Bayview Heights Trilogy (60 page)

Seth sat through the rest of the service in a
daze. He managed to make his way to the narthex without too much
trouble, though he felt as if he was bleeding inside. He avoided
Lacey and Josh, snatched his coat from the rack and was heading for
the door when he felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder.

He turned to find Philip Cartwright behind
him.

o0o

“GET THE DOOR, Lacey, will you?” Philip
called from the den. “Before the bell wakes up Josh.”

Lacey rose from her seat by the living-room
fire, dreading a visit from whoever was here at nine o’clock on
Christmas Eve. She wasn’t up to company; the contact with Seth at
the church had drained what little strength she had. All she wanted
to do was look forward to tomorrow morning, when Mrs. Cornwall
would join them to see Josh receive his presents.

Dragging open the door, the smile she’d
pasted on her face vanished. Her jaw dropped. “Oh my God. What are
you doing here?”

“I don’t exactly know.” Seth stood before
her, looking so sexy in his tweed coat and holiday scarf that her
knees buckled with longing. She grasped the door handle to steady
herself. They stood there, devouring the sight of each other, while
snow dusted his shoulders and a light wind whipped around Lacey’s
slippered feet.

“I don’t understand,” she told him.

“I’ll explain it to you both,” Philip said
from behind them. “Now get that man inside, Lacey, before you catch
cold.”

Seth stepped into the foyer, a puzzled
expression on his face. Lacey closed the door, numb with
surprise.

“Come in here,” they heard Philip order as he
headed for the living room.

Silently Seth followed Lacey.

“Sit down.” Philip went to stand by the
hearth, looking grim.

Seth and Lacey exchanged glances then started
for chairs opposite from each other.

“On the couch, together.”

Oh, God
, Lacey thought.
One more
chance to be close to him
.

They sat, their thighs brushing. Both stared
up at Philip. It was then that Lacey realized the tree lights
glowed and flickered and soft Christmas carols crooned from the
stereo. Both for the first time this season.

Philip dug his hands into his pants pockets
and faced them squarely. He looked younger tonight, less weary,
almost untroubled. Lacey was glad.

“I’ve been wrong,” he said without preamble.
“Very wrong. I should never have tried to force you to choose
between him and me, honey. I’ve come to realize over the last few
days that I’ve acted selfishly. I hope—” his voice shook, but he
plowed ahead “—that someday you’ll be able to forgive me.”

Lacey’s heart started beating faster. She
chanced a glimpse at Seth and saw him swallow hard, his face
flush.

Then Philip turned to Seth. “And you, too.
I’ve been wrong to be so obsessed with Kevin. I’ve been wrong to
blame you for his problems. In my head, I know people are
responsible for their own actions. It just might take a while for
my heart to catch up.” Her grandfather drew in a heavy breath and
studied them both. “Meanwhile, you two belong together. I won’t
interfere. I won’t make any more trouble.” He looked at Seth again.
“And I’ll try to build some sort of relationship with you, Seth. If
you’re willing.”

Briefly Lacey closed her eyes, realizing
Philip had used Seth’s given name for the first time. The lump in
her throat only increased when Seth stood.

“I’m willing, Philip.”

Then, Seth crossed the room halfway and
extended his hand.

Her grandfather met him in the middle and
shook that hand. Holding back the tears, she stood, too. Philip
watched her, his gaze steady. Smiling, Lacey flew across the room
into his arms. “I love you, Grandpa.

“I love you, too, girl. Be happy.”

Before she could respond, a cry sounded from
upstairs. Philip squeezed her once, then said, “I’ll go tend to the
boy. I feel like rocking him for a while.”

With one last nod to Seth, Philip left the
room.

Seth simply stared at Lacey, holding his
breath, fearful that if he moved, or said anything, he’d awaken
from this dream and none of what happened would be real.

Almost in slow motion, she moved toward him,
the soft velour caressing her curves, her hair tumbling onto her
shoulders. When she reached him and twined her arms around his
neck, he let out his breath and crushed her to him. He wanted to
weep with joy, shout out loud and dance in the streets. As “White
Christmas” filled the silence around them, she said, “This is a
miracle, Seth.”

Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled
deeply and tightened his grip. “It is.”

“It’s real, right?”

He slid his hands to her hips and pulled her
closer. “Very real.”

“I don’t understand everything that’s
happened.”

“I don’t, either. But I’m willing to accept
it on faith. You’re in my arms on Christmas Eve. That’s all that
matters.”

She drew back and looked up at him, her eyes
sparkling brighter than the lights on the tree. “Merry Christmas,
love.”

“Mmm, it will be that,” Seth said, lowering
his head. “And so will our next fifty together.”

“JOSH, go get your mother. Quick. She’s on
the phone in the den.” Philip patted his five-year-old adopted
great-grandson’s bottom to send him on his way, then turned to the
baby on his right, whose arm he held securely so the boy wouldn’t
fall. He spared a quick glance to the other side of the living
room. “Celia, get the camcorder ready.”

“It’s ready, dear.”

Over the musical sound of “Mo—om” as Josh ran
through the house, Philip said, “You two just sit there and
watch.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Philip saw Seth
give Joey an indulgent smile.

“Grandpa,” Joey said. “He’s only nine months
old. He’s too little to walk.”

Ignoring the soft swell of emotion he
experienced every time Joey called him grandpa, Philip said, “He’s
not too little. Kevin walked at nine months. This guy’s ready.” He
caught Seth’s gaze. “Isn’t he, Dad?”

“I believe you.” Seth’s smile was genuine.
“Miracles
do
happen on Christmas Eve.”

Philip knew that Seth was remembering two
years ago when he’d finally come to his senses the night before
Christmas. The road had been rocky along the way for all of them,
and there’d been some hard times, especially those first few
months, but they’d made it. His voice gruff, he said, “Yes, they
do.”

“What’s going on?” Lacey entered the room,
Josh tugging her by the hand.

Joey said, “Grandpa says little Philip’s
gonna walk.”

Lacey laughed and locked eyes with her
husband. She rested her hands on her stomach and said, “Of course,
it’s Christmas Eve.”

Philip backed up about three feet, leaving
the boy anchored to the couch. He squatted and stretched out his
arms.

The child turned, then teetered, his brown
eyes glowing, his chubby cheeks rosy with delight. “Pa...Pa...Pa,”
he said as he took his first steps.

Tears clouded Philip’s eyes. “Come on, boy.
You can do it. Come to Papa.”

One more...two more...three more steps, and
the baby gripped his large hands.

Philip scooped up his great-grandson. “Good
boy, Philip. Good boy.”

Lacey watched the scene unfold, more content
than she ever thought she’d be. The family cheered and talked at
once about little Philip’s accomplishment, and her motherly heart
rejoiced in her son’s triumph. A lot of things had brought this
family together, and eased their grief over Kevin. But this little
bundle of joy, born on her grandfather’s seventy-eighth birthday,
was the solidifier.

A loud blast of a horn sounded outside. “It’s
the fire trucks,” Philip said, standing up, still clasping his
namesake to him. “Come on, the baby’s never seen this.” The spring
in Philip’s step testifying to his good health, he gave orders.
“I’ll get Philip into his snowsuit. Joe, you suit up Josh. Celia,
don’t forget the camera.”

Celia laughed. Lacey was so grateful to have
Celia in their lives. In a move that surprised them all, Celia
included, Philip had proposed to her the summer after the Christmas
that had changed their lives. Her influence, along with some
counseling Philip had gotten, had gone a long way to unite their
family.

So had Seth’s insistence last Christmas that
Philip head up a senior citizens’ group to work with the
high-school students on the Good Deeds Project. Now Philip
practically ran the whole project, leaving Seth free to oversee the
rest of Bayview Heights High School as its principal.

Philip, Celia, Joey and the two little boys
headed to the foyer. Loud honks sounded from outside their house.
Philip’s friends on the Bayview Heights Volunteer Fire Department
knew about his attachment to his great-grandchildren and were
waiting for him, as prearranged, with their seasonal tribute—a
decorated fire truck making the rounds in the neighborhood.

“You coming?” Joey appeared in the doorway a
few minutes later, coat on, holding a bundled-up Josh’s hand.

Seth raised an eyebrow at Lacey.

She shook her head. “Not right now. I want a
minute alone with your dad.”

Joey rolled his eyes and said to Josh in a
stage whisper, “Come on, buddy. They probably want to neck under
Grandpa’s mistletoe. Geez,” he added with faked disgust. “That’s
all they ever do.”

Lacey’s eyes narrowed on Joey playfully.
“Watch what you say, cub reporter, or I’ll fire you from the
paper.”

“Grandpa would never allow that,” Joey said
haughtily. He zipped up his jacket, secured Josh’s hat and
disappeared.

Seth laughed, still amazed at the bizarre
turns their lives had taken. Who would have thought two years ago
that Joey would have gotten close to Philip Cartwright, helping to
ease the tension between Seth and the older man.

Philip spent hours teaching Joey the ropes of
newspaper reporting. So much so that, at the end of his sophomore
year, Joey had transferred to Columbia School of Journalism to be
near his family and do more work at the
Herald
. He now
roomed in New York City with Johnny Battaglia but came home often.
Philip frequently boasted that Joey—his protégé—was someday going
to win the Pulitzer he himself had never gotten.

“Seth? Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat. “Couldn’t be
better.”

“Don’t bet on it,” she said mysteriously.
Going to the stereo, she put on Handel’s Messiah, her favorite
Christmas music, then came to cuddle next to him. They sat in
silence, listening to the strains of the classical piece, staring
at the tree filled with lopsided ornaments and clumped tinsel that
Joey and Josh had put on when they’d helped their grandpa decorate
it last weekend.

“Sometimes,” he whispered into her hair, “it
all seems too good to be true.”

He felt her smile against his chest. “That’s
what Cassie just said on the phone.”

“Are they coming for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yes, Alexandra’s cold is better.”

“Oh no. Warn Josh. The little terror won’t
leave him alone.” Mitch and Cassie’s two-year-old daughter had
turned out to be a handful, just like her mother.

Lacey laughed aloud. She did that often. As
he hugged her, they heard Joey’s voice from the foyer. “Dad, Lace,
we’re going on the truck with the firefighters. You guys want to
come?”

“No thanks,” Seth called out.

“It figures,” Joey retorted, then slammed the
door.

“I’ve got other plans,” Seth whispered,
pulling his wife onto his lap and unbuttoning her sweater. He
nuzzled his face in her chest. “Mmm, this feels good.”

As he said it, something niggled inside of
him. Her breasts did feel good, but they also felt...

She slipped off his lap and crossed to the
tree before he could finish the thought. When she returned, she
handed him a small package and did up her shirt.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyeing her
suspiciously.

“A private Christmas present.”

Stretching up, he gave her a quick but
thorough kiss, then ripped open the package.

He held up the tiniest superhero pajamas he’d
ever seen. “A little small for me, aren’t they?”

She glanced back down at the wrapping. He
tracked the look. Inside was another pair of pajamas, identical to
the first.

“Lace? What’s this all about?”

She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “Guess.”

He reached over and palmed her breast.
“You’re pregnant. We’re going to have another baby.”

“And another.”

“Another? As in
two
?”

“Yep. Two boys.”

“Two boys? Two
more
boys?”

Lacey giggled girlishly. “Uh-huh. Looks like
I’m destined to spend my life with all men.” Her eyes glowed. “I
had amniocentesis, just like the last time, because of my age. I
waited until I got the results to tell you. It killed me to keep
this to myself, but I wanted to surprise you on Christmas Eve.”

Seth hauled her into his arms, the small sets
of pj’s scrunched between them. “Two more sons!”

He held her tightly, almost overcome with his
good fortune. After a moment, she drew back and framed his face
with her hands. “Only fitting for a superhero. Are you happy?”

He grasped the back of her neck and pulled
her to him. Just before his lips met hers, he whispered, “Happier
than I ever thought I could be, Ace.”

Around them, in the warmth of the fire and
the good cheer of Christmas, the Boston Pops sang loud and clear,
“Hallelujah!”

-o0o-

Writing Christmas stories has been one of the
highlights of my career. That this book is a sequel to my earlier
novel,
Cop of the Year,
with several of the characters
from that book appearing in it, was an added bonus. And it was
truly enjoyable to tell you, once again, about life in a typical
high school in the nineties.