'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (47 page)

Chapter Twenty-five

Her little hand found his. “Thank you, sir, for bringing Abbie. You didn’t break your promise.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Of course I didn’t break my promise. I always keep my word. Good luck tonight. I’ll be close by, watching you, and if at any time you forget anything, look at me, and I’ll help you. The carol you chose is probably the only song I know all the words to.”

“I will.” She tugged on his hand until he kneeled down so she could whisper in his ear. “Nicholas cried—all day.”

Sadness filled him until he saw the wicked glint in her eye. Something was up. “You didn’t mind?” he asked, curious.

Her sly expression intensified. “I helped him—”

“Come along, children. We must get ready. Everyone is starting to sit down now, and the celebration will begin soon.” Sister Agnes hurried to gather the children and stopped Abbie as she made to follow. “Not tonight, my dear. Stay and enjoy the children’s performance.” Once the Sisters had the children assembled and heading toward the back of the stage, Sister Agnes beamed at Marcus and whispered in his direction. “I’d like to talk with you as soon as we get the little ones ready.”

“Of course, Sister. Any jobs you have for me?”

“Keep Abbie company.”

“That’s not a job, Sister, that’s a pleasure.”

“I’ve no doubt, my good man, I’ve no doubt. Come, children, let’s get this show on the road.”

Marcus guided Abbie to the front, where both their families awaited them. They were to sit near the vicar, who’d saved them seats. Madeline, her face lit with happiness, tapped the chair next to her own and pulled Abbie down, forcing Marcus to sit at the end of the row. In case Cece needed him, he figured the seat was probably the easiest to get out of anyway, so he settled down to enjoy the show.

Perversely, something niggled at him and made him feel restless. Why in the world did Sister want to talk to him later? The fact that she’d looked happy shocked him somewhat. She knew how desperate they’d been to adopt Nicholas and how hurt they were to have lost him. Why would she look so cheerful?

However, before he could figure out what the hell had just happened, the curtain opened and some of the older kids stepped forward and began to sing the more popular carols. They followed the direction of one of the younger nuns, who invited everyone in the audience to join in.

After the angelic darlings finished, Cece, dressed in her long, white silk robe, stepped up on a special platform behind where the manger scene lay waiting for the actors. She stood with her golden bouncing curls encircling her pretty face and her tiny hands in a prayer-like position, resembling a small statue. She waited patiently for her cue.

But now that the piano had stopped playing and the voices had stopped singing, the furious wailing of a baby could be heard from the back of the church.

Shuffling noises from behind the curtain, accompanied by rustling and periodic crashes, let the audience know something was amiss. Meanwhile the cries grew louder and fiercer. It was obvious to those who recognized his sound that the baby Jesus refused to behave like a holy child, and was being more like a holy terror. Marcus felt Abbie start to stand, but he pulled her back when he saw Sister Agnes scurrying their way.

The nun bent to whisper so they could both hear. “Is it possible we might call on you two for help? Unless you come, I don’t believe the nativity will go on.”

“Of course, Sister,” Marcus replied, as he and Abbie moved to walk behind her.

As soon as they reached the area behind the curtains, Abbie rushed to where the sobbing, hysterical child struggled and squirmed in the arms of one of the older nuns. Gathering Nicholas into her arms, Abbie held him close and shushed him with love words and kisses. Marcus followed, in order to get as close as he could, so the baby would see his face.

“Sorry to interrupt your chance to watch Cece from the audience, but our Baby Jesus will ruin everything unless we can beg your help. Frank and Martha—Jesus and Mary—are quite willing to give you their costumes if you and Abbie will play their roles. Nicholas won’t behave for anyone else, thank you, Lord, and it looks like we have to depend on you.”

“Why are you thanking the Lord?” Marcus had seen the glee in her expression when she’d said those words, and his heart started beating double-time. Something was up, he’d bet his bank account on it.

“Because he cried all last evening, and today, too, when his prospective parents visited. And because they couldn’t soothe him no matter what they did, and because they became so frustrated as the hours wore on, they’ve declined to take him, after all. When I told them he’d been acting the same way on and off since birth, I might have misled them somewhat, but I never did lie. It’s true that when he spends too long away from Abbie he becomes distraught.”

Marcus grabbed her hands and hung on. “What are you trying to tell me?” His legs turned rubbery.

“They’ve backed out of the adoption, Marcus. Decided to try for a child of their own for one more year. May God bless and keep them! And grant them their wish.” She made the sign of the cross, and Marcus found himself copying her actions. But his joy couldn’t be held in. He lifted her in his arms and swung her around, and then followed that with a loud smacking kiss to her cheek.

Rushing to Abbie and Nicholas, he begged, “Abbie, don’t cry, my love. He’s ours. The other couple has backed out. He’s ours.” Choking on the words, Marcus swept both Abbie and the now quiet baby into a hug and rocked them both. First his lips found Nicholas’ forehead and then Abbie’s. “He’s ours.”

He’d never forget the joy spread across Abbie’s face. Never!

“We can adopt him?” Her voice quivered so badly he had trouble making out her words.

“Yes, my darling girl. We can and will adopt him.”

A loud cough interrupted their kiss. Sister Agnes, ever so thoughtful, gave them a minute to not only wipe away the baby’s tears but also their own.

“You want us to play Joseph and Mary? What is it that we have to do and say?” At that moment, Marcus could have sung “God Save the Queen” in front of Her Royal Highness, he felt so empowered.

“The children are the ones who have lines, not you or Abbie. All you need to do is follow the Three Wise Kings out on stage to where the manger is, and lay the baby there. Then kneel and look at him the way you are right now, and it’ll go perfectly. We’ve told Cece to sing her song once you’re settled, and then when the Kings bring you their gifts, accept them and wait for the final song, ‘O Holy Night,’ which everyone will sing with the choir.” That’s when we’ll close the curtains, and it’ll be over.”

While Sister talked, Abbie passed Nicholas to Marcus and pulled the filmy blue-and-white robe on over her dress. Once Sister fixed her veil, Marcus had to hand Nicholas back. At that moment, no one other than Abbie could have taken the baby away from him without a fight.

Nicholas was now lying placidly, cooing and babbling for all he was worth, as if he had a story that needed telling and had only waited for Abbie so he could share it. His tears had dried, and only the occasional hiccup and quiver of his lower lip reminded them of his recent heartbreaking performance.

Marcus, seeing Sister’s edginess, hurried to get his robe on over his suit but got stuck halfway into it. He had to bend over and put his hands out in front so they could peel the garment back off him. Everyone began to talk at once and offer suggestions until, thinking quickly, he took off his jacket and tie and then yanked the material into place, cussing under his breath at Frank’s smaller build. He plopped the silly headgear on top of his hair, squashed it down as far as it would go, and then took Abbie’s arm. By then, everyone else was ready. They all stepped into place and made their way onto the stage while the audience quieted.

Like the little angel she was, Cece watched them kneeling and a smile lit up her face. She stepped from her perch and reached down to take Nicholas’ hand in hers. She stayed in the same position during the following recitals, and when her time to sing arrived, she waited for her cue and started without any hesitation whatsoever.

Her tiny voice rang out in the now silent room, and Marcus watched as most of the congregation wiped at their eyes and tried to hide their trembling lips behind their hands. Even the men he saw in the audience were touched, moved beyond words. Tears crowded into his throat, while he lifted his hand furtively to place it on Cece’s tiny back in support, and was glad he’d thought to reassure her. As soon as she felt his touch, she smiled into his eyes and sang even louder. Everyone heard the joy she felt by the way she motioned with her body, sweeping her arms wide to encompass the crowd with the last few words of the final verse.

Hearing sniffles, Marcus looked toward Abbie, whose expression mirrored the same love and pride he knew rested in his. How lucky could a man be? The woman he loved, gazing at him as if he’d reached up and plucked the stars from the sky and put them in her shining eyes.

Then why did he feel…? What? Bloody well sad, is what. And he’d be damned if he knew why.

Chapter Twenty-six

Tolerating the well wishes of his family and friends, especially with the gloomy feelings he couldn’t shake off, took a lot of patience and self-control, but knowing how happy Abbie and his mother were, Marcus resigned himself. All he wanted to do was go home, hold Abbie in his arms—preferably in his bed—and curl himself around her beautiful body. It eased his discomfort somewhat to know he soon would, but an annoying niggle continued to affect him. It kept him off kilter, making him restless. Something wasn’t right. No matter how satisfied he knew he should be, that stupid pang of discontent wouldn’t let go.

He looked over to check on Abbie. Happier than he’d ever seen her, she sat in the midst of all her friends, cuddling Nicholas, who rewarded her with a toothless grin while his baby arms waved randomly and his tiny fingers fisted and opened as if moving to music only he heard.

A sigh escaped, the kind he usually experienced when something upset him. He twisted his neck from side to side to relieve the tightness in his muscles while he continued to scan the room. A smile he couldn’t hold back escaped as he watched Sister Agnes trying to round up the naughty young residents from Holly Mount. They were a bit of a challenge.

Automatically searching for the absent golden-haired cherub who had stolen his heart, he breathed a sigh of relief when small fingers nestled in his big hand and a little girl’s body leaned against his leg.

He reached down to raise her into his arms, but her stiff body made it difficult. She wouldn’t let him embrace her, so he was forced to kneel down to search her face. She’d lowered her chin, and he tugged gently until finally she let him see into her tear-swollen eyes.

Before he could speak, she did. “Mr. Chapman? Are you and Abbie going to ‘dopt Nicholas? I heard Sister telling the vicar.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted, Sweetheart? For him to be with me and Abbie?”

Nodding her head, sending her soft curls flying in every direction, she agreed. “Oh, yes. I think he’s the luckiest boy in the whole world. To live with you and Abbie, he’s really, really lucky.” Her chubby arms snaked around his neck, and she hid her face under his chin.

If a little girl’s voice could reveal aching wishfulness, then Cece had it down pat. One second he was in the dark, and the next moment the light of understanding filled him. So that’s why he’d felt unsettled earlier. He held her tiny body away from him and stared into her watchful eyes. There, plain as day, he saw the shyness, the anxiety and the blatant pleading.

Good Lord! Another female who can twist me around her finger.
He grasped the truth, and the knowing filled him with peace and instantly erased all his earlier uneasiness. He’d like nothing more than to add this little moppet to his growing family. She returned his loving smile with a wobbly one of her own, seeming to read his commitment in his eyes.

So be it. One thing was certain. He and Nicholas would surely have their hands full.

******

Afterword

Thank you so much for reading
Together for Christmas.