11. Ginger
11
GINGER
I have barely caught my breath by the time I make it back inside to the children’s ward. Disentangling from Ashley didn’t prove awkward. He laughed with me as we straightened our clothes, and he helped tame my hair before we separated ways.
Still, the jittery feeling of what we did in that alcove sticks with me as I approach the story-reading display. Samantha slides up to me with an anxious look.
“You call me?” I reach to put my hair up, but my hair tie is missing from my wrist, so I drop my hands and my hair. It’s a mess I’m sure.
“No. That was Sally, but she left me here to deliver the news. Our story-time volunteer canceled. She has an emergency. We need someone to read to the kids.” Her blonde brows are high on her head with anxiety, and I feel for her. I really do. But anxiety has been my companion for the last week.
“Okay. I’ve got it from here. Go back to whatever job I gave you.”
She smiles at me with relief and scampers off.
I finally let myself sigh with frustration. This was the opening for the terminal kids in the hospital. A special treat of a practiced storyteller with special Christmas puppets to entertain them while they eat lunch.
Rubbing my face, I pull myself together and think.
“Mom?” The sound of my daughter’s voice is a balm to every aching part of me. I turn and smile at her.
I look around. “Where’s Grandma and Grandpa? Did they abandon you?”
“No, they’re still hard at work.” A jolt of adrenaline hits me in the chest as I turn to Jackson. He’s got his most charming smile on. And beside him is his clone in teenage girl form. We haven’t been introduced yet.
“Did they get sidetracked with the food?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I let out another sigh, but maybe my mom could come read. She does love to entertain, although she’s better when food’s involved. It’s a comfort zone for the both of us.
“What’s gone wrong?” Jackson, of course, knows how often things go awry with this type of event. It’s why he hired me instead of taking care of it himself.
“Lost our story-time volunteer. I need someone who can at least read to them. I’m at a loss with the puppets, though.” Rubbing my forehead, I try not to frown and think through my options.
“I can read to them. I read to the kindergarteners at my school once a month.” Jackson’s daughter bobs on her feet and offers me a tentative smile. A hopeful one.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve officially met. How rude of me. I’m Ginger. You must be Emily.” I hold my hand out to her, and she shakes it with a bit more confidence.
“I am. Nice to meet you.”
“Manners. I like it. And if you think you can take over, I’ll have the staff find you something to read.”
“I want to help,” Gracie says. “I can do the puppets.”
I look at Emily, and she nods.
“That sounds amazing. Why don’t you two go have a look at the set? Get familiar with it, and we’ll get started at noon. Okay?” I check my phone. “Thirty minutes. Yeah?”
Gracie claps her hands, and Emily escorts my daughter to the setup for story time. I flag down one of the other volunteers to find us an appropriate book. Once they’re on task, I reach up to pull my hair into a bun and am reminded that I lost my hair tie.
I know exactly where it is. Out on the side of the hospital where Ashley pulled it free to kiss me harder. I huff out of frustration and drop my hands to my hips.
Jackson holds out a hairband and tries to hide his smile. He fails, flashing it when I take it and wrap my hair into a knot on top of my head.
“How do you have one of these at the ready?” Not that I’m complaining.
“One, I’m the father of a teenage girl who loses them like they’re homework. And two, I work with women all day. I’ve learned to carry a few in my wallet for emergencies.” His shoulder bumps mine as our gazes meet.
If only I had another moment to drag him into a closet and thank him with a big kiss. My hormones must be revving up, because I’m never this needy. Still, the desire burns low in my gut.
That same heat flares in his gaze before we both come back to where we are and how inappropriate staring at each other is. I look around the space andthen check my phone. Twenty minutes.
“I’d better check on the lunch they’re supposed to have here for story time before it starts. Can you keep an eye on all of this?”
Jackson nods. “Easy peasy.”
“Sure,” I say. “Because nothing is easy or peasy about planning a big event.”
His laugh echoes mine as I speed walk away. Mom is right where I know she’ll be, helping set up the treats. She’s grace personified, her salt and pepper hair styled perfectly to showcase her beauty.
Mom wraps me in her arms and rocks me side to side for a moment like she didn’t see me this morning. “You look frazzled.”
“Not at the moment, but give it a few minutes. I’m looking for the kiddos’ lunch. Gracie and Emily are going to read to them, and I want to be there when it starts.” I detach myself from my mother’s embrace and peer around to my mom’s best friend.
“I’ve got them, Ging. They’re back here in the warmer.” Caroline grabs them as Mom pinches my cheeks.
“So flushed, baby. Try to have some fun. Too much work makes nobody happy.”
“I’m not sure that’s the saying, Mom, but once I’m doing my elf thing, I’ll stop worrying so much. Deal?” I plant a kiss on her cheek and take the box of lunches from Caroline before I’m off again.
Somehow, I make it back without being accosted about something or other. I grab Jackson’s arm as I return, and he turns his full smile on me. “How are they doing?”
He takes the box from me without needing to ask. “Good. I think they’ve got a plan in place.”
I sigh with relief. “Good.”
Jackson walks off with the food and collaborates with a nurse on the distribution. I sense someone hovering behind me before I find Sawyer practically towering over me. “Need anything?”
The low timber of his voice sends a chill down my spine and heat spreads in its wake. “I don’t think…”
“ Mom .” Gracie appears at my side, tugging on my sleeve, her voice low and tense. “There’s something wrong with the puppet stage.”
“The what?”
“Where the puppets perform.” Her blue eyes are wide and earnest.
“What’s wrong with it?” I smooth her light auburn hair from her face.
“It won’t stay upright.” Gracie’s mouth turns down.
I stand and see Sawyer still hovering behind me, concern creasing his usually stoic features. “Think you can do your handy thing and fix up the puppet booth?
His gaze locks on mine for a second, and I swear the entire world disappears for that short time before I plummet back to earth. “Yes.”
“Thank you. Hear that, Gracie? Sawyer is going to help you. Okay? He’s extra good with wood and tools.” I swear I hear him laugh but am unable to catch his smile—just the hint ghosting the corner of his mouth. “Go show him, pumpkin.”
“This way,” she says with a command and confidence that rivals my own. Watching Sawyer, who’s practically a giant next to my daughter, follow her lead and crouch down to take a look at the little display is priceless.
My insides go gooey.
Everything is going smoothly as the kids file in to sit on the floor, or are rolled into the room in wheelchairs. A few are also in their hospital beds as Sawyer gets the curtain set, and Emily takes her seat with a book in her hand.
Jackson helps hand out lunches, and I hand out extra blankets and pillows for them to get comfortable. Once it’s all set, Jackson and Sawyer flank me on either side to watch the start of the show.
The curtain draws back with a flair as Emily reads. Gracie does a dramatic but good job ofmaking the characters do as the story dictates. Wrapping my arms around myself, I have to cover my mouth to keep from crying.
Sometimes, being a mom is so overwhelmingly amazing, that I struggle to control my emotions. I’m just so proud of my baby and all of her talent. Gracie is so creative and smart.
The kids nearly forget their food as they watch with wide eyes.
Tears wet the corners of my eyes before I wipe them away. Sawyer’s hand finds my elbow, drawing me out of the experience. He nods toward the hallway, where someone waves me over frantically.
Excellent. Another fire to put out.
I take another long look at my baby doing her thing before I run off to do my job. It’s Sally, and her frown immediately worries me.
“We’re missing your elf costume and the reindeer antlers for picture time.” The worry on her face has me patting her shoulder.
“I know just where they were left. I’ll grab them.”
She nods, and I’m off, back to the office where they’re sitting plain as day on my extra chair by the door. The bag is in my hand, and I’m halfway down the hall when I hear the front door open and close.
Hovering at the top of the stairs, I wait. Am I going to need to lock myself in the master bedroom and climb out the window? I’ll probably break my neck in the process, but I certainly can’t fight whoever’s broken in. Well, walked in, because I didn’t lock the door behind me.
A hulking man appears in the kitchen and meanders to the bottom of the stairs, and I heave a sigh of relief. “Sawyer. What are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me.”
His stormy eyes narrow as he looks at me. “Why didn’t you lock the door after you?”
My brows jump high on my forehead, and I start the descent down to him. “Was that more than three words strung together for my benefit?”
But he’s not smiling. His frown is deep and a little scary. “What if I’d been someone else?”
The roughness of his usually low voice sucker punches me under the ribs. I pause a few steps away.
“I’d have locked myself in the bathroom and called for help.”
That only makes him glower harder. “Not acceptable.”
“Well, there’s the two-word response I’m used to.” I take another step down. “I only planned on being in and out.”
The last step separating us disappears, and he doesn’t back away.
“Next time, lock the door.”
I nod, my hand smoothing up his chest and over one shoulder. Finally, after a handful of heartbeats, he softens. My hand makes its way to the base of his throat and the bare skin there. It’s hot, and his pulse rages against my fingers.
“Are you going to punish me for not behaving better?” My thumb glides up his throat, over his Adam's apple as he swallows. “Take advantage of me?”
A breath puffs from between those stern lips. Today doesn’t seem to be the day for self-control because suddenly, I’m leaning forward without much thought other than that I really want to kiss him.
So, I do.