Page 8 of I'll Be Home For Christmas

The tears came faster. She’d loved her students. Seeing their bright, eager, shiny faces each morning had been a joy and she loved teaching. And when one of the children asked her to read the story, she hadn’t hesitated. It was a lovely Christmas story, but someone objected and now she was unemployed.

“I’m sorry,” he said patting her on the back.

“My mother insisted we all come home for Christmas this year,” she said sobbing. “I thought my ex had planned to ask me to marry him in front of my family.”

The memory of seeing him this afternoon made the tears come faster. The pain of his deception was almost more than she could bear.

“We were supposed to leave at noon,” she said. “I kept waiting for him to come over. I called him. I texted him, and finally, I drove over to his apartment.”

She cried even harder. That had been mistake number one. You never went over to your boyfriend’s apartment to wait on him, only to discover he was too busy entertaining to let you know he had changed his mind.

Lucas’s hand was on her back and he rubbed in a comforting way. “It’s okay.”

“I had a key to his apartment, and when I walked in, I found him in bed with one of his coworkers. He said he had planned to call me and tell me we were breaking up, but just hadn’t done it because he and Cynthia were in bed having sex.”

She sobbed. “I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. I thought we were happy. He said he loved me and wanted to meet my family. And then I find him in bed with another woman.”

Hiccupping, the tears kept coming. “I’d been waiting for him all afternoon and he’d been in bed with Cynthia. It was after five when I left. Traffic was bad getting out of Billings and then the storm arrived. I was so scared and when I saw the elk standing in the road, I hit the brakes too hard and slid into the snowbank. My car is probably totaled, I have no job, and now no boyfriend. Plus, Christmas with my family can be trying. And yet, my mother wants us all together for the holidays.”

The thought of being around the super twins had her crying even harder. Especially since she thought she would receive an engagement ring for Christmas, and instead, she was stuck in a stranger’s home.

“How can I be happy and cheerful when I just destroyed my life,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said. “You really did have a bad day. But he didn’t respect you. My father raised me to honor and respect women. And that man didn’t do either. You deserve someone much better. You deserve a man who will love you and take care of you and your children. You may not think so right now, but you dodged a bullet. A marital nightmare.”

While his words were comforting, she continued to cry.

“Right now, teachers are so vulnerable and parents don’t realize that without teachers their children are not going to go very far in this world. You need to find a school district that will support you and have your back. You’re teaching the next generation, and you shouldn’t be taken for granted. That school district did you no favors.”

Oh, how she was going to miss her students. She’d loved them. And even the principal, Mrs. Stewart, had cried when she said she had to let her go. The school board was backing the parents even though they believed the book she’d read to her class had not been bad. But they were afraid of the parents and so it was just easier to let her go. Why fight when she could be replaced?

Now her teaching career had a stain on it, though Mrs. Stewart promised to give her glowing reviews. Did the parents not understand what this did to a teacher? Maybe their home lives were the reason, but regardless, she’d cared for each and every one of them.

His arms were wrapped around her and she realized her breasts were crushed against his chest and it felt good. When had the asshat ever held her like this or comforted her like Lucas was? Promised her she would find something better?

She gave a little hiccup, but the tears were finally starting to slow down.

“How is your head feeling?”

“It’s throbbing,” she said, realizing she’d never taken the aspirin.

“Let’s sit you down at the table. I’ll put some antibiotic cream on the gash and give you some aspirin. Then we’ll put an ice pack on it,” he said. “I also need to make certain your eyes aren’t dilated.”

The man was a stranger and yet he’d cared more about her than her ex.

“With as much crying as I’ve done this afternoon, I’m surprised my eyes are still working.”

Leaning back, she saw the wet spot on his pajamas at his shoulder where her tears had flowed. “I’m so sorry. I soaked your shirt.”

He reached out and ran his hand through her hair. “It’s all right. After the day you’ve had, it was probably good for you to have a therapeutic cry. Let’s take care of that wound. Then if you’re hungry, I’ll feed you some soup.”

Taking her by the hand, he led her into the kitchen and guided her to the table. First, he gave her two aspirin and a glass of water. She quickly downed them, hoping they would ease the pounding in her head.

Watching him, he hovered around her.

Reaching into a drawer, he found a small flashlight and gazed into her eyes.

“Your pupils are reactive and dilate, so I think you’re okay,” he said. “But I don’t think you should go to sleep right away. Let’s keep you up for a while to see if you do all right.”

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