A Family Christmas

Rose picked at the green flecks on her palms. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” She felt Evan’s direct gaze on her, like a hot ray of sunshine. “But Krissa’s death was mainly Lucy’s loss. My wife had left me and we were in the middle of divorce proceedings when she found out she had a brain tumor. When the prognosis wasn’t good, she came back home to spend all the time with Lucy that she could.”

“Still, I’m sure you—you must have been—” Rose shrugged when the words stalled again. She wasn’t articulate. Too many years on her own.

“I’m doing okay. It’s Lucy I worry about.”

“She seems like a normal kid.”

“Around you, she is.”

Why me? Rose was truly baffled. She wasn’t even remotely similar to Tess Bucek, whom children flocked to like chicks to a mother hen. The kids that came in the Buck Stop acted as if Rose was a wicked witch who’d seize them for her stew pot if they got too close.

If she’d ever had them, and her situation made that doubtful, her motherly instincts had withered and died long ago. Wild Rose Robbin was the last person Evan should want near his daughter.

“I can’t do it,” she blurted.

“Why not? I mean, if you don’t want to, there’s nothing I can say. I won’t push.” He paused. “But I might beg. For Lucy. She really needs this.”

“I can’t,” Rose repeated miserably. Part of her wanted to. She identified with Lucy’s fears.

“Give it a try,” Evan pleaded. “One lesson.” He put out a hand and touched Rose, his strong fingers gripping her shoulder.

Startled, she pulled away, heart in mouth. She had to stop herself from bolting to prove she wasn’t a total freak. She could deal with normal touching—hand-shakes, pats, rubbing shoulders in a busy supermarket. It was an unexpected male touch that made her adrenaline pump, even when it was a friendly gesture like Evan’s.

He had withdrawn immediately. “Sorry.”

She scrambled to her feet and busied herself with brushing off her jeans, shedding grass like an Easter basket. “Not your problem.”

He got up. “Excuse me if I’ve been an imposition—”

“No, you weren’t,” she said, an unexpected rush of compassion making her want to overcome her fears to reach out. For his daughter, if not for him. “I wish I could help.”

She tipped up her chin. Read the look in his eyes.

He didn’t have to say it. She already knew. She could help, if she really wanted to.

Be generous, she thought. The good karma might come back to you.

Danny’s face flashed in her mind’s eye. Was it possible to develop the motherly instincts she lacked?

She blinked. “All right. Okay. I’ll give it a shot. One time, to see how it goes. But don’t expect me to know what I’m doing.” She rubbed her palms on her jeans, sweating with nervousness at the mere prospect. “Let’s not even call it a lesson. That sounds as if I’d have to come with a plan. Lucy and I can just get together—”

“Thank you.” Impulsively, Evan started to reach out to hug her, but he stopped with his large hands hanging in midair. After a moment of hesitation, he thrust one toward her. “I appreciate this.”

She swallowed thickly and shook his hand, pumping vigorously to show him again that she wasn’t a complete coward. “I make no promises.”

“I do.” Evan looked at her with more confidence and belief than she’d accumulated in her entire lifetime. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

Rose had to turn away from such a bright, bold faith. It left her feeling so empty. “Yeah, well, let’s hope—” She choked off her words. Let’s hope you don’t, either.

“Hope for the best,” Evan said.

Rose nodded.

CHAPTER FOUR

“CAN I BORROW your phone, Mom?”

“Sure.” Maxine sat at the dining table, laying out a hand of solitaire. When Rose had wiped down the table minutes before, she’d seen her mother surreptitiously stick an ashtray and book of matches on the seat of one of the chairs, hidden by the vinyl tablecloth. “Who you calling?”

“Just a friend.” Rose had put the last dish away, squeezed out the sponge, stowed the leftovers. She couldn’t stall any longer. It had been several days, and Evan was expecting her to set up a date for the drawing lesson.

“What kind of friend?”

“That’s my business.”

“My phone.” Maxine’s lips curled into a smug so-there.

Rose might have pointed out that she’d just cooked dinner and cleaned up, in addition to the rest of her daily chores. But she didn’t. She swallowed her tongue the way her mother had been forced to when Black Jack was in one of his moods.

Get me out of here, she thought, taking the cordless phone outside to the dusky backyard, as far as the range allowed. Behind her, the window near the dining table opened with a screech of the sash. Her mother must have had a burst of strength to go along with her nosiness.

Rose’s exhale was visible in the cold air. Frost tonight. She wrapped her sweater tighter and punched out Evan’s number—memorized. He’d written it on the back of a scrap of paper from his wallet and asked her to call as soon as she was certain of her work schedule. She hadn’t told him that she was in charge at the Buck Stop and could arrange any hours she liked as long as the time was covered by the store’s only other employee, a grumpy retiree aptly named Cross who worked to pick up extra income to supplement his social security.

The phone was ringing. “Hullo,” Evan said, harried but cheerful. “Grant residence.”

A match flared inside the house. Rose realized she should have called from work, but all she’d been thinking was to get it over with already.

“Hello?”

It was strange, hearing Evan’s voice on the phone. Familiar, but not. Slightly thrilling.

“Anyone there?”

“Hello,” she finally said. She cleared her throat. “It’s Rose. Robbin. Rose Robbin.”

“Rose. Good to hear from you. Lucy’s been asking about the lesson every day—she’s very excited.”

“I, uh, the store’s been busy lately.”

“I hope you’re not backing out.”

“No. I can be free any afternoon the rest of this week.”

“Well, let’s see. Lucy gets out of school at three and usually goes to her baby-sitter’s house while I have basketball practice. I could probably take time off to run her out to your place—”

“Not my place.” Rose thought frantically, struck by the notion that if she worked it right, she might be able to catch sight of a few minutes of the basketball practice. “I could come to the school, and stay with Lucy while you ran the practice. That way you won’t need the baby-sitter at all.”