One Imperfect Christmas (28 page)

“Hey, Dad.” Lissa sauntered into the office and dropped her bulging backpack on the nearest chair.

Daniel looked up with a start. “Is it that time already?”

“I didn't see the car out front, so I figured I'd find you here.” She pushed a stack of papers aside and perched on the edge of the desk, blowing out a long puff of air that lifted her pale bangs off her forehead. “Can you believe Mr. O'Grady assigned three book reports over the holidays?”

“Mean ol' Mr. O'Grady.” Daniel clicked his tongue and discreetly slid Coach Arnell's phone message into the top drawer. “So you'll have to read some mind-expanding books instead of spending all your time shopping, watching videos, and hanging out with Jody.”

“Like you know anything.” Lissa lifted her chin and glared at him.

“Watch it, young lady.” The kid had gotten way too big for her britches lately, and it was only getting worse.

And yet they were talking. He sure didn't want to do anything to discourage her. He gave a laugh meant to sound casual, but it didn't. “So what do you have in mind for the holidays?”

Lissa dropped her gaze to pick at a hangnail. Her insolent expression melted as her lower lip began to tremble. “Spend time with Grandma, for one thing. I want to be there when Granddad brings her home Saturday.” She peered at him through slitted eyes. “I think we
all
should be there.”

He knew exactly what she meant. He didn't know how to reply. Instead, he pushed his chair out and reached for his Panthers jacket, draped over the corner of a glass case full of tarnished basketball trophies from years gone by—kind of like the way his heart felt these days. Faded memories, tainted hopes.

“Let's go home, kiddo. We'll talk about it later.”

The short drive to their apartment passed in silence. Daniel couldn't imagine how to break it to his daughter that her grandmother was coming home to die. And according to recent conversations with Bram and Hart, neither of them had been able to tell Natalie, either. Someone had to, and soon, before the shock of realization devastated her completely. And if that happened, he might never win his wife back.

Dread sat like a lump of cold oatmeal in the pit of his stomach. He had to do
something,
before it was too late. “Hey, Liss, I just remembered an errand I need to run.” He dropped his gym bag amid the clutter on the kitchen table. “Will you be okay for a little while?”

“Oh, please, Dad. I'm almost fourteen, for crying out loud.” Lissa opened the refrigerator and grabbed a soft drink. “So what's up? Last-minute Christmas shopping? Don't forget my new laptop, PDA, digital camera … and how about one of those color printer/fax/scanner combo thingies?”

Daniel shook off his worry long enough to choke out a mocking laugh. “On a coach's salary? In your dreams.” With a roll of his eyes, he locked the apartment door behind him and jogged to his car.

He let the engine idle while he hammered his frustrations against the steering wheel. Only one thing to do …
talk to Natalie.
Arriving in downtown Fawn Ridge, he pulled into a parking space in front of the print shop. Through the spray-on snow art decorating Natalie's office window, he could see her pecking away at her computer. Steeling himself, he went inside.

Deannie greeted him at the front counter. “Hey, Daniel, long time no see. How's it going?” She flicked a red curl off her shoulder and cast him a megawatt smile.

“Pretty good.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I hoped to catch Natalie before she leaves.”

“Oh, you know her. She'll be here till all hours of the night.” Deannie glanced at her computer terminal and tapped some keys. “Go on back, why don't you? I know she'll be
so
glad you stopped by.”

“Yeah, right,” he said under his breath. He nodded his thanks and started down the corridor.

“Nat?” He tapped on her partially open door and peered inside.

She looked up, and for a split second he imagined he saw a hint of happy surprise in her eyes. “Daniel. What are you doing here?” Her expression quickly changed to worry. “Something hasn't happened with Lissa—”

“No, no, Lissa's fine.” He waved a hand. “I just wanted … ”

Suddenly he couldn't remember why he came or what he'd planned to say. His legs felt like two limp celery stalks, the way they got pale and rubbery if you left them in the produce drawer too long. He sidled across the office and planted himself in the chair opposite Natalie's desk.

She drummed her fingers on a file folder. “Not to rush you, but I've got a lot to finish up before the weekend, since Mom's coming home.”

Daniel's senses returned with painful clarity. He took a bolstering breath. “That's what I came to talk to you about.” He twisted his wedding ring and tried not to dwell on the fact that he hadn't seen Natalie wearing hers for months. “I know Lissa wants to stay out at the farm for the holidays so she can be near her grandmother, but—”

“That's a great idea.” Natalie's expression brightened. “Mom would love it, and I would too.” She bit her lip. “You wouldn't mind terribly, would you? You did take Lissa to your parents' for Thanksgiving.”

“It's not that.” He closed his eyes briefly, searching for the right words. “I just don't want Lissa to be hurt,” he said finally.
I don't want you to be hurt, Natalie.

“Lissa will be fine. She's been visiting Mom at the nursing home all along, even when … ” She looked away, sadness crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Even when I couldn't bear to anymore.”

She turned toward him, tears glistening on her lashes. He struggled to breathe against the stabbing pain under his heart. “It's going to be a good Christmas, Daniel, a
perfect
Christmas. Let Lissa come out to the farm. It'll be so good for Mom to have the family all together—”

Deannie popped into the office. “Sorry to interrupt, but Mrs. Nielsen's on the phone asking if it's too late to make a change in her daughter's wedding invitation. Can you talk to her?”

“Sure. I'm working on it now.” Natalie reached for the phone. “Daniel, I've really got to take care of this. Can we talk later?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, rising. Everything left unsaid boiled and churned in his belly. “But soon, okay? There's still a lot we need to—”

Natalie didn't give him a chance to finish. “Hi, Mrs. Nielsen. How can I help you?”

“You've got to forgive her.” Deannie took Daniel's arm and ushered him to the front office. “Things have been so hectic lately. But it's sure to let up with Christmas almost here.” She paused by the counter, her green eyes dancing. “Sounds like you're making some special plans for the holidays, huh?”

He arched a brow. What
was
this gal up to? And why should she be so interested in his Christmas plans? “Natalie's very excited about her mother coming home. She's—we're all—hoping for the best.”

He said good-bye and left, feeling as if he'd been trampled in a full-court press. Between Natalie's blind optimism and Deannie's irrepressible … whatever it was … he'd never even had a chance to approach Natalie with the truth about her mother.

Perfect Christmas?
Not much chance of that. Not when his wife faced what might be the most painful Christmas of her life.

“It's fine, Mrs. Nielsen. I'm making the change as we speak,” Natalie said into the phone as she typed. “I'll have Deannie give you a call in the morning, and you can come by to okay the proof before we go to press.”

Nothing could ruffle her composure today, not with Mom coming home this weekend. Lissa would spend the Christmas holidays at the farm, and together they would help Mom begin painting therapy. It might be many more months before she'd be ready for a class at Reach for the Stars, but everything started with baby steps.

As if life could possibly get any better, Natalie breathed a sigh of relief that the rush of holiday advertising and promotional mailings would soon be over. She was on track to be completely caught up by Friday, thanks in large part to Deannie's help. For the first time since hiring Jeff's flighty, sometimes airhead niece, Natalie felt truly grateful to have Deannie around. She almost wished she could keep her as her assistant when she returned to freelancing.

A tiny twinge of anxiety crept in. She had yet to speak to Jeff about her intention to dissolve their partnership. She still hadn't found the right time or the right words—maybe this afternoon. Hard as it would be to break the news to him after all this partnership had done to boost her career, she couldn't put off the discussion much longer.

Deannie waltzed into the office. “Don't you just love Christmas?” Smiling smugly, she set an aromatic mug of spice tea and a massive frosted Christmas cookie on a poinsettia napkin in front of Natalie.

Natalie glanced up from her computer. “Wow! To what do I owe this special treatment?”

“Just spreading a little Christmas cheer. Mom sent over the spice tea mix, and Alan's girlfriend made the cookies.”

Natalie raised a brow. “Alan has
a
girlfriend?” Emphasis on the singular. Half the phone calls that came into the shop were some girl or another asking for the hotshot delivery van driver. If his ego got any bigger, his head would explode.

“Well, he's supposedly got a steady date for all the holiday parties.” Deannie released a moan that sounded almost envious before lifting her chin. “So … how are things with you?” She drew out the question with meaning.

“As in … ?” Natalie bit into the cookie, dropping yellow crumbs in her lap. She flicked them away with the back of her hand.

“Your family and stuff.” Deannie ran her finger along the edge of the desk. “You know,
things.”

Natalie closed her eyes for a moment, mild irritation mixing with idle curiosity. Deannie had this infernal penchant for maneuvering personal topics into the conversation—topics that were really none of her business. “You already know we're bringing my mother home on Saturday. My dad had a hospital bed delivered, and the live-in caregiver is moving in Friday to get things set up.”

Deannie strolled to the window and gazed toward the brightly decorated tree across the street in the town square. “It'll be so wonderful to have your family all together again for Christmas.”

“Yes, it will.” Natalie perused the wedding invitation layout on her computer screen while she sipped from her mug.

“And I know Lissa's going to be thrilled to have you and Daniel back together—”

Hot spiced tea seared Natalie's throat as she swallowed to keep from spewing it all over her desk. It took her several sputtering coughs to recover.

Deannie pivoted from the window. “Natalie, are you all right? Do you need the Heimlich maneuver or something?”

“I'm fine.” Waving her assistant away, Natalie shook the crumbs off the Christmas napkin and patted her lips with it.

“Was it me? Did I say something that upset you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She had thought nothing could shake her mountaintop exhilaration.
Leave it to Deannie.

“Oh.” Deannie's lips flattened. “You and Daniel. You're not getting back together, are you?”

Natalie stood, fingertips pressed so hard against the desktop, her knuckles throbbed. She nailed her assistant with a piercing glare. “Miss Garner, listen and listen good. The state of my marriage is not your concern, and I resent your offhanded comments and meddling.”

“Well, somebody has to meddle.” Deannie lifted her hands toward the ceiling, her face reddening to almost the same shade as her hair. “Because you're obviously too boneheaded to figure things out for yourself.” Flinging her curls, she stormed out of the office.