Once Upon a Christmas (8 page)

“S
ometimes I hate myself.”

Blythe spun her chair around and stared out to the backyard. Harley, tail in the air, was sniffing along the back fence. Dusk blurred the edges of the cedar fencing, turning the Eucalyptus trees into ghosts floating above the fence. Why did she let work come first?

You had to. You made a choice and a commitment. Her little voice made so much sense but…There was always the “but.” I missed out. That was the bottom line, she’d missed the family time not just this Sunday but for the last two. She’d missed out on time with Thane.

Unca Dane. How had Amie done with the girls? Alison and Brittany were such fun little girls that Amie most likely had a great time.

Everyone had a great time but me! And Suzanne, if you told him any of our family stories…She shook her head. Time for a tea break.

When she stood up, the yawns caught her and she
stretched her hands over her head to pull out the kinks. Maybe this called for coffee instead of tea. Had she had lunch? Maybe she should call her mother and ask for home delivery.

The food would be good, but she’d missed out on the laughter.

And the love.

She went to the back door and called Harley in. Time to put the pity away and get on with what she needed to be doing.

By the time she turned off the computer that night and organized the CD rack and the sheets of paper, midnight had just chimed on her grandfather clock in the living room. She was ready for the meeting. And exhausted.

Power dressed in a black pinstriped suit, she marched out the door in the morning with all her supplies for her presentation at hand. She drove up to the office building with fifteen minutes to spare and had time to stop in the restroom before entering the offices.

“Hi, Blythe, you all ready?” Gwen, the receptionist, and Blythe had been business acquaintances for the three years she’d handled the company account. “Hey, I like your hair.”

“Thanks.” Blythe resisted the need to touch it. For once on a presentation day, she didn’t have a bad hair day. “They ready?”

Gwen glanced at the clock on her desk. “A couple more minutes. I’ll take you back so you can get set up.”

“Thanks.” Not that she didn’t know the way, but an escort was more official.

After everyone settled with their coffee, legal pads and pens, she publicly greeted them and clicked on her infrared pointer. The presentation lasted twenty-six minutes, but had taken her two weeks to prepare.

At the end she clicked off her screen and motioned for the house lights to be brought back up. “Now I’ve given each of you a copy of the material so we can begin the discussion.” An hour later, she left the building, glowing from the praise heaped upon her and grateful for their desire to continue on to the next step. She wanted to dance and sing out her excitement but that would draw stares and snickers, even in California.

“I did it.” She pounded out a three-four time beat on the steering wheel as she started the car. “Thank You, God. You did it.” Her praise was a bit late, but heartfelt nonetheless. She’d known from the start the project would take more than she had to give, but the Word said nothing was impossible to those who loved the Lord, so she had proceeded on that promise, and look what happened.

She punched Thane’s number into the cell phone and waited. Four rings and an answering machine. That would be a great title for a movie. “Hi, Thane, Blythe here, and I did it. The project I had to finish yesterday was a resounding hit. All for now. Back to the salt mines. Bye.”

Next she called Suzanne and got another answering machine.

“Isn’t anyone around to celebrate with me today? Not fair!”

Back home she changed into jeans and sweater, ate lunch
from leftovers in the fridge and headed back downstairs, Harley dancing beside her, nosing her hand for more love. She sent an e-mail to her mother, wrote a thank-you letter to the company and dove back into the stack of work left to finish. Eleven shopping days until Christmas and she needed to buy something for Amie and Thane, plus her nieces. Her package to her brother and his family had already been mailed to Alabama.

Sometime later an e-mail popped up from Thane.

“If you want people to return your calls, you should check your machine once in awhile.”

“Oops.” She clicked the ringer back on and checked the screen. Four messages. Two from Thane, one from Suzanne, including a scolding for being out of touch, and the fourth from someone needing immediate help with a Christmas present.

She regretfully declined the gift project, feeling like a first-class creep. At least it was via the phone and not in person. Sometimes answering machines were a blessing. That sounded good until she got Thane’s.

“Oh, for Peter Rabbit’s sake.” She waited until her time to speak. “If you are screening your calls, you can’t complain. My phone is now on and I apologize. Later. Blythe.” What had taken him out again?

She caught the next call before the first ring finished. “Blythe’s Graphics.”

“Hi, this is Kevin and our rates are the lowest they’ve been in years.”

Blythe sighed and shook her head. “Thanks, Kevin, but I’m not in the market for a new mortgage.”

“A refi is always helpful.”

“No, thanks. And besides, you shouldn’t have been able to call me, I’ve signed on for the no telemarketing calls program.”

“Sorry.” He hung up abruptly.

“Now, that’s why I screen my calls.” She clunked the receiver down with more force than necessary.

Back at her computer, she continued clicking through clip art, looking for a design to incorporate in the piece she was working on. When she looked up again, dark obscured the backyard.

When the phone rang, she hesitated, then picked up anyway. “Blythe’s Graphics.”

“Shouldn’t your office be closed now?”

“Hi, Thane. No, my office is never closed.” She leaned back in her chair, stretching her neck first to the right, then the left.

“That’s a good part of your problem.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Right now I do not need a lecture on how to run my business.

“You said you had something to celebrate.”

She thought a moment. This morning seemed so far away. “Oh, the Dunbarry account. My presentation was awesome. They loved it and I walked out of there with the go-ahead for the next step.” She slapped her hand on the desk. “I am so pumped.”

“That’s great. Nice to get a payback for all the work.”

“Nice? You call this nice?”

His chuckle made her smile.

“Okay, great then.”

“That’s better. I would have bought you lunch had you been available.”

“I was signing the papers on the house. They accepted my offer.”

“The first one?”

“Well, no, I had to up it again, but still—I’m pleased.”

“So, which house did you go for?”

“The one on the flat. I’ll get a contractor started on that bonus room over the garage as soon as the ink is dry on the final papers.”

“You move faster than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“There were two other people making offers.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“Not quite as close to the freeway but not that far off. I’ve never owned a house before, just this condo.”

She could hear Amie in the background.

“How’s she doing?”

“Amie?”

“Yes.” What other “she” would I be asking about?

“Better. She had a great time at your mother’s yesterday. I tried to call you last night but…”

“I know, the answering machine was on. Why didn’t you leave a message?”

“It got late.”

“Oh. Well, congrats on your first house.”

“I was hoping you would help me decorate it.”

“As long as it’s not before Christmas.”

His chuckle made a warm spot in her middle. “When will you be free?”

“After the first of the year. Or at least back to normal busy.”

“Sounds like a plan. Oh, oh, I better go before I regret it. Sweet dreams.”

“Bye.” She hung up the phone and went to feed Harley. Shame she couldn’t ask Thane if he wanted to walk the dogs now. She glanced at the clock. Seven. The park was closed, not that she couldn’t get in since only a sign warned people that it closed at dark, not a chain.

She’d just settled in the next morning after her coffee break when, surprise of all surprises, the phone rang.

He didn’t wait for her business greeting. “Blythe, I have a serious problem.”

She could tell by his tone he wasn’t kidding. “What’s up?”

“I told you I was taking time off to get things settled?”

“Right?” Why did she have a not good feeling in her stomach?

“I just got a call from Cymex and they are desperate. They insist that I come. I have to go into the city for this, no choice. Would you please come watch Amie for about four hours? I should be back by two, three at the latest.”

Blythe knew he’d not had time to find a local sitter yet. And Suzanne was already gone shopping. What about her mother? Fear set her heart to hammering. She looked at her calendar.

“What do you say? Please, I’m begging you.”

“You promise you’ll be back on time. I have a very important meeting at five.”

“I promise.”

“You could bring her here.” She glanced around her office. “No, where her toys and things are will be better. But Thane Davidson, you’ll owe me big-time for this one.” You have no idea how big…

“Thank you. How soon can you get here?”

“Give me half an hour.” She hung up the phone and turned off her computer. So much for getting that project done today. Surely if Amie took a nap, she could work on something else. She made sure her notes and the manila envelope she’d need for her meeting were in her briefcase, gathered up a few other things, bade Harley behave and out the door she went. You can do this, she ordered herself. It’s just for a couple of hours. Surely nothing can happen in that short a time. You can do this.

He met her at the door, Amie already crying in his arms, two bulging briefcases at his feet.

“Hi, sorry, I tried to warn her.”

“Not a good thing. Just leave, she’ll settle down.” This is one time I hope I don’t have to eat my words. She reached for Amie but the little girl arched her back and screamed.

“No, want Unca Dane.”

Thane set her down. “I’m sorry, Amie, but I have to go. Blythe will be here. You be good and I’ll bring you a present.”

Amie melted down into a bundle on the floor, weeping as if her heart was broken beyond mending.

Thane gave Blythe a look of total confusion and de
spair. “I’ve not left her since I picked her up at Lynn-Ellen’s neighbors.”

“I know. Go.” When the door shut behind him, she knelt by the sobbing child.

“Mommy, I—hic—want—my mommy.”

The words tore at Blythe’s heart. “Of course you want your mommy but she can’t come here. Shall we go sit on the sofa and I’ll read you a story?”

“Noooo—hic—Mommy. Unca Dane.” The sobbing continued with Blythe sitting on the floor, patting Amie’s shoulder and rubbing comfort circles on her back.

How long could this child cry?

Should I put her to bed? Pick her up whether she wants me to or not and hold her on the sofa? Run screaming myself?

Humming a soft tune, she kept up the patting and moving her fingers lightly over Amie’s back. Slowly the sobs lessened to sniffs and hiccups. Matty came out of her crate and sat beside Blythe, so she used one hand to comfort the dog. Matty leaned against her and sighed.

“Good girl.” Blythe wasn’t sure if she meant the dog or the little girl. What would it be like to have your mother disappear like that and a man you hardly know dismantle your home, load you in a car and drive to the end of nowhere. Poor little one. Lord, I don’t know what to do here, other than what I’m doing. If You have any suggestions, could You please send them on?

Matty crawled up in her cross-legged lap and reached up to lick her chin.

“Now Harley is going to know I was here and he’ll get
all excited. Wish I could have taken the two of you to my house.” What I really wish is that I was home in my house and working away.

“You want some juice, Amie?

She shook her head.

“Okay, then Matty and I’ll have some.”

“Bad doggy.”

“No, Matty is a good dog.” Blythe set the dog aside and stood, her knees creaking, her feet sending screaming shards of pain up her legs. She closed her eyes and stood in one place, waiting for the needles to go away.

When she returned, setting a half-filled sippy cup and her own glass of apple juice on the table, Amie had rolled over and lay staring at the ceiling. Green marker pen now decorated the front of her T-shirt and the carpet—and her face.

I should have known better than to leave you alone.
“Oh, boy, guess no one’s taught you to only draw on paper.” Blythe scooped up the child and carried her to the bathroom. Setting her on the counter, she waited until the water warmed before soaking a washcloth. “Next time you color on paper.” It took soap and several scrubbings to clean Amie’s face, making her whimper. “While I have you here, we should probably brush your hair, too.” Looks like Unca Dane has a problem with barrettes and ribbons and such, let alone getting the snarls out. In spite of the lack of cooperation, Blythe got the child cleaned, dressed and set back in the bathroom to comb her hair. First she looked in the cabinet to see if there was some spray to take out the tangles. No such luck. Okay, water would help.

Amie alternated wailing and scowling all the way
through. But when Blythe finished, she turned her around to look in the mirror. “See how pretty you look. Amie looks so nice, all clean and pretty again.”

Other than the scowl.

Blythe set Amie on the floor with a book and went for the cleaning supplies. She sprayed the green marks, scrubbed and patted dry and scrubbed some more. If that didn’t do it, he’d have to call in the carpet cleaners.

Lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches ended up on the floor, making Matty very happy. The faithful sippy cup was the only thing that saved the juice. Only drops came out, not a deluge. Good thing it wasn’t orange or grape juice.