'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (34 page)

“Don’t be naïve, my love. It isn’t me they liked. Somehow, they sensed you. I watched them look into my eyes, and saw them relax, and it shocked me. I’ve never had such experiences before. Children have never taken to me. You know, I’ve wondered about your favourites, the little girl Cece, and Nicholas. How did they get to be at Holly Mount?”

“Marcus, really! I don’t have favourites.”

He figuratively tapped his toe until she sniffed and replied in a small voice,
“So maybe I do. I can’t help it. They’re so precious. How did they come to be at Holly Mount? Hmm, let me see. Cece’s mom gave birth to her in the hospital about four years ago. She appeared from out of nowhere, so the rumour goes, and, after the child was born, she disappeared again. But she did leave a note—I’ve seen it with my own eyes. It was ever so dreadful.”

“Can I ask what it said?”

“Only three words. ‘No more girls.’ I shudder every time I think about it. That darling angel given away because of her gender.”

Marcus experienced her dismay throughout his system. First he felt his bile rise, and then a tightening assaulted his stomach and squeezed the muscles. Sadness followed, engulfing him until he took gentle control.
“What about Nicholas? He’s still so small, his birth couldn’t have happened long ago.”

“His story is similar to mine. We were both left on the steps of the orphanage. Except that my basket was lined with lovely blankets and my buntings were handmade. Whereas, whoever left him had callously wrapped him in newspaper and plunked him in a box right after birth. The night he arrived, I found him wailing his little heart out on the front stoop. The strange thing is, we connected somehow. As soon as I picked up his shivering little body, still covered with his birthing solution, he gave me that stare, you know the one, and he chose me to be important to him.”

“That’s why, whenever I go near, he settles down happily. He senses your spirit living inside of me.”

“Not at all. Marcus, I purposely held back when you approached both of those children. When Cece and the others came running upon our arrival, I had nothing to do with it. You were the attraction. You instill trust in those children, and that’s so important. In their rather sad little lives, many of them have had their faith in adults broken. To me, it’s worse than anything else people can do to their offspring. I mean, if a child can’t believe in their mum or their da, who can they believe in?”

“I would have thought you’d spout ‘love’ as being the most important element that the kids need. You surprise me.”

“There’s a lovely symmetry between loving and trusting, don’t you think? I mean how can anyone truly love someone they have no faith in? Other than children, of course.”

“There’s only been two people in my life that I’ve ever put any faith in. One’s dead and the other drives me batty most days, but I’d trust her with my life.”

“And now you have one more person to add to the list…me.”

“And me for you, my love. I’ll always be there for you.”

So saying, he stepped out from the now parked vehicle, traversed the snowy path to the main door, and stomped onto the front porch of his house. He glanced through the big bay window, which showed his mother surrounded by the trappings of Christmas. The tree lights glowed and the ceiling streamers fluttered, the room a delightful scene for the holidays.

“What an inviting spectacle! Your mother must be wrapping presents. Or so I presume from all the fancy paper and bows flung around the floor. Isn’t she sweet?”

“Her way of reminding me she expects a boot full of parcels to unwrap herself.”
He chuckled and stepped into the warmth. First he removed his gloves and then hung up his coat. Finally, he made his way over to the woman ensconced on the sofa, an old photograph album clutched in her hands.

He leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “Hello, Mother. Having fun are you?”

“I tried, I really did, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I thought carrying on with the festivities would help me forget, but it hasn’t worked. Then I remembered the old photograph album and went next door to my storage and dug it out from my cedar chest.” Her eyes were haunted with memories, and her fingers trembled as she lifted them, motioning him to sit. After she saw his eyebrow rise at the mess where she’d indicated for him to settle, she pushed the ribbons and boxes out of the way, clearing him a seat. “Oh, Marcus.”

“Something is wrong, darling. Your mother is most terribly distraught. What in the world could have happened?”
Marcus felt Abbie’s worry on behalf of his parent and took a second to be thankful for the kindness inherent in his soul mate.

“I’m sure nothing is so dreadful, Mother, for you to be in such a flap. What happened? You’ve forgotten an old friend’s address and can’t send out a Christmas card?”

“Don’t tease, Marcus. I’ve done a terrible thing. I don’t know where to begin or how to undo it. You’ll be very upset with me, and I can’t bear that to happen. Especially now that we’ve become close again.”

Tears gushed from her eyes, ran over the mascara, and formed two black rivulets on her face. She swiped at them and made an even bigger mess. Marcus took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at her cheeks, but as fast as he cleaned, more poured out.

“Mother, nothing can be this bad. I promise I won’t go back to being a scoundrel, so you can tell me what the problem is. How can I fix things if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

“You can’t fix this mess, my dear. No one can except me. I have to break my promise of silence and tell the truth. Now that I’ve seen the dear girl, she deserves to know her background. Who her parents are. Thank God your father isn’t alive to see the mess I’ve made of everything.”

“Hold it! What’s my father got to do with your problem, and which girl are we talking about?”

“Abbie. The girl in the hospital.”

“Oh! Oh! This doesn’t feel good.”

“Abbie? How do you know about her?” The sharp note in his voice made the distraught woman wince.

“Darling, give over. Let her have a chance to tell you what’s wrong before you jump down her throat. Please, be gentle.”

“I followed you last night when you went to see her, and I’ve been in misery ever since. I’ve wracked my brain, trying every way I know how to come up with an answer to deal with the situation, but it all comes down to telling the truth. And here is the proof.”

“What in heaven’s name are you blathering on about, woman?” Anger started building inside, and he couldn’t cover it up until Abbie influenced him by spreading her calmness. Something in his mother’s expression induced fear that built into a solid wall of worry. The acid in his gut churned, and the urge to grab his mother and shake some sense out of her was nearly overwhelming.

Abbie felt his reactions and used a gentle tone to help him settle down.
“Marcus! She’s distraught and not speaking clearly. Surely to goodness, you know how highly strung she is. Flipping out won’t work, so please, talk to her quietly. Stop yelling.”

More tears leaked from between the hands Madeline was using to cover her face. “I shouldn’t have promised, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want your father to find out about what I’d done—he would never have agreed to leave the girl at the orphanage. I knew it to be wrong, but it seemed the easiest choice for everyone involved.”

“Honestly, Mother! I don’t know what you’re talking about, so you must start at the beginning. Who is this in the picture? And why does this man upset you so?”

“That man is Abbie Taylor’s father.” She pointed her finger at the photograph of two people. One was a man who had his arm wrapped around the body of a lovely woman—the lovely woman was definitely his very own mother. “As soon as I saw her, I knew she was his child.”

Everything inside him collapsed. All his bones turned to jelly and numbness took over. He turned to look at the woman beside him, and she seemed to take it as a hint to continue.

“It was wartime, you see? The men were away fighting, leaving the women behind. Life turned brutal overnight for many of us. We tried to carry on, do the best we could. You were just a little boy, and I stayed busy keeping you safe and working our property. We’d started victory gardens, you know, and they were a lot of work.” She stopped and looked his way. Talking had dried up the flow of tears, but her eyes were still drenched. He nodded for her to continue.

Again she dropped her head, becoming entranced with her clasped hands, twisting, trying to mutilate each other. “So I let a few other families move in with me, to give them safe shelter outside London and to help run the place. Only wives, mostly mothers with children, you understand. One day a plane crashed very close by, and we women investigated and found a young German pilot. We carried him to the house and saved his life. His name was Hans. At that time we never knew his last name. The poor bloke wasn’t much older than myself, and he was petrified of being taken a prisoner of war. When the time came, we couldn’t turn him in, so we hid him until his health improved enough for him to escape.”

“You mean—”

“I just couldn’t tell your father about him, or how he’d fallen in love—”

“You just gave Abbie away?”

“I had no choice. I didn’t want to, but it really wasn’t up to me—”

“No, you’ve never taken responsibility for anything, have you?” He slashed his arm down very close to her face when she started to answer and lurched to his feet. “I can’t listen to any more right now. I’m sorry, Mother. You just have no idea of what you’ve done.” He stomped from the room and literally ran up the stairs.

After he left his mother, who’d dissolved in a fit of weeping from his brutal treatment, he hurried to the sanctity of his room and mangled his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. He turned to the one person left in his life who mattered.

“Abbie, please, talk to me. We need to sort this out.”

Her silence scared him.

“Darling girl, I can feel your pain. It’s killing me. Maybe we can figure out together what this all means. Please open to me.”

****

She knew he needed her, and she’d give anything to have him fix things. Only, how could this tragedy be solved? They were related. She had a stepbrother. If anyone had ever told her before this that she had relatives, she’d have been overjoyed and celebrated. Now this news only broke her heart. Sure, they could talk, but how would it help? There was nothing to be done. Other than the possibility that her parents’ medical background might provide them with an answer to her present dilemma, the news devastated her. Oh, God! The faster she could return to her own body, the better.

Leaving him alone to suffer didn’t sit well with her either. Her heart couldn’t handle his anguish along with her own. Too much…it was all too much. To cut the ties would be painful beyond measure, but someone had to do it. He wouldn’t, and she knew it as one knows a truth when it hits them smack dab between the eyes; it would be up to her.

All her life she’d waited for her Prince Charming. She’d kept herself special for the one man who would be hers. That one soul she could admire as well as love. And she’d found him in Marcus, only to lose him again before they even had a chance.

Grateful for knowing she didn’t have to tell him face to face, she proceeded to put her thoughts into words.
“Marcus, I really think it’s better, for now, if we stop interacting. Give us both time to absorb the shock. I already know how much I love you, so if it must be as a sister, what can we do? Past events have already set the future in motion. We have no option but to deal with it.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve tried thinking of a way out of this nightmare, but there doesn’t seem to be any. Keep this thought in your heart. I’ll never love another, Sweetheart, not the way I feel about you. Know that. And always know I’ll be here for you, no matter what happens.”
She felt the rhapsody of his passion as he allowed his feelings to well up and sweep through his whole being.

For a moment she bathed in the beauty of his love, and then she shut herself off
. “ I feel the same, Marcus. Bye for now, sweet man.”

Chapter Thirteen

Earlier than he normally rose, Marcus gave up the pretence of sleeping and left his tousled bed. He decided that since he had no intention of spending time with his mother, the woman who had torn his whole world apart by her unbelievable confession the night before, he had to get out of the house before she could get to him. Prior to turning in, she’d had the audacity to knock at his door, begging for admittance, but he ignored her, and she finally left.

His office, the only place where he could hide and be safe from her, seemed like a haven, except that when he’d tried sneaking off without running into her, he found a note that said she’d left first. The writing was terrible, smudged and difficult to read, while the message made little sense. Seems she’d made up her mind to find some old friends who had to realize that decisions arrived at in moments of stress had far-reaching consequences. What the hell that had to do with him or Abbie he didn’t know and, at this moment, he didn’t care.

Leaving strict instructions to Mrs. Tennyson not to allow anyone to disturb him, including his mother, he paced and brooded the morning away in his office.