Читать книгу This Holiday Magic: A Gift from the Heart / Mine by Christmas / A Family for Christmas - Janice Sims - Страница 14

Chapter 8

Having received Mrs. Ivers’s message, Tyson immediately cut his workday short and headed home. He wasn’t getting much done anyway. Ever since his conversation with Janelle earlier that morning, all he could think about was her and the kiss they’d shared. He wanted to be with her, but he knew it wasn’t the right time for them to be together. He also knew that it had been the right thing to do to tell her about her father, but seeing her so upset had nearly broken his heart.

He had tried to call her a few times to make sure she was okay. But then getting the message that she was with Aneka was the best news all day.

He wanted Janelle and Aneka to get to know each other. Aneka, having lost her parents so young, barely remembered them. She called Tyson “Dad,” but knew about her father and mother. She was a wonderful little girl, but often closed herself off with those she didn’t know. He hoped one day she and Janelle would grow to love each other like mother and daughter.

As soon as he walked into the house, he heard music playing, joyous laughter and loud singing coming from the kitchen. “Hello,” he called out. There was no answer.

An instant later Aneka came running around the corner and right at him, her hands and face powdered with flour. “Daddy!” she squealed with joy.

Tyson leaned down and picked her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck, talking excitedly about her day.

“Hey, hey, look at you,” Tyson said. His suit jacket was instantly covered with flour and frosting, but he didn’t mind at all. Still holding his daughter, he continued to the kitchen, seeing Janelle place a decorated cookie on a plate with several others. “Hello,” he said as Aneka continued talking. “What in the world do we have here?” Tyson chuckled, seeing the kitchen in a complete mess.

“Hey, you’re early. We didn’t expect you for another few hours,” she said.

“We’re making cookies, see?” Aneka said happily.

“Yes, I can certainly see that,” he said, chuckling at the mess in the kitchen and at her face sprinkled with flour. “It looks like you’ve been having fun,” he added as he set Aneka down. She hurried back to the kitchen table and continued icing a cookie with a plastic spoon. “What kind of cookies are you making?”

“Christmas-ball cookies,” Aneka said proudly, holding her half-frosted cookie up to show her father.

“Yes, I see. They look delicious. May I have one?”