Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

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      “So Billy wants Gabe to come home with him after school on Friday.”

      “Fine. And this concerns you how?”

      “I thought I should tell you we’re related.”

      “That still doesn’t explain why you’re calling. Shouldn’t Gabe’s parents clear this with me? Not you.”

      Holly gritted her teeth at his offensive tone. What she’d ever seen in this man was completely lost on her now. At the moment, she was grateful he’d broken it off.

      “I have custody of Gabe,” she said calmly. She didn’t feel like describing how that had come about; it was none of his business—and besides, she wanted to keep the conversation as short as possible.

      “You have custody?”

      The question grated on her nerves. “Yes, me, and it’s working out very nicely, I might add.”

      “Ah … “ Bill apparently hadn’t figured out yet how to react.

      Holly had no intention of allowing him to make any more derogatory comments about her mothering skills. She launched right into her question, not giving him a chance to say much of anything. “Is it still okay if Gabe comes to your house after school?”

      “Uh, sure.”

      “Do you have the same housekeeper looking after Billy as before?”

      The suspicious voice was back. “Why do you ask?”

      “Because I don’t want Gabe visiting Billy if there isn’t any adult supervision.” The after-school program only went until five-thirty, and Bill was often home much later than that, which meant the part-time housekeeper picked the boy up and then stayed at the apartment to supervise him.

      “Oh, yeah, Mrs. Henry still looks after Billy from five-thirty to seven, except for the nights I have social engagements. Then she stays until I get home.”

      He seemed to delight in letting her know—in what he probably thought was a subtle fashion—that he’d started dating again. Well, she had social engagements, too, even if they mostly involved going out with friends, but was mature enough not to mention it. Let him think what he liked.

      Holly waited a moment, hoping he’d realize how juvenile his reaction had been. “Talking civilly isn’t so hard, is it?” she asked.

      “No,” he agreed.

      “Great. Now that’s settled, what time would you like me to pick Gabe up?”

      “You’ll pick him up?”

      “Would you rather bring him back to my apartment?” That certainly made it easier for her. Maybe he didn’t want Holly showing up at his house, but if so, she didn’t care enough to be offended.

      “I can do that,” he said.

      “Fine.”

      “Fine,” he echoed.

      “What time should I expect you?”

      “Seven-thirty, I guess.”

      “I’ll be here.”

      She was about to disconnect when Bill’s soft chuckle caught her off guard. “So Gabe’s your nephew, huh?”

      “I already told you that.”

      “You did. His last name’s Larson?”

      “Yes, Gabe Larson.” She didn’t see the humor in this. “I apologize for calling so late, but I thought it would be best if you and I talked when Gabe was in bed.”

      “Did you think I’d refuse to let the two boys be friends?”

      “I wasn’t sure. Our last conversation wasn’t very pleasant and, well, it seemed better to ask.”

      “I’m glad you did.”

      She was glad to hear that because he sure hadn’t acted like it.

      Holly met Jake for lunch on Thursday. He’d called her at the office that morning and suggested a nearby restaurant; thankfully he’d insisted on buying. She might’ve sounded a bit too eager to accept, because she was sick of making do with leftovers. By cutting back, packing lunches and not spending a penny more than necessary Holly had managed to save seventy-five dollars toward the robot. According to her calculations, she’d have the funds to make the purchase but it would be close. Every cent counted.

      Jake had arrived at the restaurant before her and secured a booth. “Hi,” he said with a smile when she slid in across from him.

      “Hi. This is nice. Thanks so much.” She reached for the menu and quickly scanned the day’s specials. She was so hungry, Jake would be fortunate if she could limit her selection to one entrée. As it was, she ordered a cup of wild-mushroom soup, half a turkey sandwich with salad and a slice of apple pie à la mode for dessert.

      Jake didn’t seem to mind.

      “That was delicious,” she said as she sat back half an hour later and pressed her hands over her stomach. “I probably ate twice as much as any other woman you’ve ever gone out with.”

      “It’s a relief to be with someone who isn’t constantly worried about her weight.”

      “I do watch my calories but I’ve been doing without breakfast, and lunches have been pretty skimpy and—”

      “No breakfast?”

      “That’s not entirely accurate. I have breakfast, sort of. Just not much.”

      “And the reason is?”

      Holly wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She pretended not to hear his question and glanced at her watch instead. “Oh, it’s almost one. I should get back to work.”

      “Holly.” Jake wasn’t easily distracted. “Answer the question.”

      Her shoulders sagged. “I really do need to go.”

      “You’re going without breakfast to save money for the robot, aren’t you?”

      “Sorry, I have to run.” She slid out of the booth and grabbed her coat and purse. “Oh, before I forget. Gabe wanted me to invite you to come and watch us decorate our Christmas tree tomorrow night, if you can. He’ll be at a friend’s place and won’t get home until seven-thirty.”

      He hesitated, and Holly knew why. “I won’t be able to leave the store until at least nine,” he said.

      “I let Gabe stay up until ten on Friday and Saturday nights.”

      He hesitated again. Holly hadn’t forgotten his reaction when Gabe had first mentioned decorating for Christmas. She knew that, like his father, he ignored the holiday—apart from being surrounded by all that bright and shiny yuletide СКАЧАТЬ