With Christmas in His Heart. Gail Gaymer Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ she had in him.

      “Will’s such a nice young man.” Ella turned her gaze from the staircase to Christine. “He moved in at the beginning of the season last year in May. I decided I’d like to have someone around, and he’s been a blessing. He’s like a grandson.”

      A grandson? Christine weighed her grandmother’s words, confounded by the unknown relationship. “Mom and Dad approved?”

      “Certainly. They met him on visits before my stroke, but they became much better acquainted when they were here recently. You should come here more often, dear. You’re out of the loop.”

      Christine could have chuckled at her grandmother’s modern lingo, but guilt won out. An occasional trip to the island wouldn’t hurt her.

      “Will’s been through so much with me. He’s the one who called nine-one-one when he realized something was wrong. He saved my life.”

      She realized her grandmother had already told her that, but it was a point she couldn’t forget. How could she dislike someone who had saved her grandmother’s life?

      Will’s footsteps bounding down the stairs drew Christine’s attention to the hallway. He whipped around the corner like a man who owned the place.

      “How about some cocoa?” he asked. He gave her grandmother a questioning look.

      “That would be nice,” Ella said. “And you can bring in some of the cookies Mrs. Fields baked.”

      Christine chuckled.

      “It’s really Mrs. Fields, the neighbor. Not the franchise,” Will said.

      Christine watched him head into the next room, tired of his knowing everything. Right now, she really did feel out of the loop.

      “Linda Fields has been helping me in the morning since your mother left. Dressing myself is difficult. She does other things for me when Will’s at work. She’s been so kind.”

      Christine felt herself sinking lower in the chair. “You can’t dress yourself?”

      “I had therapy.” She rubbed her temple with her right hand. “Occupational therapy, I think is what they call it. They showed me how to get dressed, but sometimes it’s so frustrating. The therapist guarantees me I’ll be as good as new again.”

      The vision of a neighbor helping her grandmother dress wavered in Christine’s mind. She’d never dressed anyone, and the indignity for her grandmother seemed unbearable. “How long?”

      “She’s been coming in since your mother and father left.”

      “No. I meant how long before you’ll be good as new?”

      “It’s up to the progress I make in my therapy. Judy, she’s my therapist, only comes twice a week to see me, and I have to do the routine myself a couple times a day.”

      “Who helps you now?”

      “Will or Linda, but Will’s devoting too much time to me. He has his work.”

      Apparently he’d become her grandmother’s super-hero. “Mom’ll be here soon, and you won’t have to worry.” Christine hated the feeling of inadequacy. She’d never nursed anyone. Apparently Will had. Will this. Will that.

      With Will permeating her thoughts, another question struck her. “Who is he, Grandma Summers?”

      Her eyes shifted with uncertainty. “He? You mean she. Judy’s my therapist.”

      “No, I mean Will. Who is he?”

      “He’s a nice young man who needed a place to stay. I thought I told you.”

      “You did, but you mentioned he has a job. Is it here on the island?”

      Her grandmother’s eyes brightened. “Not just a job. He owns a store in town.”

      “Really?” So Will Whatever-His-Name was a businessman. “What kind of a store?” Hardware, she figured.

      “He’s an artist. Stained glass. It’s so beautiful.” Her grandmother’s left arm twitched, and a look of despair washed over her. “I keep forgetting,” she said, then gestured to the window with her right arm.

      Christine looked to her left and saw a glass angel glinting in the growing sunlight. A rainbow decorated the carpet. She rose and wandered to the faceted design. Clear beveled glass shaped the figure about eight inches high. The angel clasped a vibrant floral bouquet, the only color in the lovely artwork.

      “It’s beautiful.” The unbidden words slipped from Christine’s mouth.

      “Thank you.”

      His voice jarred her, and she turned toward Will, standing beside her grandmother, holding a tray.

      He looked away and set it on the old chest her grandmother used as a coffee table. “Here you go,” he said, handing her grandmother a mug.

      Christine grimaced as she watched Ella struggle to grasp the drink with one hand.

      “Sorry,” he said, retrieving the heavy crockery and pulling a straw from his pocket. “You’ve always been so independent it’s hard to remember.” His warm smile seemed attentive as he tore the paper wrapper from the straw and lowered it into her cocoa, then held it up for her to sip.

      The chocolate aroma wafted in the air and reminded Christine of the years she was a child and her mother would make her hot chocolate in the evening as a lure toward bedtime.

      Christine observed his attentiveness. He was not only a gentleman, but a gentle man. It seemed strange to her, and she couldn’t help but question his motives.

      When Will finished, he grasped another mug and offered it to Christine. The movement brought her back from her thoughts. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the drink.

      He pushed her coat to the far end of the sofa and sat. In silence, they sipped the chocolate, and Christine sensed each of them had sunk into their own thoughts. Hers asked questions about the man who sat across from her looking as if he belonged there while she knew she didn’t. She belonged behind a desk at Creative Productions, where she generated unique promotion ideas for other companies’ ad campaigns. The whole situation coursed through her like a bad case of stomach flu.

      When she lifted her head, Will was eyeing her as if trying to read her thoughts. She turned to her grandmother. “Does your therapist fly in from St. Ignace?”

      “She’s from Vital Care located in St. Ignace,” Will said, “but the nurse is on the island. She works at the Medical—”

      “I was asking my grandmother,” Christine said pointedly.

      Ella shook her head. “Will knows the answers to all your questions, Christine.”

      “I know that, Grandma Summers, but—”

      “He’s been through the whole thing with me. He and Linda.”

      Christine lowered her gaze, reeling СКАЧАТЬ