Читать книгу A Christmas Family Miracle: Snowbound with Her Hero / Baby Under the Christmas Tree / Single Dad's Christmas Miracle - Rebecca Winters - Страница 8

AFTER DINNER, Philippe begged Raoul to go back upstairs again. Crystal remained behind in the den and talked with her parents in order to give her son private time with his uncle. No one was deceived that he’d come for any other reason than to bring news she didn’t want to hear. But she recognized that Raoul hadn’t let on anything so as not to alarm Philippe.

“Are you all right, honey?” her dad asked.

“Not really.” But it wasn’t something she could discuss with anyone. Once Philippe had actually eaten a whole piece of pizza, they’d disappeared and had been conspicuous by their absence. She checked her watch.

“It’s past Philippe’s bedtime.” She excused herself, gave her father a kiss and walked upstairs with pounding heart. On the way down the hall she heard her son whooping it up. The happy sounds were followed by his uncle’s deep laughter. Philippe had been morose for so long, it was a shock to hear and see him this animated.

When she entered his bedroom, she found him and Raoul having a game of checkers on his bed. His face was flushed with excitement because he was winning.

“I hate to break this up, but it’s time for bed, honey.”

To her surprise he scrambled right off the covers without having to be coaxed. “Uncle Raoul’s going to let me stay with him tonight.”

That was news to Crystal. She shook her head. “There’s a blizzard outside. I don’t want you going out in it.”

Raoul stayed on the bed without saying anything. She could feel his unsettling gaze focused on her.

Philippe pointed to the other bed. “Then he can sleep with me.”

Her son had it all worked out. If he didn’t get his way tonight, there was going to be a war, which in the end she wouldn’t win. Heaving a sigh she said, “Tell you what. Grab yourself some pajamas and take your bath. While you do that, I’ll talk to your uncle. Okay?”

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere, Uncle Raoul.”

“I’ll stay right here.”

“See you in a minute.”

Philippe pulled his green pajamas with dinosaurs from the dresser. On top of it sat Eric’s last framed gold medal won in the men’s downhill. Her bronze medal, won for the women’s downhill, had been framed and was propped next to it. All his other medals were back in Chamonix at his parents’ home. Crystal wanted it that way. The Broussards were so proud of their son. One day when Philippe was grown and had his own place for them, he would want them for himself.

The minute he’d dashed down the hall to the bathroom, she sank down on the other twin bed with her hands on either side to brace herself for whatever was coming. “This is the first chance we’ve had to talk alone. My parents and I are aware you’re here because of some kind of emergency.” She couldn’t prevent the tremor in her voice. “Tell me now before Philippe comes bursting back in the room.”

Raoul put the checkers in the box and got to his feet. His hard muscled physique dominated the room. “Papa came down with a cold two weeks ago that turned into the flu. It hung on and now he has pneumonia. He’s been hospitalized because his asthma flared up again after all these years and has complicated his condition. The doctor says if he doesn’t rally pretty soon, we could lose him by Christmas.”

Crystal’s cry resounded in the bedroom. “He can’t die, Raoul. He just can’t!” She jumped to her feet, hugging her arms to her waist. That was only nine days away. She loved her father-in-law—in fact, the whole family. So did Philippe.

“Mother believes it would do his spirits good if he were to see his grandson again. I agree it would be the best medicine and told her I’d come and talk to you about it in person.”

She averted her eyes, but couldn’t prevent the groan that escaped her throat.

“I’m not unaware you’re building a life for yourself here, Crystal. To fly back to France with Philippe would open up the wound again, but, for all our sakes, I’m asking you to do this. After we buried Eric, Papa worked harder than ever to stave off his grief, but now that he’s ill, he has too much time to think and remember.”

Crystal could relate. All she’d done was think and remember. Jules—Raoul’s father—was still mourning Suzanne’s death, too. All of them had loved her. Two deaths in one family were simply too much. No one understood that better than Crystal.

“I’m so sorry about Jules. This has to be agonizing for everyone.” Especially this soon after Eric. When Raoul didn’t say anything, she eyed him again. “I’m afraid this is hardest on you. With your father in the hospital, you have the whole weight of the family business on your shoulders.”

“Sometimes more work is a blessing.” He darted her a probing glance “Haven’t you found that’s true, too?”

“Yes,” she murmured before looking away guiltily. While Philippe was at school, she’d put in all kinds of extra hours dealing with stock in the back room of her father’s store so she wouldn’t think. If she hadn’t let Eric’s indifference cause her to lose her own identity as a skiing champion, she could be in an entirely different place right now.

Raoul’s unexpected arrival had exposed her deepest concerns and feelings on that score. He made her realize she needed to do something about herself, but for the immediate moment her thoughts were focused on Jules and what would help him most to recover.

“Are your passports still current? Otherwise I’ll request an emergency visa.” He took her capitulation as a fait accompli.

This was one time she had to give in and go. She wanted to, despite all her fears. “That won’t be necessary. Ours are good for another two years.”

“Bon. Then we’ll fly back tomorrow.”

Her thoughts reeled. It meant being with him again, talking to him during the long flight. Obviously the adage of out of sight, out of mind hadn’t worked in her case. She was too thrilled to see him again and had to admit it.

“I took the liberty of making a reservation for the two of you in case you were willing to come.” Raoul was a brilliant man who never left anything to chance. “I wouldn’t worry about Philippe missing school,” he said when she didn’t respond. “After what he told me on the way here in the car, I think a trip home to Chamonix is the medicine he needs, too.”

Home to Chamonix. Those words shook her to the depths. Her breath caught.

“Wh-what did he tell you?” she stammered.

A grimace marred Raoul’s features. “What didn’t he tell me? But he’s out in the hall now, which doesn’t give me time to go over the list.”

No sooner had he spoken than Philippe came bouncing back in the room. Raoul’s hearing had to be more acute than hers because she hadn’t heard anything except the loud thud of her own heart.

Philippe stared at both of them. “Can he stay with us tonight?”

The pleading look in those blue eyes combined with the palpable tension coming from Raoul was too much to take. It hurt her that Philippe had felt comfortable enough to tell Raoul things she hadn’t been able to get out of him. But that was the possessive mother in her talking, and this situation with Philippe was about him, not her.

She moistened her lips nervously, aware of Raoul’s piercing glance. “I have a better idea, honey. Your uncle’s things are back at the hotel. After flying all this way, he needs a good sleep in a big bed.” Before her son had time for a fresh meltdown she added, “And we need time to get our things packed.”

The tears filling his eyes stopped short of dripping down his cheeks. “Where are we going?”

Crystal smoothed her hands over her hips in an unconscious gesture. “I’ll let your uncle tell you.” Above all else, she trusted his discretion.

Raoul got down on his haunches in front of Philippe. “Your grand-père isn’t feeling very well right now, and he’s missing his petit-fils. So I told him I would fly to Colorado and bring you and your mommy back with me. When he sees you, I have an idea he’ll get better in a big hurry. How does that sound?”

She knew how it sounded to Philippe. The only sounds in the room came from his happy sobs as he launched himself into Raoul’s arms. They were such deep sobs, it pained her to think of the damage she’d unwittingly done by staying away from Chamonix so long.

Needing to channel her energy, she went to the closet and pulled down the suitcase she’d stored on one of the shelves. Her eye caught sight of his little striped robe hanging on a hanger. He’d outgrown it, too, but she hadn’t thrown away any of the clothes they’d brought with them. She couldn’t. Suddenly her emotions erupted and she buried her face in the toweling.

“Crystal?”

She quickly wiped off the moisture before turning around. Raoul stood in the doorway to the closet. There wasn’t enough distance separating them for her to breathe normally. His eyes studied her, but she couldn’t read their expression. “I sent Philippe downstairs to tell your parents.”

Another necessary distraction for her son. Raoul had a way with Philippe. While she stood there trying to gather her wits, he picked up the suitcase and moved it to one of the beds. She followed, watching as his fingers smoothed the Chamonix sticker pasted on the outside lid.

It brought back a memory of Raoul buying the sticker at the airport. He’d put it on Philippe’s suitcase. “This is so you won’t forget me.” He’d kissed his nephew, who’d been in tears. His finger motion just now conveyed the feelings of that painful day more powerfully than any words could do. It sent a tremor through her body. She’d never forgotten Raoul. That would be impossible.

“What time is check-in at the airport in the morning?”

Her question seemed to jar him from his thoughts. He lifted his dark head. “Eight o’clock.”

“With this storm, we’ll have to leave Breckenridge by five to make it.”

Through his dark lashes he flashed her a shuttered glance. “I’ll be here. We can eat breakfast at the airport while we’re waiting to board our flight.”

She nodded and opened the suitcase. “We’ll be ready.”

Philippe came running back in the room. “Nana and Grandpa said they’re going to miss me, but I told them Grand-père is sick and missed me, too.” He looked up at Raoul with a soulful expression. “Do you have to leave now?”

“Don’t worry.” He swept Philippe up in his arms once more. “We’ll see each other first thing in the morning. Right now you need to mind your mother and go to sleep because it’ll be a long flight to Geneva tomorrow.”

“That’s not Chamonix.”

Raoul chuckled. “No. Geneva’s in Switzerland. We’ll pick up my car at the airport and drive home.”

“Will it take a long time?”

“Only about an hour.”

Philippe looked at Crystal. “Will we go to our house?”

The house he was referring to had actually been a condo she and Eric had rented. At one time she’d assumed they would buy a house of their own, but as problems arose in their marriage no one knew about and still didn’t, they’d kept putting it off.

“Someone else lives there now,” she replied quietly. He needed to know the truth up front so there’d be one less expectation when they got there.

“That’s okay. We’ll stay with Uncle Raoul.”

“No, Philippe—” Crystal blurted. No … “H-he has a girlfriend,” she said, her voice faltering.

“You do?”

Something flickered in the depths of Raoul’s eyes. “But she doesn’t live with me, mon gars, and there’s nothing I’d love more than to have you sleep at my house,” he inserted in a smooth tone without looking at her.

“We’ll be staying at your grandparents’, honey.”

“That’s right. Your grand-mère has your dad’s old room all ready for you and your mother. She can’t wait to spoil you. Come on and walk me downstairs.”

Philippe grabbed his hand and the two of them headed out of the room. The fact that Raoul didn’t deny the existence of a girlfriend verified Vivige’s information. It should have come as a relief. But as Crystal followed them, she felt a whole new nightmare beginning.

Geneva was one of Europe’s main hubs. After disembarking, they wove their way through the crowds to the parking area. Crystal watched Raoul stow the last of their bags in the trunk of his car before getting behind the wheel. Philippe had already climbed in the back and strapped himself in. The sleek black vehicle was a recent acquisition, but Raoul had never been a sports car fan like his brother. As far as she was concerned, this sedan was the ultimate in comfort and luxury.

Within a few minutes they’d wound their way out of the airport. She checked her watch. Barring unforeseen circumstances they’d be in Chamonix by noon. The long fifteen-hour flight was finally over.

Philippe had been restless for part of it, but between her and Raoul, they’d kept him occupied while they took turns napping. Philippe ought to have been exhausted by now, but he showed no signs of it yet.

She turned her head around. “Are you hungry, honey?”

“Yes. Can we get some chicken nuggets?”

“I’m afraid they don’t have them here.”

“Actually they do,” Raoul informed them, darting her an amused glance. “There’ve been a few changes while you’ve been away.”

She lifted her brows. “Even the Swiss caved for fast food. That’s really saying something.”

Her response brought a smile to his lips that melted her insides. “I’m glad they did. I come down here often enough to meet with the heads of groups who want to arrange a special climb and I’m usually in a hurry. It saves time to be able to pick up a snack en route without getting out of the car.”

Before long they’d all eaten and were on their way again. During the drive Raoul phoned his mother to let her know they would be there shortly. From what Crystal could gather, his father was no better, but no worse, thank heaven.

After he hung up he spoke sotto voce. “I’ll take you to the house first so you can freshen up.”

The “house” hardly described the Broussard family home. It was a marvelous old brown-and-white three-story chalet located in Les Pecles, a few minutes from the town center of Chamonix. The first Broussard, a famous alpinist, built it 220 years earlier in the haut-savoyard style. The mountaineering tradition had carried down through the years, making their name a household word for Alpine adventure throughout the French Alps.

Due to its location on the Swiss and Italian border, there was an international flavor that made the town cosmopolitan and brought visitors from all over the world. No matter the season, Crystal thought it the most beautiful place on earth. Seeing it again with all the streets and shops decked out for Christmas brought memories, both good and bad. Hearing the ecstatic sounds coming from Philippe she knew he was in heaven to be back.

“I see the peak!” he called out excitedly.

They’d approached the snow covered Chamonix valley from the north, dominated by Mont Blanc, but he was referring to the Aiguille du Midi. Raoul had taken her and Philippe up on it in the cable car. After that experience it had been the landmark for her son among a world of mountains and peaks on both sides of the town of 15,000 sprawled through the valley.

“Do you remember what it’s called, honey?”

“No, but Uncle Raoul said the sun sits on it. See?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Raoul smile. “You have a good memory, Philippe.”

Crystal turned her head abruptly to look out the passenger window. Once Philippe had been born, many of her memories had to do with Raoul being with them rather than Eric. After Suzanne died, Crystal and Philippe had spent a lot of time with him and his family while they all mourned.

Eric gave his love and support when he could, but he had to train through all the seasons and was gone a great deal. Crystal felt he was away too much and reminded him they had a son who was missing him terribly.

A year before he’d died, she’d begged for them to live part of the year in Breckenridge, where they could both train and he’d find more time to be with their son away from his family. There hadn’t been too much togetherness. She didn’t tell him Philippe went to Raoul for everything. That would only upset him, but the situation couldn’t go on.

To her chagrin Eric didn’t like the idea of actually living away for even part of a year. He’d told her they would buy a house. In other words, he hoped a new project would keep her busy. It didn’t occur to him she might like to start up racing again.

She told him a house wouldn’t be a substitute for a full-time father. Over the months that followed, she realized he was too entrenched with his lifestyle and friends, too comfortable with the way things were, to want to leave. They didn’t have a marriage anymore.

Eric had been surrounded by a loving support group from the time he was born. Crystal had joined it by becoming his wife, but there was one little body who had needed his attention more of the time now. A day or two here and there between races that took him to other parts of Europe and the States for longer periods wasn’t enough for Philippe.

The more she’d brought it up to her husband, the more irritated he became until they had nothing between them. Having been a top athlete herself, he thought she understood the demands on him. She did understand, at the time. But priorities changed once a child came into the world.

The day he’d left for Cortina, she’d reminded him of that fact and told him she was going back to Breckenridge with Philippe to stay for a few months until he realized what he was missing and come for them.

He’d remained mute. After giving Philippe a hug and a kiss, he’d walked past her and slammed the door on his way out of their condo. He’d never done that before. That was the last time she’d seen him alive.

“There’s Grand-mère!”

Philippe’s cry brought Crystal out of her torturous thoughts. The second Raoul stopped the car, her son opened the rear door and ran up the few steps into her arms. They hugged for a long time.

Crystal’s sixty-three-year-old mother-in-law, Arlette, was lean and athletic like her children, possessing endless energy. She and Jules were very alike, always busy, always cordial and always welcoming company into their home.

From a distance, everything about her appeared to look the same. That was until Crystal got out before Raoul could help her and hurried toward his mother, noticing new worry lines on her attractive features. Since the last time she’d seen her, there was a touch more gray in the dark hair she wore short. It gave her an added sophistication.

Arlette clapped her hands on Crystal’s cheeks. “Mon Dieu, you’ve come and brought Philippe. Jules will be overjoyed. We’ve missed you both so much.”

Crystal hugged her hard, thinking Arlette was a little thinner. Because she was shorter than Crystal’s five-foot-seven frame, she seemed even smaller to her this time. “We’ve missed you, too,” she whispered. “I can’t bear it that Jules is so ill.”

“Neither can I.” The older woman wiped her eyes. “Now that you’ve come, I know he’ll start to feel better.”

“I pray that’s true.” As she looked around, she realized Philippe had gone inside the house with Raoul. Arlette hooked her arm through Crystal’s and drew her past the door. Once it was closed, they went up the stairs to the first floor. The place had been transformed into a Christmas fairyland.

“It’s beautiful, Arlette.”

“We can thank Raoul. He got Bernard to help him set up everything for me.”

What would their family do without Raoul? He carried the emotional weight and still managed to do his own work and everyone else’s. Crystal marveled at his capacity.

Philippe ran over to the tree. “There’s Père Noël!” He remembered.

“Don’t touch it, honey. Those wooden ornaments are very precious.”

“He can touch whatever he wants,” Arlette countered, like the loving grandmother she was. “Go ahead, Philippe. Take it off the branch. It’s yours to keep.”

“Goody!”

“You can have a piece of marzipan in that candy dish, too.”

“Mmm.” He stuffed one in his mouth while he ran over to inspect the fabulous hand-painted grandfather clock that had just struck the half hour. Philippe had always loved to stand in front of it and wait to hear the chimes. Little Hansel and Gretel figures came out, fascinating him.

“I’ve put your suitcases in the upstairs bedroom,” Raoul informed Crystal. He’d just walked into the room still wearing his bomber jacket. She took one look at him and felt her heart turn over and over. It had been doing that since the moment she’d heard his voice at her father’s store, almost as if it had a life of its own.

“Thank you.”

“Hey—here’s my daddy!” Philippe cried out with his mouth still full of candy. With the small, red-painted wooden figure of a solemn Father Christmas clutched in one hand, her son used his other hand to pick up a small framed picture of his father in his ski outfit. Arlette had placed it on the long credenza with many other family pictures. Everyone in the family was represented.

He picked up another picture and showed it to Raoul. “This is Tante Suzanne, huh?”

Crystal squeezed her eyes closed for a second. This was the hard part.

“Yes.”

“She died, huh.”

“That’s right.”

“Was she skiing like Daddy?”

“No. It was spring and she died in an aerial tram accident.”

Suzanne had gone hiking with some people from the office where she’d worked. They’d taken an aerial tram so they could start their hike way up in the mountains. But it had been hit by gale force winds and fell, killing her. Crystal winced to think about the bare bones details again.

“Oh,” Philippe said in a quiet voice. “Do you still cry?”

“Not anymore, but I’ll never forget her.”

Philippe let out a big sigh and wandered over to his uncle, putting an arm around him. “I don’t cry as much, either.” Oh, Philippe. “Mommy says Daddy’s in heaven. Do you think Suzanne’s in heaven, too?”

“Yes.”

The scene was too much for Arlette, whose eyes had filled. With a husband lying ill, she didn’t need more of this conversation.

“Come on, honey.” Crystal took hold of his hand. “We need to go upstairs and freshen up. Then we’ll go over to the hospital to see your grandfather.”

Philippe pulled back and looked up at her in alarm. “How come he’s in there?”

“Remember your uncle told you he was sick?”

“Yes,” he said in a tentative voice.

“Well, the hospital is the best place for him to get better.”

“Does he know I’m coming?” he asked as Crystal walked up the stairs to the next floor with him.

“I don’t think so. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“I like surprises.”

“He will too when he sees you walk in his room.”

Crystal didn’t need to ask where Arlette had put them. Raoul had already told them. Since Philippe’s birth, Eric’s old room had a double and a twin bed. On the dresser someone had put up a little Christmas tree with lights. More of Raoul’s doing? Along with the décor there were some games and dozens of his father’s mementos and trophies for Philippe to enjoy.

Photos of Eric at different ages lined one wall. Another one held pictures of baby Philippe’s christening at St. Michel church, plus more pictures of the three of them. Eric and his son looked almost identical at the age Philippe was now. Her boy was delighted by everything.

She thought she might not be able to handle this painful trip down memory lane, but it turned out she was wrong. If anything, she looked at the smiling couple and their baby with the perspective of time on her side.

The birth of Philippe and the few weeks after when Eric had spent more time at home to be with her and the baby had been the last period of happiness in their marriage. Once the weighty responsibility of parenthood had descended, she’d thrown herself into it with the kind of joy she couldn’t have imagined before becoming a mother. But in so doing, she’d caused an unwitting division between her and Eric that had only grown wider and unbridgeable with time.

Today she could admit the truth to herself. If he hadn’t died, she knew deep inside she would have ended up in Breckenridge and a divorce would have followed. What was the old adage? Dignity in death, disgrace in divorce? It was an awful saying. In both cases there was loss. Period.

Raoul went inside the hospital room ahead of the others. He saw a new addition to all the flowers since he’d last been in here. A beautiful Christmas red poinsettia had been delivered. The get-well card was from Crystal’s parents. Jules would be touched.

His thoughts flew to Philippe. He knew it would frighten him to see his graying grandfather on oxygen with an IV in his arm. In the last few weeks he’d lost ten pounds with the flu. His gaunt appearance made him look closer to seventy than sixty-five.

The doctor couldn’t account for Jules getting so ill at his age, but they both agreed the two deaths in the family had probably been too much for him. Despite all his hard work, he was a family man through and through and lived for his children. Eric’s death had robbed him of his joie de vivre. If anyone could bring it back, it would be Philippe, who had certain mannerisms and features inherited from his father.

“Papa?”

“Ah, Raoul. You’ve been gone so long.” He grasped his hand and wept.

It killed him to see his father like this. “I’ve brought someone with me. Are you up for company?”

His eyelids fluttered open to half mast. “Bien sûr,” he murmured in a voice half as strong as normal.

“I’ll be right back.”

He hurried over to the door and opened it. Three worried pairs of eyes fastened on him. “How is he?” his mother asked.

“He’s awake.”

“Can I see him?” Philippe whispered.

“What do you think?” He reached for his nephew’s hand and they walked over to the left side of the bed. Crystal and his mother followed and stood on the right. Raoul was surprised Philippe didn’t flinch at all the tubes.

“Hi, Grand-père. It’s me.”

Again his father’s eyelids opened, alert to a new voice in the room. “Me, who?”

Philippe giggled. “You know who I am.” In case Jules couldn’t see him well, Raoul lifted him in his arms.

His father’s gray-blue eyes swerved to his grandson before glazing over with tears. “Ah … my boy, my boy. Come closer and give your grand-père a kiss.” Raoul lowered him. “Does this oxygen frighten you?”

“No.” Philippe kissed him on both cheeks before Raoul caught him back in his arms. “There’s a girl at my school named Talitha. She’s from California and has to wear oxygen all the time. It’s because of the altitude.” Raoul didn’t know that. “Does that needle in your arm hurt you?”

“Nah. I can’t even feel it.”

“What’s it for?”

“To give me food.”

“Why don’t you just eat?”

Raoul hadn’t heard a laugh come out of his father in ages. Certainly not one that hearty. “I haven’t been hungry.”

“We had chicken nuggets today,” Philippe mentioned. “Uncle Raoul would go get you some.” He looked at Raoul with imploring eyes. “He’d like them.”

“I’m sure he would.” Raoul was trying to keep a straight face, but Crystal had already burst out laughing. It drew his father’s attention.

“Ah, Crystal. It’s been such a long time.”

“Too long,” she agreed and bent over to kiss his cheeks. “I’m sorry you’ve been ill.”

“It’s nothing. Have you come for Christmas?” The hope in his voice caused Raoul to hold his breath.

“Yes. Philippe and I didn’t want to spend this one away from you and Arlette.”

“Did you hear that, mon amour?”

There was new animation in his voice. Raoul’s mother nodded and leaned over to kiss his father’s forehead. “I certainly did. That’s why you’ve got to get better quick!”

Suddenly Philippe pulled something out of his parka pocket and leaned over to put it in his grandfather’s hand.

He lifted it with his free arm. “What’s this?”

“Père Noël. Grand-mère let me take him off the tree. I asked him to make you all better. You can keep him until you come home. Then I’ll put him in my spy kit.”

“You have a spy kit?”

“Yes.”

“I want to see it.”

“It has lots of cool stuff you’d like.”

Raoul sensed another miracle was happening. When he lifted his eyes to thank Crystal, he discovered her struggling to ward off her tears. The first miracle was that she’d come back to France with him.

The wall she’d slowly erected months before Eric had been killed had been so high, he hadn’t expected her capitulation. If it weren’t for Philippe …