A Tale of Two Christmas Letters Read online

  Which was, quite frankly, what she or any other woman would be in his life.

  * * *

  Good question, Jack thought, recoating the roller and painting the last section of wall with long, smooth strokes. And one whose answer had definitely changed since he had found himself butting into Bess’s personal business. Given in to impulse. Kissed her.

  Of course, as fate would have it, she’d come to her senses and called a halt to their steamy embrace. That told him something, too. They needed to be direct with each other. And cautious.

  After all, they could both still get hurt here.

  Aware she was still staring at him, patiently awaiting his answer, he cleared his throat. “I haven’t wanted to date because, at first, I was so grief stricken I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone but Gayle.”

  Bess nodded, accepting that.

  “Then, as time passed and the mourning subsided and I was finally able to accept everything, I was too busy.” Or at least he had told himself that every time he noticed just how beautiful and sexy Bess was.

  “And now?”

  Still lusting after you, darlin’. Sensing she would not want to hear that, though, he said merely, “I’m taking it one step at a time.”

  He definitely wanted a second kiss with Bess. Maybe even a third, if it helped make their holiday season a little merrier. Beyond that, was it fair to pursue her, given what she ultimately wanted? A husband and a baby of her own?

  He could give Bess a lot. Could he give her that? Even half of that?

  Right now...did he have to? Maybe it would be enough to start paying her back for some of her many kindnesses the last three years.

  “And speaking of taking it one day at a time...” He set his roller down in the tray and wiped his hands on the rag. “Now that this is done, do you have plans for the rest of the day?”

  Looking as ready to put the tragedy of the past behind them as he was, she lifted her chin. “Really, Doc?” she countered sassily. “You need another favor?”

  “Actually,” he said, crossing to her side to take her hands in his, “the girls and I’d like to do one for you. Maybe help you get a Christmas tree? Bring it back and set it up?”

  Chapter Five

  “But you have to get a Christmas tree!” Nicole protested, when Bess met up with them later at the Kiwanis lot set up in a big field on the outskirts of town.

  Lindsay looked at Bess, crestfallen. “You’ll be sad without one.”

  Bess pivoted, expecting Jack to help her out. Instead, he shrugged, as if to say the girls sort of had a point. “Are you sure having a puppy precludes one?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly, breathing in the lovely scent of all the evergreen trees.

  Although that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t want one. She feared having a tree this year could make her melancholy, and she was currently taking steps...a lot of steps...after her two-letters screwup to avoid just that.

  With a sincere smile, she volunteered, “But I can still help you all pick out yours.” His three girls could be a lot to handle in the midst of a busy tree lot the day after Thanksgiving. “So what did you have in mind? Big or little? Green or flocked in white?”

  Chloe and Nicole slipped their hands in hers, while Lindsay, who at six felt she was too big to have to hold someone’s hand in a public place, moved close enough to Jack he would not worry. “It’s got to be big enough so it’s taller than Daddy,” Lindsay declared.

  Which meant over six feet four inches tall, Bess noted.

  “Why is that, sweetheart?” Perplexed, Jack looked down at his oldest.

  “Because, Daddy,” Lindsay explained, “trees have to be bigger than the people. That way, you have to stand on your tippy toes or get a chair to stand on to put the star on top.”

  “But,” Nicole countered importantly, “not so big there is no room for the presents and the puppy Santa is going to bring me.”

  Chloe beamed up at Bess. “It has to be just right!”

  Jack’s gaze met Bess’s over the tops of his little girls’ heads. When he looked at her like that, like the kind, loving dad he was, she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Sounds like we have a plan, then,” he mused.

  Half an hour and many rejected pines later, they had an actual tree for Jack’s place. As they headed home, the bevy of questions continued.

  “Can we put the lights on tonight, Daddy?”

  “Sure. As long as it doesn’t get too late.”

  “Can Bess help?”

  She lifted a hand, setting the limits on that inquiry herself. “I’ll help you get it inside and in the stand. Maybe put the lights on.”

  “Then we can have pizza!” Nicole shouted happily. “’Cause it’s Friday!”

  “Can Bess stay for pizza, Daddy?” Chloe asked.

  “Sure, if she wants to,” Jack said.

  Did she? The times she did stay, she always felt like part of their family unit. Which was dangerous emotionally, because she wasn’t. But if she left or passed on the opportunity to be with them, she often felt bereft. So she was really on the fence, trying to figure out what would be best on that particular night.

  Luckily, she didn’t have to give an answer right away, because Jack was turning onto Spring Street.

  As soon as they got the stand and tree inside, the questions started again. “When do you get your puppy?” Lindsay asked.

  Bess knelt to hold the stand still while Jack fitted the trunk in the bottom of the metal holder. “Three weeks.”

  Jack motioned for the two of them to change places, so she stood and grabbed on to the trunk while he knelt at her feet. “What are you going to name her?” Chloe asked.

  Bess leaned her body to the left while Jack reached around, beside and behind her, tightening the screws. She looked down at his thick dark hair, still tousled from the winter wind. “I haven’t decided yet. But I’m thinking about calling her Grace.”

  “We’re going to name the puppy Santa brings us after Mommy. And her real name was Abigayle, not Gayle, and Daddy always said Mommy was pretty as a princess. So we’re going to call her Princess Abigayle.”

  This was apparently news to Jack. Although after a moment’s tension, he seemed to take it in stride.

  “So you should call your dog Princess Grace,” Nicole concluded.

  “Ah.” Bess and Jack exchanged glances, once again of the very same mind.

  “Not a good idea.” Jack went to get water for the tree.

  Lindsay scowled. “Why not?”

  “Oh, um.” A whole host of reasons. Starting with the fact the real-life Princess Grace suffered a particularly tragic ending. “Because...” Bess made it up as she went. “...we would want our dogs to have pretty different names, so they wouldn’t get confused.” She caught Jack’s nod of approval as he returned, then turned back to the girls. “But we could call her Lady Grace.” A registered purebred, her new pup was going to need several names anyway.

  “I like that.” Jack smiled.

  “Princess Abigayle and Lady Grace,” Lindsay said, smiling, too. “Can they have playdates?”

  Bess took a leap of faith. “Probably.”

  “You know, we don’t know for sure that Santa is going to be able to bring you a puppy,” Jack said. After adding water, he draped the base with a skirt. Bess knelt to help him straighten it. “But,” he continued, “I think there might still be time. We could still get one from Mrs. Winfield.”

  Thereby negating Bess’s need to secretly babysit their puppy until Christmas morning. Which would certainly cut back on temptation, she thought.

  “No, Santa’s going to bring us a puppy!” Chloe said stubbornly.

  “And come down the chimney and put it under our tree!” Lindsay chimed in. “Or he will when we send him our letters. Daddy, when are we going to
send him our letters?”

  Jack frowned. “I think you need to work on them some more. Maybe ask for a few more things, so that if he doesn’t have something...”

  Like a real live baby brother, Bess thought.

  “...he can bring you something else and you will still be happy with it.”

  “Like a mommy?” Chloe asked, innocent as ever.

  Bess felt Jack’s pain. Doing her best to keep her expression gentle, she steered his daughter in another direction. “Or some new dress-up clothing. Like the princess gowns they have in Frozen.” One of the girls’ favorite movies, they had watched it together countless times.

  Chloe perked up. “They have those?”

  “I think so.” Bess sat down and whipped out her phone. “Let’s see if I can find a picture.” She typed in the request, then scrolled through the images that popped up.

  “Those are pretty,” Chloe said, cuddling close on the sofa.

  Bess wrapped her arm around the child, realizing all over again how much she wanted a family of her own. “I think so, too.”

  Chloe sucked on her thumb. “Can I ask Santa for one?”

  “I’m sure you can,” Bess soothed, trying hard not to see how relieved Jack looked.

  “And a real live baby brother and a mommy,” Chloe added.

  * * *

  “So much for asking them to add to their wish lists,” Jack said later, when he and Bess were carrying the empty ornament storage containers back out to the garage.

  She shrugged, looking lovely despite her dishevelment. But then, three hours of marathon tree decorating with three little ones could do that to you.

  Seeming to realize her hair was slipping out of its clip yet again, she released it. “At least the things they each picked out online are gettable.”

  He nodded, still feeling a little overwhelmed. Not Bess, though; this all seemed right up her alley. He moved the stepladder over to the high wooden shelf that ran along the perimeter of the garage.

  “And you did explain to them that none of them will get absolutely everything on their lists,” Bess told him. “So that will help.”

  She handed him a plastic storage box and he moved a few steps up to put it on the shelf. Jack exhaled in frustration. “It’d be a tad easier if Lindsay and Nicole weren’t going to see their most heartfelt wishes—of getting a new puppy and having Santa visit our house this year—come true. And Chloe weren’t still hooked on the idea of getting a new mommy and a real live baby brother.”

  Bess sent him a sympathetic glance. “Because Chloe still won’t be getting what she ultimately wants from Saint Nick. Whereas her two older sisters will.”

  “Right. And none of the items that Chloe picked out online...not the princess costume or the easel or the new baking set for her play kitchen...are going to come close to what her sisters are receiving from Santa. At least in emotional terms.”

  “I know.” Bess sighed, briefly looking as stymied as he felt. “It is a thorny situation. But there’s still time to come up with a solution.”

  “I just wish I intuitively knew a little more about what little girls liked in terms of toys and stuff, so I wouldn’t always feel so out-of-my-depth in situations like this. And could instinctively come up with a present that would dazzle Chloe so much it would make up for the fact that—” he was forced to clear his throat “—she and her sisters don’t have a mother. And won’t ever have a baby brother.” Even though...in some perfect world...he could see himself wanting a complete family again, too.

  Sadness came and went in Bess’s eyes, the way it always did when the topic of his late wife came up. Motioning for him to stay put, she went on tiptoe to hand him another. “Can’t your sister help you?”

  He relieved Bess of her burden with a smile of thanks. Noticing how the long tunic and leggings she’d changed into post-painting molded to her slender torso, he said, “Lulu and Sam have their hands full with their triplets now.”

  “Your mom?”

  As he reached down to get yet another plastic storage container, he couldn’t help but note how the scoop neckline of her top gaped slightly as she worked, revealing the curves of her breasts. “She thinks if I’m planning to stay single that I need to either research and learn about gifts for little girls on my own or ask some of my female friends for help.”

  Glad they were done, he came back down the ladder.

  Bess stepped out of his way. “Do you think that’s a way of getting you back out there, dating again?”

  Jack closed the ladder. “Maybe. Everyone I know expects me to marry again.” He paused, looking down at her. “Except you.”

  Looking beautiful and kissable and sympathetic as all get-out, Bess met his eyes. “Falling in love isn’t the kind of thing you can fake. Or simply conjure up by wish. If it were, well—” she shrugged “—let’s just say I would have been hitched a long time ago.”

  He returned the ladder to its place. “But you still want to be.”

  Suddenly, her mood became as cautious as his. “In theory. If the man and the situation were right. Of course I would.”

  He was aware all over again just how little he knew about what was in her heart. “And until then?”

  “I really don’t want to settle, Jack. I’ve done that before.”

  Doing his best to respect the parameters she had set, which meant not giving her the physical hug she seemed to need, he guessed, “With the guy you were engaged to marry.”

  “Until he realized he still loved his prior girlfriend, anyway. Not that it was really a surprise, in retrospect.”

  He lifted his brow.

  Ignoring his gentle prodding, she lifted her chin and speared him with a testy gaze. “I had two other serious boyfriends before then. One in high school and one in college. Both were all in when we were dating. Then they left me, because they still weren’t over their previous girlfriends and didn’t honestly know if they would ever be. So—” she blew out a frustrated breath “—no more rebound romances for me. If I want a family, and I do, I’m going to have to build one another way. Starting with my new puppy.”

  Who was destined to bring her much happiness. That, he knew. “Are you really going to call her Lady Grace?” he asked, before the barriers around her heart went all the way up again.

  Bess relaxed. The corners of her lips tipped up into an inviting smile. “I think so. Kind of has a ring to it.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her tunic. “What about you and Princess Abigayle?”

  He fell in step beside her. They closed the door on the detached garage and headed for the house. “It also has a ring to it.”

  “It won’t remind you too much of Gayle?”

  Jack shook his head. He would always miss his wife, but the overwhelming sadness was gone. “No one ever called her by her full name. So, no.” And if it helped his girls feel closer to their mother, he was all for it. As they moved up the steps of his Victorian, he looked over at Bess. “Nice save with Chloe, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Their gazes intersected. The moment drew out. And all Jack could think about was kissing her again. “So are you joining us for pizza tonight?”

  “Thanks,” Bess said, “but I need to get home. Get that wreath I bought today decorated and on the front door.”

  They continued on into the house. The girls were sitting at their craft table in the family room, coloring more pictures to include with their letters to Santa.

  For not the first time, Jack found himself hating to see Bess go. “Got plans for tomorrow?”

  Looking both happy and relieved, Bess admitted, “As a matter of fact, Doc, I do.”

  * * *

  “I wish Bess could have stayed for dinner,” Lindsay lamented as Jack set out the pizza.

  With Mrs. D. off with her own family for Thanksgiving weekend, it was j
ust him and the three girls. And though it was normally cozy and sweet, tonight it definitely felt like something—or someone—was missing. To the girls, too?

  “Bess explained why she couldn’t stay.” With a reassuring smile, Jack doled out slices to Lindsay and Nicole and cut Chloe’s pizza into pieces. “She’s going out of town with her two sisters for the rest of the weekend.” He helped himself to a couple of pieces.

  Lindsay picked melted cheese off her pizza and popped it into her mouth. “What are they going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Jack savored the mix of ingredients on his pie as he took a healthy bite. “She didn’t say.” And her deliberate mysteriousness was not like her. But then, maybe there was still a lot he didn’t know about Bess. And should.

  * * *

  To his consternation, he didn’t hear a word from Bess all weekend. He didn’t see her at the hospital Monday morning, either, so he went to the staff cafeteria over lunch, hoping to run into her there.

  No such luck.

  He was just about to get up from the table when Tim Briscoe approached him. Unlike the surgical staff, who all wore scrubs, the young pediatrician was dressed in a shirt and tie, perfectly creased slacks and suede loafers. His thick auburn hair was as neatly arranged as his clothes.

  “Got a minute, Jack?” he asked. Barely thirty, he looked as green as most physicians fresh out of residency.

  “Sure.” Always willing to help a colleague, Jack gestured for him to have a seat.

  With a huff of relief, Tim put down his tray and settled opposite him. “I finally got Bess Monroe to agree to go out with me.”

  Jack felt a strange sensation in his gut.

  “I know the two of you are friends,” Tim continued, earnest as ever. “And I need some advice.”

  Reminding himself that at the end of the day all he wanted was for Bess to be happy, Jack forced himself to be as chivalrous as his mother had raised him to be. “How can I help?”

  “Well, I was going to take her to The Wagon Wheel restaurant for dinner, but then I ran into her this morning and realized if I want to have a chance with her, I’m really going to have to up my game.”