Authors: Lynn Patrick
Could the heart-to-heart talks Rafe had had with his son be having their effect? Hank had listened carefully when his father had talked openly about the divorce and how both parents would continue to love their children. The boy had seemed to understand when Rafe explained that he and Nicole were likely to form other love relationships, possibly even remarry, and that neither parent would choose a new spouse who didn’t accept their kids.
He’d then added that Gretta and Hank had to be accepting too. The boy had said nothing to that statement, but had acted as though he were feeling guilty. Would guilt be enough punishment for what his son had done? Rafe wondered, now able to admit the truth. Planning to work up to more concrete talks, Rafe was trying his best to straighten the boy out.
Putting down his magazine, he listened to Louise bustle around in the kitchen and he inhaled the delightful aroma of roasting turkey. He was looking forward to the evening except for one thing—Melissa wouldn’t be there to celebrate with them. And, despite his son’s involvement in the matter, Rafe knew it was his own fault. He’d thought about calling her or dropping by her apartment many times in the past week, but had never found the nerve. Would she forgive him for the way he’d behaved toward her? For accusing her of unfairly criticizing his children when they’d played tricks on her? For telling her she was immature?
Rafe sighed. Even at the time, he’d known he was wrong. He just wouldn’t admit it, not even to Louise when she’d confronted him. He’d been the one who’d been immature, thinking only he could understand his children and the pain they’d all gone through because of the divorce. He’d been selfish too. He should have opened up and listened to Melissa long ago. In spite of his outward distrust of her lifestyle, he’d always sensed she was a warm, giving, and trustworthy person.
But he’d been too embarrassed to approach her since he’d seen her at Haldan-Northrop the week before. Later he’d known he’d overreacted. He was positive Melissa and her skinny pal were only friends. But had she really thought she and Rafe could just be friends? That was impossible, considering how he felt about her. He was ready to say he was sorry now. In fact, he was ready to tell her this minute!
And wouldn’t you know the kids would want their dinner tonight, the very time he’d found the courage for an apologetic trek over to Melissa’s place? Luckily, the dinner wouldn’t last all night. He could go over later. Anxiously, Rafe checked his watch and saw it was seven-thirty. Trying not to think about Melissa and get impatient, he rose from the chair and went to the kitchen to see how the dinner was proceeding. On the way he almost collided with Hank, who’d come running back down the stairs.
“We aren’t ready to eat yet, Gran,” his son said as Louise took a huge roasting pan out of the oven.
“The turkey will dry out if it cooks any longer.”
“Aw. Can’t we wait for another half hour? That’s not so long.”
“Aren’t you hungry?” Rafe asked, wondering at Hank’s unusual behavior.
“Yeah. I just think we should eat at eight o’clock.” Hank examined his digital watch. “That’s only twenty-two more minutes and six seconds away.” The boy paused, furrowing his brow. “Don’t you think we could digest the food better if we wait? Otherwise, Gretta might get a stomachache.”
Rafe exchanged curious looks with Louise. Why was the boy being so adamant about time, to the point of manufacturing silly excuses? Yet, there was a coiled expectancy about Hank, as if his son were excited, that made Rafe keep quiet.
Louise merely shrugged, commenting, “I guess it won’t hurt to wait a few minutes. Why don’t we put the bird on a platter and you can start carving? I’ll dish up the rest of the food. When we’re ready to sit it should be about eight o’clock anyway. Hank, you can finish setting the table in the other room with the cloth napkins and the crystal. We might as well be formal.”
Slicing white meat from the turkey and carefully removing the drumsticks, Rafe watched Hank go about his task. The boy worked diligently, all the while repeatedly checking his watch. When he was finished with the table Hank paced nervously from room to room. Once the kid even went down to the studio, returning with a disgruntled expression on his face.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Rafe. “Are you expecting Santa Claus in March?”
The boy looked startled. “Uh, no Dad. I feel like wandering around, that’s all.”
“Hank has a lot of energy, Rafe,” said Louise. Did she have a knowing expression on her face? Was she in cahoots with Hank and were they planning a surprise?
At eight o’clock the family seated themselves and Rafe began passing around the heaping plates of food. Red and green candles burned in the middle of the table, surrounded by small evergreen branches, Christmas ornaments, and a few sprigs of real mistletoe Louise had managed to find somewhere.
“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Rafe said, holding his wineglass aloft for a toast. “Drink up your soda, kids. You’re the ones who wanted this celebration.”
Both Gretta and Hank complied, although the little girl was quiet and the boy definitely acted glum. Rafe was about to ask them what was wrong when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Hank cried, almost knocking his plate off the table as he bolted from his chair.
“I’m gonna help!” shouted Gretta, running after him.
“What in the world are they up to?” Louise asked, echoing her son’s unspoken question.
“I’ll go see. Maybe they’re having something delivered,” he said, pushing back his chair.
It was obviously time for the surprise. Grinning to himself as he went to the stairway to peer down, Rafe heard excited whispers below. When he stuck his head farther over the railing, he saw Gretta doing a little dance around a vision in white who glowed almost luminescently in the partial dark of the stairwell. Then he suddenly heard a familiar, tinkling laugh.
He should have recognized her by that sound. Or by the way she glided toward him, lightly ascending the staircase, dressed in an antique beaded dress with wide bell-like sleeves.
But Rafe was expecting a surprise, not a miracle, and he gaped when Melissa raised her sweet, flowerlike face and spotted him at the top of the stairs. Obviously as disconcerted as he, she stood still.
The rest of the scene was magical. Rafe didn’t know who moved first. Afterward he only remembered beckoning and reaching out to the shimmering vision, crystal combs sparkling in her soft hair, while she lifted her flowing sleeves and quickly flew up the steps and into his arms. Accepting the enchanting gift, Rafe embraced Melissa with all the fervor of his love and passion.
“Daddy!” complained Gretta. “You’re always crushing her wings!”
About to thoroughly kiss his lady, Rafe loosened his hold. In puzzlement he ran his hands over Melissa’s back and asked, “What wings?”
Melissa held out an arm and laughed breathlessly. She told Gretta, “These aren’t wings, honey. They’re just my sleeves.”
Louise and Hank had joined the little girl to surround the couple. Melissa and Rafe would have to wait until later for more complete intimacy.
“Surprise! Merry Christmas, Daddy!” Gretta cried, hugging his legs.
“Yeah. Merry Christmas, Dad. We invited Melissa,” Hank said proudly, acting as if he were giving Rafe a present.
“I get my very own—” Rafe began.
“Christmas fairy!” interrupted Gretta. “She’s the tooth fairy only for me.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Rafe said dryly.
“Merry Christmas! Happy March 22!” Melissa cried, disengaging Rafe’s hold to pull a small bag out from a hidden pocket in her dress. Giggling, she sprinkled everyone and most of the floor around them with sparkling powder.
“Fairy dust!” exclaimed Gretta. “Are we gonna turn into punkins now?”
Hank groaned and poked his little sister.
“It’s love magic,” said Rafe. Although Melissa was laughing he could tell there were unspoken questions lurking in her bright blue eyes. Quickly taking her in his arms again, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I was such a fool. Can you forgive me?”
“Leave them alone for a minute. Let’s go back to the table,” said Louise, grabbing Hank and Gretta to lead the reluctant children away. “Did you think of this all by yourselves? I never even guessed. How clever you are!”
Gretta turned as she was dragged off. “Look, Daddy!” She pointed up at the light fixture above them. “Mistletoe! You’re supposed to kiss her!”
“Come on, sweetheart,” said Louise, propelling her around the corner.
Rafe didn’t need further prompting. He pulled Melissa into the stairwell leading upstairs, trying to get as much privacy as possible in the semiopen area. “Mistletoe magic,” he murmured, pressing her tightly against his body, claiming her lips with a long, exploratory kiss. How he needed his little fairy, he thought fiercely. “I’ll never let you go again,” he whispered before reclaiming her willing mouth.
Her heart warmed by his words, Melissa responded by putting her arms about his neck, oblivious to the way his tight embrace pressed the dress’s beading into her breasts. It had been so long since she’d felt this excitement that streaked through her like a shooting star. Their separation had seemed like an eternity. Yet now, anchored once again in Rafe’s arms, Melissa felt as if she’d come home.
Without thinking, she gently nipped Rafe’s lower lip, sensuously rubbing her body against him.
Groaning, he ran his fevered hands up her sides to possessively cup her breasts. His slight movement backed Melissa gently into the nearby railing of the stairway.
“Oh!” she gasped, suddenly realizing where they were.
“Damn!” he cursed as he relinquished her breasts and looked around him. “We can’t do anything here.”
“Or in
there
, either. We’ll have to wait.”
Taking a deep breath and caressing her hair, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Well, little sugarplum, that’s the problem with having children.”
“There’s only one problem?”
“Well, there are a few others,” Rafe admitted sheepishly. “But those are usually caused by parents. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me—and the innocent kids I led wrong? What they did was my fault, you know. I let them get away with too much. And I compared you to Nicole with all her problems. I was so afraid you’d leave me like she did, I couldn’t see you as yourself. Then I went and drove you away. Can you believe I loved—love you anyway?”
“I believe you and forgive you. I love you, too, Rafe.”
She touched his lips with a kiss as light as gossamer wings, all the time thinking she’d do much more if they were entirely alone.
“I was planning on telling you tonight,” he continued between short, sweet kisses. “But the kids planned this dinner, and then you beat me to it.”
“Hey, Daddy! Melissa! Are you going to eat or not?” Gretta yelled, sticking her face around the stairwell corner.
“Gretta! Come back here!” Louise shouted.
“We may as well have dinner,” Rafe said, then whispered, “I’ll make it up to you later!”
Seeing the promise in his penetrating dark eyes, Melissa felt delicious chills climb up and down her spine. It would be difficult to behave during dinner. She would simply have to steel herself to be patient.
As they headed toward the dining room she asked, “Did you know your misguided children came to find me at one of my library jobs, Rafe?” When he shook his head she told him, “They invited me to this dinner. I don’t know why or how, but I think they want us to get back together.”
“I told you I had great kids!”
When they were seated Louise exclaimed, “What a wonderful dinner this is going to be!”
Sitting beside Melissa, Rafe held her hand tightly, managing to eat with his left hand. Though the food was barely lukewarm, it didn’t matter to Melissa. She wasn’t hungry anyway. She was satisfied to sit and merely look into Rafe’s velvety brown eyes.
“I was afraid our fairy tale wouldn’t have a happy ending,” she told him.
“So was I.”
“What kinda fairy tale are you talking about?” asked Gretta. “I wanna hear it.”
“You do?” Rafe turned to the child. “All right. Once upon a time, there was a little fairy who flew over a huge city. She was searching for something. She looked all over as she flew between the spires and the towers of the buildings. The city was beautiful—it shone like gold in the daytime sun and sparkled like it was decorated with strings of diamonds at night. But the fairy kept searching and searching and she couldn’t find what she was looking for.”
Melissa smiled with delight. She had no idea Rafe was good at storytelling.
“What was the fairy looking for?” asked Gretta, her eyes wide.
“A job in a department store?” questioned Hank jokingly.
“A tooth? Some choc’late candy?” Gretta licked her lips.
“Some friends?” asked Hank.
“No, the fairy was searching for love,” declared Louise knowingly.
“That’s true.” Melissa leaned over the table as she continued Rafe’s story. “The fairy was looking for love all right and she found it when she saw the dark prince. She hoped he was looking for her also when she flew down into his arms.”
“I hope she didn’t knock him over,” teased Hank.
“She wasn’t flying that fast, dummy!” Gretta hit her brother playfully with a piece of bread.