All I Want for Christmas Is You (16 page)

She must have slept like a rock, because she hadn't heard any commotion at all after her head hit the pillow.

After opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass, she poured herself some orange juice and leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking and listening to the quiet. Many times she longed for a morning to sleep, a quiet moment to herself. But now that she had it, she wasn't so sure she liked it at all.

She finished her juice, put the glass in the sink and stopped short, expecting to see a mountain of pots and pans and bowls from yesterday still sitting there, waiting to be cleaned. There was nothing. Kyle had done the dishes? As if needing proof, she opened cabinets and drawers to find the missing items put back in place. "Huh. Kyle did the dishes," she muttered. Although nothing was put back in exactly the right place, they were indeed washed, dried and put away. Tucked behind the gleaming chrome faucet was a folded piece of paper with her name scribbled in the middle.

She read the note.

Went to pick up Kristen and a few things from the market. Take advantage of the quiet and go back to bed. We'll be back before lunch.

She folded the note and sat down at the kitchen table. Seven-thirty and he was already up and out the door. Seven-thirty in the morning and alone, and she had no idea what to do with herself.

* * *

It was quarter to ten when Kyle and Kristen finally made it back from the market. He opened the door to Lauren's bedroom and peered in. Her eyes were closed and her hair mussed as she lay on the pillow, still sleeping soundly. Hopefully she'd have more energy when she woke up so they could decorate the tree.

He began to close the door and cringed when he heard the hinges squeak. Peering through the crack, he saw that Lauren hadn't stirred and he shut the door.

"What does this say, Kyle?" Kristen asked, straining with the weight of a five pound bag of flour in her arms.

"Do you recognize any of the letters?" he tossed back at her.

"It starts with a big F. Is it the flour?"

"Yep." He'd searched Lauren's cabinets last night and found the cupboards bare of any ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. Armed with his mother's cookie recipe and a list of ingredients and instructions, he and Kristen hit the supermarket first thing after breakfast.

Kristen pulled a bottle out of the brown paper bag. "What's this syrupy thing?"

"Molasses," Kyle told her.

"Do we need it for the cookies?"

"Yeah, but first we need a bowl."

Kristen jumped down from the kitchen chair she'd been standing on and opened the cabinet next to the stove. After a short inspection, she pulled out a small plastic bowl. "Is this going to be big enough?"

Kyle crinkled his nose. "I don't know about you but I want to eat some of these cookies, not just put them on the tree. We need a real big bowl."

Kristen look puzzled, as if she were thinking of where she could find a bowl big enough. Kyle took the bowl from her and put it back in cabinet. Crouching down to her level, he began pulling pots and pans out of the cabinet Kristen had just searched. "How about this one?" he said, holding up a large stock pot for her view.

"That's the pan Mommy uses to make spaghetti."

"Works just as good for cookies. Do you think it'll be big enough?"

Kristen smiled and nodded.

"Okay, hop on board. We're going to make some cookies."

Kyle read the ingredients out loud to Kristen as she sat on the edge of the table, her feet dangling down to the chair. "Preheat oven to 350 degrees." He looked at her over the top of his recipe card and added, "I'll do that because you're too little. Do you know where your mom keeps the mixer?"

Kristen lifted her shoulders and let them fall, before returning a blank look.

"Have you ever seen her use a mixer?"

She shook her head. "What's a mixer?"

He chuckled. "Not quite sure myself. Maybe we don't really need one. What about measuring spoons?"

Her face registered a puzzled expression.

"We'll use something from the utensil drawer. Not a problem." He positioned the bowl in front of him and read the recipe card again.

"Kyle, have you ever done this before?"

"Sure," he fibbed. "Piece a cake. We just need to dump all these ingredients into the bowl and mix them. We can do that."

He tore the seal on the flour bag and a cloud of white dust puffed in his face.

Kristen giggled. "You have white eyebrows!"

Kyle swiped the dust away with his palm and focused on the recipe card. "Two and a quarter cups of sifted flour. I wonder what you sift it through," he muttered, to himself mostly. "Half a cup of shortening. We do need measuring cups."

Kristen jumped down from the table again and pointed to a cabinet above the sink. "There's some stuff up there."

Kyle opened the cabinet and found the measuring cups and other baking supplies he hadn't found the night before. They made a pretty good team. He measured the ingredients and she poured them in the bowl. They both took turns stirring. Each had their share of diggings from the bowl.

* * *

Lauren sat up in bed, pulled her knees to her chest and listened to the laughter spilling in from the kitchen. The gabbing and giggling had pulled her from a deep slumber. The bass tone of Kyle's voice juxtaposed with the smooth, high pitch of Kristen's was stilling. What a wonderful sound, she thought.

"Where are the cookie cutters?" she heard Kyle ask.

"We don't use those. We use this cup." Kristen's response brought a smile to Lauren's lips. It had been ages since they'd made cookies, but Kristen still remembered that they always used a special plastic cup with Mickey Mouse on it as a cookie cutter. She had been guiding Kyle around the kitchen for the better part of the fifteen minutes Lauren had been awake. Lauren had no doubt which one of them was really in charge of the cookie project.

"Okay, scooter. Time for the cookie sheet," Kyle said.

Lauren heard a clunk on the linoleum floor, followed by a heavy clank on the table.

As she listened to the easy conversation between Kyle and Kristen, she felt a tear roll down her cheek. They seemed so comfortable together, just like father and daughter.

Memories of her own childhood crept into her mind. Sure her father had never baked cookies with her. He'd left that sort of quality time for her mother. But there were many other wonderful memories that came to mind. Memories that she had forced aside years ago, still did when it hurt too much.

Now all those memories forged to the surface as she listened to the easy interaction between Kyle and Kristen.

Kyle had a natural talent for charming women of any age. He'd succeeded in charming his way into her heart, despite her every attempt to keep him at bay. Now he was charming his way into Kristen's life.

She sighed. She wasn't so sure she liked the idea of that. If it was just her heart, well hell, she'd have nothing to lose. She could take care of herself when the inevitable happened.

And it would happen. Kyle would leave. Because men always left when things got too rough, didn't they? Loving Kyle would be the easiest, most natural thing to do. But his leaving would tear the very fabric of her heart.

Kristen was too vulnerable. Her need for a father figure, a need that Lauren had ignored, was evident in the way she interacted with Kyle. She wanted so much to have a daddy and Kyle's presence proved to be ample replacement for what her life lacked. But what would happen when he was gone? How would Kristen cope with that loss?

She threw her blankets aside and reached for the robe at the foot of her bed, slipping into it as she walked to the door. Opening the door an inch, she peered through the narrow crack at the two bakers diligently working in the kitchen.

"It's too sticky. You need more flour," she heard Kristen instruct.

Kyle tossed some flour on the table, half of which landed on the floor, the rest created a cloud of white dust. "Ooops!"

"You missed the dough." Kristen giggled. "Mommy's going to be mad."

"We'll sweep up before she's even awake. She won't ever know."

"Mommy won't know what?" Lauren opened the bedroom door and stood in the doorway, watching as the two bakers hid the contraband. Kyle twisted and hid the bowl behind his back. Kristen scurried to grab the wooden spoon and hide that behind her back. Lauren sucked in her cheeks but couldn't help but laugh. She was sure there was more flour on the two of them, and the floor, than mixed in the dough. They were positively covered.

"You're feeling better?" Kyle asked, trying to appear casual.

"The sleep did some good." She perused the disaster in her kitchen. In the short time she'd slept, Kyle and Kristen had managed to turn it upside down.

As if reading her reaction to the mess, Kyle shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. "This was sort of a surprise."

"Yeah," Kristen added, smiling as if she were quite pleased with herself for all her effort.

Lifting her eyebrows, Lauren replied, "Believe me, it is." She walked back a step and thumbed toward the bathroom. "I think I'll just take a shower if you don't mind. Let you finish up with your, ah, surprise."

After collecting a pair of her favorite blue jeans, a red turtle-neck shirt and clean underwear, she withdrew to the sanctity of the bathroom. She discarded her robe and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. With her hand on the faucet, she stopped short of turning on the water. The sound of laughter coming in from the other room brought an ache to her heart.

Kyle would be such a wonderful father. He was kind and gentle and patient. And loving. Everything a child needed to feel safe and secure and loved.

Everything she needed, too, she couldn't deny.

She turned the faucet and dipped her hand under the stream of water until it was warm. When it was, she stepped into the shower and let the heat do its magic.

Thoughts of Kyle invaded her mind. If she let herself think about it, she pictured herself with a man like Kyle. Someone who'd help her bear the load, make her feel safe and secure, keep her warm at night.

But what was she doing? That wasn't going to happen. Long ago she'd conditioned herself to thinking that there wouldn't be another man in her life. Not while Kristen was young and needed so much of her time and attention.

In the short time since she'd been working at the Woodlawn Industries, she'd heard many young women talk about the men in their lives. There were some good times, some bad, but there always seemed to be the inevitable heartache that followed. She'd offered her shoulder to cry on, then listened for weeks, endlessly about how they'd never go through that again, only to have one of them come in Monday morning with news of a new man.

Sure, she'd listened to the talk and even envied a few that spoke of the true love they shared. But it always ended up the same. Like Jimmy, and like her father, the men would always leave.

And now Kyle. How was she going to feel when he walked away? She hated to admit it, but he'd opened up her heart and claimed a piece of it for himself. She cared for him and with those feelings came an incredible fear of loss.

Men didn't stick around once the pleasure had been spent. They didn't stay when the hard times hit. She'd learned that the hard way. With Kyle, she wanted to believe different. But how could she?

Twenty minutes later, she powdered herself, slipped into her clothes and decided to brave entering the kitchen.

"Is there any room in here for me?" she asked.

She was greeted with two wide grins inviting her to join them. It may be an illusion, she thought as she picked up the rolling pin, but the moment was too precious to ignore.

And Lauren wasn't quite ready to give it up. It had been so long since she had anything resembling family and Kyle had brought that into her life again. And introduced it to Kristen. Just for a little while, she wanted to savor the warmth he’d brought to their lives.