A Boy's Christmas Wish. Patricia Johns
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Название: A Boy's Christmas Wish
Автор: Patricia Johns
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474076043
isbn:
Neither would he. “I know Linda was hard on you.”
“Kids need love, Dan. She was big on structure and manners but pretty low on affection. And while I might have been a hard kid to love, I still needed more than she gave.”
Hard to love. Was that how she’d seen herself? And she might have been—he hadn’t known her then, but the thought of her feeling unlovable as fragile preteen who’d just lost her mom was heartbreaking.
“You were a kid, Beth,” he said. “You couldn’t have been that hard to love...”
Beth turned her attention back to the drawer. “Pass me the garbage.”
Dan did as she asked, and she dumped the rest of the contents of the drawer into the trash can, then replaced the drawer.
“Dad never did stand up to her,” Beth went on. “He could have told her that she needed to be kinder. He could have told her to back off and let him have some time alone with me. But Linda was always there, guarding her turf as if I was competition for my dad’s love.”
“I agree there,” Dan said quietly. “He should have stood up for you. You were his daughter, and you were the child. You needed your dad to be your champion.”
Beth smiled. “Thank you. It’s nice to be agreed with on that.”
Dan was the kind of dad who would do just that—stick up for his son. Like Beth said, kids needed love, and if he was ever put into a position to choose between his son and a woman, his son would win. In fact, looking back on it, Beth had done him a favor by walking away. Because even if their wedding had been earlier, Luke would have still ended up on his doorstep, and Dan was glad that he’d never been put into the position to choose between his child and his wife. How had she put it? Danny, asking me to marry you and asking me to be a stepmother to your child are two different proposals! I can’t do this!
He might not have been mature enough back then to make the right choice often enough.
THAT EVENING AT HOME, Beth stood in the living room, looking at the place in front of the big window where they normally put up the tree. The room was bare of Christmas cheer. She’d been home for several days now, and they still hadn’t gotten around to decorating.
“We need to put the tree up, Dad.”
“I’m not real festive this year, kiddo,” he said.
“All the more reason for us to do it,” Beth replied. “I don’t feel like it, either, but I think we need this.”
“I don’t know...” Her father sighed.
“For me.” Beth caught his eye. “I could use some Christmas cheer.”
He pushed himself up from the couch. “If I drag the tree out, then you’ll have to decorate. Deal?”
Rick pulled the artificial tree out of the basement, and Granny joyfully helped add the family ornaments to it. Rick was quiet, but he put a few baubles on the tree, pausing to look at the more meaningful ones like Baby’s First Christmas or one of the few surviving school craft ornaments Beth or Michael had made years ago.
“Do you remember this one?” He held up a Popsicle-stick Christmas tree.
“Not really. I must have been pretty small,” Beth said with a short laugh.
“Well, I remember it.” He put it on one of the branches. “You came home from kindergarten with globs of glue in your hair, but you’d produced this. It was your masterpiece.”
He’d have to remember for the both of them, but his retelling of the story made Beth smile. Over the years, as the glue broke apart and those school-made ornaments crumbled, Linda would toss them in the trash without a twinge of emotion.
“Linda bought this one,” he said, holding up a custom ornament of a book with the cover of her father’s first release. “I know she was difficult sometimes, Beth, but that woman understood me.”
“Your writing, you mean,” Beth clarified.
“She read every book I wrote about three times each,” he said. “She could quote from them. And she knew what I needed to be productive...” He hung the ornament with a low sigh.
Her mother had respected Rick’s writing, too, but she’d been a little less in awe of his abilities. Mom had kept Dad down-to-earth. Linda had admired him more, Beth had to admit. She’d always encouraged him to write, even if it meant she saw less of him. His writing had been her passion, too.
“Where’s the star?” Beth asked as she got to the bottom of the box of ornaments. She looked around.
“Oh...” Her father scrubbed a hand through his gray hair. “It’s up in the attic of the store.”
“What?” Beth frowned. “Why?”
“I couldn’t fit it in the closet without crushing it, so I tucked it up there. I figured it would last longer.”
And Beth could understand that protective sentiment—it was the same star they’d used on their tree for as long as Beth could remember. Nothing exciting—plastic and tinsel. It probably used up insane amounts of electricity when they plugged it in, but it was tradition, and she was softened to realize that her father had quietly protected that star over the years. It was one thing Linda hadn’t gotten her hands on.
“I’ll get it tomorrow,” Beth promised. “You can still drive me to my doctor’s appointment, right?”
“Sure thing, kiddo,” her father said with a nod.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, the doctor was kind and thorough. Dr. Oduwale was her childhood best friend’s mother, and when she was done examining her, she’d looked her in the eye earnestly and asked, “What do you need, my dear?”
“Nothing,” Beth assured her. “I’m fine. I’ve got Dad, and we’re sorting it all out. How is the baby?”
Dr. Oduwale assured her that all was well and they were simply waiting now. Well, waiting—and pretending she was more confident than she was, Beth thought... So she thanked Dr. Oduwale and tried to smile more brightly than she felt.
“Just keep your stress low and get ready for the baby,” Dr. Oduwale said. “Everything looks great. You’ve got to call Abby. She’s missed you.”
And Beth would call Abby...just not yet. She wasn’t sure how much more brilliant confidence she could pull off without cracking.
As Beth walked to the store later that day, she felt more optimistic—and this time it wasn’t an act. Maybe there had been more going on behind the scenes between her father and Linda than she’d ever noticed. Maybe she wasn’t quite as alone as she’d thought if her father had been guarding something as precious and fragile as a twenty-year-old Christmas star all СКАЧАТЬ