Page 19 of Doctor Frost

I smiled and turned the radio on. Christmas music flooded the kitchen with one of my favourite songs. I made my way back over to where I was working on the salad and finished ripping up the lettuce and was about to dump the croutons in when I heard a voice behind me.

“Amelia?”

I turned to see Claire standing there with her brother. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Tommy hid behind her, not smiling either.

“Hey, Claire!” I said, trying to sound upbeat for them. “Hi, Tommy.”

“You’re listening to the radio? Dad never—”

“Claire!” Dalton yelled in that familiar stern voice he usually used at the office, causing me to jump and dump half the box of croutons into the salad.

I glanced over at Claire to see tears fill her eyes, and then looked over at Dalton and shook my head.

“Guys, go get ready for dinner,” Dalton barked, draining the pot of pasta into a strainer.

I looked over at Claire, her eyes filled with tears, and watched as she took Tommy and headed down the hall to the washroom.

“What was that?” I questioned.

“Is the garlic bread ready for the oven?” he asked, ignoring my question completely.

This time I ignored him and grabbed the tray with the garlic bread and shoved it into the oven.

It was unbearablyquiet at dinner. When Claire and Tommy both returned to the dining room, neither of them even lookedmy way. They sat there, eyes down, and ate. Dalton sat looking out the window, ignoring everyone. It was the most uncomfortable dinner I’d ever sat through, and wondered if this was what homelife for these kids had been like since their mother died.

The moment plates were empty, Dalton gathered them and carried them into the kitchen without a word to anyone. I looked at both the kids, my heart hurting for them.

“You both doing okay?” I asked quietly. “Your dad told me what today is.”

Tommy looked up at me with red eyes. He’d been crying at some point. Probably before they came into dinner, and when Claire looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes.

“Did you guys want to talk about your mom?” I questioned, glancing at the doorway to the dining room.

Dalton was more than likely making coffee and cutting the cake I’d stopped to pick up on my way here. I didn’t care if he overheard; he needed to overhear. He needed to be here for his kids. He should be the one asking these questions, not me, some stranger.

Claire looked at me. “I can sometimes still smell her perfume,” she said, her voice barely audible. “It was my favourite. I still have a bit in a bottle she used to use. I don’t use it, just smell it when I’m missing her.”

“I did the same thing with a bottle of my father’s cologne.” I softly smiled. I wanted her to know there was nothing wrong with what she was doing, because there was no doubt in my mind that if Dalton had caught her, he’d have yelled.

“What about you, Tommy?”

He shrugged. “I don’t remember much. I was so little. I sometimes get this song stuck in my head. Claire told me Mom used to sing it to me.”

“Can you hum it for me?”

When he began humming it, I instantly recognized it. That was when Dalton walked in. He stood there, watching Tommy sitting there with his eyes closed, humming. He surprised me as he then looked at me and started saying the words.

“Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes.”

He placed the two mugs of coffee that were on the tray he carried in front of me and himself, then placed two glasses of milk in front of both the kids, all while continuing to say the words while Tommy hummed.

Claire looked at me with tears in her eyes. When Tommy stopped humming, he too looked up with tears in his eyes. I was almost certain I even saw Dalton’s eyes water a little as he finished.

My throat was tight as I sat there witnessing something I’d never thought I would. Dalton bent down and placed a kiss on the top of both kids’ heads, gave them a hug, and whispered something into each of their ears before he sat down and took a sip of his coffee, and probably for the first time he actually started talking to his kids about their mother.

After we’d finisheddessert and Dalton shared some stories about his wife with the kids, it was time for them to get ready for bed. While he went up and tucked them in, I quickly cleaned up the kitchen and started the dishwasher, then poured us two fresh cups of coffee and made my way into the living room, where I sat down just as Dalton joined me.

“I poured you a fresh coffee,” I said as he sat down beside me.

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