All I Want For Christmas (4 page)

“Sorry I'm late,” he said, setting down the treats. “Help yourselves.” He went to hang up his coat and grab his notes and the new signs Corporate had sent.

When he returned, they were eating, sipping their coffee and chatting.

“Thanks for the treats,” Serena said.

Ryan nodded. “Thanks for coming in early.”

“What's that?” Jason nodded at the large, brown-paper-wrapped package Ryan had set in the corner.

“Signs. We'll get to them in a minute.” He started the meeting. “As you know the board of directors expects us to open twenty-five percent more new accounts and fifteen percent more loans than last year,” he said, looking each of them in the eye.

Which should have been easy, since theirs was the only financial institution on the island. But many of the residents preferred to deal with one of several banks in Anacortes, a forty-five-minute ferry ride away.

“Here it is, the end of the first week of November, and we aren't even close,” he said. “To help us reach our goals, Corporate has developed a deposit-and-credit promotion that starts next Tuesday.” Since Monday was Veterans Day and a bank holiday. “Those signs—” he paused to nod at the package propped against the wall “—will be hung tomorrow after closing. That way, they'll be up when we open the doors Tuesday. Right now, I want your input. Do you have any other ideas about what we can do to reach our goals?”

Serena glanced at Danielle. They both looked at Jason. Who drew his bushy brows together and then shrugged. All three suddenly found the cherrywood surface of the table fascinating.

“What's on your minds?” Ryan prodded.

Jason shifted in his seat. Cleared his throat and finally looked straight at Ryan. “We don't see why we should do anything when we'll get nothing in return.”

Ryan was with them there. The Island Banking Corporation, owner of Halo Island Bank and banks on several of the other islands off the coast of the Pacific Northwest, paid low wages and offered no incentive pay. Their lack of consideration toward employees was so demoralizing that turnover was through the roof. Even the previous manager had quit. Ryan didn't need the money or the headaches, and in the four months since he'd taken this job, he'd thought more than once about resigning. But what would he do with his time?

For a moment, he imagined starting a bank that knew how to take care of employees and customers as competition. Now
that
stirred his interest. And made him think. He hadn't been honest with Tina this morning. He
did
miss the hustle and bustle. Not from living in L. A., but from building and growing his own company.

But starting a new bank meant hard work and long hours. He'd given up ten-hour days in order to spend time with Maggie. She was what really mattered. Bad as this job was, it allowed him to work nine-to-five, with time off for school field trips. No overtime, no bringing work home and no weekends. Exactly right for a single father.

“Mr. Chase…Ryan?” Danielle asked. He'd asked them to call him by his first name and she still hadn't quite adjusted to that. “Jason didn't mean to upset you. But you asked and…”

Ryan realized he'd been silent too long, and looking stern, to boot. He forced a reassuring smile. “I'm not upset, just thinking.”

“You're not gonna quit, are you?” Serena asked, looking worried. “Because you're the best manager I've ever worked for.

“Thanks,” he said, wondering whether she'd somehow read his mind. “And no, I'm not quitting.”

All three employees looked relieved.

“But if we don't get the numbers up, I could be in trouble.”

“We don't want you to get fired,” Danielle said.

“Maybe we
should
figure out a way to bump up our business.” Looking pensive, Jason fiddled with a button on the cuff of his shirtsleeve. “How about a free gift, when they open an account or take out a loan? Would Corporate go for that?”

For the next thirty minutes, they brainstormed. At nine forty-five, fifteen minutes before opening time, they wrapped up with a semblance of enthusiasm.

Ryan hoped it lasted.

D
UCKING HER HEAD
against the driving rain, Tina dashed into the Mocha Java, a café and bakery owned by Kate Burrows, her best friend since grade school, and her husband, Jack.

Tall and beautiful as ever, Kate was behind the bakery counter adjacent to the door. “You're here,” she squealed, hurrying around the counter. Tina had called days ago to let her know she'd be in town. “I'm so glad you found the time to come in this morning!”

Kate's friendly welcome was just what Tina needed. “Me, too.”

She wiped her feet on the mat and hung her coat on the crowded coat tree. Then she and Kate shared a warm hug.

“How's G. G. doing?”

“How're you?”

“Gonna be in town long?”

“Heard you're up for a promotion. Good luck.” Kate's customers called out to Tina in greeting.

She knew most of them, and responded with smiles. “G. G.' s progressing well enough…I'll be here until the Sunday after Thanksgiving and back for Christmas…About the promotion—keep your fingers crossed.”

The aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastry filled the air. Tina's mouth watered. “It always smells so good in here.”

“Doesn't it?” Kate headed for the bakery counter and Tina followed. “You just missed Jack. He's taking Sam to the dentist. She has a terrible toothache—I'm worried it's a cavity. And she's not even six years old.”

“Poor thing.” Kate seemed to have the perfect family—an adoring husband, a daughter and a son. “Tell her I'm sorry.”

“Will do.” Kate grabbed a pair of mugs. “How about a cup of coffee and a muffin? On the house, of course.”

“Better skip the coffee. My ulcer's acting up,” Tina murmured, too low for anyone else's ears. No sense churning up the gossip mill.

“Then how about a cup of cocoa, instead?”

“Sounds wonderful, but I can only stay a little while. G. G.' s physical therapy session ends in half an hour. Can you sit with me or are you too busy?”

Kate glanced at her customers, who seemed content. “I don't see why not. If they need me, they'll let me know.”

A few minutes later, muffins and mugs in hand, they sat at a table near the large front window.

“Okay, I heard what you told everyone.” Forearms on the table, Kate spoke quietly. “Now give me the real scoop. What's happening with the promotion? How is G. G.,
really?
And more important, how are you?”

“Tired, and worried about her.” Tina filled Kate in on their bad night. “She's moody and demanding—not at all her cheerful self.” Chin in hand, she sighed. “I'm sorry to say that I actually looked forward to leaving her at the clinic this morning.”

“I feel for you, Tina, but it's probably worse for G. G. Poor woman is in pain. If that's not enough, she's lost her independence. She's not used to relying on anyone, and especially not on the younger woman she raised as her own.”

All true, but that didn't make living with her any easier. “I know, and once she's feeling better, I'm sure her mood will improve,” Tina said. She paused to nibble on her muffin. “If I can make it that long without blowing up at her.”

“You've been carrying the whole burden alone.” Kate offered a sympathetic smile. “You know, Jack can run this place by himself for a few hours. Any time you need a break, call me.”

“Thanks.” To Tina's surprise, tears gathered in her eyes. She hastily blinked them back. “I really
am
tired, I guess.” Unwilling to probe exactly why she felt like crying, she changed the subject. “Your turn. Aside from Sam's toothache, how are the kids? How does Cory like third grade?”

“Loves it. Sam's enjoying kindergarten, too. She's all excited about turning six and having a birthday party at school next Friday. I'm bringing cupcakes and punch—Sam's request. The whole class will be hyped up. Poor Mrs. Jenkins,” Kate said, her cheerful expression at odds with the words. “Then on Saturday, we're having a family and friends' party at our house. Since you'll be in town, you're invited. G. G.' s welcome, too.”

“Thanks. I'll tell her.” The party was over a week from now. Surely by then G. G. would be well enough to attend. “Finally, I'm here for one of your kids' birthdays. About time, isn't it?” Tina meant that.

“Such is the life of a local girl who made good. Think you'll get that promotion?”

“I don't know.” Tina updated Kate on the latest. “Kendra's working hard to convince Mr. Sperling she's the best choice.”

Kate frowned. “I don't like the sound of that. You need to get back there now.”

“You know I can't. Besides, with the office closed the entire week of Thanksgiving, I'm really only gone a little over a week.”

“A very important week. You could hop a seaplane and fly back for a few hours, just to bug the competition. Flying would cut your commute time to an hour, and I'm sure that while you're gone the neighbors will be happy to stay with G. G. And I could stop by with treats.”

Though the idea was tempting, Tina couldn't leave Halo Island just now. G. G. needed her. “It'll be fine. You'd be surprised what I can do from here with e-mail.”

“Have you met Ryan Chase and Maggie yet?”

“At the potluck last night. He loaned me his fax machine—dropped it off this morning on his way to work.”

No sense mentioning how much she'd enjoyed seeing him or how she'd invited him to share a cup of coffee. Or her disappointment when he'd turned her down.

“How sweet. Isn't he a catch?” Kate fanned herself. “If I weren't married and in love with Jack I'd go after Ryan.”

“He
is
attractive,” Tina admitted. “And Maggie is adorable.”

“Isn't she? She and Sam are in the same class, and they're good friends. She'll be coming to the party. It's so sad about her mother.”

“Don't I know it.”

“That you do.” Kate grew solemn, then beckoned Tina closer. “There's even more sadness. Ryan was engaged before he moved here, but the woman walked out on them. Then the nanny left. Can you imagine? That's why he and Maggie came to Halo Island, to put the bad times behind them and start fresh.”

Trust Kate to know everything about everyone. “I hadn't heard that,” Tina said.

Ryan must have been hurt terribly. Maggie, too. No wonder she was having nightmares. Tina felt bad for the little girl and her father. She was curious, too. “Do you think Ryan did something to drive them away?”

Kate shook her head. “Just dumb luck. Or should I say misfortune.”

“Well, he seems to be doing okay. Maggie appears to be happy, too.” Except for the nightmares.

“Maybe, but a little girl needs a mother. As you well know.”

Tina did. All her life she'd longed for a mother. “I'm sure Ryan can have his pick of women.”

“You know…” Her friend narrowed her eyes a fraction. “You could go out with him while you're here. Just to give yourself a night out.”

Tina wouldn't have minded. But Ryan was G. G.' s neighbor, and going out now could be awkward later. Besides, he didn't exactly seem attracted.

She regarded her friend with a frank look. “I don't think he's interested.”

By Saturday, Tina and G. G. had settled into a routine that was dominated by G. G.' s needs and wants. And her pain, which made her angry and short-tempered. Every weekday began the same way—eat breakfast, snap Tina's head off and complain. Dress, snap and complain, multiple times, on the way to physical therapy. Tina used those forty-five minutes to run errands or drop in at the Mocha Java for a friendly ear and a quick dose of Kate's warmth. Then she brought G. G. home to eat lunch, nap, snap and complain, all the way through dinner and up until bedtime.

After a week of it, Tina was exhausted and her patience had worn thin. Between empathizing with G. G., biting her tongue to keep from lashing back and dealing with all the household chores, it was impossible to devote any time to her job except after G. G. went to bed at night. Tina was barely handling her workload long-distance, let alone developing a knock-your-socks-off idea for the Captain's Catch chain.

Now, having finished lunch, G. G. was settled in her captain's chair, which she claimed was the only comfortable seat in the house. “I need a pain pill,” she said, her tone thin and sharp.

Though she'd spurned the pills only a few days ago, it felt as if it had been weeks. G. G.' s pain seemed to be worsening, when it should have been diminishing, and since the potluck she'd taken to downing her painkillers regularly.

From the adjacent sofa, Tina checked her watch. “It's not time yet, not for another hour.”

She didn't like G. G.' s sallow color or the dullness of her eyes. Side effects of the pills or something else? Concerned, she frowned. “Maybe I should call Dr. Dove.” One of the two physicians, both family practitioners, on the island.

“Don't you dare bother him! You know how busy he is on Saturdays. Besides, I don't need a doctor, I need another pain pill.”

“All right, I won't call. But you have to wait an hour.”

“You are such a taskmaster,” G. G. groused. An instant later, however, she attempted a smile. “But that's why you're the success you are today.”

The way things were going lately, Tina didn't feel successful. She felt frustrated and worried about her work. She wished she were in Seattle, and at the same time she dreaded going back. If that wasn't confusing enough, she felt guilty either way. She glanced at G. G. “Do you feel like taking a nap?”

“No, I do not.”

“Well, you can't just sit here. You need something to distract you from the pain. Would you like to listen to
La Bohème?
” Her all-time favorite opera. “While you listen, you can work on that sweater you're knitting. Won't that be nice?”

For her suggestion, she earned a sour look. “Quit patronizing me. I don't want music, and I don't feel like knitting. If I can't have my pill, I'll have some tea. I'm cold, and the hot liquid will warm me up. But first, please open the drapes so I can look out. I can't stand the gloom.”

Fifteen minutes ago, she'd ordered them drawn. Tina suppressed a sigh and opened them. Weak autumn sunlight spilled into the room. The morning had been shrouded in fog, but at some point the sun had burned through. Halo Island had been named for the fog that hovered over the water, resembling a halo before it vanished, and both Tina and G. G. were used to this kind of weather.

“That's much better.” G. G. grimaced as she shifted ever so slightly in her chair.

Alarmed all over again, Tina grabbed the two-tone green afghan that lay across the sofa back. “Why don't you put this on your legs?”

“What for? I'm not cold.”

“But you said…”

“Stop fussing over me, Tina. Just bring the TV tray over here, and make me some tea.”

As Tina filled a mug with water and heated it in the microwave, her thoughts turned to Ryan and Maggie, whom she hadn't seen in days—if you didn't count peering through the crack in the drapes when the school bus stopped twice a day. Staring out the kitchen window into G. G.' s big backyard, Tina wondered how they felt about the damp cold, and why Ryan's fiancée and his nanny had left him and dear, sweet little Maggie.

The trees had shed many of their leaves, and the yard needed raking. If she had time later today, she'd go out there and…

A knock at the door put an end to her musing.

“Answer the door, Tina,” G. G. hollered.

I will, if you'll give me half a chance.
“That's probably one of the neighbors, stopping by with a casserole or a pie,” Tina said in her brightest voice as she returned to the living room. Thanks to their generosity, she had yet to cook dinner.

She opened the door to find Maggie on the stoop.

Bundled in a parka, scarf and mittens, the five-year-old grinned up at her. “Hi.”

Tina returned the smile. “Well, hello there.”

Maggie poked her head through the door. “Hi, G. G. Can I come in?”

G. G. brightened considerably. “Of course. I haven't seen you since the potluck, and I'm so glad you're here. Why don't you give your coat and mittens to Tina and she'll hang them up? Then drag the ottoman over and tell me what you've been doing. Tina, will you make cocoa and pull those snickerdoodles out of the cupboard? And bring me my tea.”

Heartened by G. G.' s more positive tone, Tina bustled into the kitchen. When she returned with the treats, Maggie was chattering away, her words lighting a smile on G. G.' s face. Tina set the tea and two cookies on the TV tray. She set Maggie's cocoa and a whole plate of cookies on the ottoman.

Kneeling, the little girl took a generous sip of cocoa. Wearing a chocolate moustache, she bit into a cookie and made a sound of sheer pleasure. Then she swiveled her head toward Tina.

“Want a cookie?”

“I do, thank you.”

“Only one week 'til Sam's birthday party!”

Tina had never seen anyone bounce on her knees, but Maggie seemed quite good at it. While they ate, the small girl issued a steady stream of conversation, pausing only to swallow or sip her cocoa.

“Have you bought Sam's gift?” G. G. asked.

“Daddy says we'll get it on Monday, 'cause it's Veterans Day and I don't have school. His bank is closed, too.”

“That sounds fun,” G. G. said. “Tina and I are also invited to the party.”

“You are?” Maggie threw out her arms, as if to hug the entire room. “Goody!”

Tina laughed. “Someone in this room likes birthday parties.”

“Me! Me!” Midbounce, Maggie angled her head in Tina's direction. “Why don't you live with G. G. forever?”

“Because I have my own apartment and a job in Seattle. After Thanksgiving, I'll be going back.”

“Oh.” Maggie went silent, but only for a moment. “We cleaned the house today. I got to sweep the kitchen floor and empty my wastebasket. And separate the dark clothes from the light in the laundry. Sometimes our laundry stinks.” She held her nose. “Then we cleaned Eggwhite's cage. That's our hamster, and I love her soooo much. Do you want to come over and play with her on Monday, Tina?”

For some reason seeing the inside of the house where Ryan and Maggie lived interested Tina. Telling herself she just wanted to find out whether they'd painted over Mrs. Booker's dingy pink walls, she nodded. “If your daddy doesn't mind, that'd be fun.”

“I don't think he will. He's drivin' me bats,” she said, sounding so adult that Tina smiled and G. G. chuckled—only to end up wincing with pain a moment later.

“Is that right?” G. G. said. “How so?”

“After we cleaned, I was tired. But Daddy wanted to play. We played with my dollhouse. Then we did puzzles. We played catch with my Nerf ball. Then Daddy read from my Amelia Bedelia chapter book.”

“All that? My goodness.” G. G. shook her head. “That sounds wonderful.”

Instead of agreeing, Maggie heaved a sigh, leaned her elbow on the ottoman and rested her cheek on her fist. “Daddy
always
wants to play with me. He doesn't have anybody else to play with.”

She looked so forlorn—and so adorable. Tina bit back a smile. “I think maybe you should be grateful. My father worked long hours. We didn't get much time together.”

“My daddy used to work all the time. But then we moved here, and now he doesn't.” She sat down on the rug, crossing her legs Indian style. “Sometimes I want to play with Sam and Gina, but I'm scared that if I do, he'll be sad.”

Tina understood, because she had felt just as responsible for her own father's happiness. Apparently Maggie was headed down the same road. Tina felt for the little girl.

G. G. murmured her understanding. “I'm sure he doesn't know how you feel, honey. You should talk to him.”

“No.” Maggie shook her head. “My daddy needs me.” G. G.' s expression was weighted with concern. “You're a very special little girl, and he's so lucky to have you.”

True, but Tina was sure he'd be upset if he knew Maggie was staying away from her friends so that her daddy wouldn't be lonely. Someone ought to tell him. She made up her mind to do that herself—today. The thought of seeing Ryan made her happier than it should have.

“Does he know you're here?” she asked.

Looking guilty, Maggie shook her head. “He said I could play outside.”

“Better call him, so he doesn't worry.” G. G. nodded at the phone on the end table.

“Do you know your phone number?” Tina asked.

The little girl scrambled up and shot her an incredulous look. “Of course I do.” She moved to the phone, dialed and then listened. “Hi, Daddy. I'm at G. G.' s.”

“Ask him if he wants to come for dinner,” G. G. said.

What?
Wondering what she was up to, Tina eyed her. Suddenly busy with her tea bag, G. G. refused to look up.

Actually, dinner wasn't a bad idea. It would give Tina the chance to tell Ryan what Maggie had said—provided they could talk out of his daughter's earshot. And maybe she'd also gain some insight into why he was alone.

She wouldn't think about her attraction to him or anything else.

“Please?” Maggie pleaded into the receiver. With a stricken look she hung her head. “Daddy says it's too much trouble. He says no, thank you.”

“Give me that phone.” G. G. held out her hand. “It's no extra work at all,” she told Ryan. “We have a lovely chicken casserole, courtesy of Linda Sewell, so there isn't much to do. Tina doesn't mind making a bigger salad or setting the table for two more people, do you, dear?”

Tina shook her head.

“She says it's fine,” G. G. said. “Why don't you come at six-thirty. Yes, we'd love another pan of those brownies. Yes, I'll tell her.”

When she hung up, her face was pale and pinched. “Your dad says to come home soon for a nap.”

“But I'm not tired. Can I stay a teensy while longer? Pretty please, with raisins and brown sugar?”

Torn between concern for G. G. and wanting to spend a little more time with Maggie, Tina fiddled with the spikes in her hair. “G. G.' s tired, Maggie. Maybe you should go home now.”

“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine after I take my pain pill and lie down. Just help me to the bathroom first.”

“While you rest, I'll rake the backyard,” Tina said.

“Can I help?”

Maggie's round eyes and eager expression were hard to resist. Tina nodded. “For a little while. Why not?”

T
HE RAKE HANDLE
was nearly a foot taller than Maggie, yet she managed to gather a small load of leaves. As she carried them to the pile Tina had started to make, they fluttered away until only a few that had caught on the rake tines remained. Maggie didn't seem to notice. She shook the rake clean, then glanced anxiously at Tina.

The afternoon temperature had climbed to a balmy fifty, and the sun and fresh air felt good. Tina smiled. “You did great.”

Maggie beamed. “Daddy says I'm the best helper ever.”

“I have to agree.” One of Maggie's pigtails was coming down, and strands of hair kept getting in her eyes. Tina beckoned her close. “Let me fix your hair.”

The little girl trotted over. Holding still, she let Tina finger comb her hair and refasten the pigtail.

“Your hair smells good,” Tina said, sniffing. “Is that cherry shampoo?”

“Uh-huh. Can I smell yours?” Tina bent down and Maggie sniffed. “Coconut.”

“That's right.”

“This is bunches more fun than playing with Daddy.”

“How so?”

“'Cause we're both girls.”

“That we are.”

With her own rake, Tina swept the remaining leaves into the pile. It was time to scoop them into black plastic trash bags, then put the rakes away until the rest of the leaves fell. But not just yet.

A crazy idea grabbed her. “When I was your age one of my favorite fall activities was jumping in leaves just like these,” she said. “Have you ever done that?”