Mackinnon 03 - The Bonus Mom (11 page)

The cell peeled out a rap beat again. She said what he already knew. “You have to take the call.”

And he uncurled and stood up to do just that, but as he connected the call and pressed the speaker button, Pepper’s plaintive voice started up. “Dad. Lilly’s already asleep but not me. But she was worried, too. We just wanted to be sure Rosemary wasn’t mad at us.”

Rosemary had to smile, both at Whit walking naked across the room to dive for his cell phone—the firelight incredibly illuminating his tight little ass. And it was little, compared to those big brawny shoulders and muscular thighs. Sexy. Head to toe.

But even more, lovably, when he scraped a hand through his hair and talked to his daughter. “Rosemary was never mad at you. She liked it, that you were willing to talk about your mom with her.” He glanced back.

She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

He turned around, so he could look at her even as he talked to his daughter. “And yeah, she’s totally still on for the cooking thing tomorrow....”

She sent him another thumbs-up.

“So she wants you to come over around, say...” He waited.

She held up both hands, fingers splayed.

“Around ten o’clock, she says. So you’d better get to sleep, cookie. I’ll be home in two shakes.”

The instant he clicked off, he scowled and said, “I don’t want to be home in two shakes.”

She laughed, and draping the couch throw around her shoulders, started scooping up his clothes. He dressed. Unwillingly. Stopped to kiss her. And then return to scowling as he yanked on boots, and finally his jacket. Then kissed her again.

“So do I get to come over tomorrow or is it just the girls who get to come?”

“You can come over midafternoon. We need to do the baking stuff on our own. Unless...well...the only job we have open before midafternoon is washing dishes.”

“That’s just cruel,” he said.

“Uh-huh.” She opened the door, then wrapped the throw seriously tight around her. Outside, the night was black velvet, not a star or moon in sight—but toe-stinging cold. “Whit?”

“What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

His head shot up, and his eyes lost all that teasing silly nonsense. “So tell me.”

“I wanted to say it before.”

His expression changed, as if he were bracing for a hurt. She’d felt the same way when he’d started a conversation with those same words. Nothing good ever seemed to follow “I need to tell you something.”

She said softly, “I’m really, really glad we did this.”

He waited, as if assuming an ax was going to fall on his foot after that announcement.

But there was no ax. She smiled softly, bravely. “Before you go home...I just want you to know that this whole night was absolutely okay. It’s the Christmas season. Everything gets crazy emotional around the holiday—for you and the girls especially this year, because of Zoe. I never wanted to interfere with that. Never wanted any of you to think I wanted or could replace her.” He opened his mouth, but she pressed two fingers—two very cold fingers now—against his lips.

“Whit, I really wanted to be here for you. I loved having the chance to be here for you. But after the holiday, I know you three are going back to Charleston. And that’s fine. I don’t want you to worry even a second about tonight. This was all good.”

She lifted up, pressed a kiss on his lips—a fast, fast smooch—and then chuckled. “Go, would you? I need to close the door before I freeze to death.”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer—or a chance to think up some awkward reply. She just closed the door. Fast. Before he could see how hard it was to hold on to that soft smile.

She hustled to the warmth of the fire and crouched down to secure the screen for the night, feeling that she needed to lock up her emotions the same way. Whit had made her feel beautiful.... When she’d never felt beautiful before.

But after the holiday, she knew he would have trouble remembering her.

Every man she’d ever known seemed to find it all too easy to forget her.

Chapter Nine

T
he house was quiet as a cave when Whit woke up. He pulled on clothes as he glanced outside. The moon was still up, the landscape black and glistening and silent. A perfect Christmas Eve day was dawning.

There wasn’t a whisper coming from the loft—the girls were still clearly dead to the world. He measured coffee, put it on, did some token cleanups until the percolating finally finished.

He carried the mug to the tree, stared at the lopsided wonder they’d created. From the thrown cranberries to the loopy popcorn strands to the sequin slipper Pepper had donated for the top, it was the best tree he could remember.

Because of her.

Rosemary.

Heaven knew where she’d been hiding all that passion...but he’d never figured, at his age, to be blown away by making love. It was her. All her. She inspired his girls; she inspired him. That huge heart of hers seemed to have no limits. She had an endless capacity to give and understand, a magical intuition and perception about what others needed.

He thought about what she’d looked like, naked in the firelight.

He thought about her standing in the doorway, the couch throw covering her but her feet still bare, her legs, her eyes in that freezing night wind, telling him it was okay, she didn’t want or expect more from him.

She had the right to expect the moon and the stars from a man. She deserved the best of guys. She deserved to be cherished and appreciated. To be loved.

And he wanted to be the guy to love her. To be loved by her.

Only they’d barely made love before she was kicking him out.

“Hey, Dad.” Lilly, loudly yawning, ambled downstairs, wearing her lion floppy slippers and her Christmas jammies, her hair all atumble. “Is it time to go to Rosemary’s yet?”

“It’s not even eight, lovebug.”

“We’re gonna have a
great
day.” She yawned again. He lifted an arm, and she scooched next to his side, curling up the way she had since she was a little girl. “You’re bringing the ham to Rosemary’s house, right?”

“Right.”

“And the pop.”

“And the pop.”

“And the ice cream Christmas trees.”

“And the trees.”

“So we won’t have anything to do but love Christmas.”

“That’s the plan I heard,” Whit agreed. “I was told I couldn’t come over to her house today, though, until midafternoon. Unless I was willing to shut up and do dishes all morning.”

“We’re doing girl talk, Dad. You’d be bored anyway. Or you’d be holding your hands over your ears so you didn’t have to hear embarrassing stuff. Besides...don’t you want to get something for Rosemary for Christmas?”

He hesitated. “You’re right. I could pick up something this morning. Do you think it’d be a good idea if it was from all of us?”

Pepper showed up in the doorway. “I think Lilly and me should get her something that isn’t, like, a
thing.
We could put a present in an envelope. Like that we’ll do all the dishes tomorrow. Or we could vacuum or something. Or fold clothes. You know. Some dumb chore so she wouldn’t have to do it.”

Lilly considered that idea. “Yeah. That’s good. She’s not so much about stuff from stores. But still. We could write it on a piece of paper, and in an envelope, and then in a box, and then in a bigger box, and then wrap it up so she couldn’t guess what it was.”

“And Dad could get us some boxes and wrapping paper if he’s going out anyway.” Pepper elbowed her way to his right side, where she curled up next to him.

“I wasn’t planning a long shopping trip,” Whit said.

Lilly shot him a frown. “But you need to take your time, Dad. You need to get something neat for Rosemary.”

“Like what do you think is a good idea?”

“I don’t know. Just something special and nice and that’s a good surprise for her. Like that.”

Acid starting churning in his stomach. He wasn’t an anxiety-ridden kind of guy, never had been. It was just...well, he’d rather wrestle with a nest of rattlers than shop for a woman. Nothing he’d ever gotten Zoe had pleased her. No matter how hard he tried. And he’d tried. “Like what kind of nice?”

“Dad.” Pepper patted his shoulder. “Go to Greenville. Park near downtown. Then just walk. All the shops will be open. You’ll see something just right. You can do this.”

“Yeah. You can do this, Dad.” Lilly stepped up to reassure him, too. “Just take your cell phone. Call us if you get in trouble.”

That was a big help. He was already in trouble. Trouble that had nothing to do with his girls or buying a present.

It had to do with falling in love with a woman he’d only known for a few days. A woman who seemed quite sure he was suffering from holiday madness. A woman who had a secret regarding her ex-fiancé—a secret that put sadness in her eyes, a secret that led her to hiding out as a hermit. And a woman who was under the impression that he was still in mourning for Zoe.

A few more days with her. That’s all he had. All he and the girls had.

Whit could rack his brain from here to Poughkeepsie. But he had no idea how he could make all that come together in such a short time.

* * *

When Whit showed up to drop off the girls, he came to the door with them.

She greeted the crew with a big smile. “You want some coffee, Whit?” she asked, and it looked as if he was about to answer, but then he just stood there and looked at her.

And she looked back.

It happened again, just like last night. No one had ever made her feel beautiful—because she wasn’t. But Whit made her feel treasured that way.

And no one had ever made her feel unforgettable—because all her life, from parents to boyfriends to George, she’d apparently been easy to forget.

Whit was the only one who evoked entirely different emotions. It was the way he looked at her. The way her life seemed different, the way she felt differently, the way the whole world suddenly, softly hushed, when he was close.

For a few seconds, anyway.

“Dad. What’s wrong with you? You’re looking weird.”

“You’re not sick, are you? Because it’s Christmas Eve.”

“And you’re supposed to leave so we can bake stuff with Rosemary.”

“So you need to go, Dad.”

Whit fought to get a word in. To her. “I’m feeling extremely unwanted.”

He shouldn’t. She could have thrown herself at him right then and there. “Something tells me you’ll survive a few hours of peace and quiet.”

“
Go,
Dad,” Pepper said with an eleven-year-old’s complete lack of interest in his feelings.

“Yeah. We love you, Dad. But go.” Lilly swooped up to give him a kiss, then pelted into the living room.

Shoes tumbled near the doorway. Hot pink jackets hurled onto chairs. Scarves snaked en route to the kitchen. Whit shook his head. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“You’ll come back to save me, won’t you?”

“You know I will.”

She didn’t know any such thing. Growing up, she’d never expected to be saved. As an adult, she’d saved herself. She was no fragile princess, and she never wanted to be...but somehow Whit’s words sent a silver tingle up her spine.

Even her most fragile orchids found a way to survive in the wild. She never thought of herself as fragile...but she did think of herself as a survivor. She always had been.

Now, though, watching him drive off in his SUV, she didn’t feel so tough. She wasn’t sure if anything could be right after he was gone.

“Rosemary!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. And I hope you guys are ready to make a huge mess, because we’re about to take out the whole darn kitchen.”

“I’m
always
ready to make messes,” Pepper promised.

“The first part of this is just to make a plain old white cake. That’s easy enough...you two can take that on, right?”

“Yeah. We know how to do cakes. I do the measuring,” Lilly said, “and Pepper does the mixing. And we both get a beater to lick. And we usually fight over the bowl, but you can have the bowl this time.”

Rosemary chuckled. “I can see where your priorities are. Licking the batter is more important than the finished result.” She’d already gotten out bowls and pans and measuring devices. “I don’t know where this recipe came from. It just always seemed passed on in the family. We’ve been doing it so long I could probably do it in my sleep...but it’ll be a lot more fun with you two.”

It was. Licking the cake batter was all good. Then, when the cake came out and while it was still warm, both girls poked holes in the top of a cake with a fork. Rosemary mixed the cream of coconut with the condensed milk and poured it over the whole cake. “We’ll make the frosting in a little bit, but first the cake has to cool. So we’re moving on to the Christmas coffee cake.”

That recipe was more complicated, including butter and sugar and eggs and orange juice and vanilla and blueberry pie filling and cinnamon and a bunch of other magic ingredients. In no time, the counters were crammed with dripping measuring devices and spoons and various size bowls.

“Wow, Rosemary. You really can make a mess.”

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.”

The girls giggled.

“Hey, you two. Do you have some grandmas and grandpas? Where are they? Do you ever spend holidays with them?”

‘Well,” Pepper said, “on Mom’s side, she was an only child. That’s why she was spoiled, she was always telling us. And she liked being spoiled. Anyway, Grandfather died when I was just a kid.”

“I was just a kid, too,” Lilly reminded her, in the tone of the long-suffering.

“Anyway, we didn’t know him much. But Grandmother used to be with us all the time. She lived in Charleston, too. But something happened to her. We weren’t supposed to know, but Mom was on the phone all the time because there were so many calls about Grandma.”

“She walked downtown in Charleston without her clothes on in the middle of the night,” Pepper piped in. “And that was the end. She had to go to this place.”

“I heard Mom tell Dad that Grandmother was too young to have Alzheimer’s. But I guess some people get it younger. Anyway, we have to go see her every once in a while.” Lilly added honestly, “It’s not like we don’t love her. But she’s not like herself anymore. And the whole place is scary.”

“Scary how?” Rosemary asked.

“Well, she doesn’t know us. At all. Or Dad. Or anyone else. Like she was knitting this sweater, only it wasn’t a sweater. It just kept getting longer and longer until it was taller than Dad. She didn’t know.”

“And she’d start singing all of a sudden.”

“And she said the f-word. You have to understand, Grandmother would never, ever,
ever
say the f-word. Or use any other bad language. So it’s like she’s not really our grandmother anymore.”

“Dad said we have to visit her sometimes anyway. So we do,” Lilly said. “I’m just saying, we both get creeped out when we go there.” She raised suddenly stricken eyes. “Does that sound mean, Rosemary?”

“I think it sounds honest. You already know she can’t help what’s happening to her. It’s sad.” Rosemary aimed for a more cheerful note. “So how about your dad’s mom and dad?”

“Oh, they’re
awesome.
They just don’t live here. They live around Seattle. They fly to see us a couple times a year. And Dad lets us fly there a couple times of year. Gramps is cool. He has horses and everything, lets us ride whenever we want. And Gram does pet therapy stuff. Like she raises dogs and cats—and sometimes the horses—to help out kids. Not sick kids. More like kids in trouble with the law. Tough kids who are always in trouble. But...oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no. Rosemary, I’m
so
sorry!”

Rosemary saw the pan slipping. Lilly had just poured the pie filling on top of the batter. The whole messy recipe was almost done—but neither girl could stand still for long; they had too much energy. The pan slipped when Pepper darted toward the sink...and down it went, with a crash and a spatter, upside down on the kitchen floor.

To Rosemary’s shock, Pepper burst into tears...and Lilly looked ready to. Both lifted stricken faces to her. Both looked more upset than if they’d just lost a best friend.

“Good grief. What’s all this? It’s just a spill, you guys. So it’s a pain to clean up, but that’s all. It’s nothing to be upset about. Pepper...” She crouched on the floor where Pepper had sunk down. “Honey, there’s no reason to cry.”

“There is. I ruined it.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t suspect we’ll be able to eat it off the floor. But I’m pretty sure I’ve got the ingredients to make another one. Or we’ll make something else.”

“I still ruined Christmas Eve. I always ruin things. I was trying to do everything right. And now I broke the dish and made a mess and—”

“Honey, the glass dish is just a glass dish. Next time I’m there, I’ll get a new one at Walmart.”

Pepper hiccupped. “It’s not like your greatgrandma’s or something like that? Like an heirloom or like it cost a zillion dollars or couldn’t be replaced?”

Rosemary frowned, disbelieving Pepper’s tears and fears both. “Pepper. Lilly. To begin with, this is a cottage. It’s a place for people to put their feet up, relax, enjoy nature and life and people and family. There’s no dish or plate here that’s expensive. Never will be.”

“You’re positive?” Pepper lifted her face for a second time to have her tears mopped up by Rosemary.

“Absolutely. I’m also positive that I don’t even want to own things that I have to worry about. So this is just a big old nothing. Except for cleaning it up. We have to do that.”

“I’ll do it all,” Pepper said immediately.

“That sounds good.” Lilly had long quit looking so fearful, although she’d sat down on the kitchen floor with the other two.

“Nah,” Rosemary said. “If we all help, the mess’ll be cleared away in two shakes.”

“That’s what Dad always says. Two shakes. He means really fast.”

“All right, then.” Rosemary looked at both of them, wondering who was more shook up, her or the girls. The burst of tears had seemed to come from nowhere. So had...fear. “Look. How about a hug to get us all back on track again?”

They glommed on to her faster than spit on an envelope. She’d seen Whit hug them. Hugs were so clearly part of their lives...and part of hers. Her brothers were major rib-busters, especially with her. But this was different. This was two eleven-year-old girls who flew into her arms and took her unconditional loving hug for granted—and offered the same kind back to her.