14 #2
Miranda sighed. “Yeah, it’s not likely I could get out of here very early in the morning anyway.”
“Then don’t.”
Miranda didn’t know what to say. Was his offer sincere generosity? Or simply pity? Maybe he felt guilty for his earlier abruptness. Or more likely this was just a pretense of hospitality for his daughter’s sake . . . so he could tell her that he’d tried to make amends.
“Look,” he said in a somber tone. “I read the letter that Emily wrote to Christmas Joy—expressing how sad she was that Santa never stopped at her house.” He shook his head.
“Well, it really got to me. I had no idea that Emily really believed in Santa Claus. And I never realized how much she’d been missing Christmas these past few years.
She never told me any of that. She always acted like everything was okay.
But I suppose it’s because she was used to it.
Ignoring Christmas is all she’s known . . . since she was three.”
“Except that Emily pays attention to what other kids are doing during the holidays.” Miranda remembered some comments Emily had made while they were making cookies. “She has friends at school, you know. They talk about things related to Christmas.”
“Yeah . . . I know. When Emily told her teacher that we don’t celebrate Christmas, he wondered if maybe we were Jewish.”
“I’m sure that seemed a reasonable explanation.”
“After reading Emily’s letter, I read the card that your friend Joy wrote to me. She was kind but direct.”
“That sounds like Joy.”
“Her card instructed me to open the big box immediately.” He let out a raggedy sigh. “So I did . . . and that got to me too.”
Miranda folded her arms across her front, studying him for a long moment as they stood face-to-face in the small space by the front door. Was this really the same guy who’d tried to bite off her head a few hours ago? He seemed so different.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what’s up with me.” He made a sheepish look. “I mean, I was a total jerk earlier. I really am sorry about that.”
Miranda glanced at the nearby sofa and chair. “Do you want to sit down? To talk?”
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She sunk down onto the sofa, pulling her legs up under her. “You’re welcome to visit my home. Be it ever so humble.”
“Thanks.” He sat down in the chair across from her. “Emily’s asleep now so she won’t miss me.”
“I’m curious about the contents of the big box that Joy wanted you to open tonight.”
“You don’t know what it is?”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“A nativity set. A really nice one with realistic-looking ceramic figures and a wooden stable. Ironically, it’s almost exactly like the one my folks had when I was a kid.
Not sure where that one went. A lot of stuff got lost after my folks split up.
But when I saw how excited Emily became when I opened it up—how much she loved setting all the pieces up with me—that’s when it hit me.
I’ve been robbing her of Christmas traditions. ”
Miranda felt a wave of relief. “Joy will be so thrilled to hear that, Marcus.”
“So I really did want to thank you. And more than that, I want to sincerely apologize.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” she assured him. “Your reaction was probably pretty natural. I’m sure it was a shock to walk into your home and find a stranger with your child. And I’m sure you felt blindsided by our Christmas intervention.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “I guess I needed an intervention.”
“Well, I’m hugely relieved to hear you’re no longer mad.” She suppressed a weary yawn. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re not going to have me arrested for trespassing and hauled to jail in the middle of the night.”
“Hardly.” He slowly stood. “Emily was so happy tonight. Well, except for the fact that you left so abruptly. But she’ll be relieved to discover you’re still here in the morning. You won’t leave before seeing her, will you? That would really make me look bad.”
“I won’t leave without telling her a proper goodbye. I promise.”
“Will you be warm enough out here? Good for the night?”
“Yes.” She waved a hand. “As you can feel, it’s rather toasty.”
“Very cozy and homey.” He reached for the door but didn’t open it.
She glanced around the motor home and smiled. “It is kind of sweet.”
“Thanks for hearing me out, Miranda. And no hard feelings, right?”
“No hard feelings,” she assured him.
“And thanks for coming—for the much-needed intervention.”
“No problem.” She watched him. Was he actually stalling?
“And thanks for giving me a second chance.” He grinned. “Don’t take this wrong, but I’m glad your RV got a dead battery. Emily will be too. How about joining us for breakfast in the morning?”
“Okay.” She tried not to appear overly excited. “Sounds good.”
“Probably not much before nine though.” He opened the door, letting a blast of cold air inside. “Since it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, I’ve decided not to go in to work. And I wouldn’t mind sleeping in.”
She nodded eagerly. “You and me both. I’ve been up since around five this morning. Sleeping in sounds lovely.”
“Well, I’ll let you get to bed then.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, lighting up his entire face in a way that sent an unexpected yet pleasant shiver down her spine. “Sleep well, Miranda. And thanks again,” he called as he stepped outside, solidly closing the door behind him.
Miranda felt strangely hopeful as she clicked the lock into place.
She also felt slightly stunned—as if she should pinch herself.
Had that conversation actually happened?
Had Marcus really appreciated everything after all?
Was his apology really genuine? Or was she simply asleep and enjoying a sweet dream?