A Child's Christmas. Kate James

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Charlotte brewed another. Painful as it was for Paige to share her burden, she did feel slightly better. They sat at the table, eyes brimming with tears.

      “Honey, what can I do to help?”

      “Just be here for me, Mom.”

      Charlotte squeezed Paige’s hands. “Have I ever not been?”

      On a long breath, Paige turned her hand over and curled her fingers around her mother’s.

      “Do you need money?”

      Paige heaved a huge sigh. “Of course. But I’ll manage.”

      “How much do you need?”

      “Mom, you can’t. Where would you get it?”

      “Our savings. If need be, we can borrow against the house.”

      “Mom, no! You need your savings to live on. And how would you repay a loan? You’re already stretching your retirement benefits as it is.”

      Charlotte patted Paige’s hand. “Let me worry about that. Jason is our priority.” She gave her daughter a firm look. “If you need money, you tell me.”

      Paige sighed again. “I will, but I can’t let you use your savings or take any equity out of the house.”

      “What about Mark? Does he know?”

      “No.” Paige realized her answer sounded abrupt, but given how things had ended with her ex-husband four years ago—over Jason’s initial diagnosis—she couldn’t help it. “I can’t see him offering any assistance.”

      Charlotte peered at Paige over her glasses. It was the look that had put fear into Paige as a child. “Maybe not. But he is Jason’s father.”

      “You remember what happened the first time Jason was ill. Remember, that’s why I decided to trade off child support for sole legal custody. I can’t risk that again, for either of us.”

      “But he has a right to know.”

      “I’ll think about it.” That was the most Paige was prepared to commit.

      * * *

      THEY HAD A quiet dinner together, and Paige decided to leave early the next morning. She’d originally planned to stay three days but was anxious to get back to Jason. The weather forecast was also calling for inclement weather the next day.

      After breakfast, Paige packed her small bag and stowed it in the trunk of the Honda. Her father was back in the den, in his favorite chair, Iris at his feet, when she went to say good-bye.

      “Hi, Dad.” Paige sank down on one knee in front of her father and rewarded the faithful Iris with a scratch behind her ears.

      Her father lowered the paper he’d been reading, then gave her a warm, friendly smile. “Well, hello, young lady.”

      Paige placed a hand on his knee. “It’s me. Paige.” She needed to try before she left, just to see if he would remember her at all.

      “Paige...” He rolled her name around his tongue. “It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?”

      Paige continued to smile, but she withdrew her hand. “Yes, it is.”

      “Such a lovely name for a lovely young woman.” He looked vague for a moment. “I’ve always favored it, I think.”

      Paige felt the sting of tears, lowered her eyelashes and gave her attention to the dog. There was no reason her father should see her pain. When the mist had cleared, she reached into the pocket of her shirt, pulled out a recent school picture of Jason and held it out to him.

      Stephen took the picture and examined it for a minute while Paige tried to distract herself by rubbing Iris’s belly. “What a handsome young man,” Stephen said. He shifted his gaze to Paige. “He resembles you.”

      She swallowed the sob that bubbled up in her throat. “This is Jason. He’s my son.”

      Stephen pursed his lips and nodded decisively. “Yes. I thought so.” He took one last look at the picture before handing it back. “A very handsome boy, as I said. You should be proud.”

      Paige swallowed hard again. “You can keep it if you like.”

      Stephen lowered his eyes to the picture once more. A smile spread across his face. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

      With a herculean effort, Paige held back her tears. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe, before I go?”

      “How sweet of you to ask.” He glanced at his watch, studied it for a moment while his mouth worked, then looked up again. “It should be time for my walk soon, but a cup of tea would be very nice.”

      “I’ll get it for you.” Paige rose. On impulse, she leaned forward and gave her father a hug. He responded to her affection by wrapping one arm around her back, his head just above her shoulder, his mouth near her ear.

      Because of the proximity, Paige caught his softly whispered words. “You’re my darling girl, Paige. You are.” When she straightened, the vague look had returned to his eyes.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      PAIGE WAS RELIEVED that the nasty weather held off during her drive home. Emotionally and physically drained, she didn’t think she was up to coping with treacherous road conditions. A couple of blocks from home, she pulled into a gas station and filled up the Honda. The least she could do was return it to Chelsea with a full tank.

      She parked it in Chelsea’s assigned spot, retrieved her overnight bag and headed inside. None too soon, as the first flakes of snow started to fall.

      She dropped her bag inside the door to embrace Jason, who rushed into her arms. She held him tight and breathed in the baby powder fragrance of his shampoo. If there was a better feeling than holding her son, she couldn’t imagine it.

      Mrs. Bennett joined them by the door. Paige understood the silent support in her eyes and knew she wouldn’t ask how things had gone with Jason in the room. She thanked Mrs. Bennett for taking care of her son.

      “No trouble at all, my dear. We enjoyed ourselves. Jason, make sure you show your mother what you’ve been working on.”

      Jason did just that after Paige had put her things away. He’d painted a winter scape with a large snowman that looked a lot like Frosty.

      “See?” He thrust out a printout of a photo. “It’s the snowman Chelsea and I built!”

      Paige examined the photo, then the painting again. The likeness was undeniable. Her son had a remarkable talent. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “You had a nice time while I was gone?”

      “Yeah, Chelsea took the picture that I used for the painting,” he replied, but the light in his eyes had dimmed.

      Paige stroked his hair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

СКАЧАТЬ