Читать книгу A Gift For Santa - Beth Carpenter - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

Seventeen days till Christmas

WHEN MARISSA CAME downstairs the next morning, Becky was already in the kitchen, stirring pancake batter. A pot of coffee sat ready on the drip machine. Marissa frowned. “Should you be on your feet?”

“I told you, I just twisted my ankle. I’m fine now.” Becky smiled. “Although it was nice to have a handsome man carry me over the threshold.”

“He’s too late. I already carried you over the threshold almost forty years ago.” Oliver chuckled as he made his way to the kitchen table. “Tell Chris to get his own girl.” He settled into his chair and caught his breath.

Becky set a mug full of coffee in front of him and kissed his cheek. “I remember. You carried me into our first apartment.” She returned to the stove and shook a drop of water onto the griddle to test the temperature. “The one with a bedroom so small we had to jump into bed from the doorway, and a bathroom with one pink sink and never enough hot water. But I thought it was beautiful.”

“You made it beautiful.” Oliver sipped his coffee. “Seriously, though, I’m glad Chris was there to give you a hand. He’s a good man.” He sent a pointed look toward Marissa, but mercifully said nothing else.

He didn’t have to. The unspoken question was there. Why did you let him go? But they didn’t know the real Chris. Yes, he was kind and generous, when it suited him. But the occasional grand gesture wasn’t enough to build a life together. Especially when they didn’t want the same things.

She grabbed her coat and slid her feet into boots. “I’m going to see about the chickens. I’ll be back in time for pancakes.”

Marissa slipped out the back door and picked up the basket lying on the stoop. The sun wouldn’t be up for hours yet, but a full moon illuminated the familiar shapes of the trees, shaggy dark spruce and pale white birch trunks. Farther back, the barn, the well house and the chicken coop formed a tiny village, while the reindeer milled around in their pen. The scene was beautiful, cozy and welcoming, until she got close enough to trigger the floodlights. Instantly, the sagging boards, peeling paint and hundred-and-one chores that needed to be done popped out at her.

She should make a plan. List all the things that needed repair and prioritize them. Get supplies and bids. That was how she always tackled problems. She’d learned early, and from the best. When Marissa’s parents died in that accident, she’d been terrified, not knowing what would happen. But then Becky and Oliver came, and Becky showed her how they could move forward step by step. First, the funeral. Then packing up the house. Moving her things. Enrolling in a new school. As long as she took it one step at a time, she could cope.