Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Emerson
On the surface, things were back to normal—whatever normal was—when we put the kids to bed. They seemed to have forgotten about the earlier trauma of Skyler taking off.
I hadn’t, of course.
I’d put on my happy face for the rest of the evening, but this afternoon had taken a toll on me. Bone-tired didn’t begin to cover it, and my limbs weighed a hundred pounds each.
Evelyn had had the brilliant idea of pushing her bed and Skyler’s together so Sky wouldn’t feel alone.
I hoped it would be enough to keep my daughter in their room tonight, as I needed real, deep sleep—the kind you couldn’t get with a four-year-old hogging your space.
It’d be a while before I could test the theory though.
I’d told Ben I’d help him bake pies for tomorrow, so after kissing my babies good night, I went down to the kitchen. My holiday spirit was in the negative numbers, but the least I could do was put on a brave face and not ruin Ben’s excitement.
“Sous baker, reporting for duty,” I said as I entered the kitchen, mustering up as much cheer as I could fake. There was a heavenly aroma permeating the main floor. The oven was on, and I suspected something was already baking.
Ben turned from the counter and focused all his attention on me as I washed my hands. “Hey.” His voice was low and caring, in contrast to my loud bluster. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m good,” I lied, fighting to keep up my nonchalance. It was that, or…I didn’t know what. Tears? Breaking down? Blubbering all over him? “Evelyn’s got a heart of gold.”
“She’s a pint-sized mother hen,” he said, his affection audible.
“Bossy on the surface, but that little girl cares deeply about her sister and your kids. She was all business during the search and had Xavier and Ruby marching from one end of the east property line to the other and back, right at her sides. The three of them came running when I told them I had Skyler.”
My nonchalance shattered as I imagined Ben returning to the house with my precious girl, the other kids rushing to them to dole out hugs. “Thank you,” I managed, my voice only cracking a little.
I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes, fighting for control over my emotions. I hadn’t had a moment to myself yet, by design. I just needed to make it another hour or however long pies took. Then I could disappear to my room, close my door, and sob into my pillow until I fell asleep.
Except Ben slid his arm around me from the side and squeezed my shoulders, his large palm strong and gentle at once.
It’d been a long, long time since I’d felt that kind of masculine touch from anyone, the kind that infused strength and support, that said, you’re not alone. Not romantic, not sexual, though it’d been just as long since I’d experienced those. They weren’t what I needed right now.
I hadn’t thought I needed anything from a man, as I had a tight circle of strong women in my life, the most supportive girlfriends I could ask for.
But something about Ben’s quiet strength and his unselfish offering had tears plummeting over the rims of my eyes and down my cheeks.
I wiped them away, slid my arm around his waist from the side, and allowed myself to lean into his shoulder for a few seconds.
“I don’t think Skyler will ever try running away again,” he said. “She was scared out there, so scared she wouldn’t come to me when I called at first.”
My heart squeezed even harder for my little girl. “She was hiding?”
“Behind an old, thick tree trunk.”
“How’d you get her to come out?” I asked.
“Promised her a cookie.”
An emotional laugh burst out of me. “Brilliant.”
“It was the first thing she asked for when we walked in the door. She devoured it before you got here.”
I couldn’t help a slight smile in spite of all the fear and sadness circling my head. “You know her well already.” I swallowed hard, determined to get the pie making over with so we could both go to bed. “Thank you doesn’t seem sufficient, but it’s all I’ve got.”
He pulled me closer into his side for a moment. “No thanks necessary, Emerson. She’s as close to being my own kid as she could be. Blake and your kids are basically family, even more so now that you’re staying here.”
I sniffled a final time and wiped away any remaining tears, still determined to wait until I was alone to unleash my fear, relief, and worry. After a deep, leveling breath, I stepped away and turned my attention to baking. “What needs to be done here? Where do we start?”
“The pies are finished,” Ben said, snapping back into kitchen mode. “Pumpkin’s baking and french silk’s in the refrigerator.”
“What? We’re supposed to do pies after the kids go to bed.” The aroma coming from the oven finally registered in my brain. Cinnamon, cloves, and pumpkin.
“You’re exhausted. I got them done while you were reading to the kids.”
“Wow. You’re fast and sneaky. What else do we need to get ready?”
“Thanksgiving dinner is locked and loaded. Nothing else to do tonight. I just have to finish cleaning my mess.”
Gratitude rose in every one of my cells.
I’d thought I knew Ben through and through, but living with him temporarily, I was seeing yet another side of him.
An amazing one. A guy who could cook? Who could make french silk pie?
Who could sense when I was about to collapse and shorten my to-do list accordingly?
“You are rare, Ben Holloway.” I let out my breath and nearly wilted with relief that my bedtime was considerably closer than I’d thought.
“Thank you for that too. My debt load increases even more.” I kept my voice light for the last bit, not wanting to incite yet another debate of whether I owed him or not.
I did. No question. “I’m helping you clean though. You need to sleep too.”
“If you insist.” He turned on the sink and poured in dish soap. “The pans need to be hand-washed. I’ll wash; you dry?”
“Deal.”
As he stacked pans and mixing bowls by the sink, I wiped down the counter. “You really think Sky won’t run off again?”
“I’d put today in the not-a-good-experience category for her. I really don’t think she will.”
She’d been extra clingy and full of hugs this evening, which I didn’t mind at all. I’d needed them as much as she had.
“Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. It’s going to be special,” he said.
I held in a groan.
Ben glanced over at me and chuckled. “It is. You’ll see. My kids love it, and I think yours will too. Then we’ll go to the tree-lighting ceremony in the evening.”
My kids did love the ceremony, but I hadn’t even thought about going yet. We’d had too much happening for me to be able to plan more than one day at a time. “Yeah,” I said on an exhalation. “Good idea.”
“That kicks off the holiday season. We’ll keep the kids so Christmased up, Skyler won’t have time to think about her worries.”
“Ugh.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.
“I know you’re not feeling it,” he said as he rinsed a saucepan. “I understand that more than you know.”
That made me laugh. “Okay, Ghost of Christmas Present.” I took the pan from him and dried it.
Instead of grinning, he went serious. “After Leeann died, the last thing I was up for was Christmas cheer. For years.”
I nodded. Blake’s death had definitely had that effect on me, but that was only a fraction of why I wasn’t busting out the red and green.
“When I bought this place, I very deliberately decided to make the holidays a magical time for my kids, even though I wasn’t feeling it.”
I eyed him sideways because I had a suspicion his “not feeling it” was different from mine.
“Really,” he insisted. “My heart was still heavy from Leeann’s death. My parents started their tradition of cruising over the holidays. I was overwhelmed from moving out here, being a single dad, building the clinic, all the things.”
“All the things,” I repeated, grasping on to something I felt in my soul. “Yes. What did you do? How’d you make yourself be holly jolly?”
“Faked it.”
I shot him another skeptical look as I put a pan in the cabinet.
“I made a list of holiday activities. Tree ceremony on the square. Cutting our own tree down and decorating it. Christmas concert at the high school. Cookies and candy making. Letters to Santa. Gingerbread houses.”
The thought of adding even half of those to my to-do list made me want to curl up in a ball and weep.
During this time of year, making sure my kids had a reasonably nutritional dinner was almost more than I could handle.
To me, the holidays meant a filled-to-the-brim schedule at the salon, requisite holiday parties and dinners, school programs, and gift buying.
This year I’d be managing it all for the first time without Kizzy’s help.
I kept my concerns to myself and tried to put a lid on my bone-deep dread. “That’s a big list. Obviously you made it through.” I forced lightness into my voice.
“A weird thing happened. About halfway through, I didn’t have to fake it anymore. Seeing my kids’ joy?” He shook his head and chuckled. “There’s nothing better.”
“How do you handle all of that on top of your clinic? And, you know, feeding them and getting them to school on time.”
“I get help when I need it. Colby, my office manager, goes above and beyond when I ask her. Berty’s a godsend year-round but especially in December.
She loves it as much as the rest of us, so that helps.
” He scrubbed the last pan. “I suspect Skyler will get so caught up in all the holiday stuff, she won’t have time to think about Kizzy’s house or the way things used to be. ”
“I hope you’re right.”
As Ben handed off another pan and I took it, he bumped his hip into mine. “We’ll get you into it too if you just give it a chance, Ems.”
“That sounds like a threat,” I said, but I couldn’t help smiling. Maybe it was the nickname. I’d been called Em plenty but never Ems.
“It is. You’re going to have fun or else.”