Do You Believe in Santa? (20 page)

And he dragged her from the room. Into a closet. Where he kissed her until she could barely breathe.

“Jake!” Her giggle was muffled by the coats.

“Having a good time?” He rested his forehead on top of her head. In the light from the cracked-open closet door, she couldn't read his expression, but his voice sounded serious.

“I am. I just can't keep track of everybody.”

“Don't try.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know the adults, but I've known them all my life. I still have trouble with the kids, because they grow every year. And most of them will be gone by bedtime.”

He opened the door and slipped out. Mandy emerged behind him, smoothing her hair. It didn't look as though anyone had seen them.

Mandy rejoined the kitchen crew as they laid the food out on a long table in the formal dining room. Before the meal started, a blond woman arrived with a light-haired, brown-eyed girl who barreled through the crowd straight to Jake.

“Uncle Jake!”

He lifted her in his arms, and the smile on his face was warm and bright. “Hey, Emmy.”

So this was Emily. As Jake carried her back to her mother and set her down, Mandy saw she was wearing the pinecone necklace. Jake looked up, his eyes finding Mandy in the crowd. She hurried over for the introductions.

“Mandy, this is Susan, my brother's wife.” He nodded at the pretty blonde. “And this is Emily. Emily, this is Mandy, the lady who sold me the necklace.”

Emily smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. Thank your Uncle Jake.” Smiling, Mandy put her hands on her knees as she bent closer to Emily's level. “How old are you, sweetie?”

“Seven. I'll be eight in January. I'm in second grade.”

“Really? I would have said you were a third-grader.”

“People say I'm tall. My daddy's tall.”

Mandy straightened, belatedly greeting the girl's mother. “Hi, Susan. It's nice to meet you.”

Susan smiled, a hint of fatigue shadowing her eyes. “Nice to meet you, too. So you're here from California?”

Mandy nodded, stepping back when Jake's parents came through the crowd to greet the late arrivals. Pam Wyndham hugged Susan. “You're just in time for dinner.”

“We would have been here sooner, but I had to work. I picked these up on the way.” Apologetically, Susan held out a plastic grocery bag.

Ben Wyndham took the bag and peered inside. “Oh, you got the little red velvet cupcakes. Those are mine.”

“Later,” Mrs. Wyndham said firmly, and spirited the bag away to the kitchen.

“Susan's an RN,” Jake murmured in her ear. “She works some really terrible hours. And my brother's deployed overseas. This is the first Christmas he hasn't been home.”

Susan's faintly weary look made a lot of sense.

“Okay, everyone,” Jake's father said, and Mandy was surprised how far his voice carried. “Time to pray for the meal.”

Very few people were anywhere near the table, but she realized the dining table only would have held about half of them anyway. Everyone bowed his or her head where he or she stood or sat. Mandy tried to remember if she'd ever said grace as a family, and a lump formed in her throat. When the group said “Amen,” she raised her eyes and turned to Jake.

And his cell phone went off. “Be right back,” he said.

This time Mandy was literally adrift in a sea of people as they lined up for the table in a patient sort of disorder. Wait for Jake or help herself? Susan walked up to join her.

“It's not very formal,” she said. “Everyone kind of grabs a seat where they can.”

“You'd need at least two tables to do it any other way,” Mandy said.

Emily quietly joined them as they worked their way toward the table. “Where's Uncle Jake?”

“His phone rang,” Mandy said. “He'll be back.”

She and Susan found a spot in the breakfast nook with Emily, one of the quieter places in the house. Mandy realized she'd spent the last hour and a half surrounded by a slowly building dull roar. The commotion was pleasant in its way, but the relative calm was a nice break.

While they ate, Emily regaled Mandy with questions about Tall Pine and the Christmas store. It was fifteen minutes before Jake rejoined them. He seemed preoccupied. That seemed to be happening a lot today.

 

 

After the meal, Jake excused himself to make another phone call. He returned to find Mandy in the kitchen again, scraping plates and putting away food with Susan, Roberta and his Aunt Liz. Somehow they'd persuaded his mother she deserved a break and actually gotten her to take one. Emily sat in the breakfast nook, doing her best to absorb the girl talk. Jake took the opportunity to let the jet lag have its way and wandered into the living room to settle on the floor near the fireplace. His dad occupied his favorite spot in the armchair nearby.

Around them, relatives chattered. The fire was warm and relaxing. All was right with the world. Almost.

“You haven't asked me what I think.”

Jake turned to regard his father lazily. “Do I need to?”

“No.” His father smiled slowly. “She's terrific.”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Jake closed his eyes, letting the heat of the fire soak into him.

“How bad is it?”

“What?”

Ben Wyndham regarded Jake with exaggerated patience. “Whatever's had you on and off the phone all day.”

Jake sighed. “It's the difference between whether I can stay with Mandy in Tall Pine, or get dragged off to Florida. The home office isn't being flexible about it.”

“So take her to Florida.”

He couldn't imagine asking Mandy to leave Tall Pine. “I need a better plan than that.”

“You always had a plan. I remember you making lists before you even got out of high school.”

Jake grinned weakly. “And I'm still a million bucks shy of being a millionaire.”

“We watched it on Thanksgiving.” Jake grinned. “When her boss didn't want to watch
Ghost.”

“You sound like a match made in heaven.”

Chapter 20

“Tell me again,” Mandy asked. “Why don't you have Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve, or Christmas Day?”

“We used to,” Mrs. Wyndham said. “But the families kept getting bigger, and everyone wanted to spend Christmas at home with their kids. So we made it a night earlier.”

“Got it.” Mandy smiled. “The night before the night before Christmas.”

Wedged between Mandy and Susan in the breakfast nook, Emily giggled. “Or Christmas Eve Eve.”

“Christmas Eve Eve.” Mandy nodded approval. “I like that.”

“We'll be here for both nights this year,” Susan said. “Ready to stay in your daddy's old bedroom with me tonight?”

It was early evening, and the hubbub was starting to die down as people settled around the house with cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Jake was on the phone, or e-mailing, somewhere. How much business was there to do two days before Christmas?

Emily said, “Last year I stayed in the guest room.”

“Yes, because Daddy and I were both in his old room,” Susan said patiently. “This year Mandy's in the guest room.”

“Could I stay in the guest room with Mandy tonight?”

Susan chuckled. “The way you kick and thrash around, I think Mandy would end up on the floor.”

Mandy grinned. It sounded as if Susan had helped her dodge a bullet, but Emily's request touched her. “Anyway, we're still next-door neighbors.”

“I've thought about getting a different comforter for that guest room,” Jake's mother said. “The blue plaid . . .”

The conversation went on, inconsequential and homey. The voices around her receded to a low hum. Mandy felt her head bob forward and snapped it up.

Emily giggled again. “Mandy's falling asleep.”

She glanced at the kitchen clock. “That's pretty sad. It's only three o'clock back home.”

“Flying does that to you,” Mrs. Wyndham said. “I've seen Jake fall asleep at the dinner table.”

Maybe that was what had happened to him this time. He could have collapsed in a heap on a couch or chair in some other room.

“You're welcome to lie down if you want to,” Mrs. Wyndham said. “I should warn you, when Jake shows up again, he's likely to get up a vicious card game.”

Mandy frowned. “For this many people?”

“Well, not everybody plays. But I've seen us get nine or ten people around the dining table for a game of Hearts. Or Pit.”

“Pit?”

“It's loud and obnoxious,” Roberta said. “It'll keep you awake for sure.”

Beside her, Mandy felt Emily shifting as she swung her leg back and forth under the bench seat. She'd been sitting still for a long time, trying to blend with the adult women. As far as Mandy could discern, there were about half a dozen cousins spread around the house, but the closest to Emily's age was about ten. Some were in their early teens. Emily was the odd one out.

“You know what?” Mandy said. “I haven't gotten a good look at the Christmas tree yet. You want to show it to me, Emily?”

The girl was on her feet in a flash.

The Wyndhams' tree was on display in a bay window at the front of the house. The lights had been turned off when Jake and Mandy got in last night, but now its large multicolored bulbs shone warmly. An impressive number of packages were clustered under the tree, but it was the ornaments that captivated Mandy. Some of them had the look of pieces that had been around for a couple of generations: old-fashioned toy soldiers, candy canes and red hearts with some of their paint worn away. And she recognized several of the keepsake ornaments they'd carried at The North Pole over the years.

“We sold this one at my store a few years ago,” she told Emily, pointing at a reindeer carrying a Christmas tree. “And this one.” It was one of the eleven pipers piping, part of a “Twelve Days of Christmas” series.

“This one's my favorite.” Emily pointed to a blown-glass Santa Claus.

“That is a nice one,” Mandy agreed.

She studied Emily's profile in the muted glow of the Christmas lights. Her eyes were round, and Mandy guessed she was still a believer. Why did anyone have to grow out of it?

An oddly shaped red felt ornament with a few glued-on sequins caught her eye. Homemade, obviously. Mandy tried to decide if it was meant to be a stocking or a heart. She chose her words with care, in case Emily had made it. “What's this one?”

“A family argument.” Jake's voice resonated behind them, startling Mandy and at the same time sending a warmth to her toes. She could tell from the way he sounded that he was
here
this time—not just in the room. His voice didn't have that preoccupied, half-present tone she'd heard so often today.

“My brother Tony swears that I made it,” Jake went on. “I say it was him. Ugliest thing I've ever seen.”

“But what's it supposed to be?”

“Until the artist claims ownership, I guess we'll never know.” He kissed the top of her head.

“What've you been up to?” She tried to make her tone casual.

“Looking for people to play cards with. Are you game?”

“Sure, if you don't mind teaching me. My mom and I used to play gin, but that's more of a two-person game.” She took Emily's hand. “And first, I think I need some hot chocolate to keep me going. Do you want a cup?”

Emily nodded eagerly, and they all headed for the kitchen.

 

 

“Jake's losing his touch,” Roberta gloated as she won another hand.

“I'm taking pity on you,” Jake returned, but it sounded like a stock answer.

Mandy watched as he picked up the next hand and fanned out his cards. His studious frown said he was concentrating on something, but it didn't seem to be the game.

Not that she knew enough about the game to judge. Mandy had barely started to catch on to the eccentric rules of Hearts. The idea was to accumulate as few points as possible, and to avoid having hearts in your hand, unless of course you decided to go for
all
the hearts. The competition around the table was fierce, but the outcome clearly wasn't as important as the trash-talking.

“Besides,” Jake said, scowling at his cards, “somebody needs to deal me a decent hand.” He directed a glare across the table at the dealer, his Aunt Anne.

“I hear excuses,” a cousin—was it Mike?—said.

“And,”
Jake went on, as if to drown him out, “my good luck charm deserted me.”

He directed a glance across the table, and this time the glimmer in his eye looked genuine.

Emily had pulled up a chair to sandwich herself between her mother and Mandy again, kibitzing on both of their hands. “I'm rooting for the girls,” she said.

“Can't argue with that,” Susan said.

“Traitor,” Jake said.

While Jake made himself the target of the competing cousins, uncles and aunts, the one who was quietly making a killing was Jake's father. At the end of each hand they played, Ben Wyndham's score tended to be the lowest, when he was caught with any points at all. This older version of Jake fascinated Mandy, though she still wasn't sure what he thought of her. Both men had that keen, assessing way of looking at things, but Jake was much easier to read.

She'd thought so, anyway. The image she'd had of Jake kept shifting in and out of focus. She reminded herself again not to read too much into it. This was an entirely different setting, with a crowd of people and a lot of distractions. But he seemed strangely preoccupied, even around his own family.

The preteens had gotten hold of a video game system, and occasional roars came from the living room a few feet away.

When Emily started leaning on her mother's shoulder, Susan put an arm around her. “I think it's time to get you to bed,” she said.

Emily surprised Mandy by giving her the first good-night hug when she made the rounds of the table before Susan took her upstairs to tuck her in.

Before the next hand could start, Mandy got up to freshen her hot chocolate. Learning her way around Pam Wyndham's kitchen hadn't taken long. More to the point, she felt welcome to do it. She started to reach for another instant cocoa packet from the basket on the counter, changed her mind, and poured a cup of coffee from the waiting carafe instead.

“Go easy on that,” Jake said. “You don't want to bounce off the walls when it's time to go to sleep.”

“I don't think that's possible.”

“You'd be surprised at the tricks your system can play on you.” He watched her as she poured. “I take it you're not ready to surrender on cards yet.”

“Nope.” She stirred in cream and sugar. “I'm not as bloodthirsty as the rest of you yet, but wait till I get the hang of it.”

It was amateur trash talk, and it didn't sound convincing to her own ears. She picked up her cup with both hands and took a cautious sip to sample it without looking at Jake.

Is everything all right?
she wanted to ask. Maybe things wouldn't feel so strange if she hadn't run across a velvet box in his pocket, a box she apparently wasn't supposed to know about. All her qualms could be the result of some pocket lint and an overactive imagination.

“You'll make a great mom,” he said.

She turned toward him. “I will?” Mandy's throat burned unexpectedly, and it wasn't from the coffee she'd just sampled.

He wore that serious look again, brown eyes searching, that look she could feel to the tips of her toes. It was the expression she'd seen at Rockefeller Center last night. “You're terrific with Emily,” he said.

“She's really sweet.”

“It's good for her having you here. Susan has so much on her plate. She's working full time, and this is the first time Emily hasn't had her dad home at Christmas.”

“I know how that feels.”

Jake didn't reply. He brought a hand up to draw a slow line along the bottom of Mandy's jaw with one finger as he quietly studied her. She was aware of boisterous chatter from the next room, just a few steps away, but in here, the kitchen felt preternaturally quiet. Like the eye of the hurricane.

Mandy held his gaze, her heart thrumming.

Was this it? Right here, in the kitchen, with a cluster of relatives in the next room?

He kissed her. No mean feat, because she'd forgotten to set down her coffee cup. And she didn't dare try to set it down now, because the kiss was so soft, so slow, so thorough, she had no idea where the counter was. All she could do was close her eyes, try to remember she was holding a cup, and kiss him back with everything she had.

He drew away slowly. Mandy opened her eyes even more slowly.

Jake looked down at her, his eyes heavy, his voice husky. “We'd better get back to the battle.”

Somehow, after the card game, Jake found himself surrounded by a gaggle of females in the breakfast nook. Beside him, Mandy held yet another cup of coffee, her other hand holding his under the table.

He didn't bother to tell her that when he brewed the last pot of coffee, he'd switched to decaf when she wasn't looking. If she wasn't careful she'd be staring at the walls all night. He should have made her a pamphlet,
Jake's Guide to Jet Lag.
Although so far, she'd shown a high tolerance for caffeine. Even now, her eyelids looked heavy.

She sipped from her cup. “Sorry, Jake. You don't make coffee as well as your mother does.”

He smirked, but didn't come clean.

Across from them sat his mother, Susan and his Aunt Liz. His father had retired to the living room to sit in the armchair and pretend to harrumph at the kids still playing video games on the floor. Jake knew better. Bet a poker match between his dad and Winston Frazier would be a sight to behold.

“Is anyone going to cut those kids off the video games?” Susan asked.

“Their parents will be collecting them soon enough,” Jake's mother said.

The table settled into a contented silence, the kind that came after a day of frenetic activity and too much food.

“This is my favorite place in the house,” Mandy said.

Eyes turned toward her, and she looked self-conscious.

“I know what you mean,” Jake's mother said. “The kitchen table is always kind of a magnet for the women. And the men usually settle in the living room.”

This time eyes went toward Jake, who shrugged.

A moment later Mandy's head bobbed against his shoulder. She quickly jerked upright, finding the attention on her again. “I am
such
a wimp,” she admitted. “I'm sorry. I'd better go to bed.”