A Hickory Ridge Christmas (9 page)

“Are they sad that there's no snow?”

A smile pulled at his lips. “Maybe some are, but many like the warm weather, too.”

Her attention span filled with all the geography she could handle for one day, Rebecca turned back to her toys and immediately began undressing her doll.

“Didn't you say something about a story?” Hannah reminded Todd.

Rebecca looked up from the floor. “Yeah, Daddy, will you read us a story? Please.”

“I can do that.” He reached one last time into his shopping bag and produced his worn, brown-leather Bible. Opening it to the passage he'd already marked, Todd made room for Rebecca to squeeze in next to him in the recliner. “I thought this would be a perfect occasion to read from the Book of Luke. It's about Joseph and Mary's trip to Bethlehem.

“‘While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.'”

“Mommy said a manger was a eating trough for animals. Why did they put Baby Jesus there?”

“Joseph and Mary were away from home and didn't have a bed for Baby Jesus. At least the hay in the manger would keep our Lord warm. There he was, the Son of God, sleeping beside the farm animals.”

Todd hoped Hannah would pipe in with her
opinion on the subject, but he only caught her staring at him strangely. “What? What is it?”

Instead of answering immediately, Hannah continued to stare at him, looking perplexed.

“Is something wrong, Hannah?”

She shook her head. “No, not wrong.”

“Then what is it?”

“I thought I knew you so well,” she said with a shrug. “I never really knew you at all, did I?”

At first her words made no sense to him, and then realization dawned. Though years ago Hannah had heard him speak of so many things, he'd never spoken so openly of his faith. Or had a whole lot of faith to speak of.

“You knew me. You still do.” Though he itched to touch her hand, Todd reached out to her with his smile alone. “I've changed some. But some changes are for the better.”

“A
re you sure you don't want another slice of pumpkin pie, Todd?”

Olivia Wells already had the pie plate in one hand, the server poised in the other. Sitting across from Hannah at the Woods family's formal dining room table, Todd appeared almost the sage color of his sweater. He'd already eaten large servings of Olivia's apple pie, cherries jubilee and Black Forest cake, even after consuming his share of the massive Christmas dinner at the Westins'.

“Come on, Todd. One more couldn't hurt,” Reverend Bob prodded, holding back a smile.

“Except that it might make me explode right here on Mrs. Wells's heirloom tablecloth.”

Hannah shook her head. “Ew, that wouldn't be pretty.”

“Now, Todd, didn't I tell you to call me Olivia?”

“Sorry. But no, thank you, Mrs.— I mean,
Olivia. Your desserts are amazing, but I couldn't eat another bite.”

Reverend Bob pushed back from the table and patted his full belly. “I believe I've had enough, as well, though the meal was wonderful.” He flashed a grateful look to Olivia before turning back to Todd. “Did you get the chance to talk to your parents today?”

“I called them this morning, which was already tonight, their time. Mom said the day was sunny and eighty-five degrees.”

“Did you tell her you'd build a snowman for her?” Hannah asked.

He nodded. “She told me she'd make a sand castle at the beach for me.”

“When do you think they'll return stateside?” Bob sat back with his hand pressed to his stomach.

“Dad already took an extension, so he should be returning soon. They've been talking about wanting to come back a lot lately.” He didn't have to mention the current development that probably had inspired their interest in moving back soon.

“It's too bad they couldn't come just for the holiday,” Bob continued. “We would have loved having them here, and I know they would have enjoyed Olivia's cooking.”

Again, Bob smiled at his guest, and Olivia beamed. If this woman could make her father that happy, Hannah decided she could at least try to make an effort.

“Uh, Olivia, I just wanted to tell you that you
really outdid yourself with Christmas dinner. Thanks so much for planning this.”

She meant it, too, even though initially she'd felt strange seeing her mother's good china paired with Olivia's lace tablecloth and linen napkins. The turkey had been golden and juicy, the side dishes, scrumptious. Olivia's ham with honey-apricot glaze even had finicky Rebecca returning for seconds.

Although Hannah had been uncomfortable with the idea of sharing Christmas with her father's lady friend, the celebration had been lovely. It was another great addition to the day that began with the private gift exchange at her apartment and continued through Reverend Bob's inspiring holiday sermon at church.

Olivia stood up from the table and started stacking dishes. “It's unfortunate that Rebecca fell asleep before dessert. Should we wake her?”

“No, that's all right,” Todd said, shaking his head. “She has to be exhausted by now.” As he stood, he raised a hand to stop Olivia's movement. “Here, let us get those. You have to be exhausted, too.”

Hannah stood next to him. “Yes, why don't you and Dad go in the living room and relax. We'll finish up in here.” Strange, the thought of being in a room alone with Todd didn't make her feel uneasy the way it would have a few weeks before.

“Sounds good,” he said. “Just let me go check on Rebecca, and I'll be in to help.”

Her heart warmed as she watched his retreating
form. He was such an amazing father. How could she ever have questioned whether he would be? She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he climbed the stairs and then stopped in the doorway of her childhood bedroom. Soon she heard footsteps on the stairs again.

“Boy, she's dead to the world,” he said as he reentered the kitchen through the swinging door.

“I wonder why. It wasn't as if she woke up—and woke me up—at five-thirty or anything.”

Todd stepped next to her until they were standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder at the sink. Hannah rinsed the dishes and passed them to Todd to put in the dishwasher.

“Just five-thirty? I thought you said she got you up really early.”

“It's early enough.”

“So you still get grouchy when you miss your beauty sleep.”

Hannah turned to give him her best evil eye, but Todd's silly grin made it impossible for her to hold the glower. “I guess some things never change.”

“Some things do. I was glad to see Reverend Bob dating again. How long have he and Olivia been together?”

Hannah shrugged. “I don't know. Several months.”

“You don't like her, do you?”

“I like her just fine.”

His expression told her he didn't believe her. “But you don't think she's right for your dad.”

Again, Hannah shrugged. “I don't know what I think.”

“Would you think
any
woman was right for your dad?”

“Probably not.”

“But you want him to be happy, don't you?”

Out of her side vision, she caught him watching her, waiting, expecting her to tell him what he already knew to be true. Reluctantly, she nodded. Of course, she wanted her father to be happy again. Maybe he would even be blessed to find someone with whom to share his life. She could still remember her father's devastation after her mother died. Todd was there. He remembered, too.

Todd poured the automatic detergent into the dishwasher and closed the door. “Olivia seems to make him happy.”

“I know. I keep telling myself that. She's not all that bad really, even if I don't feel comfortable around her. She can't help it she's not—”

“Not your mother?”

“No, silly. Not Mary Nelsen.”

“Who? Your babysitter?”

“Mary's great, and I think she's been in love with Dad for years. He doesn't have a clue. Mary loves Rebecca, too.” She paused, the memory of her child-care provider with her daughter bringing a smile to her lips. “She's the closest thing to a grandmother Rebecca's ever had.”

“She has another grandma…and another grandpa,” Todd said in a quiet voice.

“Sorry. I didn't mean—”

He waved away her apology. “Don't worry about it. My parents are dying to meet her.” He shot her an embarrassed look. “Well, they're excited now that they've gotten over the shock of learning about her. They hope to visit in February.”

“I'm sure Rebecca will love meeting them.” For now, Hannah was just relieved that they'd changed the subject.

“You know you can't choose for your father, right?” Todd said, dragging them back to the old subject.

“I know.”

A knock at the kitchen door ended the conversation. Reverend Bob stuck his head inside. “Oh, you are finished. We wondered what was taking you two so long.”

Hannah shifted, worried her father had overheard, though she doubted he would have been smiling like that if he had. Grabbing the dishrag, she started wiping down the counter. “We were just finishing up.”

Bob continued to stand holding the door open. He was wearing his long overcoat to cover his slacks and sports jacket.

“Olivia and I thought we'd take a stroll to work off our dinner. We would invite you two to join us, but we didn't expect that you'd want to wake Rebecca.”

He probably wanted to be alone with his lady friend, too, but Hannah refrained from mentioning it.

“No, that's fine. We'll stay here,” Todd told him.

“Why don't you two start a fire? Olivia and I
will probably want to warm ourselves by it when we get back.”

“Sure, we can do that.”

With a wave, Bob backed out of the door.

Todd wiped his hands on a towel and crossed to the kitchen door. “I can't believe they would go out into that weather on purpose when they could stay inside and keep warm.”

“Don't worry. You'll get used to the Michigan climate again. You did last time.” She followed him down the hall to the family room where five stockings dangled from the mantel—three embroidered ones for Bob, Hannah and Rebecca and two red felt socks, purchased just for this occasion.

He turned back to her. “The last time we were only moving here from Tennessee. This move has been much harder coming from a tropical climate.”

“Maybe it's an age thing. You are a whole lot older this time.”

“Speak for yourself, sweetheart. Isn't it great that we're the same age?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Well, anyway, we still need to build that fire. You know how to do it, right?”

“I was hoping you knew.”

“Never a Boy Scout, eh? Well, allow me to demonstrate for you.” Hannah crouched in front of the fireplace, opened the glass doors and twisted a black control just beneath the pile of logs. Golden flames leaped out and licked over the faux wood.

Todd broke out in a round of applause. “Okay, you got me. I didn't remember you having a gas fireplace.”

“Dad had it put in a few years ago.” She stood and warmed her hands near the fire before partially closing the doors.

Staring into the flame for several seconds, Todd approached the mantel and smoothed his index finger over the tiny Baby Jesus in the crystal crèche arranged on top.

“That belonged to my mother.” Hannah stretched up to the mantel and ran her fingers over the sloping shape of one of the crystal Christmas trees that marked both ends of the display.

“I remember it. There are several things still in this house that remind me of her. She's been gone for seven years, and her fingerprints are still everywhere here.”

Hannah's heart squeezed. It was just like Todd, the Todd she remembered, to reassure her that her mother's memory would be preserved. How had he known just how much she'd needed to hear that today when another woman's touches filled the kitchen and dining room?

“I wish you could have known her better.”

“Yeah, me, too. She died about six months after we moved in.”

“By the time you met her, the uterine cancer had already taken so much of her spirit.” The flames drew Hannah's attention as she settled on the sofa and drew her stocking-clad feet up under her dress.
“Sometimes it seems like so long ago that she died, and other times it feels like just yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

His words drew her out of her haze. When she looked up at him, Todd's face was hidden in shadow.

“You know, I probably never would have survived those first few months, the first few years even, without you. So if I didn't remember to thank you then, I want to do it now. Thank you.”

“You didn't need to thank me, then or now. I wanted to help if I could. You just didn't realize how strong you were. You would have found your way eventually on your own.”

“Fortunately, we never had to know that for sure.”

Todd watched Hannah closely as he tried to absorb what she'd just said. Her comment was as strange and unexpected as so many of the things she'd done lately, from including him in her private Christmas celebration to spending hours making that incredible photo album for him. What message was she trying to give to him?

“Have you ever wondered ‘what if'?” The second the words were out of his mouth, Todd regretted speaking them. Why couldn't he just enjoy the moment? This was the first time since he'd moved back that Hannah had allowed him to get this close, and he had to sabotage it.

Todd rested his elbow against the mantel and waited. Instead of striking back as he expected she might, Hannah simply stared at him from across the room.

He rushed to backtrack. “I don't mean what if we hadn't made— Or if you didn't get—” Finally, he stopped himself, staring at the floor. “I don't know what I mean.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His head jerked up, and he searched her face for whatever she wasn't saying.

Her eyes were shiny, and her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. When Todd was convinced she wouldn't say more, she cleared her throat and began.

“I've wondered what if. About a lot of things.”

“But not about having Rebecca.” He didn't even need to pose it as a question. He knew what her answer would be.

She used the back of her hand to swipe at her eyes. “No. Never Rebecca. I've never even questioned my decision to keep her, though a lot of people thought I should have considered adoption.”

Something cold gripped his insides. He'd always believed adoption to be a great thing—still did. Many strong families were built by the selflessness of birth mothers' difficult decisions.

But if Hannah had made that choice, he might never have known that their child existed. He wouldn't even have known to mourn the empty place in his life that would have been there without Rebecca.

The thought weighed so heavily on his mind that he crossed to the sofa where Hannah sat and slumped onto the opposite end.

Hannah turned so she faced him and leaned her back against the sofa's armrest. “I sometimes
wonder what our lives would have been like if I'd told you as soon as I knew I was pregnant.”

He'd wondered the same thing so many times himself and had blamed her for guaranteeing that neither of them would ever know. But now he couldn't work up the energy to continue holding a grudge.

“If only I'd told my father the whole story,” Hannah continued, staring at her hands. “Dad would have convinced me to tell you.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “You had the right to know.”

“It's all in the past now.” He leaned back and popped his feet on the box-shaped footstool next to the couch. “Anyway, I can't promise I would have come off as a hero back then. We both know I didn't make the best decisions at seventeen.”