A Family for Christmas (5 page)

T
rent stared up at Maggie, wishing a hole would open up in the earth and swallow him. Then her lips twitched, and his embarrassment turned into annoyance. He glared at her. Rather than take the hint that he didn't like her reaction, she started to laugh.

At him!

Her laughter sent his blood pressure soaring. How could she be so insensitive? How could she laugh at him in front of his nieces and nephew? Hadn't he suffered enough humiliation at her hands?

He shot to his feet and scowled down at her. It was easy for her to see only the humor in Rachel's innocent remark—after all, he'd been the one hurt. She'd left
him!

He longed to shout,
You didn't have friends and co-workers treat you like you were made of spun glass the way they did me. I doubt your secretary
brought you casseroles because she pitied you your lonely life.

Maggie's voice penetrated the angry fog of his thoughts as she sent Rachel and Daniel back to the car for something. “No,” she said, all laughter gone, her deep brown eyes as grave and sad as her tone. “I didn't have any friends left. They all reached out to you and turned their backs on me. Every one of them but Sarah and Michael.”

It was only hearing her reply that made Trent realize he'd spoken his last thoughts aloud. Feeling his cheeks heat, and not wanting to think another second about how much more he'd exposed his inner feelings, he muttered, “I'll get washed up and bring in the luggage.”

Ten minutes later Trent hoisted the last suitcase out of the back of the van. He turned toward a roaring sound coming down the drive and sidestepped just in time as Daniel careened around the back bumper on his Big Wheel, sliding into the spot Trent had occupied until a split second before. “Whoa, there, partner. Where's the fire?” Trent asked with a chuckle.

Daniel's eyes widened like saucers, and he did a comical double take. “How'd you know?”

“Know what?”

“Uncle Trent!” Rachel shouted from the front porch. “Help! Aunt Maggie started a fire!”

Trent didn't know he had the energy left to move as fast as he did. He dropped the suitcases, vaulting the porch railing a couple of seconds later. He followed Rachel and the trail of smoke to find Maggie in the kitchen ineffectively beating at flames with a
towel. They surrounded and shot from a pot on the stove, leaping dangerously. Luckily he knew exactly where to find the fire extinguisher, and he had the flames out in a heartbeat.

Trent turned to Maggie to ask what had happened, but she was so pale and shaken that the question died on his lips. “Here. Sit down before you fall down,” he said, taking her arm and helping her settle in a chair.

“I'm so sorry,” she gasped. “I don't know what happened. All I did was put the potatoes into the hot oil. It took on a life of its own! I've never seen anything like it.”

“They were frozen, Mag. You always make fresh. You have to sort of ease the frozen ones into the oil.”

“How do you know that? Sometimes lately I feel so incompetent.” She put her hand flat on her chest over her heart. “Goodness, my heart's still pounding.

Trent grinned. “I know because I did the same thing after I started cooking for myself. It didn't take long after you moved out for me to get sick of waiting for the delivery kid to bring my dinner. I've gotten pretty good at cheese steaks and frozen pizza.”

“Well, I've lived my entire life not buying frozen potatoes and I think I'll go right back to old habits. I make fresh from here on,” she said, sounding just a touch mutinous.

“Why'd you try frozen now? Like you said, you never did before, and your fries are great.”

Maggie shrugged, looked guilty and checked the room—for little ears, he guessed. “Daniel doesn't
like my cooking. He's always comparing the way Sarah did things to the way I do them. Then today he said that she always made them fries with their lunches. I thought it would take too long my way, and these were in the freezer.” She shrugged. “As I said, sometimes I feel so inadequate.”

For Trent, who was still trying to decide how close a relationship he wanted with Maggie, especially considering his earlier pique with her, it was a difficult moment. Part of him, the part still angry and hurt over her desertion, wanted to tell her that from now on she'd better be careful what she wished for because she just might get it—four times over. The other part wanted to reassure her, maybe give her a hug. He longed to feel her in his arms even if it was only to seek or give comfort, but he refused to think about why.

“Sarah's a hard act for anyone to follow,” he said instead, hoping for middle ground. “Don't stress over things like cooking as long as the kids get fed.”

“But I want to be a good mother for them. I want them to be happy again.”

“I know you do, and having a whole different set of adults taking care of them is not only new to them but may even be a little scary. But some new food isn't going to hurt them.”

Maggie sighed. “But they don't laugh, Trent. Even Grace. I only get little smiles. Sometimes I'm tempted to just tickle the lot of them ‘til they start laughing or crying. Just so they show some genuine emotion. Right now, I think all of them are just existing. Especially Mickey.”

“Daniel looked to be having a great time on his Big Wheel.”

“Did he laugh?”

“Well, no. But he was coming to tell me you were burning the house down. It was exciting, but not a very funny situation.”

Maggie frowned. “Now there's an idea. Why'd you put the fire out at all? Our troubles would be over. Paradise Found? They should have called it Stuck in Purgatory! Can't you see this refuge from the turn of the century reduced to smoldering rubble? I—” Maggie gasped, shock and dismay reflected on her finely drawn features as tears flooded her eyes. “Oh, I can't believe I said that!”

It was those tears that had Trent reaching out to comfort her. He put his hand on her shoulder, determined to do no more than give her a reassuring pat. “It's okay. The condition of the house was a shock to me, too. But you'll see. It won't take all that long to put it all to rights. I'll probably have most of it done by Christmas.”

She sniffled. “You?”

“I'm going to do it myself. Just the way Mike planned to. He did the work by himself. This place was his grand old lady. And he really did see this as paradise. Everywhere I look I see his hand, his plans. I have to finish it for him.”

“But you don't do this sort of thing. Trent, you don't know the first thing about renovating a house. Last I heard you didn't even know how to fix a leaking faucet.”

Trent bristled. “I'm learning. Mike didn't know any of this, either, when he started.”

Maggie nodded. and smiled. He wished it didn't look as if it took her so much effort. “You're right, of course. And you did get the hot-water tank in.”

“Right.”
And it only took three times as long to do it as the book said. At this rate this house will take me years.

“Could we at least have some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Daniel said. His voice was the wrong side of a whine for Trent's liking. “I'm starved. Mom always made lunch on time.”

Maggie jumped up. “Oh, of course. I'm so sorry, Daniel. It'll only take me a minute.”

Trent leaned back against a counter and watched Maggie bustle around making lunch. Something about Daniel's attitude just didn't sit right, but he couldn't put his finger on why. “Hey, I'll have one of those while you're spreading,” he told Maggie. “Let me give you a hand. Juice all around?”

Maggie shot him a grateful smile. “It's never that easy. No one ever wants the same thing to drink. You'd better ask them. Would you mind getting them to the table? It would be a big help.”

Trent stared across the fields, watching the sunset. He leaned back in the porch swing and closed his eyes. Setting the swing in motion, he tried to drift without thinking. He was tired but it was a good kind of tired—the kind that settled on you after a hard day's work that was full of accomplishments. He knew Maggie was tired, too, but
her
tired came from
stress and worry—and, he was afraid, near exhaustion. He wished he could feel triumphant over her apparent inability to completely cope with her new role, but watching her struggle and refuse to admit defeat tugged at his heartstrings.

He knew his decision regarding the path their marriage would take from here wouldn't ease her mind. But he had to protect himself from further heartache while still protecting the children from his parents. And moving into the apartment over the carriage house was the best solution he could come up with.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Maggie pushed open the kitchen door and came out onto the porch carrying a tray. She inhaled deeply. “Um. Smell that honeysuckle.”

“Mike transplanted a bunch of it from the woods to climb along the rear border fence.”

“I've always thought this was a wonderful place for children to grow up. Think of the adventures Mickey and Rachel have already had in those woods and in that tree house Michael built for them. They have so much more fun ahead, and so do the other two. I want that so badly for them.”

Trent remembered how discouraged she'd been about the kids earlier, and knew that any minute now he was going to make her feel just as discouraged about their marriage. He wanted to soften the blow, so he put off the inevitable a little longer. “Speaking of Mickey,” he said as she bent and offered him a glass of lemonade. “He missed you when I went to see him this afternoon. You've become very important to him.”

Maggie sank into the wicker rocker and set her glass on the matching table next to it. “Your calls while he was in the hospital in Florida meant a lot. He was always a little brighter after them. I confess, I coveted some of that attention for myself as much as the other children did.”

He sighed.
Some things just won't wait.
“I couldn't talk to you then, Maggie. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just needed time to think about everything. About us. About where we're headed from here. I don't want to hurt you now.”

She stiffened, obviously braced. for bad news. “Then you decided against Ed's advice? Your parents meant what they said,” she warned.

Maybe his compromise wouldn't be too disappointing to her after all, considering what she obviously thought he was about to say. “I know they meant it, Mag. That's why I came up with a compromise. I moved into the carriage house apartment. Sarah's mother and yours came over. They took care of Sarah's things in the studio and in the master bedroom, and I went through Mike's. The bedroom is cleared out, but it'll only be me in there. If there's a problem when I'm not over here, just call my cell phone and I'll be right over to help.”

Trent was surprised to see anger blaze in her eyes. “So you aren't even going to let me have a chance to make things right between us. We're supposed to live separate lives except when the children are awake? Are you planning to come home for dinner, do whatever around here in the evenings, then vanish as soon as they're asleep? What about me, Trent? Am
I supposed to do your laundry, too, besides cooking your meals?”

Trent frowned. Was he treating Maggie like a livein maid and nanny? “I hadn't thought of it that way,” he admitted. “I thought that this way we could see where we go from here without either of us having too high an expectation. I'm just not ready to be that close to you yet—sharing a room, a bed. I need the space, Mag.”

A look of deep sadness suddenly drowned the anger in Maggie's big brown eyes, and nearly buckled Trent's resolve. She looked down at her lap, then back up—sadness replaced by a resolve of her own. “How much space? I hurt you badly, Trent, and I want to make amends. But that doesn't mean I'll be your doormat.”

“That isn't what this is all about. Look, I'll cook once in a while. And I'll do my own wash.”

“I'm not talking about housework! I'm talking about Nadine Morresey. I want some assurance that you're trying to resolve our problems. As long as you're still dating another woman, I can't see much hope for us.”

“I've already told her that you and I have decided to try making our marriage work. I haven't seen her since the memorial service.”

Maggie sighed and looked off at the sunset. “Then I don't see how I can deny you the space you say you need.” She turned to look at him, her eyes sadder still, her brow furrowed with concern. “But I worry that your living in the carriage house will affect the children badly.”

He'd worried about the same thing. “If it does, we'll go with some other plan. This isn't necessarily permanent. It's just to give us a chance to move a little more slowly than we've been allowed to do so far. Every decision we've made has needed to be split second, including getting back together. Yes, we have to protect the children, but I think we have to be happy together for them to be happy. Don't you? And right now I'm barely comfortable sharing a dinner table with you, let alone a bedroom. If you're honest with yourself, I don't think you are, either.”

Maggie stood and walked toward the back door, but she stopped on the threshold. When she looked back, her expression was incredibly soft and even a little sensual. “I'm entirely comfortable with you anywhere, Trent. But I can wait.” Her chin went up a notch. “And I
will
wait as long as I have to, because we belong together. I believe it's the Lord's plan for us to be together, but I didn't listen to Him. I tore us apart. I'll find some way to show you how right our marriage is, how much you still need me. That's important to me.
You're
important to me.”

She was gone before he could even think of a response. In fact, even when he thought of a reply, it was a childish lie. He wanted to shout that he didn't need her—didn't love her. But he knew he couldn't resist or deny the love for her that he'd buried deep in his heart—the love that just wouldn't die. The love that sooner or later he'd have to admit to them both.