Page 70 of Twins for the Silver Foxes

“I’m not shopping for myself.”I put it back on the hanger and walked around a display of mannequins in giant ballgown dresses. Megan huffed and snatched the sweater back.

“Fine.Merry Christmas. I’m getting it for you and you have to act surprised when you open it.” She made a pretend shocked face then said, “Oh, Megan, that’s so pretty. How did you know?”

I founda chunky necklace with a band of gaudy pearls and an obscene amount of gold and held it out to her. “Pass or smash?”

“That’s not how you play.”Megan returned the necklace, her voice falling back into its normal tone. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?”I left it there, giving her the chance to explain or drop the subject. We were dancing on the edge of dangerous territory. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what she thought of me.

She paidfor the sweater and led the way from the boutique to a coffee and muffin cart near the railing. “I’m glad you’re different. And that you’re in Dad’s life. He needed someone like you. I wanted to hate you for that but you’re too nice to hate.” She made a sour face.

“Can’t sayanyone has ever told me that before.” I bought us both a coffee and a blueberry muffin and we sat side by side on an empty bench facing an antique record store. People moved up and down the storefronts. Some stopped to examine a window , but most walked with the same hurried motion Megan employed and wore the same annoyed expressions.

Where was the joy?

Megan drankher coffee and picked at the muffin. “You’re the reason I’ve been able to see past the hurt and bitterness.”

The biteof muffin I’d taken lodged in my throat. I chewed slowly, sipping coffee to help wash it down. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be.”Megan intentionally misunderstood me, her smile and laugh sparking to life and fading in an instant. “I always show up with a chip on my shoulder. Dad mopes around and acts like I’m barely there. Not this year.” She threw her trash in the closest trash can and brushed her hands together. The boutique bag was over her wrist, swinging back and forth with everymotion. “We’ve connected this year. For the first time in my life, he explained things to me instead of letting me beat the verbal hell out of him and then run away.”

I stood and hugged her.She looked so young and fragile as she made her admission that I had no choice. “I’m happy for you both. And I know it would mean a lot to Arthur to have a better relationship with you.” I waited for her to stiffen and pull away. She did neither. I stayed there as long as she needed. People walking past might have wondered at the situation, but I didn’t care. Megan’s emotional well-being mattered more than the thoughts of strangers. “You should consider telling him how you feel. It would be the best possible Christmas present you could give him.”

Megan droppedher arms and took a step back. “Dad’s not great at talking.”

“Not usually,no. But he’s trying. Hearing that you want to improve your relationship is a great motivator. Being able to have a conversation without yelling is a huge improvement, don’t you think?” I walked us toward the record store. I’d seen a record player in Arthur’s study and flipped through his collection. Maybe I’d find something he didn’t have, something special.

Megan tooka deep breath when we entered the store. “Smells like my childhood. Dust and hopelessness.”

“There’s always hope.”I found a box full of the type of music he had and examined the records inside. “You might have to lookdeeper and work at it, but it’s there.” The twins growing inside me were a testament to hope. They would grow up safe and loved by three amazing men. “Trust your dad a little. Can you do that for me?”

Megan pulledout a black album and turned it over and over in her hands. “Yeah. I’ll try. I’d like to leave this Christmas feeling better about life and our relationship than how I have before.”

“Good.”I found a record for Arthur and carried it to the front. We shopped until our arms were loaded down and my feet ached. It was worth it to see Megan smile and to know that she’d made progress in overcoming her anger. Christmas was about to get a whole lot better.

37

ARTHUR

I’d never experienced a Christmas Eve like this one. Scott, Ryland, and I sat in front of the fireplace and toasted each other with glasses of wine. The fire crackled and popped, sending wafts of pine into the study.

Megan, Hannah, and Liddy had disappeared an hour ago with explicit instructions that we were to stay put and enjoy ourselves.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Scott swirled his wine around his glass and took a casual sip.

“I don’t know but I’m pretty sure it involves food.” Ryland sniffed the air. “Anyone else smell that?”

“I smell that.” Scott pointed his wine glass at the fire. Ryland stood and walked to the door. He leaned against the frame and finished his wine.

“Definitely food. Ham, I think.”

I set my wine glass down and stood. “Well, I’m about to ignore our orders. Anyone else?” I slid past Ryland. “It’s Christmas Eve, and as much as I love you two, I’d rather spend time with everyone. Including my daughter.”

“Let’s go.” Scott elbowed me and tried to dart past.

I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back with a laugh as I shoved him toward Ryland. “Last one there has to wash dishes.” I ran like hell itself nipped at my heels. I’d never been so carefree, especially not at Christmastime.

The kitchen door swung open and Liddy stepped out. She crossed her arms and glared. “No running in the house.” Her scowl turned into a giggle when I scooped her up and ran us both into the kitchen. “Mama, it’s his fault.” She jabbed a finger into my shoulder.

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