Page 23 of A Christmas Bargain

DEREK

The day after the holiday market downtown, on Saturday, Naomi and I made pancakes together.

“I wonder if Claire always had that many freckles on her face,” she said as she poured the batter.

Sunday, when we went to pick up birdseed for all the feeders we had near the house, she asked, “Do you think Claire always wears her hair in a braid like that?”

Then Monday, on the drive to school, she said, “I still don’t understand how Claire thought it was a xylophone. Anyone can see it was a marimba.”

I rolled my eyes.Not sure about that.

Tuesday, she urged me to Google her. I declined… only to later look up the woman my daughter seemingly couldn’t stop wondering about. I just made sure to look after Naomi was asleep.

“But why is she so curious?” Stacy asked when we met for lunch on Wednesday. She worked as a hygienist at the dental office next door to this café on Main. All the stalls were gone. The market décor was taken away except for wreaths and stands near garden spots throughout the sidewalk area. “Aren’t you worried about how curious Naomi is about this woman?”

I sighed, dropping my napkin on my plate. “Why should I be worried? It’s not like she’d be up to no good. I was right there from the moment they met. Nothing happened without my supervision.”

She cringed and shrugged.

“And she has a name. Claire.”

“I remember. When I came over last night to visit, it was Claire this. Claire that. And Claire this and that and this and that.”

I leaned back in my seat, propping my elbow on the arm and resting my chin in my hand to study her. “Why does that bother you so much?”

“She’s a stranger.”

“Not really.” I considered what I knew—or learned. I wasn’t on social media anymore. When Jenna died during Naomi’s birth, I stepped back from so many means of communication. I was already on paternity leave, but that just morphed into retiring early from my investment career. I was overwhelmed with the duality of condolences about Jenna and congratulations about Naomi. That was all I needed to log off social media. Yet, it wasn’t too hard to find a lot about the smiley brunette who’d stood up for my daughter to a bully.

“Derek.” She shot me an exasperated look and huffed. “You stalked her online. That doesn’t mean you know her.”

“I didn’t stalk. I researched. I looked her up.” Not just because my kid wouldn’t stop talking about her but also because I was curious.

“Yeah, and that doesn’t count for much. Anyone can lie and post it online.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why don’t you like her?”

She glanced to the side and rolled her eyes. “I don’tnotlike her. I don’t know her.”

I supposed I had to say I didn’t, either. I was aware of basics, like the fact that she managed Barone Realty in Denver, had a family home in Macomb, and that she drove a silver SUV. I’d learned some other basic information, but nothing personal. She used her online presence professionally, to further advertise her services as a realtor.

But to my surprise, I wanted to get to know her.

“Wait a second.” I sat up, almost stunned by the assumption that hit me. “Are you mad? That Naomi is curious about Claire when she was quick to show how much Mackenzie annoys her?”

She pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow.

“You are!”

“I am not.”

“Stace. Listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I don’t care what BFF pact you made with Mackenzie Ford. She will not become your sister-in-law.”

She huffed again, tossing her fork down to her salad bowl. “You’ve never even given her a chance!”

“No. No, no. I’ve given her countless chances to act like a normal?—”

“She’s normal.”

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