All in for Christmas, page 15
Chapter
Fourteen
Dean holds my glove in his, and we glide around the ice, going faster and faster, weaving in and out of other skaters, and with each turn around the rink, my spirits grow lighter. No sense in fretting over things that may come, when I can’t control them. The key lies in listening to Mary Christmas and truly learning to enjoy. And I am enjoying this outing, so much. It’s fun to cut loose and have this wintertime adventure with my family. I laugh, feeling carefree. “This is great!” I call as winds muffle our voices. “So much fun!” We went on lots of ice skating dates in college, so this is a natural for us.
“Yeah!” Dean concurs. “Thanks to Missy for the tickets!”
“Thank you, Missy!” I call out into the night. Dean holds my hand tighter, then suddenly he slows, dragging me over to the side of the rink, by the railing.
“Dean? What is it?” I see Mom and Roger on the far side of the rink with the kids on their park bench, chatting happily and chomping down on their chili dogs. Henry sits on Mom’s lap and Eleanor sits in the middle, between Mom and Roger. They form a picturesque group in their winter hats and coats.
He pulls me toward him in a hug, my bulky coat pressed against his. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Oh yeah, what?” Skaters bustle past us, obscuring Mom and Roger and the kids from view. Dean’s head dips toward me, his mouth hovering over mine. My heart skips a beat at the dreamy look in his eyes. The nearness of his kiss. And suddenly, I so badly want him to kiss me.
“Paige Burton,” he says. “Will you go out with me?”
My cheeks warm. “Aren’t we already going out?”
He glances around the crowded ice skating rink. “You mean here?” He shakes his head. “I mean on a real date, just the two of us.” His gaze washes over me, filling me with so much contentment and joy. What if there were no other reality and this was my new world forever? Could I adjust to the transition? Three days ago, I thought not, but now my life is changing. I’m changing.
A lump forms in my throat and I glance at Mom sitting on the park bench with the kids and Roger. Mary Christmas said she couldn’t promise what would happen to Mom if I go back to the other realm, or my program if I stay here. And yet, I’m frustratingly not being offered a real choice here, am I? And since I’m not, I’ll just have to make the most of each moment I’m here until I learn where I’m bound to stay.
I stare up at my handsome husband and his dark eyes dance. “There’s nothing I’d love more than going out with you,” I say, meaning it absolutely. How could I not want to spend time alone with this totally amazing man? I tilt my chin and quip, “On a real date.”
Dean brings his lips to mine in the sweetest, most tender kiss. “Good.”
“When?” His arms are still around me. Others skating by are starting to stare, or sneak glances our way. Do they imagine us as new lovers? It kind of feels like we are. Brand new yet familiar. Wonderful and warm.
“How about tomorrow?”
I gasp because that’s so unplanned. Practically spontaneous, and how much spontaneity can an always-planning woman take in one week? Still. I suppose I am being given twenty-four hours’ notice, and—assuming I’m still here tomorrow—my schedule’s clear. My stomach quivers with excitement over going out with Dean. Just the two of us, like a serious romantic couple. “What about Henry and Eleanor?”
“I already spoke with my folks,” he says. “They’re coming over to babysit.”
“Then it sounds like we’re set.”
He holds me close and kisses me again. “I was hoping you’d say that, because I’ve got a special surprise.”
“Oh?” My heart beats erratically. Is he giving me an early Christmas gift? I’ve got almost nothing for him. Just a simple coffee mug. I stare across the town square and past the holiday market. Though I can’t see Second Chances from here, I know that it’s there, holding that telescope in its front window. How I wish I could find a way to buy it for Dean. “What is it?”
“Now, I can’t tell you that, can I?” He kisses the top of my head. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
We have a great rest of the evening, and it’s not long before the kids are worn out and ready for bed. Dean tucks Henry under the covers and settles the blankets around his shoulders, laying the storybook he’s been reading on the nightstand. Henry’s just moved up to his “big boy bed,” apparently. After his crib, we kept his mattress on the floor for a while before adding the low bed frame that resembles a yellow and red race car. Toy cars line the shelving along one wall. These were Dean’s when he was a kid, and his parents saved them. He recently passed them on to Henry, once Henry was old enough to understand he wasn’t meant to eat them.
“Didn’t make it to the end of the book?” I ask Dean from the doorway.
He tiptoes out of the room, turning off the light. “We can finish tomorrow.”
Eleanor holds my hand in the hall. “Can I have a story, too?” She’s dressed in a cute pink flannel nightie with a dainty silk white bow at the neckline and buttons on the bodice. The nightie is long, falling past her ankles and nearly to her fluffy puppy-dog-face slippers. She still wears her pigtails, but they’re pulling apart in places after her busy day.
“You bet you can,” I tell her, “but first let’s brush your hair.”
We already brushed her teeth in the bathroom after finishing up her bubble bath. Dean gave Henry a quick bath first, taking pains not to linger since the boy’s eyelids were drooping already. Dean creeps toward the hallway, leaving Henry’s door partially ajar. “Should I build us a fire?” He views me longingly. “I can open some wine?”
“That sounds really good.” I consider my sterile condo with its gas fireplace and where I have only Elroy for company. I shake my head at the thought. A robotic dog. Then I see our real dog, Scout, curled up in the center of Eleanor’s bed. I place a hand on my hip and scold him. “Scout! What are you doing?”
He lazily lifts his head and blinks, having been roused out of his slumber.
“He’s sleeping, Mommy,” Eleanor informs me.
“I see that,” I tell the girl. “Only, Scout’s not supposed to sleep here. He’s got his own bed in Mommy and Daddy’s room.”
Eleanor covers her mouth and giggles. Scout hops off her bed and trots over before sitting down at her feet. He cocks his head and says, “Woof!”
Eleanor and I both shush him on account of Henry.
Eleanor holds a finger against her lips. “Don’t tell, Scout,” she whispers. “It’s a secret.”
I sagely scan the girl. “What kind of secret, Eleanor?”
She shrugs and says sweetly, “Sometimes, when you and Daddy are sleeping, Scout comes in here and sleeps with me.”
“On your bed?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you like that?”
“Oh yeah,” she says seriously. “Scout’s my best friend.”
I laugh and hug her, not sure of what else to do. If this is already a habit between them, it’s going to be hard to break. We keep Scout clean and bathed. He stays on flea prevention medication, too. I wrinkle up my nose and tell her, “I’ll have to talk to Daddy and be sure he thinks it’s all right. We’ll both have to agree.”
She nods like she expected this response and respects it. Evidently Dean and I present a united front before the kids. “Okay, Mommy.”
I lift her hair brush off her dresser. “Now, come here,” I say gently. “Let’s undo those pigtails and run a brush through your hair.” She stands facing the mirror as I brush out her long brown hair, her pretty, dark eyes gleaming back at me. She reminds me so much of Dean in miniature, it’s uncanny. My heart swells with pride that we made her, and that I had something to do with the outcome. She’s bright and as cute as a button. My little girl.
A lead weight settles in my stomach.
The child I’d lose by leaving here.
I’d also lose Henry. Baby heartthrob that he is. So precious.
What about Mom and Roger? They seem so good together here, but their fate’s uncertain in the other world. So is mine—and Dean’s. Tears prickle the backs of my eyes. Even though Dean and I are single in the other reality, I don’t know how I could ever explain to Dean what I’ve learned by being here.
Scout’s interest in the hair-brushing session wanes, and he goes off to find Dean in the living room. Meanwhile, I pull back Eleanor’s covers and help her scoot into bed in a sitting-up position. I note the selection of books on the short bookshelf beneath her window. “Which one shall it be tonight?” I ask her.
She points to the top shelf. “The one about the princess!” she says eagerly.
I trace my finger along the book spines. Princess. Princess.
“That one!” she says, and I stop. Pull out the book and remove it from the shelf.
It’s got a lovely, illustrated cover with a princess commanding a schooner, standing at the ship’s wheel like a formidable captain. She wears a tiara but is dressed like a pirate otherwise. “This one looks adventuresome,” I tell her.
Eleanor bubbles excitedly as I walk over, “She lives on a boat like Grandma’s going to do.”
I sigh, resigned to this outcome. “Your grandma’s adventuresome, too.”
Eleanor stares up at me with love in her eyes. “So are you, Mommy.”
She doesn’t know how wrong she is. I’m the person who always plays it safe and never takes chances. Until now.
“What makes you say that, Eleanor?”
Her grin lights up every dark corner of the room. “You said marrying Daddy was your greatest a’venture of all!”
“Did I?” A tear leaks from my eye, and I wipe it back. “Oh.”
Eleanor frowns when I sit down beside her on the bed, my former world drifting away like tiny snowflakes flitting off in the wind.
“Are you sad, Mommy?”
“No, no. I’m happy.” I hug her tightly and my heart weeps with joy. “So happy, Eleanor.” This is so much more than I could have imagined. It’s a brand new feeling, being adored by these kids, who are melting my heart so completely I can’t help adoring them, too.
She hugs me and her muffled voice says, “I love you, Mommy.”
I hold in my building tears. “I love you, too.”
When I arrive in the living room my eyes still sting, but I’ve pulled myself together. Dried my leaky tears. Dean looks over in concern from where he’s crouched by the fireplace. The lights are low, with only one lamp burning on the entryway table and another on an end table by the sofa. The rest of the room’s illuminated by the multicolored lights on the radiant Christmas tree. “Everything all right?” Scout sits beside him, patiently watching his every move.
I nod because everything’s so perfect. More perfect than I ever thought it could be. “Yeah.” I sniff and center myself. “Eleanor was just being really sweet.”
“She has her moments,” he jokes. He stares fondly down the hall toward Henry’s room. “They both do.”
“They’re great kids,” I tell him.
He stuffs bunched-up newspapers below the grate, where he’s laid a fire with logs and kindling. “I agree.” He winks and my heart flutters. “We’re lucky to have them.”
My breath hitches on the truth. “They’re lucky to have you.”
Dean strikes a match and holds it to the newspaper in the hearth. It ignites with a flare, flames raking over crackling twigs, catching their spindly limbs on fire.
“Hey, Paige? I really do want to know.” He stands and walks toward me. “Is something going on?” He gazes at me sweetly. “Because you can tell me, you know.”
“Dean.” I stare into his swoony dark eyes. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”
“Oh yeah?” He brings his arms around me and holds me close. “Then spill.”
My heart pounds in my throat when I say, “I do think that calendar’s magical. Just look at the snowman, the poinsettia, those skates.”
“Hmm. Could be. Those occurrences were rather mysterious.” He pulls me nearer and gazes into my eyes. “You want to know where the real magic is?” He gently strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Right here, between us,” he murmurs and kisses me so tenderly I go all melty inside. Yes, I believe that with my whole heart.
The fire behind him builds, purplish flames lapping against the logs. He’s laid the fire expertly and it fills the air with the light scent of cedar, issuing in a cozy warmth.
Dean takes my hand and leads me to the sofa. “It’s been a very full couple of days,” he says, “and you’re still adjusting to the news about your mom and Roger. Why don’t we sit and have a glass of wine?”
I see a bottle of cabernet sauvignon on the coffee table next to a corkscrew. He’s brought out two wineglasses, too. I sink down on a sofa cushion, not believing I’ve earned any of this. He opens the bottle and fills my glass.
When he hands me my glass, I ask, “Whatever did I do to deserve you?”
“Paige.” He raises his wineglass to mine. “I’m the lucky one.” His face is so handsome in the shadows. I trace the line of his dimple with my fingers. Excitement ripples through me at the feel of his skin and his late evening beard stubble.
We clink glasses and I say, “Maybe we’re both lucky?”
His lopsided grin bathes my soul in happiness. “Here’s to us, then.”
“Here’s to us!”
We clink glasses again, and he leans forward and kisses me. So silky soft, my heart pounds and my head grows light. I open my eyes and catch Scout slipping down the hall. Dean peers at the dog. “Looks like Scout’s calling it a day.”
“He might be sneaking into Eleanor’s room.”
“What?”
I nod. “I have it on good authority, he’s been sleeping on her bed.”
Dean chuckles and shakes his head. “What do you think?”
“He’s a tame, mature dog. Plus he loves those kids.” I lift a shoulder. “I don’t see any harm in it. You?”
He smiles affectionately. “Same.”
The fire burns brighter, its heat spreading toward us.
Dean takes our wineglasses and sets them on the coffee table. He holds both my hands in his. “Have I told you lately…” His voice goes raspy. “How much I love you.” His eyes shimmer in the firelight and my heart soars. While I can’t recall these past six years in this dimension, I’m certain of one thing. I do know Dean. I know this Dean like the back of my hand, or the other half of myself. And no, he’s not the type of guy to hide his feelings. He’s the sort who would have told me many times.
“I’m sure you have.”
“That’s good,” he says softly, “because that’s something I always want you to remember. One thing that will never change.”
“I don’t like change,” I tell him honestly, and the truth slays me. Because it’s change that’s brought me here.
“Then let’s not change anything, hmm?” He wraps his arm around me and says huskily, “Unless it’s for the better.”
Now I can’t fathom wanting to change anything at all. I have a husband who adores me and two wonderful kids. A sweet dog, and a passel of girlfriends I’m close to. I’ve also got Mom, who is cancer free, and for the first time in forever she’s truly happy in a relationship. Everyone here seems happy! Even my boss, Missy Peabody. And happiness is all I could ever want for anyone. Emotion blooms in my heart until it’s so overwhelming I find the words spilling out of my mouth. “Dean,” I murmur as the fire crackles low, and the Christmas tree shines brightly, “I love you, too.”
“That’s good to hear.” His lips brush over mine and I sigh in his embrace. Let his kisses sweep me away as he holds me closer. So close it’s just the two of us and our rapidly beating hearts, growing nearer and nearer, warmer, my skin igniting at his touch. He reaches over and switches off the light, gently easing me down on the sofa. And suddenly, that other reality feels very far away.
Chapter
Fifteen
I wake up hugely happy and—I peer under the covers.—naked. I’m not wearing a thing, not even my Monday thong. Oh! There it is on the floor beside the bed. The bedroom door pops open. Eleanor! I snatch the undergarment off the floor and tuck it down under the covers beside me, wriggling it on. Backward. Ugh. That’s no good. I scoot if off my ankles, and kick, kick, kick with my feet, turning it around. Dean’s awake now, too.
I peek beneath the sheets. Also naked. Oh wow, no wonder I’m happy. Okay, focus on the kids. I blink as Henry barrels into the room. “Merry Kissmas!” he cries, pouncing onto the bed. Oof. Dean pulls on his sweatpants under the covers. He sneakily hands me his T-shirt and I peer at him in our dark tent. Henry bounces above us. Elbows and knees. Sharp edges. “I’m hungry!”
A heavier bounce. “Mommy! Daddy! It’s snowing!” That’s Eleanor.
Dean tugs up the covers above us and I slip his T-shirt over my head. Manage to get it on. Wait. My arm is stuck. “What are you doing?” Eleanor asks, trying to pull back the sheets.
“Waking up!” Dean hollers back to her. He tries to help by grappling for my elbow, but he shoves it in the wrong direction.
“Ouch,” I whisper. “Dean.”
“Woof! Woof!” That’s Scout—trampling my legs. Dean helps me tug down the T-shirt. My face flames as we finally peel back the covers and I stare at the kids. Sit upright in bed. Straighten the covers. Dean does the same. “Morning, everyone!”
“Mommy! Yay!” Henry throws his arms around my neck, knocking me backward toward the headboard. A stash of pillows catches us.
Eleanor sits back on her knees, her pink nightie bunched up. “Do we have school today?”
“School?” Dean’s eyes grow wide as he stares at the clock. “Yikes! We’re late!”
