Page 29 of All I Want for Christmas

“Clear enough. The No Trespassing signs are back up, and I’m out.”

“It’s not like that, Nell.” He set the spoon down, took a step toward her. But there was a line he couldn’t quite cross. A line he’d created himself. If he didn’t make certain they both stayed on their own sides of it, the life he’d so carefully built could crumble. “I’ve got things under control here, and I need to keep them that way. I’m all they’ve got. They’re all I’ve got. I can’t mess that up.”

“No explanations necessary.” Her voice had thickened. In a moment, she knew, it would begin to shake. “You made it clear from the beginning. Crystal-clear. Funny, the first time you invite me into your home, it’s to toss me out.”

“I’m not tossing you out, I’m trying to realign things.”

“Oh, go to hell, and keep your realignments for your houses.” She sprinted out of the kitchen.

“Nell, don’t go like this.” But by the time he reached the living room, she was grabbing her coat, and his boys were racing down the stairs.

“Where are you going, Miss Davis? You haven’t—” Both boys stopped, shocked by the tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry.” It was too late to hide them, so she kept heading for the door. “I have to do something. I’m sorry.”

And she was gone, with Mac standing impotently in the living room and both boys staring at him. A dozen excuses spun around in his head. Even as he tried to grab one, Zack burst into tears.

“She went away. You made her cry, and she went away.”

“I didn’t mean to. She—” He moved to gather his sons up and was met with a solid wall of resistance.

“You ruined everything.” A tear spilled out of Zeke’s eyes, heated by temper. “We did everything we were supposed to, and you ruined it.”

“She’ll never come back.” Zack sat on the bottom step and sobbed. “She’ll never be the mom now.”

“What?” At his wits’ end, Mac dragged his hand through his hair. “What are you two talking about?”

“You ruined it,” Zeke said again.

“Look, Miss Davis and I had a … disagreement. People have disagreements. It’s not the end of the world.” He wished it didn’t feel like the end of his world.

“Santa sent her.” Zack rubbed his eyes with his fists. “He sent her, just like we asked him. And now she’s gone.”

“What do you mean, Santa sent her?” Determined, Mac sat on the steps. He pulled a reluctant Zack into his lap and tugged Zeke down to join them. “Miss Davis came from New York to teach music, not from the North Pole.”

“We know that.” Temper set aside, Zeke sought comfort, turning his face into his father’s chest. “She came because we sent Santa a letter, months and months ago, so we’d be early and he’d have time.”

“Have time for what?”

“To pick out the mom.” On a shuddering sigh, Zack sniffed and looked up at his father. “We wanted someone nice, who smelled good and liked dogs and had yellow hair. And we asked, and she came. And you were supposed to marry her and make her the mom.”

Mac let out a long breath and prayed for wisdom. “Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking about having a mother?”

“Notamom,” Zeke told him. “Themom. Miss Davis is the mom, but she’s gone now. We love her, and she won’t like us anymore because you made her cry.”

“Of course she’ll still like you.” She’d hate him, but she wouldn’t take it out on the boys. “But you two are old enough to know you don’t get moms from Santa.”

“He sent her, just like we asked him. We didn’t ask for anything else but the bikes.” Zack burrowed into his lap. “We didn’t ask for any toys or any games. Just the mom. Make her come back, Dad. Fix it. You always fix it.”

“It doesn’t work like that, pal. People aren’t broken toys or old houses. Santa didn’t send her, she moved here for a job.”

“He did too send her.” With surprising dignity, Zack pushed off his father’s lap. “Maybe you don’t want her, but we do.”

His sons walked up the stairs, a united front that closed him out. Mac was left with emptiness in the pit of his stomach and the smell of burned cocoa.

Chapter 10

She should get out of town for a few days, Nell thought. Go somewhere. Go anywhere. There was nothing more pathetic than sitting alone on Christmas Eve and watching other people bustle along the street outside your window.

---