The Christmas Gift

“How about Bob?” Rayna asked, referring to the woman’s husband.

Mimi laughed. “Scoreless, the same as always. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were too busy at the dentist’s office to come to the games.”

Rayna wouldn’t be here today, either, if she didn’t need to get Trey alone, a nearly impossible feat. He lived in a house with three other guys, one of whom was always around.

“The office closed early today,” Rayna said. “I stopped by to remind Trey he’s supposed to come Christmas caroling tonight with my family.”

“Smart girl,” Mimi said. “There’s already talk of going drinking after the game. You’ve got to keep your guy in check. That’s why I’m here.”

A tremendous shout erupted from the ice. Arms up-raised, Trey stood in front of the net and a sprawling goalie. The referee signaled a good goal with a tomahawk chop of his arm. Trey’s teammates on the ice mobbed him with hugs.

“Applaud,” Mimi told her. “That way Trey will think you saw him score the winning goal.”

Less than a minute remained in the game. The trailing team pulled its goalie to get an extra skater on the ice, but this was low-level ice hockey. The offensive players weren’t skilled enough to keep control of the puck. The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game.

Trey let out a victory whoop. He skated past Rayna, stick raised in the air. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. While Trey went through the postgame handshake line, Rayna walked to the spot where the players came off the ice.

Trey finished shaking hands with the opposing team members first and skated full tilt toward her, executing a hockey stop before he reached the exit. Ice shards sprayed in the air.

“Woooo-hoooo!” he cried.

He stepped onto the threadbare carpet. Trey wasn’t the best-looking man Rayna had ever dated, but his looks were compelling. Thick brown hair, blue eyes that danced with excitement, well-shaped lips that were almost always smiling.

Rayna thought she’d fallen in love the first time she’d seen him, when he’d sauntered into the dentist’s office for a checkup.

“Did you see that goal?” Trey yelled.

Before she could answer, Trey bent down, swept her into his arms and kissed her. She had to stand on tiptoe because in his skates, he was about three inches taller than normal. His cool lips sent hot sensation sweeping through her—nothing new. She always reacted to him that way. She never wanted his kisses to stop, either, though they inevitably did.

“Mimi said you had two goals today,” Rayna said.

“It was a good day at the office!” Trey didn’t actually work at an office. He was twenty-two, a year older than Rayna but not as sure what to do with his life. He was currently working as a manager at a trendy clothing store and talking about going to bartending school. Sometimes when Alex and his father were particularly busy, Trey helped out at Costas Landscaping.

“I’ll shower and change clothes,” Trey said. “Wait for me, okay?”

“Sure.” Rayna moved toward the now-empty bleachers and took a seat. She wasn’t sure where Mimi was but Trey had stopped outside the locker room to drink at the water fountain.

Trey’s teammates skated off the ice, laughing and talking. None of them looked toward the bleachers, probably because they typically had so few fans in attendance.

“You’re really not coming with us, Bob?” the stockiest player asked Mimi’s husband.

“Can’t,” Bob said. “Mimi has plans.”

“Cancel ’em,” the stocky guy said. “A guy should do what a guy wants to do.”

“Unless he’s married. Then he’s screwed,” another of the players joked as they duck-walked on their ice skates to the locker room. Trey held the door open for them. “You’re coming with us, right, Trey?”

“Damn straight,” Trey answered.

“Your girlfriend won’t mind?”

“She’s cool,” Trey said as he disappeared inside the locker room. Rayna could just make out his next words. “We’re not serious or anything.”

“But—” Rayna started to protest but nobody could hear her. She probably wouldn’t have finished the sentence anyway. If Trey didn’t want to go caroling tonight, she wouldn’t force him.

Not after finding out he wasn’t serious about her.

Rayna got up and headed for the exit, vaguely crossing paths with Mimi. She called to her friend to let Trey know she’d had to leave, then rushed out of the arena, tears already streaming down her face.

She wouldn’t tell Trey she was pregnant, either.

CHAPTER FOUR

IN ALL HER YEARS OF caroling, Krista had never heard a more off-key rendition of “Silent Night.”

Not everybody in their group of eight was hitting sour notes. Krista, her mother and her grandmother could sing a little. Charlie Crosby had a pleasing baritone, Milo Costas was more or less on key and the neighbors who’d joined them were mainstays in the church choir.

That left Alex.

He was singing about sleeping in heavenly peace, confidently belting out the word peace so it sounded as though it had two syllables.

The elderly man and woman just inside the threshold had been smiling since they opened the door to a care basket and a choir. The man’s smile grew. He laughed. The woman poked him in the side with her elbow.

Mirth rose from Krista’s diaphragm, begging for release. She stopped singing and clamped her hand over her mouth. Her chest rose and fell in silent guffaws.

The song ended, and the couple applauded. The elderly man caught Krista’s eye and winked.

Alex was standing next to Krista at the rear of the group. He edged closer and whispered, “Are you and that man laughing at me?”

Krista removed her gloved hand from her mouth to issue a denial, leaving nothing to hold back the laughter. It burst forth, like a car horn. She swallowed it back, only half-successfully.

“No,” she said on a half giggle.

“Yes, you were.” Alex placed a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”

“You sounded like it when you were singing,” Krista quipped in a voice only loud enough for Alex to hear and broke into more laughter.

The flat line of Alex’s lips crinkled. Then he laughed, too.

“Shall we sing another carol?” Krista’s mother sent Krista and Alex a withering look. “Mr. and Mrs. Dombrowski enjoy the religious ones.”

Krista clamped her lips together. So did Alex. They exchanged a guilty look, and Krista felt about ten years old. She giggled again. Her mother looked more stern.

“Let’s do ‘Angels We Have Heard on High,’” Grandma Novak suggested.

Krista caught Alex’s eye and placed a shushing finger to her lips. “Not as loud this time. It’s okay to hear the angels, but not you,” she whispered.

“Smart aleck,” he said without heat.