Merry Kisses (Riverbend Romance 5) (11 page)

Sonya would have to wait, but what had caused the blank sheet of white on her face? What was going on in her mind? Surely she would give him the chance to clarify.
Please, Lord. Let it not be too late
.

He could explain. He really could. But she needed to be willing to hear his words, and the panic in his chest told him that might not happen.

Lindsey cast him a worried frown. Parents arrived to pick up their offspring and were greeted with walnut mangers and gingerbread cookies. Heath recognized one Sonya had labored over, a bell meticulously lined with silver balls. She’d used tweezers to make it perfect.

Heath wasn’t perfect. He was just an ordinary guy who loved Jesus. When he blew it, he made amends and carried on. His stomach roiled. If only. If only.

* * *

She should’ve stayed to help clean up. After all, she’d promised Lindsey. But that meant facing Heath in front of their friends. Facing Heath at all, really.

Sonya mumbled an apology to Lindsey and ran to her car. What possible explanation could he have, and for what? Had he known Bailey was Deborah’s daughter? He couldn’t have. Sonya had worked for the woman for months and hadn’t known she had a child at all.

But somehow he’d figured it out and sent someone over. Somehow he became one with that neighbor from Sonya’s childhood. Somehow Bailey cowered because of Heath, and Sonya cowered with her.

He’d convinced Sonya that maybe Santa Claus wasn’t the most evil representation of Christmas. Thank God she’d come to her senses before things had gotten any deeper. Being that child again pushed his words aside. Even his kisses.

Tears froze on Sonya’s cheeks as she started her car. The church parking lot was plowed. Probably Heath’s doing. Pitoni Street wasn’t in quite as good of shape, but she wasn’t more than fifteen blocks from home. A good cry, a hot shower, and a snuggle with Tangle might give her strength to survive.

Thanks to Heath, she had enough food in the apartment to stay put until after Christmas. She would shut off her phone, ignore the door, and skip the party of all Heath’s friends out at Corbin’s farm. She winced. They’d become her friends, too. Kelly. Carly. Sarah. Lindsey.

It was hard to see through her tears and the fogged windshield, but she made it to her apartment without causing an accident. So far, so good. She jerked her car door open and dashed for the main doors.

“Sonya! There you are!”

Not Heath. Not his voice. He couldn’t have gotten here ahead of her, anyway. She stopped dead, just like when she’d played frozen tag as a child, then turned slowly around. “Dad?”

“Where were you? Didn’t you get my message?”

“M-message?”

He strode toward her. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside.”

Her insides felt icier than the wind chill. Dad had sent a message? When? How could she have missed it?

Sonya unlocked the door to the apartment foyer then started up the stairs, her father on her heels. She opened the door to her own living space, and a meow from Tangle welcomed her.

“You should really give me a key to your place in case this ever happens again. I do come through Riverbend on business sometimes, you know.”

Mechanically, Sonya removed her coat and boots. “Can I offer you a coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be good.” Dad moved past her into the living room. “What have we here?”

Sonya leaned against her kitchen counter and pressed her eyes shut. “What’s that, Dad?” But she had a pretty good idea. Kelly had offered her a garland and a few ornaments and, like a fool, she’d accepted them. She’d have to see Kelly long enough to return them. Sonya squeezed the bridge of her nose then filled her kettle. The sooner she got through this visit, the sooner she could go back to crying.

“Sonya, Sonya.” Dad’s chiding voice came from further away.

In the kitchen, Sonya got out two mugs and a teabag. The honey jar. A teaspoon. She lined them up carefully three centimeters from the edge of the counter and waited for the kettle to boil while timing her inhales and exhales. When the tea was ready, she took both cups to the table, but that was a mistake. How many times had she and Heath shared a meal here in the past few weeks? Too many.

“Sonya, it seems you have forgotten the true meaning of Christmas.” Dad strode over to the table and gripped both her shoulders.

She stepped back until he dropped his hands. “Your tea is ready.”

“We need to talk.”

About the tea, the decorations, or something else? All she wanted was peace and quiet to cry over Heath. To try to regain some of the peace Jesus came to bring. She had no clue where it had gone.

No clue.

“Your mother says you’ve been too busy to talk lately.” Dad waved his hand toward the living room. “Now I see why you’ve been pushing her away.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Christmas is a holy day, Sonya. Don’t you remember that’s where the word holiday comes from?”

She gripped the back of her chair.

“You’re in danger, daughter. I see signs that the world has found its way into your heart.”

He hadn’t changed. His way was still the only right way. Sonya stared at him, trying to see him through fresh, compassionate eyes. She went the long way around the table and came back carrying the items she’d borrowed from Kelly. They were so few it only took one trip.

“This, Dad? This is a felt wall hanging that says Love, Joy, and Peace on it. This is leading me astray how, exactly?”

“The holly symbols around the words are of pagan origin.”

Sonya shook her head. “Dad, give it up. God made the holly plant, same as any other. These words remind me of why Jesus came to Earth. Seeing this in my home brings perspective.” She squared her shoulders.

Dad sputtered.

“As for this plush kitten with its paws wrapped around a gift? I don’t know if you noticed, but I have a cat. I happen to think Tangle is cute, and I like this decoration. Unless you’ve changed your mind, gifts in themselves are not evil.”

He glowered at her. “The cat is wearing a Santa hat.”

Sonya took a deep breath. “So it is.”

“You should...”

No. It wasn’t right.
He
wasn’t right.

She held up her hand. “Dad, let me make something clear. I’m twenty-seven years old and moved out of your house five years ago.” Fear had kept her bound, though. Fear and legalism. “This is my home. I make my own decisions, and I pay my own rent.” With Carmen and Reed both hiring her for bookkeeping — and hopefully Heath — she stood a chance of continuing to pay for it.

Dad’s face deepened to an alarming shade of red.

Please, Lord, no heart attack. I can’t handle that on top of everything else.

“Look, Dad. I love you. I really do. But you don’t control my life anymore. Sit down, please, and drink your tea before it gets cold.”

He slumped into the nearest chair. “We tried so hard to teach you right from wrong. First your brother. Now you.”

“Oh? What’s Brian been up to?”

Dad stirred his tea. “He refuses to have anything to do with us. He left his wife. He left the church. I don’t know where we went wrong.”

Whoa. She should have tried harder to keep in touch with her brother. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Sonya stroked the words on the hanging again. Love. Joy. Peace. Those hadn’t been exemplified in her household growing up. No wonder she was having such a hard time trusting Heath. How much different his upbringing must’ve been.

“I’ve made a choice, Dad. I’ve chosen joy over fear. I’ve chosen love over legalism. And I’ve chosen peace over strife.” As she said the words, she felt them soothe a little of the pain in her heart. She could choose to listen, too. She could choose to allow Heath to have different motivation than that neighbor long ago.

The foyer door buzzed. Sonya surged to her feet and pushed the intercom button. “Who is it?”

“Heath. Can I come up? Please?”

“Yes.” She pressed the door release and waited. One. Two. Thr—

“Who’s that?”

Dad was slower than she’d expected. “My boyfriend, Dad.” At least, she hoped so after what happened. It was a good sign Heath was on her doorstep.

“Your b—? But you never said anything to your mother.”

For a dozen reasons.

A light tap sounded before her door swung wide open. Heath. In his Santa Claus costume.

* * *

All the words he’d rehearsed fled straight out of Heath’s mind when he saw the scowling gray-haired man standing behind Sonya.

“Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend. Heath, this is my dad. Mr. Simmons.”

The wild joy at being introduced as her boyfriend got shackled and caged the instant he met the chilled eyes of her father. What had Sonya said about her parents and Santa? This was definitely not the best first impression he could make.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Simmons. Your daughter is a wonderful woman.” Heath stuffed his white gloves in his pockets and reached for the other man’s hand.

The gesture was not returned.

Uh oh. Heath pulled off the Santa hat and whiskers then ran his hand through tousled hair. He hadn’t shaved, either. The fake whiskers stayed on better with that bit of traction. Besides, Sonya seemed to like that bit of growth.

Mr. Simmons crossed his arms and widened his stance.

Heath unbuttoned the Santa jacket, shrugged out of it, and hung it. Padded red pants: on or off? He had sweats on underneath. They were at least as decent as the Santa pants. He took off the shiny black boots and stepped out of the red pants.

No one said a thing the whole time. Heath glanced from Mr. Simmons to Sonya. Her face was still pale beneath smudged makeup. Had she been crying?

For better or for worse, Heath was here. He’d been introduced as Sonya’s boyfriend, so he’d act like it, regardless of the way they’d left each other less than half an hour before.

He closed the gap and took Sonya in his arms. He kissed her. Once, though everything in him demanded more. Her dark eyes never left his as he turned them both toward her father, arms around each other.

Heath had never experienced such a wall of silence in his life. “So, Mr. Simmons. It’s good to meet you.” Wait, he’d already said that part. “I hope you had a pleasant trip. Were the roads clear?”

Her dad’s eyes focused on Sonya. “May I speak with you alone for a moment?”

Sonya’s chin came up. “No. Anything you want to say, you can say in front of Heath.”

The man jerked his head toward Heath. “When did he move in?”

Sonya inhaled sharply.
 

Heath slid his hand up and down her back. “This is Sonya’s apartment, not mine. I live across town. But I have visited here before.” Had a nap or two on that sofa. Not that her father would want to know that.

“He came in and practically undressed. No wonder you have pushed your mother and I out of your life.”

“I am fully dressed. See? Shirt, pants, even socks.”

Mr. Simmons didn’t look at him. “But worst of all, he pretends to be Santa Claus. Sonya, come home with me for a few days. Let your mother and I pray over you, that God will forgive you.”

Beneath Heath’s hand, Sonya tensed.
Please, Lord. Help her to choose wisely.

“Dad, I am not coming home with you. I’m an adult, and this is where I live. I cannot tell you how angry I am that you accused Heath and me of living together. You had no cause to say that.” She breathed in deeply then let the air out in a slow, shuddering breath. “You think the worst of me right away. It’s like you want to.”

Mr. Simmons shot Heath a narrowed look. Now that Sonya had proven she had a spine against him.

“You have my word, sir, that I have never taken advantage of Sonya nor treated her lightly. I love your daughter with everything in me. She is a treasure.” This was so not how he’d meant to tell Sonya. “I’d like to have a good relationship with you and Mrs. Simmons. For many, many years.”

Mr. Simmons glared at him. “I have no words to say to a boy who leads children astray with lies.” He held out his hand to Sonya. “Come.”

“No, Dad. I am not coming with you.”

“You have made your decision. Don’t come crying to your mother and me.” Mr. Simmons grabbed his coat from the closet and yanked it on. He plunged his feet into his boots and bolted out the door.

Sonya sagged against Heath. He scooped her into his arms and headed for the sofa. “I love you, Sonya,” he murmured into her hair as she released her tears. “I love you. I’m here for you. Always.”

CHAPTER 14

“I’m sorry, Heath. I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you.” If she begged him a thousand times, would he forgive her?

“Sonya. It’s okay. Really.”

It couldn’t be that easy. “But I—”

He kissed her. “You don’t have to earn my love. You have it. All of it.”

“But—”

He put his finger across her mouth. “I’m not a boy who plays make-believe and tells lies, Sonya.”

Those words of Dad’s had to have stung. “I’m sor—”

“Listen, sweetheart. Okay?” Heath tightened his arms around her, holding her securely. Safe. She was safe in his arms.

“Jesus died for your sins. You know that, right? Once for all. You accept His gift and then you have a new relationship with Him. He doesn’t withhold it on bad days. It’s steady, like the Earth turning on its axis.”

She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and nodded.

“I’m not God, and I can’t claim to love as perfectly as He does. But I’m also not Peter Pan, who refused to grow up. I don’t have my head in Neverland... or even the North Pole. It’s here in Riverbend. With you.”

Those silly tears just kept flowing. She’d practically soaked Heath’s shirt by now. But the words soothed. She did know that about God’s love. She did. Dad might try to manipulate her by giving or holding back favor, but God didn’t. Heath was human, though. Given a few years, would he be like Dad?

“Sweetheart, God is my lifeline. I want His love to flow through me every single day. It’s why I am Santa. Why I did the program today. I want to help point kids — families — to the best gift of all, salvation through Jesus. I don’t do it perfectly. I know it. But it’s what I want more than anything.”