Читать книгу Her Christmas Wedding Wish - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 8

MOLLY discovered her desire for Richard’s arrival wasn’t a good thing.

“What have you done to my mother?” he demanded roughly as soon as he reached them.

“I didn’t do anything to your mother. Toby asked an innocent question, that’s all.”

She regretted that comment, too, because the man immediately turned to glare at the boy.

When they announced the boarding of the first-class passengers, Molly immediately stood and returned Mrs. Anderson’s ticket to her son. “Toby and I will go ahead and board.”

After they were seated on the plane, Toby by the window, he leaned over and asked in a whisper, “Did I make her cry?”

“Not really, sweetie. I guess she’s still emotional about your mommy. After all, your mommy was her little girl.”

“Oh.”

Toby tensed and Molly looked up to see Richard and his mother entering the plane. Their seats, it appeared, were across the aisle from her and Toby.

Richard nodded in her direction, but she said nothing. Perhaps he would continue to blame her for his mother’s tears. She didn’t know, but she didn’t see how she could be expected to have realized Toby’s question would’ve brought that intense reaction.

There was no more conversation between them. Toby, much to Molly’s relief, fell asleep after the first hour. Molly pulled out a novel she’d been reading and passed the time that way. When the pilot announced their approach to the airport, she woke Toby.

“The plane is landing. Don’t you want to see where you’re going to live?”

“Can you see it from the airplane?” Toby asked in surprise.

Molly chuckled. She’d already discovered Toby was very literal. “No, honey, I just meant you could see the area. You’ll see your new home later.”

“I miss my old home,” Toby said sadly.

Molly hugged him to her, as much as the seat belts allowed. “I know you do. But you’ll like this one, too, I’m sure.” She hoped she wasn’t lying.

“Okay,” Toby whispered.

She held his hand while the plane landed and then taxied to the gate. Since he’d brought nothing on board with him, they were ready to exit the plane at once. When Richard indicated they should go ahead, Molly led Toby off the plane and to their baggage claim. She was sure the Andersons were right behind them, but she didn’t turn to look for them, not wanting to give Richard that satisfaction.

Then that deep voice came over her shoulder. “If you’ll point out your bags, Molly, I’ll get them off the carousel.”

“Thank you. They haven’t come by yet.”

When she saw her bags, along with Toby’s, she pointed them out. A skycap loaded them on his pushcart.

“Molly, will you keep an eye on Toby and my mother while I go get my car?”

She heard the words not said. “And please don’t make my mother cry.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied.

Molly led them to a bench where they could sit until Richard arrived with the car.

Much to her surprise, he pulled up in a medium-size SUV and got out, opening the back for the luggage. She had assumed he’d drive a Mercedes or a Lexus, since he was supposed to be rich. After she got Mrs. Anderson and Toby settled, she followed him into the back seat.

“Thank you for getting them loaded,” Richard said as he slid behind the wheel.

“Thank you for loading the luggage.” It seemed the only polite thing to say in response to his remark. Had he thought she’d remain standing on the sidewalk, unable to move without his guidance?

He flashed her a look in the rearview mirror. She smiled, determined to let him know she wasn’t bothered by his attitude.

She turned her attention to the sights outside her window, pointing out interesting things to Toby.

“Where’s the ocean?” Toby whispered.

“Um, I don’t think there is an ocean nearby, Toby.”

Toby appeared startled. “They don’t have an ocean?”

“Actually, we do,” Richard said over his shoulder, “but it’s on the southern part of the state, which is about five or six hours away.”

“Oh,” Toby said softly.

“Did you go to the ocean a lot?” his uncle asked.

“Yes, with Mommy,” Toby said.

“Susan always liked the ocean,” Mrs. Anderson said, surprising everyone.

“Yes, Mom, she did.”

No one spoke after that exchange.

When they got off the freeway, they turned into a neighborhood with large houses and big trees. The house whose driveway they pulled into was the biggest of them all. Both Molly and Toby stared at it in surprise.

Richard looked over his shoulder. “You can get out now. We’re home.”

Toby turned to look at Molly, panic on his face.

Molly squeezed his hand. “It’s all right,” she whispered, but she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. The house was huge, but the stone façade made it look cold and unwelcoming. The air, too, was cold and windy, furthering the impression.

Molly was going to have to buy a coat. Good thing she was earning a lot of money on this job.

Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “Come on, Toby. It’ll be fun. We can explore.”

She helped the little boy out of the vehicle and shivered as a cold wind blew.

“Hurry inside so you’ll be warm,” Richard said.

Since they parked in the driveway beside the side entrance, Molly assumed he meant that door. She opened the door and led Toby inside. They were standing in a small entryway next to the kitchen.

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement as three people rushed forward. Toby pressed against Molly, but the male and two female strangers passed them by and greeted the Andersons.

The younger woman took Mrs. Anderson by the arm and led her away. The man, tall and wiry, was sent to the vehicle to bring in the luggage. Richard consulted with the other woman.

Molly and Toby stood there, not sure what they were supposed to do.

Richard stepped toward them. “I’ll show you your rooms if you’ll follow me.”

Molly nodded and followed him, Toby clinging tightly to her hand. No wonder. He had sounded as remote as a hotel employee. They went up a grand stairway to the second floor. He turned left and led them down the hall to two rooms side by side.

“These rooms are actually connected by a door inside. I thought you might want to leave the door open the first few nights Toby is here, Molly, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t. That’s a good idea, right, Toby?”

Richard opened a door. “This will be your room, Toby.”

Molly walked into the room with the little boy. “This is great, isn’t it, Toby? You have a lot of windows and you can look at the garden behind the house. When it’s warmer, you may be able to play there.”

The man nodded. “Of course.” Then he crossed to another door and opened it. “This will be your room, Molly.”

It was beautiful, not what she expected. She laughed to herself as she realized nannies were housed in the attic only in gothic novels.

“Thank you, it’s lovely, Richard.”

He frowned, as if she’d said something wrong. What could it have been? She’d smiled at him, trying to be gracious.

“Yes, well, I need to see about my mother. If you need anything, please ask Delores or Louisa. They’ll be glad to help you.”

So they’d already been handed off to the staff. Molly nodded in response, but she didn’t say anything. If she’d spoken, she might’ve said the wrong thing. The man had been kind to Toby when he’d shown him the room, but it was clear he was going about his business as usual.

One thing was certain: Richard Anderson did not have a kind heart.

One thing was certain: Richard was irritated with Molly. Condemnation fairly glowed in her green eyes. He had a lot of things on his plate. He’d brought her here to help Toby settle in okay. That was her job. And he wasn’t going to be chastised for doing his job by someone he’d hired.

He shook his head as he went to the other end of the house where his mother’s suite was located. Tapping lightly on the door, he stood waiting for it to open.

Louisa came to the door.

“I’d like to see my mother. Is she asleep?” he asked.

“No, sir.” Louisa stepped aside and swung the door wide. Then she silently made her way out.

Richard took the chair opposite his mother, in a sitting room professionally done in southwestern decor. He noticed she looked tired, drawn, much the same as she’d looked for the past year and a half. The depression had taken its toll on her. And now, the funeral.

Before he could speak, she said, “You know, Richard, ever since the incident between Susan and your father, I’ve regretted her leaving. But never like I regret it now.” She looked up and there were tears in her eyes. “She ran away because of your father—but I had nine years to make it right and never did. I was too afraid to cross him.” The tears spilled down her cheeks now as she said, “And after he died, I was too distraught and depressed to make the move. I thought I had more time…”

Richard reached out and took her hands in his, rubbing the tops of her hands with his thumb. Her skin was soft and firm, and he realized as he looked at her just how lovely a woman she was. Elizabeth Anderson had once been in the Dallas social scene, a benefactor, an organizer, a supporter of the arts. She had a closet full of designer gowns and suits for the variety of functions she’d attended and chaired. But in the last eighteen months she’d spent most of her time right here in this room. Had he done enough to help her through her hard time?

He could certainly help now.

“You know, Mom, the incident had nothing to do with you.” Funny, he thought, how they referred to it—“the incident.” As if giving it a generic name made it more ephemeral, less real. But the day Susan walked out couldn’t have been more real. He remembered it as if it were yesterday, though it was almost a decade ago. It was the day everything changed.

Susan and their father, James, had always butted heads. He was an autocrat and Susan a free spirit—a doomed combination. When James laid down a law, he expected it enacted, but his sister had a hard time conforming; she was confident and eager and resented her father’s strict hand. But that didn’t deter James. He tried to control everything: her clothes, her friends, her studies. But the day he’d tried to control her heart was the end. He’d found out she was seeing a young man behind his back, a young man from a working-class family who was studying to become a teacher. Kevin Astin was far from the rich, privileged, connected man James had wanted for Susan. He gave her an ultimatum: ditch him or get out.

Susan opted for the latter. In an hour she’d packed her bags and left Highland Park for good. In nine years she hadn’t ever been back.

She moved to Florida with Kevin, whom she married almost immediately. And a year later they had Toby. The nephew Richard had never seen until yesterday.

In the intervening years he’d spoken to Susan twice, and his mother never, both fearful of James Anderson’s wrath. Not that he’d ever been physical with them; but his disapproval took other forms, equally distasteful. Somehow it had just seemed easier to agree with him, or at least conform to him.

Richard realized he was equally to blame. Nothing, no one, should have kept him from his sister, kept Elizabeth from her daughter. But there was nothing either of them could do now, except pray for forgiveness. And care for Toby.

He told his mother all that, and she listened to him. After a while her tears stopped, her sobs turned into steady, even breathing. She held his hand and almost mystically he could feel her pain exiting. He knew nothing could ever erase the agony she’d suffered, but Elizabeth was on the way to recovery.

They talked about Susan, about what they remembered, about what they’d heard of her recent life at the funeral. Richard realized this felt more like a funeral than what they’d endured in Florida. This was a memorial to Susan Anderson Astin, who would live forever in their hearts, where she belonged.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Richard. But I do know what I intend to do.” She stood up and looked around. “I intend to get out of the prison I’ve made of this room and start living again. The way Susan would want me to. And I intend to care for her son.”

“That’s the Elizabeth Anderson I know.” Richard hugged her and she held him tight, conveying her gratitude in the maternal embrace.

“Now, Mom, I have to get to the office. I’ll try my best to get home in time for dinner.” For the first time in over a year, when he closed her bedroom door he knew his mother would be okay.

And so would he.

He walked back downstairs to the kitchen, where their cook, Delores, ruled. Now nearing fifty, the Mexican-American woman had worked for the Andersons for decades, as had her husband, Albert.

“Delores, I’m going to the office for a couple of hours. If the nurse or the child needs anything, please take care of them.”

“Yes, sir, Richard.”

Richard’s law firm was located downtown, very close to their neighborhood, Highland Park, an exclusive area. It only took a few minutes to reach the parking garage connected to the building where the law firm had offices.

As expected, he found a pile of messages and mail on his desk that his secretary had sorted and opened for him. After dealing with those matters, he asked his secretary to gather the partners in his office for a quick briefing. Then there was a list of phone calls to be returned. By the time he’d finished half the calls, he put aside the rest of them for the morning and packed up to go home.

He’d probably already missed dinner. Normally he made it home for dinner at least three nights a week, or else his mother ate her meal upstairs in her suite.

Tonight, when he got home, he found the dinner table set for four. “No one’s eaten yet?” he asked Delores as he came in.

“Your mother requested we wait for you.”

“The boy didn’t get too hungry?”

“No, sir. I gave Toby and Molly a snack about five.”

“Thanks, Delores. Please call them down to dinner.”

He carried his briefcase to his office, stepped into the connecting bath and washed his hands. Then he came back to the dining room.

Molly and Toby were standing there, seemingly unsure of where they should sit.

“Good evening. I hope your afternoon was relaxing?”

Molly nudged the boy. He said, “Yes, sir.”

“Good, Toby. And you, Molly? Did you have a pleasant afternoon?” He was determined to show no prejudice to her.

“Yes, I did, Richard, thank you. We’re all unpacked and we’ve familiarized ourselves with the house and your staff. They’re all very nice.”

“Yes, we’re most fortunate,” Richard said with a smile. “But it doesn’t sound like your afternoon was very restful.”

Molly raised her gaze to his. “Neither of us needed rest. Toby was curious about his new home. Albert even gave us a tour of the backyard after we unpacked.”

“Weren’t you cold? I noticed you didn’t wear a coat on the trip.”

“No, neither of us has a coat because it didn’t get that cold in Florida. But Albert promised to drive us to a store to buy coats tomorrow.”

“Good. I’ll be glad to pay for them.”

“If you insist, you can pay for Toby’s. I’ll pay for mine.”

Richard frowned. He wasn’t used to such resistance.

“Richard?” His mother stood at the door of the dining room.

He crossed over to take her hand and lead her to the table after kissing her cheek. “Hello, Mother. It was kind of you to wait for me to get home.”

“I wanted our first meal to be a family one,” Elizabeth Anderson said.

“Then let’s all sit down,” he suggested. He showed his mother to the seat at the head of the table. He indicated Toby and Molly should take the two seats to her left. As they did so, he sat in the chair to his mother’s right.

Once they were seated, Elizabeth rang the small bell sitting beside her plate. Almost immediately, the kitchen door opened and Louisa entered with a tray. She carefully set a bowl of soup in front of each of them.

Toby leaned over to Molly and whispered, “What is this?”

Richard, hiding a grin, said, “It’s broccoli cheese soup, Toby, one of my mother’s favorites.” He was feeling relieved that things were going so well. He’d gone to the office and his mother had rested, and the nurse had taken care of the boy, as he’d planned.

“Oh. Uh, it looks good.”

“Very nice manners, Toby. Your mother would be proud of you,” Richard said softly. He didn’t want to upset his mother, but Susan deserved her due.

Instead of bursting into tears as she normally would have done upon mention of Susan, his mother smiled faintly. Their talk had indeed helped her. “Yes, I believe she did a good job teaching Toby proper behavior.”

“I agree, Mrs. Anderson,” Molly chimed in. “I can’t wait to try the soup. I haven’t gotten used to this cold weather yet.”

Richard laughed. “It doesn’t get that cold here, Molly. Now in Colorado, this would be late spring weather.”

“Where is Colorado?” Toby asked.

“It’s a state north of here where a lot of Texans go to ski.”

“Water-ski?” Toby asked.

“No, Toby, snow skiing.”

“With real snow? I’ve never seen snow, except on TV,” the boy confessed.

“Maybe after you get your casts off, we can fly to Colorado and try some snow skiing,” Richard suggested.

“I’d like that!” Toby said in excitement. “Would you like that, Molly?”

“I’m sure it would be fun, Toby, but I’ll probably be back at work by then.”

Richard watched the enthusiasm fade from the little boy’s face.

“But you could send me pictures of you skiing. That would be wonderful. You might even build a snowman for me.”

“Could we do that?” Toby asked, looking at Richard.

“Sure, Toby, we could do that.”

“Right now, though, you need to eat your soup before it gets cold,” Molly said with a smile.

Richard watched her. While some people would have been overwhelmed by the quick transition, the gamut of emotions and personalities, Molly kept her composure. And she was wonderful with Toby. Now she not only offered a way for Toby to share his excitement with her, but she’d reminded him of his behavior.

The boy at once picked up his spoon and tried the soup. Then he looked at his grandmother. “The soup is very good.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it? We’ll have to tell Delores what a good job she’s done,” Elizabeth said, smiling at Toby.

“Am I supposed to call you Grandma?” Toby asked.

“Yes, I think that’s what you should call me. Do you mind?” Elizabeth asked with more energy than she’d shown in months.

Richard stared at his mother. She looked better already, a gleam in her blue eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time. He knew it would take time for her to regain her old self, but she was on her way. After all, she’d barely recovered from his father’s death eighteen months ago, when she’d learned of Susan’s death. Somehow, when he’d expected her to give up on life, she seemed to have found a new lease on it. Still, he’d have to keep a close watch on her to make sure she didn’t overdo it.

When they finished their soup, Elizabeth rang her bell again and Louisa came in to remove their bowls. Albert followed with a large serving tray.

Richard drew in a deep breath of roast beef perfectly cooked with attending vegetables. He smiled at Louisa. It was his favorite meal. “Thank Delores for me, Louisa.”

“Yes, sir,” Louisa said with a grin.

They were all enjoying their meal when Toby asked a question that got their attention. “Don’t you have a Christmas tree?”

Elizabeth assured him they did. It was in the living room.

“But I didn’t see it today.”

“You may have missed the living room, dear. It’s the room by the front door. Some people call it a parlor.”

“I don’t think we went in that room, Toby,” Molly said softly.

“You would remember it if you saw it, Toby,” Elizabeth continued. “It’s silver with gold balls on it. It’s quite striking.”

“No, Grandma, Christmas trees are green, not silver.”

“Toby, some trees aren’t real,” Molly hurriedly explained. “They’re made out of other things.”

Toby looked puzzled. “Why?”

Molly looked at Richard, a clear plea for assistance.

“Real trees are messy, Toby. Plus, if you have an artificial tree, you can reuse it every year.”

“Is that good, Molly?” Toby asked.

“For some people it is.”

“I like green trees,” Toby asserted. Then tears glistened in his eyes as he continued, “Me and Mommy and Daddy decorated our tree with all our favorite ornaments.”

Molly leaned over and whispered something in Toby’s ear and the little boy tried to wipe away the tears.

“Mrs. Anderson,” Molly asked, “would there be a room where Toby could have a green tree this year? As a sort of memorial to his parents?”

Richard spoke up. “My mother can’t—”

“Yes, I think we could do that,” Elizabeth said at the same time.

“Mother, I don’t think you can take on that task. It will be too much for you.”

“It wouldn’t be, Richard, if you’d help.”

The other two were sitting quietly, watching the conversation between him and his mother. Richard almost groaned aloud. He had too much to do as it was. But he could tell his mother wanted to make the effort for her grandson.

“All right, Mother. In what room would you like to put the green tree?”

“I think my sitting room would do. Then we could enjoy it all day long.”

“Of course you could, if you want an eight-year-old running in and out.”

Molly spoke up. “Toby and I came across a garden room with a tiled floor and some pretty durable furniture in it. Wouldn’t that be a good room for a real tree, so the pine needles won’t stick in the carpet?” She looked at Richard.

“We don’t use that room often in the winter. Do you think that would be a good idea, Richard?” Elizabeth asked her son.

“I’m sure it would be fine, Mom. Albert can take Molly and Toby out to find a tree tomorrow, if they want.”

Toby frowned. “But the daddy always comes to carry the tree and tie it on the roof of the car.”

Richard smiled. “We don’t have a daddy here, Toby. I promise Albert can carry the tree for you. He’s very strong.”

“No, I think Toby is right,” Elizabeth spoke with more authority than Richard had heard from her since he was a small boy himself.

“Right about what, Mom?” he asked.

“I think we should go as a family. That’s what we did when you were a little boy. When you get home tomorrow evening, we’ll go find a tree.” She nodded, as if to punctuate her statement.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get home, Mom. I missed two days of work.”

“Richard, I don’t think you should miss buying the tree. This will be Toby’s first Christmas with us. It’s important.”

Richard sighed, thinking of all the work he had piled up for him when he got to the office in the morning. And now he’d have to get home at a decent hour tomorrow night to go buy a blasted Christmas tree!

“And when will the presents get here?” Toby asked.

“Why, I suppose Santa will bring them Christmas Day,” Elizabeth assured him with a smile.

“No, I mean the presents that were under our tree at home.” Toby turned to Molly. “They will come, won’t they?”

“I don’t know, honey. I’m sure they’ll get here sometime, but it might not be before Christmas.”

“But they have to! I think Mommy wrapped up my puppy!”