Kelly Santa Dear

1. Auflage 2011
ISBN: 978-1-61842-654-3
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 186 Seiten

Santa knows when you're naughty or nice...and he knows Trish and Sam belong together. It'll take more than the wishes of a small boy to get these two to see past their preconceived ideas and drop the baggage from their pasts. It'll take a little holiday magic.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Kelly, Megan

Leseproben

CHAPTER ONE "I need a man," Trish Howell said. "Can I borrow your husband?" Jenny McIntire gawked for a moment then snapped her mouth shut. "What for?" "For about an hour, maybe less. I wouldn't ask, but I'm pretty desperate." Trish lowered her gaze to Jenny's kitchen table, trying to keep a straight face. "I know Bart has experience. I just hope he's good enough to fake it." "I doubt he'll have to fake it." Jenny smirked. "And I'd be surprised if it took him an hour." Trish laughed. "I need him to play Santa for Tyler." Jenny smiled in response. "Oh. That's okay then. Did Tyler find out about Santa from his friends?" Trish nodded and took Tyler's letter from her purse. She passed it across the table. The words were branded on her heart. Dear Santa, My frends say you arent real, your just a story. Like my dad. If your you, please wak me up wen you come to my howse. I want to meet you. Your frend, Tyler. Ps. Dont forget I want a reel bike. Jenny laughed, and Trish leaned forward with a scowl. "What's so funny?" "Isn't it amazing that kids never add their last names when they write Santa? As though Santa will automatically know which Tyler this is." Jenny's grin melted under the heat of Trish's gaze. "Sorry. I didn't know you were taking this so seriously." Trish couldn't believe Jenny had missed the point. "Of course I am." "All kids doubt Santa sooner or later. You'll get through it." "This is different, Jenny. I can deal with scraped knees or an upset stomach. But this …" Trish looked away. "Ahh." Jenny nodded, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. "Being a single mom is the pits when there's a crisis." The familiar ache of loneliness swept through Trish. "Having to make every decision by yourself is always the pits." "And you always handle it perfectly, honey. Just like you will this time. You're the great organizer, the great fixer. I have faith in you." "Well, I don't want to be 'the great fixer' anymore," Trish said. "I wish I had someone to rely on for a change. It's awful to say, but at times like this, I could almost hate Duke for dying." "From what you've told me about Duke, I have to wonder how much help he would have been." "Probably not much." Trish straightened and tucked a strand of unruly red hair behind her ear. "But since he isn't here, I guess I'd better think of something. It's already the week before Thanksgiving. What would you do?" "Praise Tyler for his spelling? You have to admit, he spells really well for just being in kindergarten." "Look closer at the writing, Jen. I think Nick helped him." "My Nick?" Jenny snatched up the extra-wide-ruled paper and scanned it. "This is atrocious for a second-grader. I can see we'll be sitting down with extra spelling work over Thanksgiving break." "How old was Nick when he--" Trish dropped her tone to a whisper even though they were the only ones in the house. "Learned about Santa?" "Ten or eleven, I hope," Jenny whispered in return. Trish groaned. "He doesn't know yet? I don't want to perpetuate a lie if it's time for Tyler to learn the truth. On the other hand, he is only five. That's awfully young for a kid to lose Santa, too." "Too?" Jenny paused a moment, searching Trish's expression. "Is it Tyler doubting Santa that's bothering you or the line about his dad just being a story he's heard?" Trish wrapped her hands around her tea cup and glanced over at Tyler's letter on the table. "That really got to me, Jen." Jenny squeezed Trish's arm. "Are Duke's parents still giving you a hard time about Tyler?" "Jock hasn't said anything." "What did Miriam say?" Trish grimaced. "I don't want to get into this right now." "She's so critical about the way you're raising Ty. Every time she mentions her friend, Lucille, getting custody of her granddaughter--" Jenny smacked the table. "I just want to shake her. Can't she see what a wonderful job you're doing?" Warm gratitude flooded through Trish. "Thank you. Miriam only sees what suits her purposes." "Why do you put up with her?" "She's Duke's mother. Even though Duke's been gone for four years, I still think of her and Jock as my in-laws. But whatever our relationship is, they'll always be Ty's grandparents." "If you don't tell me what she said, I'm going to imagine the worst." "Same old thing." Jenny snorted. "Yeah, I can just imagine. You forget. I know the woman. We never get to see Tyler." Trish smiled as Jenny mimicked Miriam's long-suffering tone. "You never call," Jen continued. "We feel like we're losing touch with our grandson." Trish smiled wider but didn't interrupt. "You work too hard at your store. Poor Tyler is being neglected." Trish laughed outright. "Were you listening in on our phone conversation?" "No, I've just seen her martyr act before. Remember Ty's birthday party?" Trish shuddered. Miriam had cried throughout the entire celebration because Duke would never see Tyler grow up. "If you hadn't kept her in my bedroom, she would have ruined the party for Ty." She sighed. "I've invited her and Jock over for Thanksgiving dinner. I hope that'll help." "She'll just complain about being usurped as the cook." "Miriam tends to get more emotional around the holidays. I can understand that. Duke was their only child, and Tyler is their last link to him." "And they're going to tighten the chain that links them until you choke." "Now, Jenny." Trish patted her hand. "I appreciate your loyalty, but I don't think it'll be a problem. I've always handled them in the past. This year won't be any different." She grinned. "I'm the great fixer, remember?" Jenny leaned back in her chair. Her platinum hair swung into place around her thin, heart-shaped face. The color would have been too harsh on another woman, but Jenny's natural warmth radiated from her dark brown eyes. "If you need me to run interference or something, just call." "Thanks, but I just have to figure out what to tell, or not tell, Tyler." "Okay, here's what I think. The question isn't whether Tyler's old enough to learn about Santa. The question is what would make both of you happy?" "I guess I'll need your husband, after all." "You're welcome to borrow him." Jenny grinned. "But just to play Santa. You're right to worry about him faking it. Ty might recognize Bart under the beard and hat." "I'm afraid so too." Trish growled with frustration. "This is a no-win situation. I can't bring his father back from the dead anymore than I can get Santa to visit." She stopped abruptly and sat silent for a moment, staring past Jenny as half-formed ideas swirled in her head. "Well, now, wait a minute. Maybe I can." Jenny shivered and looked back over her shoulder where Trish's gaze was fixed. "I sure hope you're talking about Santa Claus coming." "What?" Trish blinked. "I'll hire a Santa to visit Ty." "Hire who?" Trish popped up like a champagne cork. She paced quickly around the long kitchen, too excited to sit still. Suddenly the smell of the beef roasting in the oven made her hungry rather than queasy. "This is great. I can get one of those department store guys. I'll probably have to pay him extra to come over late on Christmas Eve, but it'll be worth it." "Whoa, girl. Sit down." Trish spun toward Jenny. "Why? What's the matter?" "You're not thinking clearly. You can't invite a strange man into your house in the middle of the night." "Oh." Trish dropped onto the chair, deflated by reality. "Especially not on Christmas Eve, when you'll have all those presents he could steal, not to mention what he might do to you first." Trish slouched in her seat. Jenny gave her a smug smile. "But I have the perfect solution." Trish cocked her head with wary skepticism. "I'm well-acquainted with the nature of your solutions. They tend to involve my meeting some man." "Just hear me out." Trish sighed in resignation. "Who is he?" Jenny had the grace to blush, but she charged on nevertheless. "Sam Carrow. He's Bart's best friend from high school." She shot Trish an annoyed glare. "The one I've been trying to fix you up with for three months now." Trish spooned some sugar into her cup, wondering how she could change the subject. She missed the intimacy of marriage, but, as for trusting a man again … "I'm not ready yet." "Duke's been dead over four years." "I'm too busy." She didn't intend to let Jenny make her feel guilty. "Sure you are." Jenny rolled her...