“That’s quite all right. So, Chloe, what are you asking Santa Claus for this year?”
“Oh, Santa doesn’t stop here.” She picked up a silver glitter stick and glided it across her snowflake.
“He doesn’t? Why not?” Judging by the trailer’s contents, he suspected he knew the answer.
She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “Momma says he runs out of time because we are the last trailer in the park. She said she talked to him at the mall, and this year, he wants to see our tree. We’ve been working hard on these decorations, so he’ll see our pretty tree from the window and want to come in.”
Tate’s heart melted. “Well, I’m sure he’s going to love these decorations. And you know what he’s going to want when he gets here?”
“What?” Chloe’s eyes widened.
“Christmas cookies! And you’re in luck. Some really nice ladies are going to bring you some later today to leave out for Santa.”
“Really? A boy in my class says that he leaves Christmas cookies out each year, and you know what?”
“What?” Tate was thoroughly amused with the conversation he was having with the five year old. He had forgotten what it was like to anticipate Christmas.
“Santa eats them all!” She giggled.
He laughed with her. “I’m sure he does.” Jack had returned with his tools. “How does this look?” He handed the snowflake to Chloe and stood up to help Jack.
“Beautiful!” she screamed.
Minutes later, the plump Douglas Fir stood magnificently inside the trailer. Its pine scent filled the air. Even undecorated, Tate marveled at how exquisite it was.
“Here.” Chloe handed Tate his snowflake. “Put it on the tree.”
He took the white cutout from her tiny hand and kneeled down, poking the snowflake gently through a branch. “How about right here?”
“Perfect,” Chloe said. She placed the snowflake she had made next to his.
“Hey, Tate. You about ready?” Jack called from the doorway.
“Yes, sir.” He lowered his hand to shake Chloe’s tiny one. From her puzzled expression, he knew she didn’t know what to do with it. He reached for her hand and gently shook it. “Merry Christmas, Chloe. You too, Danielle.”
Chloe continued to hold onto his hand. “Will you come back and see our tree tonight? Maybe you could come back for dinner? We’re having spaghetti and meatballs!”
“Christmas Eve dinners are my favorite because you know what that means?”
“What?”
“Leftovers!” He squeezed Chloe’s hand.
“Pleeeeeeease come back,” she pleaded.
He let go of her hand and patted her head. “If I can, I will.” His eyes met Kristen’s and guilt washed over him. They both knew he wouldn’t be returning.
He paused in the short doorway and waved goodbye. Danielle gave him a shy wave.
“Looks like you made two little friends.” Jack opened the door and motioned for Tate to go first.
Tate smiled. His eyes were watering. “Will this day get any easier?”
“No. Not really.” Jack headed toward the truck. “But it may just put your life into perspective.”
“I think it just did.”
Amanda added all of the ingredients from her mother’s sugar cookie recipe into a large mixing bowl. After helping make these cookies for so many years, she knew the recipe by heart. Her hand clenched the wooden spoon as she mixed in the eggnog. Batter flew out of the bowl and onto the floor.
“Son of an elf!”
She bent down and wiped the splattered batter with a washcloth. She was still fuming from earlier. Had Brad knocked Melanie up shortly after he’d broken up with her? Had he met Melanie while they were dating? What if he broke up with her that night two years ago to be with Melanie?
She wasn’t in love with Brad anymore, but hearing the news that he’d fathered a baby shortly after they’d broken up delivered a fresh blow to her ego. How could she have been so wrong about him and what they meant to each other? She had picked up and relocated to a different part of the country to get over him, whereas he’d quickly moved on and was now a father—of two.
“Hey, honey.” Her mother scurried in, interrupting Amanda’s thoughts. She had on a black parka and bright red scarf. She must be heading out to make her deliveries.
“So where is this love child?” Amanda smoothed the apron she had put on. She now realized the child stocking hanging from the mantle was for their son—who she assumed was named Max. He must have been upstairs sound asleep since it was so late when they got in.
“Amanda!” Her mother shot her a disapproving look. “Someone might hear you.”
“I just find it odd that the baby isn’t here.”
“I believe they went to visit Melanie’s mother earlier this morning. She’s in the nursing home on Route 54. She has stage four cancer.”
“Oh.” Amanda stared at her feet. “I’m sorry. Look, I don’t mean to be hard on Brad or Melanie. I know they’re going through a hard time with the fire and all. I’m just frustrated by all the secrecy.”
“We just thought the news would upset you. You haven’t been home in two years. We wanted to spare your feelings. That’s all.”
“But I was going to find out this weekend? Or were you going to lock them all upstairs?”
“We were planning on telling you as soon as you arrived last night, but then your sister went into labor.”
“Still, I’m a grown woman. You should have told me before this. I could have handled it.” She picked up the wooden spoon and went back to stirring the batter. This time without the death grip. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”
Her mother beamed. She walked over and brushed Amanda’s bangs out of her eyes. A motherly habit she never could break. “We’re all looking forward to getting to know Tate this weekend.”
“I am too.”
Her mother raised her eyebrow.
“I mean I’m looking forward to your getting to know him. I already know him.” That explanation seemed enough to erase the confused look from her mother’s face.
Amanda bit her lip. Outside of work, there wasn’t much she knew about Tate except he had horrible taste in music and wore ridiculous sweaters, but he also knew how to deliver one amazing, knock-your-socks-off kiss on demand.
Her mother grabbed her car keys from the counter. “I was thinking that after you finish with the cookies you could take your grandmother over to the hospital to visit with Quinn and the baby?” She turned to leave the kitchen. “If that’s okay?”
Amanda followed her to the living room. “You don’t need me to deliver any ornaments and cookies?”
“No, I think the volunteers have it covered. Perhaps you and Tate could take the afternoon off and spend some time together.” Her mother walked over to Grandma Turner who was watching television in her rocking chair.
“Mom,” she said over the TV. “Amanda is going to bake Christmas cookies this morning and then take you to see Quinn and the baby. Let her know if you need anything.”
“You don’t need to shout.” Grandma Turner peered up from her rocking chair. “Where is that young gentleman Amanda brought home with her? I want to see him, too.”
“He’s helping Jack and Alex this morning. You’ll have plenty of time to get to know Tate this weekend. As will we all.” She turned toward Amanda. “I’m going to stop by the mall and buy Tate a gift to open tomorrow. Is there anything he needs?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. We’re not doing gifts this year.”
“You’re not?”
“We’re saving up for a vacation. A long one—” Amanda added, “to Africa.”
“Really?” Her mother shot her another skeptical look. “Well, you know it’s tradition to open gifts before Christmas dinner. I’ll just pick up something. What does he like?”