“I found out when I was in high school that Ned Fryberg made a point of granting the low-income kids’ wishes,” she said. “But when I was six or seven, it felt like magic.”
“At six or seven, everything seems like magic,” James replied. Noelle could feel his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. Unconsciously, probably, but the caress still comforted. “But then you grow up and stop believing.”
“In Santa Claus maybe. Doesn’t mean you have to stop believing in holiday magic. I believe that special things can happen at Christmastime. Like Ned making sure kids got their gifts. People come together during the holidays.”
She waited for James to chuckle, and give her one of his cynical retorts. When none came, she looked up and saw him staring at the manger with sad, faraway eyes. “They also rip apart,” he said in a low voice.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAMES’S WORDS—or rather the way he said them—caught her in the midsection. Taking her free hand, she placed it on top of his, so that he was caught in her grasp. “Ripped apart how?” she asked.
“My parents broke up on Christmas,” he replied. “Christmas Eve actually. I woke up on Christmas morning and my mother and my little brother were gone. Moved out.”
“Just like that? Without a word?”
“Not to me.”
Wow. Noelle couldn’t imagine. At least she’d been a newborn when her mother dropped her off. Unable to notice the loss. “How old were you?”
“Twelve. Justin, my brother, was ten.”
Definitely old enough to understand. She tried to picture James coming downstairs that Christmas morning and discovering his world had changed. “I’m sorry,” she said, squeezing his hand. The words were inadequate, but she couldn’t think of anything else.
“It wasn’t a complete surprise. Whenever my parents got together it was a drunken screamfest. Mom liked her whiskey. Especially during the holidays,” he said with a half smile. “And Justin had always been her favorite, so...” He shrugged. Noelle was beginning to realize it was his way of shaking it off whenever the moment got heavy. Or in this case, touched too close to a nerve.
“I’m sure she would have...” She stopped, realizing how foolish what she was going to say sounded. Mothers didn’t always want their children; she of all people should know that. “Her loss,” she said instead.
The right side of James’s mouth curved upward. “From the woman who’s only known me for seventy-two hours. And disliked me for at least twenty-four of them,” he added, his smile stretching to both sides.
“Meaning I’ve warmed up to you for forty-eight. Besides,” she added, giving a shrug of her own, “I don’t have to know you for a long time to realize your mother missed out on knowing you. Same as my mother. Far as I’m concerned, they both didn’t recognize what they had.”
He squeezed her hand. Even trapped between her hands, his grip was sure and firm. Noelle felt it all the way up her arm and down to her toes. “Are you always this positive?” he asked.
“Me? Positive?” She laughed. “Only by necessity.”
She let her gaze travel to the nativity set again. “For a long time, I dreamed about my mom coming back. She didn’t have to take me away with her...”
“Just tell you why she left you behind.”
Noelle nodded. He understood. “But she didn’t. So, what else can I do but focus on being happy without her? Best revenge and all that, right?”
“You’re right,” James said. A chill struck her as he pulled his hand free from hers. Before the shiver could take true hold, however, gloved fingers were gripping her chin, and gently lifting her face skyward. James’s eyes had a sheen to them as he smiled down at her. “Your mom lost out. Big time.”
It might have been the nicest thing a man—anyone really—had ever said to her. While the Frybergs—and Kevin, of course—complimented her, they always made a point of avoiding any mention of her mother. For as long as she’d known them, her past had been the great elephant in the room. Known but not spoken aloud.
She’d had no idea how good having her past acknowledged could feel. “Yours did too,” she said, meaning it. “Your brother might be a modern-day saint for all I know, but your mom still missed out. On the plus side, though, at least your father didn’t.”
He dropped his hand away. “That, I’m afraid is debatable.”
While he sounded self-deprecating, she’d clearly said the wrong thing. There was a cloud over his features that hadn’t been there before. It made Noelle’s stomach hurt. “I’m...”