The Best Christmas Ever (17 page)

“D
addy, do you love Aunt Sarah?”

Justin almost ran off the road.

“Wh-what did you ask, honey?” he sputtered. Kids always saw everything, he supposed, chastising himself for not hiding his feelings better.

“I love Aunt Sarah. She’s really nice. I just wondered if you love her, too.”

“Well, it’s sorta hard to explain,” he said, then glanced over and saw his daughter’s guileless look. “Yes, honey, I love Aunt Sarah. She’s very nice. But you have to remember, adult love is different. I mean, there’s more than just love to consider—”

He broke off and shook his head. Mickie wouldn’t understand what he was trying to say, when he himself didn’t understand what it was. Besides, she was grinning and looking at something she saw out the window. She didn’t need to hear his fears. He’d admitted to Mickie he cared for Sarah. What would Mickie understand besides that?

A lot, he thought warily, looking again to see if she was going to bring up the subject. When she didn’t, he realized a weight had lifted off him. He’d been wondering how to break his feelings to Mickie and just when to tell her. She acted as though it didn’t matter at all. Maybe that meant it wouldn’t matter if he and Sarah decided to marry. After all, Mickie had told everyone at school Aunt Sarah was her mom. Of course, lying about it and actually allowing someone else into his life were two different things.

Getting remarried was just too much for any one person to handle. He wondered how people managed the stress. Which made him wonder again why Sarah had been so hesitant to return his love. Oh, she enjoyed his kisses and embraces. They had a wonderful time together. And he saw something in her eyes that he’d never seen in his wife’s. Or was it his imagination? Did he really see a tenderness and yearning in Sarah, a desire to be with him always?

Suddenly aware of how much he wanted to see something special in Sarah’s eyes made him realize he’d made the right decision to bring home those applications. She was becoming too much of a temptation and he wouldn’t dare do anything that would hurt his daughter or Sarah’s reputation—or his soul.

“Look! Mrs. Winters is home!”

Justin had just pulled into his driveway, and he saw Mrs. Winters unloading her car. Relieved, he realized he could get Sarah out of the house quickly now. Maybe that was the problem. She was afraid to admit to him she cared for him because she was still living in the house. It would be much harder on them both
if she admitted it while still living there. The temptation would be too great.

Getting out of the car, he allowed Mickie to go over and say hi to one of her favorite neighbors.

“Well, hi there, Mickie. How have you been doing?”

“Great! Did you know my aunt Sarah is living with us now?”

Mrs. Winters chuckled. “Is that so? You like her as your baby-sitter, do you?”

“Yeah, but she can’t cook as good as you. But that’s okay. Sometimes she cooks really,
really
good.”

Mrs. Winters chuckled again and turned to Justin. “I was going to come over later to let you know I was home. Whenever you needed me to baby-sit, I’ll be here.”

Mickie frowned and turned to her daddy. “We won’t need her if Aunt Sarah is here, will we, Daddy?”

Justin laughed. “Well, pumpkin, Aunt Sarah may be getting another job and leaving temporarily.”

Seeing the fear in her eyes, he added, “But she’ll be visiting you just about every day.”

“But you love her,” Mickie said.

Justin flushed under Mrs. Winters’s knowing look. Maybe he shouldn’t have told his daughter that, he thought wryly. He simply shrugged at Mrs. Winters. “Sometimes, pumpkin, that’s why you have to move out. It’s better since we aren’t married yet.”

Realizing that he’d accidentally added “yet,” he flushed in earnest. He wasn’t one to let something slip like that and he didn’t like that he’d done it in front of someone other than Sarah. “You’ll move out one
day, honey,” Justin said, trying to cover his mistake, hoping Mickie wouldn’t realize what he’d said.

“Never, Daddy. I’ll always live with you.”

When she didn’t say anything else, he breathed a small sigh of relief. Things were just too good right now. He was lucky Mickie hadn’t caught his mistake and advertised it to the entire neighborhood. Turning back to Mrs. Winters, he said, “You’ll have to come over and meet Sarah before she leaves. Maybe for supper one night. Let me speak to her first.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Winters replied, and headed toward her door. “Take care of that daddy of yours, Mickie.”

“I will,” she said, and crossed the street holding her daddy’s hand.

“Well now, if you’re gonna take care of me, then don’t you tell Sarah about the gifts we shopped for. Just go find her and tell her I’m home for lunch.”

“Okay!” Mickie said, and started up the stairs.

Sarah stared down at the pile of papers on the small writing desk. On top of them lay a clean sheet of computer paper with the words
To Do:

Underneath she wrote:

1. Tell Justin I’m infertile.

2. Tumors discovered during annual Pap. Only one-quarter of an ovary left.

3. Why André dumped me…

No!
she thought, and drew a line through the phrase.

3. Doesn’t deserve half a wife.

4. But I love him.

5. Give him doctor’s reports and tell him he can have time to read them.

Loud steps sounded on the stairs and Sarah realized Mickie and her daddy were home. Quickly, she shoved all the papers in the top drawer. Mickie was a dear, but she would question her to death if she caught her writing.

“Guess what?” Mickie said, running in. “Mrs. Winters is back and we bought Christmas presents and Daddy says you’ll move out, probably until you marry him, and he’s only going to be home for lunch today and you need to come fix it for him—can I go to the next-door neighbors’ since I’ve already eaten?”

Sarah blinked. Then she nodded. “But, Mickie,” she said as Mickie turned to run out the door, “don’t be telling anyone else what you told me, okay?”

Mickie shrugged and was out the door. Sarah realized she hadn’t made a bit of sense, but how could she have when she’d suddenly found out Justin was talking to his daughter about her and Justin getting married. And she hadn’t even had her talk with him yet!

Going down the stairs, she caught Justin just as he was coming into the living room. Swallowing her fear, she said, “I need to speak with you.”

When she realized she’d left her notes upstairs she started to turn. Justin’s smile stopped her.

“I want to talk to you, too.” He caught her hand. “Come in here.”

The phone rang, stopping him, for which she was
thankful. She turned once again to go get her notes. That was when she saw Justin’s face darken.

Looking up at her, he said, “Can you hold this until I go into the other room?”

She nodded and went over to where Justin stood. Lifting the phone to her ear, she planned to wait until she heard the click of the extension. She was distracted when Mickie came barreling down the stairs with her doll. Sarah covered the receiver and asked Mickie to close the door.

When she lifted the receiver back to her ear, she got the shock of her life.

“Okay, Drydan, what do you want?”

Drydan Watson was on the line. Her stomach dropped to her toes and she felt ill.
Put the phone down. You’re invading his privacy,
her mind screamed, but her heart kept the phone to her ear.

“I want bygones to be bygones. My son is back in town and I finally found out what was going on between those two.”

“This really isn’t any of my business, Drydan.”

“But it is when she’s tried to ruin my reputation. You see, my son found out she was infertile and trying to marry him for his money…”

The sound of a car door penetrated Sarah’s hypnotic haze and she lowered the phone. She stood staring at the receiver, dizzy with pain. She had wanted to tell Justin. Drydan would make her sound guilty. She knew how manipulative he was.

She had to tell Justin her side of the story.

Panic gripped her heart and she forced herself to take first one step, then another, toward the library. She would go in there, explain that Drydan was a liar,
tell Justin everything: that she was infertile—or at least, they were ninety-nine percent certain. No, she would be honest. There was no way she could have kids. The chances were less than a million to one, as far as her doctor was concerned. She would tell Justin that and explain that she was just afraid.

Her heart beat loudly in her ears, sounding like someone pounding on wood.

Sarah’s head whipped around. No, someone
was
knocking. She hadn’t been able to distinguish the sound over her own thudding heart.

Who in the world could it be? Now, right when everything was caving in on her, who could be knocking at her door?

She hesitated, thought not to answer it, but then, feeling her courage drain in the face of what Drydan had had time to tell Justin, she turned and ran to the door as if she’d been tossed a lifeline. Maybe it was Bill. Maybe it was Marcy or maybe…

“Oh, no…It can’t be!” she whispered when she opened the door. She grabbed the wooden structure for support and gripped it as her knees gave out.

“Sarah? We need to talk.”

André stood there, his hair ruffled from the breeze, a look of seriousness in his eyes that boded ill will.

“M
ay I come in?”

Sarah swallowed hard. “Yes.”

When she just stood there, André took her elbow and escorted her to the couch. Sarah’s mind was numb. All she could think was that Justin was in one room talking to Drydan and her whole present was about to fall apart, while André had just shown up at her door to rehash the past.

“Sarah. Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” she focused on André. Dear, gorgeous André, who had his whole life ahead of him now that he’d gotten rid of his little problem. Namely her.

“I said, I can’t believe what my father did. I meant what I said when I told you I was taking some time off to think. My father had no authority to have you fired. You were my legal assistant. He took too much upon himself.”

Forcing herself to concentrate on André, she was surprised by his words. “Look, André, you were
dumping me. What did it matter?” All she wanted was to get to Justin and explain.

“Dumping you?” André shook his head, shock evident on his face. “Sarah, I told you I needed time to think. That’s what I did. My father is the one who was behind the rest.”

Sarah didn’t understand, but he certainly had her attention. “What are you trying to say, André?”

“I love you. I still want to marry you. Look, I know my parents put you through the ringer, and I’ve had a long talk with them. They won’t interfere again. I was especially furious when my father told me you were working as a housekeeper! A housekeeper, with your experience.”

“Well, it wasn’t as if I could get a reference from your father,” she said sarcastically, her pain and anger coming out against this man.

“No. And for that I’m sorry. Why didn’t you call me? I left my number with…”

His voice trailed off and she couldn’t resist asking, “Your father?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Yes, my father.” He growled. “I’ve been an idiot. I thought I needed time alone and found all I could think of was you. Only you.”

He stood and began to pace, pushing his coat back so he could slide his hands into his pockets. “It doesn’t matter if we have children or not. I’ve let my father dictate my life too long. It’s you I want. I understand you were hurt and didn’t have anywhere to go and your ex-brother-in-law took you in. I just hope he hasn’t taken advantage of the situation.”

“André!” Sarah said, shocked.

André turned back to her. “I didn’t mean that. I’m still upset over the fight I just had with my dad. Can’t you understand? I love you. I want you back. Are you planning to work here the rest of your life?”

Sarah thought of the applications Justin was supposed to bring her. “No, André,” she said wearily. “I don’t plan on staying a housekeeper.”

“Good. I’m setting up my own practice. I want you to work for me. You won’t have to worry about my father again. What do you say?”

“That sounds like a good idea, Sarah. Maybe you ought to consider it.”

“Justin?” She whirled around to find him standing near the foot of the stairs at the entrance to the side hallway.

He sauntered into the room. His features were masked, but there was something roiling in his gaze. Anger? Disillusionment? Hurt? Pain? “I said André has offered you everything back. Sounds too good to pass up. You ought to consider it.”

Just like that her hope died. Justin had talked to Drydan and Drydan had carried through on his threat. He had told Justin about her infertility, plus who knew what else. And Justin saw this as the perfect way to get rid of her. She wouldn’t have believed it of him.

Of course, she didn’t have any right to be upset. She’d told herself she’d give him the right to choose. And he chose a better life for his daughter than her being an only child.

She was glad for the numbness right now. It would help her deal with everything. But later—oh, yes, later—she would grieve what she was losing. Because she realized she didn’t love André at all. No, it was
Justin she loved—deeply. And she doubted she would ever love anyone again as much as she loved Justin.

Forcing herself to swallow, she nodded. “Thank you, Justin. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave now.”

“You don’t have anywhere to live,” Justin reminded her.

“I’ll see she has a place,” André said, not unkindly. “You can’t expect me to allow her to continue to work as a housekeeper here, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose I’d like it, either,” Justin said.

Sarah noted the way the two men talked over her. Normally, she would be spitting mad, but she still didn’t feel anything.

“I’ll send someone for my things,” she said, and without looking back walked to the door. “Tell Mickie—” the pain in her heart broke through the numbness and she gasped “—tell her goodbye.”

“Sarah…” Justin said.

But she didn’t stop. She felt André’s hand on her, escorting her to his car. She was grateful.

“I’ll take you to my house and—”

“Take me to Bill’s.”

“Now, Sarah,” he began.

“Take me there or I’ll walk.”

“As you wish,” André said reluctantly.

Sarah laid back her head and closed her eyes. Only then did she finally allow the pain to engulf her, and the tears to silently flow down her face.

“What a fool,” Justin berated himself, going back into his office and sinking into his chair. “Why did you let her go like that?”

But Justin knew. Oh, it wasn’t because of what Drydan had said.

He knew that Drydan had not told him the truth. Sarah wasn’t a manipulative person who tried to marry André for his money.

No, Sarah had loved André. And for some reason, André had left her. Probably because he’d found out she was infertile.

Justin wondered if Sarah had planned to tell him. He was still reeling over that. Why hadn’t she told him? Was she worried he’d be angry? Or maybe she was worried he’d kick her out? After all, he’d taken her in off the streets.

But he wouldn’t have done anything like that, because he loved her.

He’d gone out to confront her, and had heard André saying his father had been behind everything.

It was then that he realized why Sarah hadn’t been able to voice her love for him. She was still in love with André. And knowing Sarah as he now did, he understood that she wouldn’t have told him, would feel guilty for leading him on.

It had broken his heart to know she was coming to him just as Amy had.

But he wouldn’t let her do it. Not just for him and Mickie, but for her, too. That’s why he’d told her she might want to try going back to André.

And she hadn’t even put up a fuss; she’d jumped at the idea.

He’d thought he hurt when Amy died, but he knew he was hurting again—a wound he wasn’t sure he would get over this time.

He scrubbed at his eyes, trying to erase the images
his mind conjured up of Sarah. But it was no use. She was there, would be there—

“Daddy, where did Aunt Sarah go?”

Justin’s head shot up.

Mickie was standing in the doorway, holding her doll, staring at him uncertainly.

What could he tell Mickie? How could he tell her?

“She moved out, honey,” he said.

“Moved out? But she didn’t tell me goodbye. She promised she’d always tell me goodbye.”

Justin didn’t know what to say. Angry at Sarah and himself for putting his daughter through this, he vowed never again to get involved with a woman. He held out his arms. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.”

In a flash she was across the floor and climbing into his arms. Little sobs shook her body, and he rocked her, his own tears silently falling down his face. Why, oh, why, had he allowed the woman such a place in his heart?

He didn’t realize his daughter had stopped crying or that it had gotten dark out. He did feel the touch of her small hand on his cheek and hear her whispered words.

“It’s all right, Daddy. She’ll come back. Don’t you worry.”

Looking down at the small child who was trying to comfort him, he hugged her close. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “What say we go make a chocolate coconut cake with extra coconut?”

“That sounds good,” she said. But though she replied positively, her little eyes were far too serious.

Justin realized then that he’d have to push Sarah
from his mind and concentrate, instead, on the life he had right in front of him. In time, he and Mickie would heal. Someday they’d be happy again.

Wouldn’t they?