Читать книгу Single Dads Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 79

THE NEXT MORNING Rory kissed Finley goodbye before he walked out of Shannon’s office to investigate the store. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, so the cashiers and shoppers wouldn’t guess who he was, he looked so cute that Shannon felt a lightning bolt of longing. But she contented herself with the fact that she had Finley all day again.

“So any thoughts on what you’d like to do today?”

From her seat on the sofa near the big-screen TV, Finley peeked over at her. “Don’t you have papers?”

She laughed. “Yes. But I came in early to review them. I’m all yours this morning. So what do you want to do? Go to the candy store again? Maybe the toy store?” she suggested, hoping Finley would say yes so she could buy her a gift. Something special. Something she knew Finley would want. And maybe keep to remember her by.

Finley sucked in a breath. “I’d sorta like to go shopping.”

“Great! Where? The toy store?”

She shook her head, sending her fine blond hair swinging. “I wanna buy a present for Daddy.”

“Oh.” Wow. She’d never thought of that. A little kid like Finley, especially a child with only one parent, probably didn’t get a lot of chances to shop for Christmas gifts. But considering Finley’s life, a more important question popped into her head. “Have you ever bought your dad a Christmas gift?”

She shook her head again. “No.”

Though her heart twisted with a combination of love and sadness for sweet little Finley, she deliberately made her voice light and teasing so Finley’s first experience of Christmas shopping would be fun. “Well, then this is your lucky day because we have an excellent men’s department here at Raleigh’s.”

Finley rewarded her with a giggle.

“Let’s go!” She caught her hand and led her to the elevator. Inside the little box with “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” spilling from the speakers, she pressed the button for the second floor. Menswear.

As they stepped out, Finley glanced around in awe at the tables of shirts, racks of ties and mannequins dressed in suits. Customers milled about everywhere, examining underwear and pajamas displayed in long tables, studying ties.

“Ohhhh.”

Shannon also looked around, trying to see the store as Finley saw it. Because Finley was only a little over three feet tall, she suspected everything looked huge.

“So what do you think? Shirt? Tie? Rodeo belt buckle?”

Finley giggled.

“We also have day planners, pen-and-pencil sets for a daddy’s desk and all kinds of computer gadgets in electronics, if you don’t see something you like here.”

“You sound funny.”

“I’m being a salesman.”

Finley giggled again, but out of the corner of her eye, Shannon saw Rory talking to one of the salesclerks. Grasping Finley’s shoulders, she raced them behind one of the columns holding a mirror.

Finley said, “What?”

“Your dad is here.”

“Oh.”

“And if we want to keep your gift for him a surprise, we’ll have to be careful where we walk.”

Finley nodded her understanding.

They slipped to the far side of the sales floor. Customers, Christmas ornaments, racks of suit jackets, rows of jeans and walls of ties all provided good cover so that Rory wouldn’t see them.

As Finley inspected a table full of dress shirts, Shannon sneaked a peek at Rory. With his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans and his shoulders filling out his leather jacket, he could have been any other extremely gorgeous shopper. He chatted happily with a salesclerk, who eagerly showed him suit jackets and ties, probably expecting a nice commission.

She hated to see him disappoint the clerk, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching as he took off his jacket and tried on the suit coat suggested by the clerk. His muscles bunched and flexed as he reached around and took the jacket, then shrugged into it.

“I like this one.”

Shannon glanced down at Finley. “Huh?”

Finley waved a shirt at her. Folded neatly so that it fit into a rectangular plastic bag, the shirt was a shade of shocking pink so bold that Shannon had to hold back a gasp.

“That one?”

She nodded.

“Um…have you looked at any of the others?”

She nodded. “I like this one.”

“It’s very nice, but…um…usually men don’t like to wear pink shirts.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know…?.” And she also wasn’t sure why she was arguing with a six-year-old. Rory had enough money that he didn’t need a new shirt, and the pink one, the one chosen by his daughter with all the enthusiasm in her little pink-loving heart, would be a nice memento. He could keep it forever. Save it to show her when she got her first gift from her own child. Tears sprang to her eyes. It would actually be fun to see that. To remember this day. Share it with Rory. Make him laugh.

She swallowed hard. “You know what? I like that shirt, too.”

She glanced up to see which cash register could take their money, and she saw Rory going to the checkout beside the row of suits. The clerk was taking information from him—probably contact information for when the trousers had been hemmed and/or alterations made—and he was pulling out a credit card.

Her heart swelled with love for him. He wasn’t going to disappoint the clerk who’d spent so much time with him. He was actually buying something. She pressed her hand to her chest. He was such a great guy.

“You know…I don’t really hate Christmas anymore.”

Stunned back to the real world by Finley’s remark, Shannon peeked down at her. “I was beginning to wonder about that.”

Finley grinned. “I like presents.”

Shannon laughed. “I do, too. I like to give them as much as get them.”

Finley nodded eagerly.

“We’ll sneak to that register over there—” she pointed at the register in the far corner where Rory wouldn’t see them “—and pay for this, then I’m going to buy you ice cream.”

“It’s morning!”

“I know. But I think you’ve earned it.”

“What’s ‘earned’?”

“It means that you did something nice, so I’m going to do something nice for you.” Finley grinned.

Shannon paid for the shirt and the clerk handed the bag containing the bright pink shirt to her. She nudged her head so that the clerk would give it to Finley.

With a smile, the clerk shifted the bag over to Finley. “Thank you, ma’am, for shopping at Raleigh’s. Come again.”

Finley giggled.

Shannon caught her hand. “Want me to carry your bag?”

Finley clutched it tightly, her little hand wrapped around the folded-down end. “I’ve got it.”

She was quiet as they walked out of menswear and to the elevator. When they stepped inside, amazingly, it was empty.

Shannon almost hit the button for the third floor then remembered she’d promised Finley ice cream and pressed the button for the cafeteria floor.

Finley wiggled a little bit. After the doors closed, her tiny voice tiptoed into the elevator. “Some days I miss my mom.”

Shannon glanced down, her heart in her throat because she didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t her place to talk about Finley’s mom, but she certainly couldn’t ignore her. “I’m sure you do.”

“I don’t remember her.”

Stooping down in front of her, Shannon said, “You were very small, so you probably don’t remember. But you should really talk to your dad about this. I’d love to talk with you about it, but you and your dad were both part of your mom leaving.” She swallowed. “And you’re family. This is the kind of stuff you talk about with your family.”

Her blue eyes solemn and sad, Finley nodded. “Okay.”

The urge to hug Finley roared through her. Not just because she was sad, but because they were connected. They might not be family, but somewhere along the way they’d bonded. She wished with all her heart she could have talked with Finley about this. Could have eased her pain a bit. But it really was Rory’s place.

Still, though she couldn’t speak, she could hug, so she wrapped her arms around Finley’s tiny shoulders and squeezed.

Finley snuggled against her. “I wish you were my mom.”

She closed her eyes. Only with great effort did she stop herself from saying, “I do, too.” Instead, she tightened her hold, pressing her lips together to stop their trembling.

The elevator bell dinged. The doors opened. Shannon rose, took Finley’s hand and headed to the cafeteria. They could both use some ice cream now.

She managed to avoid having lunch with Finley and Rory. Partially because she hoped Finley would use the private time to ask her dad about her missing mom. She knew a cafeteria wasn’t the best place to have the conversation, but recognized that Rory would be smart enough to stall a bit while they were in public. That would give him time to think through what he wanted to say that night when they were alone in the hotel room.

She spent the afternoon with Finley, taking her downstairs to the gift-wrap department to have Rory’s new pink shirt properly wrapped in paper covered in elves and candy canes. When Rory arrived at her office around five to take Finley home, she rose from her office chair.

“So, you’re ready to go?”

“Yes.” He ambled into her office. “The store is fantastic, by the way. Your clerks are very cheerful.”

“Hey, some of them work on commission. And the Christmas season puts a lot of money in their pockets.”

He laughed. “Ready to go, Finley?”

She scooted off the sofa. “I need my coat.”

Shannon walked to the coatrack. “I’ll get it.”

She slid Finley’s arms into the jacket, her heart aching at seeing them leave. Plus, she wanted to talk to Rory about Finley asking about her mom. The need to invite them to her house that evening trembled through her. More time with Finley was a good thing. More time with Rory was tempting fate.

With Finley’s coat zipped, Shannon turned her toward her dad. “See you tomorrow.”

Rory scooped her up. “Yep. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

It was wiser to simply let them go. She could leave Finley with Wendy the following morning, track Rory down on the sales floor, and ask for a few private minutes to talk about Finley’s question about her mom. That was a much better plan than asking them to her house again that night. Especially since she was decorating the tree. And that would just feel too much like a family thing.

But, oh, she wanted it.

As their feet hit the threshold of her office door, she blurted, “I’m decorating the tree tonight, if you’re interested?”

Rory turned, an odd expression on his face. But Finley clapped with glee. “Yes! I want to see the tree when it’s all pretty!”

He cast her a puzzled frown. “It’s not decorated yet. She wants us to decorate the tree tonight.”

Finley grinned. “I know.”

He shrugged. “Okay.” He faced Shannon. “It looks like we’re happy to help. But this time it’s my turn to bring food.” He caught her gaze. “Anything in particular you like?”

A million sensations twinkled through her. She nearly said, I want you to stay. I want you to love me. But she only smiled. “I like chicken.”

“You mean fried chicken?”

She nodded.

“Fried chicken it is.”

She was ready for them when they arrived a little after six. Paper plates and plastic forks were already on the kitchen table, so they wouldn’t have much clean up and could get right to decorating the tree.

She opened the door with a big smile, but from the shell-shocked look on Rory’s face, Shannon suspected that Finley had asked him about her mom.

She hustled them inside. “I set up the kitchen table. We can eat first, decorate second.”

Not thinking about her own longings, and more concerned about how Rory had handled “the” question, she shooed Finley ahead and stopped Rory short of the door.

“She asked you, didn’t she?”

He rubbed his hand down his face. “About her mom?”

She nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“The truth. Or at least as much of it as I could say without hurting her.” He sucked in a breath. “She’s six. I don’t want to tell her that her mom doesn’t love her—doesn’t even want to see her.”

“Of course not.”

“She was oddly accepting of the fact that Bonnie left. Almost as if she was just curious about where she was.”

Shannon let out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. “So that’s good.”

“Yeah. But I have a feeling bigger questions will be coming.”

“Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Probably.”

Finley pushed open the swinging door. “I’m hungry!”

When she spun around and the door swung closed behind her, Shannon started for the kitchen, but Rory stopped her.

“Thanks.”

Her eyebrows rose. “For what?”

“For being so good to her. For listening to me when I need somebody to talk about this stuff with.”

“Haven’t you talked about these things with your friends?”

He cast her a look. “Do you tell your friends about your divorce?”

She felt her face redden. “Not really.”

“That’s why it’s so nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who will listen without judging.”

Understanding, she inclined her head. Even though telling him about her inability to have kids had been painful, it had been nice finally to have someone to talk to.

Someone who understood.

A little bit of her burden lessened. He did understand. She might have effectively ended the romantic aspect of their relationship, but maybe she didn’t need a romance as much as she needed somebody who truly understood her pain. Somebody who truly understood that sometimes life could be incredibly unfair.

She smiled at him. “I think we better get into the kitchen.”

He laughed, slung his arm across her shoulder. “Yep.”

The casualness of the gesture seeped into her soul. He liked her. She liked him. They were friends. Real friends, who knew the worst about each other’s lives and didn’t feel sorry, didn’t feel put off, simply accepted and understood. She didn’t have to hide things from him. He didn’t have to tiptoe around her. More important, she didn’t have to worry about him finding out. He knew. It was amazing. Suddenly freeing.

They walked into the kitchen to discover that Finley had already opened the bucket of chicken, chosen a leg and was wrestling with the container of coleslaw.

Rory said, “I’ll get that.”

Shannon opened the mashed potatoes and gravy. “And I’ll get this.” She offered the potatoes to Finley. “Would you like some of these?”

“Yes, please.”

They ate dinner having a surprisingly relaxed conversation, considering that Finley had asked the big question that afternoon.

As soon as she was done eating, Finley slid off her chair and tossed her paper plate and plastic fork into the trash. She skipped to the door. “I’m going to get started.”

Rory bounced off his seat. “Not without us!” He headed for the door, then doubled back and tossed his plate and plastic fork into the trash. “If you have any valuable ornaments, I’d eat quickly and get into the living room before she tries to hang them.”

With that he raced away and Shannon chuckled, shaking her head. What she wouldn’t give to have them as her real family.

But she couldn’t. And she did have another night with them. So she rose, tossed her plate and utensils, closed the bucket, put the remaining chicken into the refrigerator and joined them in her living room.

To her relief, she found Rory stringing lights on the tree, as Finley unspooled them.

“That’s going to be pretty.”

Finley beamed. “Yep.”

Heading to the box containing the ornaments her parents had left behind, she said, “I’ll unwrap these and we can get started.”

They worked in silence for the next five minutes while Rory finished the lights and Shannon carefully removed the white tissue paper from the ornaments.

When the lights had been hung on the branches and the star sat at the top of the tree, she said, “Plug them in. We’ll decorate around them.”

Rory plugged in the lights and the tree twinkled and sparkled, causing Finley to gasp.

Shannon said, “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Very pretty.”

Hanging the ornaments wasn’t as simple as stringing the lights. Finley wanted to know the story behind every ornament and if an ornament didn’t have a story, Shannon had to make one up.

It was ten o’clock before they got all the ornaments hung. When it was time to leave, after Finley had had sufficient time to ohhh and ahhh, Rory carried the cocoa tray to Shannon’s kitchen, leaving Finley with the instruction to put on her boots and coat.

Shannon held the kitchen door open for Rory. As they walked into the kitchen “White Christmas” was playing on the stereo.

“Oops. Forgot to turn that off.”

She reached for it as Rory set the tray on the center island, but before she could click it off, he caught her hand. “I love this song.”

“I’ll bet! With only two or three snowfalls a year, a white Christmas is probably pretty high on your wish list. But here in snow country there’s never really a happy storm.”

He laughed, then surprised her by swinging her into his arms to dance. Holding her close, he said, “It’s a pretty song. A happy song. A song about someone wishing for something he might just get.” He laughed again. “Don’t spoil it for me.”

She said, “I won’t,” but inside her chest her heart pounded like a jackhammer. She told herself that they were only friends. Reminded herself that having a friend, a real friend who knew her secrets and understood her, was a blessedly wonderful feeling. But the sensations rippling through her were every bit as wonderful. She wanted him to like her as more than a friend.

But she’d snuffed out that possibility, headed it off herself. Her choice.

The song ended and they pulled away. Gazing into each other’s eyes, they stepped back. Their initial chemistry kicked up again, but she swung away. Carrying the tray to the sink, she laughed shakily. “Somebody who likes snow…sheesh.”

“Hey. It’s hard to hate something that frequently gets you a day off.”

She laughed, then heard the sound of the door as he left the kitchen. Knowing he was gone, she braced herself against the countertop and squeezed her eyes shut, letting herself savor the sensation of being held by him. Danced with. Only when she had memorized every feeling swimming through her, tucked it away to pull out on snowy winter nights without him, did she turn from the sink and go out to the foyer.

Already in her little coat and pink boots, Finley snuggled into her dad’s neck, preparing for sleep. Shannon stood on tiptoes and kissed her cheek. “Good night, sweetie.”

“G’night.”

“I’ll see you in the morning?” She made the statement as a question because he’d never really told her a time or day he was leaving. Given that they were spending another night in Green Hill, she suspected he’d stop in the store in the morning.

She peeked at him expectantly.

“Yes. We’ll be there in the morning. I want to see Christmas Eve sales. But we do have a four-hour drive, so we’ll be leaving around noon.”

“Okay.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds. She swore she saw longing in his eyes. The same longing that tightened her tummy and put an ache in her chest. Then he broke away and headed for the door.

When they were gone she sat in front of the tree for twenty minutes. Just looking at it. Wishing she could keep it up forever.