.”

He tried to smile but failed miserably.

She slid up in bed, pulling an afghan up to her armpits he noticed, even though she was fully dressed underneath. Great, she probably thought who knew what, waking up to find a man sitting on the edge of her bed. A dull flush crept up his cheeks. He was thankful for the darkness. He’d been married, had dated for years before that, and yet he’d never found himself in this situation.

“Sometimes, when I’m stressed out, my dreams can take an odd turn.”

She still wasn’t telling him the truth. He could tell by the look in her lovely eyes. But right now, he thought accepting her words was the better part of valor. He didn’t want to stay, knew it wasn’t safe to
stay because of his sudden urge to brush the stray strands of hair from her cheek, his impulse to comfort her, to persuade her to trust him.

“If you ever want to talk, I’d be happy to listen. I don’t want you feeling
stressed out
over this job, Sarah. You’re family.”

Family. He had to remember that.

“Thank you, Justin, but I’m fine now.”

“Well then.” He retreated a couple of steps. “I’ll just leave.

He backed into the wall, hooked the door with a finger and was gone before Sarah could say anything else.

Sarah watched him leave, the remnant of the dream fading and leaving her with only the longing she’d felt when she’d looked into Justin’s eyes. Was she falling in love with him?

She couldn’t feel that way about him. She just couldn’t.

But she did.

She sighed and leaned back against the headboard. And when he’d seen the look in her eye, his distress had been obvious. It was apparent that he didn’t share the same feelings she did. But it had simply been so easy to care for him. He was a good father, a good man from all she could tell. And yes, she admitted, he’d probably been a good man when she’d first met him, too. He had been trying to right what his partner had done.

But what was there to love about her? She had tried to take his child; she had most probably assisted in the problems in his marriage because she hadn’t come
to visit her sister. And now she had lost his child today. Not to mention that she had her own dark secret.

She remembered Stephanie Williams’s scrutiny when she’d gone to get Mickie, the way the woman had studied her, then lifted a haughty eyebrow, as if she found Sarah wanting. It had angered Sarah just a bit, but also made her nervous. Stephanie evidently knew Justin well enough to feel free to pick up his child. Sarah had wondered if Stephanie might just have a right to be angry that Sarah had forgotten Mickie. Was Justin interested in Stephanie?

Still, she refused to rise to the bait and argue it with anyone but Justin. She might be wrong, but it was Justin’s place to reprimand her, not some strange woman’s.

Stiffening, she had gathered Mickie and her things and had come home.

She’d expected to be fired.

But she had received forgiveness, instead.

Something she had deserved termination for was not going to endear her to a man she’d already hurt. Still, he had forgiven her.

She shook her head in disbelief at where her thoughts were leading. Justin could never have feelings for her. He had loved Amy. He couldn’t be interested in her. He certainly wouldn’t be interested in her if he found out her secret, the secret she’d been dreaming about.

Tears filled her eyes. No, Justin was too good a father not to want more children one day. He’d even told her so, that day they’d played with Mickie. So no matter how she felt, she knew those feelings would never be returned.

* * *

Sarah was just finishing up breakfast when Justin came in from running. She jumped when the back door opened.

He stopped short when he saw her. He looked great. Wearing gray jogging pants and a T-shirt that was now soaked with sweat, his hair in disarray from the wind, he still was handsome enough to make any woman take second notice. She hadn’t been surprised when she’d first found out Justin ran. She’d guessed he exercised regularly to stay in such good shape.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I just thought I was the first one up,” she replied, pouring him a glass of juice. “I didn’t realize you’d gone out already.”

He nodded his thanks. “Mickie should be down soon.” Nervously, he glanced at the wall clock. “I think she’ll have something to say to you.”

Sarah pushed at a stray piece of hair, feeling a smudge of flour on her face. She’d gotten out the cookbook, intent on making pancakes this morning for Justin and Mickie to try to make amends for the disaster yesterday. At his words, she paused in her actions. “Oh, Justin, you didn’t yell at her over what happened, did you? I told you it was my fault.”

Justin finished his juice, then placed the empty glass in the sink. “Let’s just say I explained to Mickie that friend or not, she should never, ever get into someone else’s car. I explained how it had scared both of us.”

Sarah relaxed. “Oh.” She turned her back on him and stirred the batter. “That’s fine. I just didn’t want her to be in trouble for my mistake.”

She heard the squeak of his running shoes as he slowly crossed the floor. Tension crawled up her spine when she realized he was right behind her.

“I think we need to have a talk about this ‘forgive and forget’ thing.”

His words sent a shiver racing along her spine. She sensed his closeness, felt his concern for her, and his sensitivity to her feelings as well as Mickie’s. She realized how much she would love to go on experiencing that every day.

“What do you mean?” she asked, breathless. Her cheeks pinkened over her thoughts. She wanted to keep her back to him, afraid he might read the need of companionship in her eyes.

He wouldn’t let her. He gently clasped her left shoulder and turned her until she faced him.

Her gaze rested on his chest. She couldn’t look above that, until he put a hand under her chin and lifted it. When her eyes met his, she saw tenderness and understanding.

“You don’t have to earn forgiveness, Sarah. Not for what happened yesterday or for what happened last night. Or even before that.”

“Nothing happened last night,” she argued.

He smiled, a small tilting of the corners of his mouth that said he thought different. “Stop trying to earn forgiveness and just accept your place here as family.”

“I’m the housekeeper,” she whispered.

He smiled that smile again. “You take care of the house, but you’re more than just the housekeeper,” he said, his brown eyes tenderly perusing her reaction to his words.

She tried not to show him any emotion, but with him holding her chin, it was impossible for him not to glean some hint of what she felt. She swallowed then nodded. “Fine.”

His index finger stroked under her chin, then he released her and stepped back. “Good.”

She thought she was off the hook when he headed for the living room. But he stopped just short of the room and spun back around. “If you’re not doing anything after breakfast, would you like to go to church with Mickie and me?”

Sarah stilled. He’d noticed she hadn’t attended last week? She hadn’t told him, or mentioned her reason. It was just so hard to go to the church that André’s father went to and see him sitting there, looking through her as if she never existed.

She missed church dreadfully.

Maybe this was the opening of another door she should go through. She had intended to pull out a telephone book and start searching the directory after breakfast. But this would be so much better. She’d be going to a church where she knew at least two people. Granted, only one would be with her during the service, the very one who made her heart race every time he looked at her.

But wouldn’t that be better than going into a church alone? And if she liked the church, then possibly her search for a new place would be over.

What would it hurt?

Coming to a decision, she turned to Justin and smiled at him. “I’d love to.”

His eyes flared briefly. “Great. We leave here at
nine-thirty to get there on time. I’ll make sure Mickie is up and see you when breakfast is ready.”

She nodded.

“Oh, and Sarah?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Just to give you a little extra time this morning, Mickie and I will load the dishwasher while you change.”

“Oh, you don’t—”

“Don’t argue,” he admonished. “We’ll be down in a bit.”

And he was gone, just like that, leaving Sarah standing alone in the kitchen. But the loneliness no longer bothered her. Sarah suddenly felt better than she had in months. She realized it was because she was looking forward to going to church with no worries over what she wore or how she looked. What an eye-opening revelation, she thought, stunned. She’d always felt pressured to dress for André’s father. But Justin wouldn’t care if her dress was simple or elegant, if she wore her hair in a French braid instead of a French twist. She had a feeling Justin was the type who enjoyed going to church simply to worship. And she was looking forward to that, indeed.

With a sense of freedom, she whispered another small prayer.
Thank You, Father, that You led me here. I have a feeling I was in a bigger slump than I realized. Realizing how much I had dreaded going to church only goes to show me how out of line my priorities had gotten. Thank You for the joy You’ve restored and the forgiveness I saw in Justin’s eyes. And most especially, Father, thank You that I’m once again
going to be back in church with someone who evidently shares the excitement of going.