Читать книгу Secret Christmas Twins - Lee McClain Tobin - Страница 11
ОглавлениеSunday morning, just after sunrise, Jason followed the smell of coffee into the farmhouse kitchen. He poured himself a cup and strolled around, looking for his grandfather and listening to the morning sounds of Erica and the twins upstairs.
Yesterday had been rough. He’d called their mother overseas—the easier telling, strangely—and then he’d let Papa know about Kimmie. Papa hadn’t cried; he’d just said, “I’m glad Mama wasn’t alive to hear of this.” Then he’d gone out to the barn all day, coming in only to eat a sandwich and go to bed.
Erica and the twins had stayed mostly in the guest room. Jason had made a trip to the vet to get Mistletoe looked over, and then rattled around the downstairs, alone and miserable, battling his own feelings of guilt and failure.
Tough love hadn’t worked. His sister had died alone.
It was sadness times two, especially for his grandfather. And though the old man was healthy, an active farmer at age seventy-eight, Jason still worried about him.
Where was his grandfather now, anyway? Jason looked out the windows and saw a trail broken through newly drifted snow. Papa had gone out to do morning chores without him.
A door opened upstairs, and he heard Erica talking to the twins. Maybe bringing them down for breakfast.
She was too pretty and he didn’t trust her. Coward that he was, he poured his coffee into a travel cup and headed out, only stopping to lace his boots and zip his jacket when he’d closed the door behind him.
Jason approached the big red barn and saw Papa moving around inside. After taking a moment to admire the rosy morning sky crisscrossed by tree limbs, he went inside.
Somehow, Papa had pulled the old red sleigh out into the center of the barn and was cleaning off the cobwebs. In the stalls, the two horses they still kept stomped and snorted.
Papa gave him a half smile and nodded toward the horses. “They know what day it is.”
“What day?”
“You’ve really been gone that long? It’s Sleigh Bell Sunday.”
“You don’t plan on...” He trailed off, because Papa obviously did intend to hitch up the horses and drive the sleigh to church. It was tradition. The first Sunday in December, all the farm families that still kept horses came in by sleigh, if there was anything resembling enough snow to do it. There was a makeshift stable at the church and volunteers to tend the horses, and after church, all the town kids got sleigh rides. The church ladies served hot cider and cocoa and homemade doughnuts, and the choir sang carols.
It was a great event, but Papa already looked tired. “We don’t have to do it this year. Everyone would understand.”
“It’s important to the people in this community.” Papa knelt to polish the sleigh’s runner, adding in a muffled voice, “It was important to your grandmother.”
Jason blew out a sigh, picked up a rag and started cleaning the inside of the old sleigh.
They fed and watered the horses. As they started to pull out the harnesses, Jason noticed the old sleigh bells he and Kimmie had always fought over, each of them wanting to be the one to pin them to the front of the sleigh.
Carefully, eyes watering a little, he hooked the bells in place.
“You know,” Papa said, “this place belongs to you and Kimmie. We set it up so I’m a life tenant, but it’s already yours.”
Jason nodded. He knew about the provisions allowed to family farmers, made to ensure later generations like Jason and Kimmie wouldn’t have to pay heavy inheritance taxes.
“I’m working the farm okay now. But you’ll need to think about the future. There’s gonna come a time when I’m not able.”
“I’m thinking on it.” They’d had this conversation soon after Gran had died, so Jason wondered where his grandfather was going with it.
“I imagine Kimmie left her half to you.”
Oh. That was why. He coughed away the sudden roughness in his throat. “Lawyer’s going to call back tomorrow and go through her will.”
“That’s fine, then.” Papa went to the barn door. “Need a break and some coffee. You finish hitching and pull it up.” He paused, then added, “If you remember how.”
The dig wasn’t lost on Jason. It had been years since he’d driven horses or, for that matter, helped with the farm.
It wasn’t like he’d been eating bonbons or walking on the beach. But he’d definitely let his family down. He had to do better.
By the time he’d figured out the hitches and pulled the sleigh up to the front door of the old white house, Papa was on the porch with a huge armload of blankets. “They’ll be right out,” he said.
“Who?”
“Erica and the babies.”
“Those babies can’t come! They’re little!”
Papa waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve always taken the little ones. Safer than a car.”
“But it’s cold!” Even though it wasn’t frostbite weather, the twins weren’t used to Pennsylvania winters. “They’re from Arizona!”
“So were you, up until you started elementary school.” Papa chuckled. “Why, your parents brought you to visit at Christmas when you were only three months old, and Kimmie was, what, five? You both loved the ride, and no harm done.”
And they’d continued to visit the farm and ride in the sleigh every Christmas after they’d moved back to the Pittsburgh area. Even when their parents had declined to go to church, Gran and Papa had insisted on taking them. Christmases on the farm had been one of the best parts of his childhood.
Maybe Kimmie had held on to some of those memories, too.
He fought down his emotions. “I don’t trust Erica. There’s something going on with her.”
Papa didn’t answer, and when Jason looked up, he saw that Erica had come out onto the porch. Papa just lifted an eyebrow and went to help her get the twins into the sleigh.
Had she heard what he’d said? But what did it matter if she had; she already knew he thought she was hiding something.
“This is amazing!” She stared at the sleigh and horses, round-eyed. “It’s like a movie! Only better. Look, Mikey, horses!” She pointed toward the big furry-footed draft horses, their breath steaming in the cold, crisp air.
“Uuusss,” Mikey said.
Erica’s gloved hand—at least Papa had found her gloves—flew to her mouth. “That’s his second word! Wow!”
“What did he say?” It had sounded like nonsense to Jason.
“He said horse. Didn’t you, you smart boy?” Erica danced the twins around until they both giggled and yelled.
Papa lifted one of the babies from her arms and held him out to Jason. “Hold this one, will you?”
“But I...” He didn’t have a choice, so he took the baby, even though he knew less than nothing about them. In his police work, whenever there’d been a baby to handle, he’d foisted it off on other officers who already had kids.
He put the baby on his knee, and the baby—was this Mikey?—gestured toward the horses and chortled. “Uuusss! Uuusss!”
Oh. Uuusss meant horse.
“I’ll hold this one, and you climb in,” Papa said to Erica. “Then I’ll hand ’em to you one at a time, and you wrap ’em up in those blankets.” Papa sounded like a pro at all of this, and given that he’d done it already for two generations, Jason guessed he was.
Once both twins were bundled, snug between Papa and Erica, Jason set the horses to trotting forward. The sun was up now, making millions of diamonds on the snow that stretched across the hills, far into the distance. He smelled pine, a sharp, resin-laden sweetness.
When he picked up the pace, the sleigh bells jingled.
“Real sleigh bells!” Erica said, and then, as they approached the white covered bridge, decorated with a simple wreath for Christmas, she gasped. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
Jason glanced back, unable to resist watching her fall in love with his home.
Papa was smiling for the first time since he’d learned of Kimmie’s death. And as they crossed the bridge and trotted toward the church, converging with other horse-drawn sleighs, Jason felt a sense of rightness.
“Over here, Mr. S!” cried a couple of chest-high boys, and Jason pulled the sleigh over to their side of the temporary hitching post.
“I’ll tie ’em up,” Papa said, climbing out of the sleigh.
Mikey started babbling to Teddy, accompanied by gestures and much repetition of his new word, uuusss. Teddy tilted his head to one side and burst forth with his own stream of nonsense syllables, seeming to ask a question, batting Mikey on the arm. Mikey waved toward the horses and jabbered some more, as if he were explaining something important.
They were such personalities, even as little as they were. Jason couldn’t help smiling as he watched them interact.
Once Papa had the reins set and the horses tied up, Jason jumped out of the sleigh and then turned to help Erica down. She handed him a twin. “Can you hold Mikey?”
He caught a whiff of baby powder and pulled the little one tight against his shoulder. Then he reached out to help Erica, and she took his hand to climb down, Teddy on her hip.
When he held her hand, something electric seemed to travel right to his heart. Involuntarily he squeezed and held on.
She drew in a sharp breath as she looked at him, some mixture of puzzlement and awareness in her eyes.
And then Teddy grabbed her hair and yanked, and Mikey struggled to get to her, and the connection was lost.
The next few minutes were a blur of greetings and “been too long” came from seemingly everyone in the congregation.
“Jason Stephanidis,” said Mrs. Habler, a good-hearted pillar of the church whom he’d known since childhood. She’d held back until the other congregants had drifted toward the church, probably so she could probe for the latest news. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
He put an arm around her. “Good to see you, Mrs. Habler.”
“And this must be your wife and boys. Isn’t that sweet. Twins have always run in your family. You know, I don’t think your mother ever got over losing her twin so young.”
Mother had been a twin?
Erica cleared her throat. “We’re actually just family friends, passing through. No relation to Jason.”
The words sounded like she’d rehearsed them, not quite natural. And from Mrs. Habler’s pursed lips and wrinkled brow, it looked like she felt the same.
What was Erica’s secret?
And why hadn’t he ever known his mother was a twin?
And wasn’t it curious that, after all these years, there were twins in the farmhouse again?
* * *
When they returned to the farm, Erica’s heart was both aching and full.
After dropping Jason, Erica and the twins in front of the farmhouse—along with the real Christmas tree they’d brought home—Papa insisted on taking the horses and sleigh to the barn himself, even though Erica saw the worried look on Jason’s face.
“Is he going to be okay?” she asked as they hauled the twins’ gear into the house in the midst of Mistletoe’s excited barking.
Jason turned to watch his grandfather drive the sleigh into the barn. “He enjoyed the sleigh ride, but I think picking out a tree brought up too many memories. He’ll spend a few hours in the barn, is my guess. That’s his therapy.”
“He’s upset about Kimmie?”
“Yes. And on top of that, this is his first Christmas without my grandma.”
Her face crinkled with sympathy. “How long were they married?”
“We had a fiftieth-anniversary party for them a couple of years ago,” he said, thinking back. “So I think it was fifty-two years by the time she passed.”
“Did Kimmie come?”
He barked out a disgusted-sounding laugh. “No.”
Not wanting to get into any Kimmie-bashing, Erica changed the subject. “Could we do something to cheer him up?”
He looked thoughtful. “Gran always did a ton of decorating. I’d guess the stuff is up in the attic.” He quirked his mouth. “I’m not very good at it. Neither is Papa. It’s not a guy thing.”
“Sexist,” she scolded. “You don’t need two X chromosomes to decorate.”
“In this family you do. Will you... Would you mind helping me put up at least some of the decorations?” He sounded tentative, unsure of himself, and Erica could understand why. She wasn’t sure if they had a truce or if he was still upset with her about the way she’d handled things with Kimmie.
But it was Christmastime, and an old man needed comfort. “Sure. I just need to put these guys down for a nap. Look at Mikey. He’s about half-asleep already.”
“I’ll start bringing stuff down from the attic.”
Erica carried the babies up the stairs, their large diaper bag slung across her shoulders. Man, she’d never realized how hard it was to single-parent twins.
Not that she’d give up a bit of it. They’d been so adorable wrapped up in their blankets in the sleigh, and everyone at church had made a fuss over them. One of the other mothers in the church, a woman named Sheila, had insisted on going to her truck and getting out a hand-me-down, Mikey-sized snowsuit right then and there. She’d promised to see if she could locate another spare one among her mom friends.
Erica saw, now, why Kimmie had sent her here. It was a beautiful community, aesthetically and heartwise, perfect for raising kids.
She’d love to stay. If only she wasn’t terrified of having them taken from her by the man downstairs.
Kimmie had seemed to feel a mix of love and regret and anger toward her brother. Now that she’d met him, Erica could understand it better.
A free spirit, Kimmie had often been irresponsible, unwilling to do things by the book or follow rules. It was part of why she’d smoked cigarettes and done drugs and gotten in trouble with the police.
Jason seemed to be the exact opposite: responsible, concerned about his grandfather, an officer of the law.
Erica wished with all her heart that she could just reveal the truth to Jason and Papa. She hated this secrecy.
But she would hate even more for Jason to take the twins away from her. This last thing she could do for Kimmie, she’d do.
And it wasn’t one-sided. Kimmie had actually done Erica a favor, offered her a huge blessing.
Erica rarely dated, didn’t really understand the give-and-take of relationships. Certainly, her mother hadn’t modeled anything healthy in that regard. So it was no big surprise that Erica wasn’t attractive to men. She didn’t want to be. She dressed purposefully in utilitarian clothes and didn’t wear makeup. She just didn’t trust men, not with her childhood. And men didn’t like her, at least not romantically.
So the incredible gift that Kimmie had given her that she could never have gotten for herself was a family.
She put the twins down in their portable playpen, settling them on opposite sides, knowing they’d end up tangled together by the end of the nap. Mikey was out immediately, but Teddy needed some back rubbing and quiet talk before he relaxed into sleep.
Pretty soon, they’d need toddler beds. They’d need a lot of things. Including insurance and winter clothing and early intervention services for their developmental delays.
And just how was she going to manage that, when she didn’t have a job, a savings account or a real right to parent the twins?
Teddy kicked and fussed a little, seeming to sense her tension. So she pushed aside her anxiety and prayed for peace and for the twins to be okay and for Papa to receive comfort.
And for Kimmie’s soul.
When she got toward the bottom of the stairs, she paused. Jason was lying on the floor, pouring water into a green-and-red tree stand. Somehow, he’d gotten the tree they’d quickly chosen into the house by himself and set it upright, and it emitted a pungent, earthy scent that was worlds better than the pine room freshener her mother had sometimes sprayed around at Christmastime.
Jason had changed out of church clothes. He wore faded jeans and a sage-green T-shirt that clung to his impressive chest and arms.
Weight lifting was a part of being a cop, she supposed. And obviously, he’d excelled at it.
Her face heating at the direction of her own thoughts, she came the rest of the way down the stairs. “It smells so good! I never had a live tree before.”
“Never?” He looked at her as if she must have been raised in a third world country. “What were your Christmases like?” He eased back from the tree and started opening boxes of decorations.
“Nothing like a TV Christmas movie, but who has that, really? Sometimes Mom would get me a present, and sometimes a Secret Santa or church program would leave something on our doorstep.”
Jason looked at her with curiosity and something that might have been compassion, and she didn’t want that kind of attention. “What about you? Did you and Kimmie and your parents come here for the holidays?”
“My parents loved to travel.” He dug through a box and pulled out a set of green, heart-shaped ornaments. “See? From Ireland. They usually went on an overseas trip or a cruise at Christmas, and every year they brought back ornaments. We have ’em from every continent.”
“Wow. Pretty.” But it didn’t sound very warm and family oriented. “Didn’t they ever take you and Kimmie with them?”
“Nope. Dumped us here. But that was fine with us.” He waved an arm around the high-ceilinged, sunlit room. “Imagine it all decorated, with a whole heap of presents under the tree. Snowball fights and gingerbread cookies and sleigh rides. For a kid, it couldn’t get much better.”
“For a grown-up, too,” she murmured without thinking.
He nodded. “I’m glad to be here. For Papa and for me, too.”
“Where are your parents now?”
“Dad passed about five years ago, and Mom’s living on the French Riviera with her new husband. We exchange Christmas cards.” He sounded blasé about it. But Erica knew how much emotion and hurt a blasé tone could cover.
They spent a couple of hours decorating the tree, spreading garland along the mantel and stringing lights. By the time Erica heard a cry from upstairs, indicating that the twins were waking up, they’d created a practically perfect farm-style Christmas environment.
“Do you need help with the babies?” Jason asked.
She would love to have help, but she knew she shouldn’t start getting used to it. “It’s fine. I’ll get them.”
“I’m going to check on Papa, then.”
Erica’s back was aching by the time she’d changed the twins’ diapers and brought them downstairs, one on each hip. But the couple of hours they’d spent decorating were worth it. When Jason opened the door and Papa came in, his face lit up, even as his hands went to his hips. He shook his head. “You didn’t have to do this. I wasn’t...” He looked away and Erica realized he was choking up. “I wasn’t going to put anything up this year. But seeing as how we have children in the house again...” He broke off.
Erica carried the twins into the front room. “Let’s see how they like all the lights,” she said, and both men seemed glad to have another focus than the losses they were facing.
She sat on the couch and put Mikey on the floor, then Teddy. She waved her hand toward the tree. “Pretty!” she said, and then her own throat tightened, remembering the silver foil tree she’d put up in Kimmie’s apartment. They’d taken a lot of photographs in front of it, Kimmie in her wheelchair holding the twins. Erica had promised to show the twins when they were older, so they’d know how much their mother had loved them.
The boys’ brown eyes grew round as they surveyed the sparkling lights and ornaments.
“Priiiiiy,” Mikey said, cocking his head to one side.
Erica had no time to get excited about Mikey learning another new word because Teddy started to scoot toward the tree, then rocked forward into an awkward crawl.
“Whoa, little man,” Jason said, intercepting him before he could reach the shining ornaments.
“Better put the ornaments higher up and anchor the tree to the wall,” Papa said. “It’s what we used to do for you and your sister. You were a terrible one for pulling things off the tree. One year, you even managed to climb it!”
Jason picked up Teddy and plunked him back down on the floor beside Mikey, but not before Erica had seen the red spots on the baby’s knees. “I need to get them some long pants,” she fretted. “Sturdy ones, if he’s going to be mobile.”
“Can you afford it?” Jason asked.
Erica thought of the stash of money Kimmie had given her. She’d spent more than half of it on the cross-country drive; even being as frugal as possible in terms of motels and meals, diapers didn’t come cheap. “I can afford some.”
Questions lurked in his eyes, but he didn’t give them voice.
Teddy rocked back and forth and got himself on hands and knees again, then crawled—backward—toward Mistletoe, who lay by the gas fire. Quickly, Jason positioned himself to block the baby if needed.
Mistletoe nuzzled Teddy, then gave his face a couple of licks.
Teddy laughed and waved his arms.
“Not very sanitary,” Papa commented.
“Oh, well,” Erica and Jason said at the same time.
From the kitchen came a buzzing sound and Erica realized it was her phone. She went in and grabbed it. An Arizona number. She walked back into the front room’s doorway and clicked to accept the call.
“Hello,” came an unfamiliar voice. “Erica Lindholm?”
“That’s me.”
“This is Ryan Finnigan. An old friend of Kimmie Stephanidis. Do you have a moment to talk?”
She looked at the twins. “Can you watch the boys?” she asked the two men.
Jason looked a little daunted, but Papa nodded and waved a hand. “Go ahead. We’ll be fine.”
She headed through the kitchen to the dining room. “I’m here.”
“I’m not only an old friend, but I’m Miss Stephanidis’s attorney,” the man said.
“Kimmie had an attorney?” Kimmie had barely been organized enough to buy groceries.
“Not exactly. The medical personnel who brought her to the hospital, after her overdose, happened to find one of my business cards and gave me a call. I went to see her, and we made a will right there in the hospital. None too soon, I’m afraid.”
She was glad to know that Kimmie had had a friend near and that she’d been under medical care, and said so.
“I did what I could. I was...rather fond of her, at one time.” He cleared his throat. “She let me know her wishes, and I was able to carry those out. But as for her estate...she’s left you her half of the Holly Creek Farm.”
“What?” Erica’s voice rose up into a squeak and she felt for the nearest chair and sat down.
“She’s left you half the farm her family owns. It’s a small, working farm in Western Pennsylvania. The other half belongs to her brother.”
“Half of Holly Creek Farm? And it’s, like, legal?”
“It certainly is.”
She sat a moment, trying to digest this news.
“I’m sure it’s a lot to take in,” the lawyer said after a moment. “Do you have any questions for me, off the top of your head?”
“Did Kimmie...” She trailed off, peeked through the kitchen into the front room to make sure no one could hear. “Look, is this confidential?”
“Absolutely.”
“Did she leave any instructions about her children?”
“Her children?”
“I take it that’s a no.” Oh, Kimmie, why would you provide for them with the farm, but not grant me guardianship?
“If Kimmie did have children...the most important thing would be that they’re safe, in an acceptable home.”
“Right. That’s right.” She didn’t want to admit to anything, but if he’d been fond of Kimmie at one time, as he’d mentioned, he would obviously be concerned.
He cleared his throat. “Just speaking hypothetically, if Kimmie had children and died without leaving any written instructions, they would become wards of the state.”
Erica’s heart sank.
“Unless...is there a father in the picture?”
“No,” she said through an impossibly dry mouth. Kimmie had told her that after abandoning her and the twins, the babies’ father had gone to prison with a life sentence, some drug-related theft gone bad.
“If there’s no evidence that someone like you—hypothetically—had permission to take her children, no birth certificates, nothing, then any concerned party could make a phone call to Children and Youth Services.”
“And they’d take the children?” She could hear the breathy fear in her voice.
“They might.”
“But...this is hypothetical. You wouldn’t—”
“Purely hypothetical. I’m not calling anyone. Now, even if the state has legal custody, if you have physical custody—and the children in question are doing well in your care—then the courts might decide it’s in the best interest of the children for you to retain physical custody.”
“I see.” It’s not enough.
“None of this might come up for a while, not until medical attention is needed or the children start school.”
Or early intervention. Erica’s heart sank even as she berated herself for not thinking it all through. “If it did come up...would there be some kind of hearing?”
“Yes, and at that time, any relative who had questions or concerns could raise them.” He paused. “It seems Kimmie had very few personal effects, but whatever there is will be sent to her family as soon as possible.”
Her hands were so sweaty she could barely keep a grip on the cell phone. “Thank you. This has been very helpful.”
“Oh, one more thing,” the lawyer said. “You’ll be wanting to know the executor of Kimmie’s will.”
“It’s not you?”
“No. I’m happy to help, of course, but if there’s a capable family member, I usually recommend that individual.”
Erica had a sinking feeling she knew where this was going. “Who is it?”
“It’s her brother. Jason Stephanidis.”
