Page 25 of Daddy's Christmas Rescue
“I’d love a coffee please,” Amanda added lightly, walking into the kitchen.
“Of course,” I whispered. She smiled like she’d won something and walked right past me into the house, heels clicking against the hardwood.
Biscuit gave a confused bark, tail wagging uncertainly. She barely glanced at him.
I moved to make the coffee on autopilot watching her move around like she belonged — setting her purse on the counter, glancing toward the hallway, the living room, the window where Blake’s truck usually sat.
So that was it. That was why he hadn’t kissed me last night. Not because I’d done something wrong. Because he already belonged to someone else.
And not just anyone, but someone beautiful, someone real. Someone who fit in this world of polished wood and steady confidence, who didn’t tremble when people raised their voices, who didn’t hide her bruises with long sleeves.
Amanda took her coat off and flung it over a chair. Her eyes skimmed the fresh cookies, the chocolate cake cooling on the rack, the faint flour streak on my sleeve. I felt twice as awkward, suddenly wishing I’d changed out of the kitten sweater or at least brushed my hair.
She smiled at me over the rim of the coffee mug when I passed it over. It was a perfect smile. Not a single tooth out of place. “You’re clearly competent in the kitchen,” she said, “but don’t feel like you have to impress him. Blake’s very…simple. He likes things comfortable.”
I nodded. What else could I do? My lips felt numb.
She sipped her coffee, then set it down like she was posing for a magazine. “He mentioned he’d found someone to help out. I thought it would be a woman with a little more…experience.” Her eyes flicked over me, head to toe. “But I suppose if you’re happy to do the work, that’s what matters.”
My brain scrambled. Was I supposed to say yes? Or should I apologize? I had no idea. I wished I had the bunny but he was on my pillow. “I like baking. It’s not a bother.”
Amanda smiled wider, but it was cold. “Well, that’s good. Blake’s so busy with the business I doubt he’d even notice if this place burned down.” She laughed, like it was a joke, but I couldn’t find the funny in it. “Of course it will be different when we get married. He’s already got a lot marked out for a new home for us.”
What was wrong with this one? I nodded again, feeling smaller by the second. Biscuit came and sat at my feet, probably sensing I needed backup. Amanda didn’t even look at him.
She wandered over to the Christmas tree, one finger tracing the garland. “You did this?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “It’s cute. I always tell Blake he should just hire a decorator, but he’s stubborn.” She turned, and her eyes went sharp. “His parents died over the holidays so he doesn’t like the reminder of the decorations.”
I couldn’t hold back the gasp. What had I done? I’d wanted to cheer him up, not remind him of what might be the worst time in his life.
She picked up a snowflake ornament, turned it over, then set it back like it was toxic. “This is our first real Christmas together,” she said. “We’ve both been so busy, it’s a miracle we even get to see each other. I told him this year would be special. Just us. Family. A proper celebration. He deserves it.”
I stared at the floor. I had no idea what to say.
She moved closer, dropping her voice. “I know he can be gruff. Distant. But he’s very protective of what’s his. Sometimes people get confused about their place here, but that’s not your fault. I just don’t want you to get ideas. You understand, don’t you?”
My chest clenched so tight I thought I might choke. “Yes.”
“Perfect.” She gave a clap, like I’d pleased her. “In fact, I need to take a bath and get on something I bought in New York just so he can take it off again.” She laughed suggestively, then waved a hand. “You can finish early today. I’m sure you have Christmas things to do with your family, and you understand as we’ve been apart for a few days we need the privacy.”
That’s all there was to it. I stood in the kitchen like some frightened rabbit, not sure what to do, while Amanda wandered down the hall humming to herself. I heard her on the phone a minute later, voice high and sharp, slicing through the house like it belonged to her. Maybe it did.
The living room was still glowing with the lights I’d put up. The tree twinkled, and the garland sagged in the exact same spot as before. For a second, I saw it all with Amanda’s eyes and hated myself. It looked cheap. Silly. Like something a child would do. All I could think was that I’d ruined everything. I’d thought Blake might be happy, coming home to a house that looked like Christmas, but I’d got everything so wrong.
She was beautiful, perfect, exactly the kind of woman who knew how to exist in the world. I was just the help. Not even that—I was a mess, a burden, someone who didn’t know her place. I should have known. Mom and Dad had never wanted me, so why on earth would someone as gorgeous as Blake be interested?
But then I knew he wasn’t. He’d been crystal clear last night. He was a good man and had felt sorry for me, and I’d overstayed my welcome. It hurt so much but it shouldn't. I pressed my face into the bunny’s ear and tried not to cry, but it kept coming anyway. Silent, hot, useless. I hated that she’d seen me in mykitten sweater, flour on my face, hair wild. I hated that I’d wanted to make him happy so badly I’d made a fool of myself.
Was this how it was always going to be? Trying so hard, and still getting shoved out of the way by someone shinier, louder, stronger? I tried to remember what Nana would’ve said, but I couldn't hear her voice under my mother’s,"You’re in the way. You’re too much. Grown girls don’t play with toys."
But the bunny was soft in my arms, and Biscuit’s fur was warm under my cheek, and I wished for just a second that I could disappear into them and never come out.
I knew I had to leave. I should pack up the blanket and the bunny and the clothes Blake had given me and just go before he came home and saw what a disaster I’d made of everything. He’d be angry. Not like yelling, but disappointed. That was worse. The thought made me shake all over. I didn’t want to go. Not even a little. I wanted to stay curled up right here, with the lights blinking and the fire popping in the stove and the dog pressed against my leg. I wanted to belong, even if it was only for a little while.
I heard the sound of the bath running. She was really going to be here when Blake came home. I wondered if she’d tell him about the decorations, or about me. I wondered if he’d even care.
I waited. Every minute felt like an hour. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
When I heard the water turn off and the bathroom door close I almost bolted for the bedroom to get my clothes. I took an old plastic bag from the pantry and stuffed it with both sweaters, and the jacket Blake had bought me but preferred I wear his. I stared at the bunny and my fingers itched to take it, but it wasn’t mine. Not really.
