A Daughter for Christmas (6 page)

“Don't Will and Sam need you or something?”

“No, I just checked on them, and they're playing in Sam's room.”

Slouching against the kitchen table, her elbow on its top, Taylor settled her chin in her palm. “I can't work with you standing over me.”

Rachel thought of a Bible verse on patience and repeated it several times in her mind as she took the seat next to her daughter. “Is this better?”

“No. You don't have to watch everything I do. I'm not a baby.”

“Fine.” Rachel rose. “I've got something I wanted to give you. I'll go get it while you finish the problems.”

When she halted at the entrance into the kitchen, she looked back to see Taylor staring out the window. Rachel bit her lower lip to keep from saying something. Homeschooling was going to take a long adjustment for her daughter.

So far, in the first afternoon, Taylor had managed to avoid as much work as she could whine her way out of or come up with a reason not to do it. She got a drink—four times. Went to the restroom more than she ever had before in the span of three hours. Got caught texting several friends. And moaned about how hungry she was even after having a large ham and Swiss sandwich with a mound of chips only an hour before.

With a deep sigh, Rachel retrieved the journal she'd bought for Taylor, checked on her sons, now in the den, and returned to the kitchen to find her daughter still staring at the window, dusk quickly evolving into darkness. “Hon, we've been invited to Max's for pizza tonight. If you can't get your work done, I'll have to call him and tell him we can't come.”

“Pizza,” Taylor murmured her favorite food and pulled her attention from the window to focus on the sheet in front of her. She sat up straighter and hunched over the paper, pencil in hand.

Rachel hung back, not wanting to disturb Taylor as she worked first one problem then the next and finally the last equation.

Taylor slammed down the pencil. “Done.”

Rachel covered the area between them and placed the journal down in front of her daughter while Rachel took the math and checked the rest of the answers. “This is good. The only thing you need to do is refigure the last step in the first problem.” She put it down on the table and pointed to the one she was talking about.

“Just mark it wrong and give me the grade.”

“No, I'm not grading you. If you get something wrong, you'll fix it until it's right. We don't move ahead until you understand what we're working on.”

“Oh, please, you expect me to do everything right. I can't.”

“You will and can. Remember, you'll determine how fast we move.”

Taylor huffed and erased the numbers, then redid it. “There. Okay?”

“Great. I knew you could do it.”

“What's that?” Taylor pointed to the journal.

“I got you another journal. Before we start our lessons each day, I want you to write in this your thoughts about
anything that happened the day before. You can show it to me or not. That will be your choice.”

“If you don't grade it, what good is it?”

“I want you to write for the pure joy of writing.”

“There's nothing joyful about writing or reading.”

“I thought you liked to write. You've gone through five journals in two years.”

“I don't like anything having to do with school.”

“I hope I can change your mind.”
If my patience lasts that long.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “I don't have to now, do I?”

“No, you can start tomorrow morning.”

“When do we go to dinner?”

Checking her watch, Rachel started for the den and the noise of arguing. “In half an hour.”

Taylor passed her in the hall, hurrying toward the stairs. Rachel increased her pace as a crash reverberated down the corridor. She appeared in the den at the exact moment Will and Sam were playing tug-of-war with a book. Her gaze fell upon a chair on its side, and she inhaled a relieved breath.

“Boys, stop it.”

“I had this first.” Will yanked on the book and a couple of pages ripped off in his hand.

“I did.”

Rachel stepped between them, snatched the book before it was completely ruined, and wondered what she had gotten herself into. How was she going to keep Taylor focused on her schoolwork and be a referee for her two sons at the same time?

 

“This is the best pizza I've ever had.” Taylor polished off her fourth slice and collapsed back against her chair. “I'm stuffed.”

Will reached for the last piece in the center of Rachel's kitchen table. “I claim this.”

“No, I want it.” Sam managed to get his hand on the pizza a second after his brother and a tug-of-war began again.

“Stop right now.” Rachel schooled her voice into the calmest level possible under the circumstances of a war being played between the twins—a war that had spilled over from earlier in the den through the whole dinner with poor Max sitting and taking it all in quietly. Neither boy would let go of the piece. “Put it back on the plate.”

“But I claimed it first.” Will glared at Sam.

“I'm still hungry.” Sam narrowed his eyes to slits and sent daggers toward Will. “I'm not letting go until he does.”

While the two were staring each other down, Rachel rose slightly from her seat and snatched the slice from both of them. They turned their looks on her. “Obviously, it's time for bed. Go get ready, and I'll come up to tuck you in.”

“I'm not sleepy.” Sam glanced at Will. “This is all your fault.”

“No, it's yours.”

“Now, and I don't want to hear another word from either one of you.”

The twins stood, pouts descending. They spun around and raced for the door.

“Haven't you two forgotten your manners? What do you say to Dr. Connors for fixing the pizza?”

Near the kitchen entrance, each jockeying for being the first through the doorway, both boys came to an abrupt halt and slowly turned, slanting a look toward the other to make sure he did the same thing.

“Thanks,” Will and Sam said together, then whirled around and bumped shoulders while hurrying out of the room.

The pounding of their footsteps up the stairs echoed through the house. The slamming of their bedroom doors quickly followed. Then silence.

“Now you see why I asked you to come over here to eat. I had a feeling something like this would happen.” Rachel leaned back and relaxed for the first time, her stomach muscles releasing their tension. “I'm sorry you had to hear that. They've been at each other's throat all day. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.”

“It kind of reminds me of my brother and me when we fought.” Max sat at the head of the table where Lawrence had. The sight of Max there startled her at first, but as so much that had occurred in the past two years, it was something she got used to quickly. Lawrence wasn't coming back, and she had to move on. Make a new life.

“If no one's gonna eat that last piece, then I will.” Taylor grabbed the slice, part of it falling apart from the tug-of-war. That didn't stop her from taking a big bite of it.

“I thought you were stuffed,” Max said with a chuckle.

“I just needed to wait a few minutes. Can't let pizza go to waste.”

“I'm glad you liked it.” A pleased expression eased the tired lines on his face.

“One of my friends' dads cooks a lot, too. But my dad never did except to barbecue steaks every once and a while.”

“I like good food, and I got tired of going out to eat
to get it. But you should have seen my first attempts. Uneatable is a kind description.”

“My aunt Jordan and Granny are great cooks.”

Rachel straightened. “I think my daughter is saying I need more lessons.”

“Let's just say your sewing is better than your cooking.” Giggling, Taylor finished off the last bit of pizza.

“Okay, so I didn't inherit the cooking gene from Granny.” Rising, Rachel picked up her dishes. “Now that we're through—”

Taylor bolted to her feet. “I'm going to research some more on ADHD. Thanks for the pizza.”

Before Rachel could blink, her daughter was halfway across the kitchen.

“I'll help you clean up.” Max gathered up the plates near him.

“You don't have to. I'll do it later. You've done enough cooking dinner. And I agree with my kids. The pizzas were delicious.” Max had prepared three different kinds—a supreme, one that reminded her of a Greek dish, and a pepperoni, her boys' favorite—and she'd tasted each one.

“We can talk while we clean up.” Max set the plates in the sink. “How did it go today with Taylor?”

“Basically, we went over what she found concerning ADHD. We discussed it, and she feels better now that she understands it some. Other than that all we accomplished was half a page of math, and that subject is one of her better ones. I don't even want to think about tomorrow when we start in the reading program.”

“Any change won't be easy for Taylor. I have found kids with ADHD don't like change.” Max cleared the rest of the table while Rachel began filling the dishwasher.

“Actually, not many children do. For that matter, I
don't. I know this will be hard, especially at first, but I'm determined to help Taylor. Tomorrow I'll begin to set up our routine and try to stick to it as much as possible. I think Taylor needs that right now more than anything. The literature I've read stresses that.”

Max came to stand next to her and help her load the dishwasher. “Don't forget yourself in all this. What do you need?”

T
he second Max uttered that question he wanted to take it back. He had no business getting too involved in Rachel's personal life because in the end, that wasn't going to change the fact he wanted to be in his daughter's life.

“What do I want?” Rachel paused in handing him a plate and thought a moment. “I want my children to be happy and safe. I'm not really worried about Sam and Will. But I am about Taylor. Lawrence's death was hard on her. I know a little about what she's going through.”

“Your dad died when you were her age?”

“As a child, I might have said worse than that. He walked out and left my mom. Cut off all ties. She struggled to take care of us and to get over the emotional abandonment. I was nearly thirteen at the time and tried to help her as much as possible, but I didn't understand why he would leave and not let us know where he was. I still don't. How can a parent turn his back on his own child?” She held up her hand. “I know it happens all the time, but it doesn't make it right.” The past etched her voice in pain.

And touched him with memories of his own past with
Alicia. She'd taken his right to be a father away from him—had given up her own child because she didn't want to be bothered with raising her. This was a woman he'd loved, married. How was it possible he was so far off base with what Alicia was really like? Ever since he'd discovered the existence of Taylor he'd questioned his judgment. He'd made a terrible mistake believing in Alicia that caused him to lose years with his daughter. What if he did something equally terrible and lost Taylor for good?

“No, it doesn't make it right.” He closed the dishwasher. “You don't know where your father is?”

“No, and I don't want to know anymore. I gave up dreaming he would come back to Jordan and me long ago. That kind of abandonment leaves its mark on a child.”

“But Taylor's dad didn't purposefully abandon her.” He wouldn't have if he'd known about her.

“Oh, I know—” she averted her head “—but being left behind still hurts.” A raw ache resonated through Rachel's words.

Drawing him to her, he settled his hand on her shoulder, the muscles beneath his palm taut. He placed his finger under her chin and rotated her toward him. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She swallowed hard and dropped her eyelids to veil her expression. “Rejection is hard no matter who does it.”

She shuddered beneath his touch. “Who hurt you?”

“My ex-wife. She left me while I was overseas serving my country. I didn't even get a ‘Dear John' letter. I got a notice through her lawyer that she was divorcing me.”
Tell her. Get it over with. Ask to be in Taylor's life and get out of here.

Then Rachel reestablished visual contact with him, and a connection sprang up between them—had from
the very beginning. Two people who knew what it was like to be rejected by a loved one. He didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't want to hurt Rachel, and yet Taylor was his daughter.

She cupped his face. “I'm so sorry to hear that. It's bad enough being separated from your loved ones while serving. You certainly don't need to worry about something like that. Did you ever talk to her?”

“No, I lost touch with her until her younger sister called me a few months ago and told me she died. A freak accident.”

“Sometimes you just have to put your past behind you and let go of the heartache.”

Her fingers against his skin branded him, riveting him to her. The gentle look in her expression lured him even closer until there were only inches between them. Her lavender fragrance reminded him of a flower garden his mother used to have where he and his brother played cops and robbers among the bushes. The memory heightened his desire for a family. Taylor was his family. He couldn't walk away. What kind of father would he be then?

The direction his thoughts was going sobered him. He pulled away and put several feet between them. Taking deep breaths, he calmed the quick beating of his heart that her nearness produced. “Have you put your past behind you?” His look latched on to her wedding ring.

“I'm trying and mostly I have.” She closed her right hand over her left one.

Everything was happening too fast. He needed to step back and slow things down. He needed to think carefully through what he was going to do or rather when he was going to tell her about Taylor. Before the holidays? After them?

Indecision blanketed him in a cold sweat. He didn't
like feeling this way. “I'd better go. Tomorrow will be a long day for you and me.”

“Maybe we should compare notes tomorrow night and see who had the longest day?” Her light tone sounded forced as though she, too, was gathering her composure after that little exchange.

“Do you ever go for a run or a walk?”

“Exercise?” she asked, as though it was unheard-of.

“Yep, so you can eat tons of ice cream.”

“Not often. Usually the boys want to go, too, and then it doesn't really serve its purpose.”

“How about we all go tomorrow? Get Taylor, too.”

Rachel laughed. “Taylor? She wouldn't be caught dead going for a walk with her family.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Well, no, but my daughter tries to find excuses not to do stuff with us.”

“Ask. She may surprise you. Tell her we can end up at the ice cream store near the park. My treat. Since it gets dark early we'll go at four. Are you game?” There was a part of him listening to him persuade her to go with him that couldn't believe he was speaking. What about slowing down did he not understand? And yet, he felt as if time was running out for him. Taylor was already thirteen. She'd be a grown-up young lady soon.

“Sure. I'll have Sam and Will ride their bikes. They're begging me to take off the training wheels, but I don't know if they're ready yet. All I see is one accident after another.”

“Sounds good to me—the walk, not the accidents. I'll see you out front at four.” A few more paces back but still facing Rachel, he hesitated. He'd enjoyed himself and didn't want to leave yet.

“Mom, Will and Sam are having a pillow fight,” Taylor
shouted from the second floor, wrenching Rachel's gaze from his.

“I think this is round three. I need to go.” Rachel rushed toward the hallway. On the staircase, she paused and added, “See you tomorrow. Are you sure you're ready for my sons going with us?”

Was he? Doubt nibbled at his mind. “Sure.” Especially if his daughter was there. That was the reason for all this. “Bye.”

A crash jerked Rachel around, and she continued her trek up to the second floor while Max opened the front door and left. Descending the steps to the sidewalk, he rotated around and glanced up at the bedroom above the porch. Rachel came over and started to close the drapes, caught him looking and waved.

He returned it, a smile appearing and chasing away the frown that had been on her face. Her warm expression twisted his gut, reminding him of the reason he was in Tallgrass. He really didn't know how this could turn out good. Someone was going to lose—Taylor. Rachel. Himself. Would he and Rachel end up like the twins in a tug-of-war over Taylor? The picture didn't set well and churned his stomach even more.

The more he was around Taylor the more he realized he needed his daughter to know him before he broke the news who he was. That was the only way it would work. Tomorrow afternoon would give him a chance to move forward on his plan.

 

Max sat at the table with Rachel late the next day at Frozen Delights while her two sons were climbing on the play equipment in the enclosed playground. He'd been disappointed to find that Taylor had gone to spend the night at a friend's house. He'd been looking forward to
getting to know his daughter better. In the back of his mind he felt a clock ticking down toward disaster.

“How was homeschooling today?” Max took a lick of his German chocolate cake ice cream.

Rachel swung her gaze from her twins to Max. “Difficult. I couldn't get her to focus longer than ten or fifteen minutes. I'm looking for some good instructional computer games to help keep her attention. By the afternoon, I decided to work fifteen minutes then take a short break. The afternoon went better than the morning.”

“Take what she is interested in the most and use that to help teach her.” He remembered it had helped him when he was learning to read.

Rachel ate a spoonful of her peppermint ice cream. “She loves playing games, especially video ones, so I'm going to use that. I've looked online and ordered some, but I'm going to a teacher's supply store in Tulsa when I go for the quilting competition the first of December. I'm going to make it a family outing.”

“I've heard good things about Tulsa.” He bit into the cone, nearing the last of his treat.

“Yeah, it's a pretty city. The kids enjoy going. You're welcome to come, too. In the afternoon my quilt will be displayed at the museum. There's a small reception for the quilters and family at five.”

“You'll have to show me one of your quilts.”

“I'm finishing up the one going to the museum. I'll show you.” A blush colored her face a pleasing tint.

“Having your work displayed in a museum sounds like quite an honor to me.”

Her cheeks reddened even more. “Yes, I was surprised when I was included. The quilts are from different places and people in a five-state region.” She took another bite of ice cream.

He watched her slide the spoon between her lips. He couldn't pull his attention from her mouth, perfectly formed. Suddenly, he put a halt to his thoughts. The situation was complicated enough without thinking about how it would feel to kiss her. “What time are you leaving?” He fixed his gaze on hers.

“I was going in the afternoon, but if the weather is nice, we could go earlier and go to the Tulsa Zoo in the morning. They decorate for Christmas, and I think the kids would enjoy it. I could use it with Taylor. One of her favorite animals is an elephant. The Tulsa Zoo has an elephant demonstration she's wanted to go to. She's talked about joining the Friends of Tulsa Zoo Elephants. This might be a good time to do it.”

“I'll see if I can rearrange my appointments to take the day off. Kevin will be back in the office so it shouldn't be a problem.”

“Great. While I'm on a roll, Granny wanted me to ask you to her wedding and reception next Saturday.”

“She did?”

“You made quite an impression on my grandmother last weekend. She told me it would give you another chance at badgering her about the fudge recipe.”

Max laughed. “I'll wear her down. You just wait and see.”

“Granny loves a good challenge.”

“Like her granddaughter?”

A smile quirked the corners of Rachel's mouth—one he needed to quit staring out. “Yes, it's in the genes. Now if I could just get Taylor to look at learning as a challenge.”

“Learning is a challenge. For some more than others. It wasn't easy for me, but one day I decided if I wanted
to be a doctor I had to take control and learn in spite of my problems.”

“You had problems?”

“A few with reading as a child. But as you can see, I love to read now, and I didn't let it stop me.”

“It'd be great if you could share that with Taylor some time. Would you?”

“If you think it would help.” The idea appealed to him. He hadn't told many people about his struggles to learn to read, but if it would help his daughter, he would.

“If she hears how you overcame your struggles and went on to be a doctor, that should help her. There was a time she wanted to be a doctor just like her daddy. The past few years she hasn't said anything about that. All she tells me is she's undecided. I think she's giving up on that dream because she's been having trouble with science. That used to be all she talked about.”

“Then I'll find a time to talk to her.” When Rachel had talked about Taylor's dad, his chest had constricted until now he had to force deep breaths into his lungs.

“Did you say something about teaching for Kevin next week?”

“Yeah.”

“You could after the class. I could come a little late and give you some time.”

“How about I bring her home? The class is at the end of the day, and I'll talk to her on the ride home. Okay?”

“Perfect.” She scanned the playground for her two sons. “This has been nice even if I had to walk a mile to get some ice cream.”

“And now we have to walk back. Are you ready?” Beyond the glass enclosure Max noticed the sun sinking
behind the trees, dusk settling over the landscape. “Good thing there are sidewalks all the way. We might not make it back before dark.”

“That won't bother Will or Sam. They'll think it's an adventure, riding their bikes after dark.”

“If you want, I'll help you with teaching them to ride without their training wheels. I was home on leave when my brother taught his son. I think I've got the hang of how to do it.”

“Yeah, there's a lot of running along beside the bike until they get their balance. Or at least that's what Lawrence did for Taylor.”

Max rose, turning away from Rachel so she wouldn't see anything written on his face. But that was another experience he'd missed as a father. He hadn't been there when she'd learned to walk, talk. Her first day of school. Another man got to do what he should have done.

Rachel says to put the pain of the past behind me. But how? Alicia robbed me of so much.

 

At her wedding reception on Saturday, Granny held up her hand, palm outward. “You aren't gonna get the fudge recipe.”

“Are you sure there isn't something I could do for you to change your mind?” Max's green eyes gleamed with mischief.

“There's only one way—being a family member.” Dressed in a cream-colored silk suit, Rachel's grandmother looked pointedly from Max to Rachel standing next to him. Granny grinned and winked.