16 #2
Marcus leaned forward with his hands dangling lifelessly between his knees.
“When Gillian realized I’d gotten the wrong Elmo, she was not happy.
And she told me I should’ve known better.
” He sighed. “Come to think of it, I did know better. But the store I’d gone to was sold out of them.
And the kid helping me assured me that they’d been out of them for weeks. ”
“Those are the kinds of toys you have to get early,” Miranda told him. “I know because my sister does all her Christmas shopping before Halloween. She claims the best kids’ stuff is always gone by Thanksgiving.”
He just nodded. “Anyway, Gillian was pretty upset and even though I told her it was pointless, she was determined to straighten it all out herself.”
Miranda felt a chill go down her spine as she surmised where this was going. Was it worth the emotional turmoil to replay it all now? Did Marcus really need this? But unable to think of a graceful way to stop him, she just sat there, watching helplessly as Marcus’s face creased with old pain.
“I’ve never really told anyone this, Miranda.
I’m not totally sure why I feel like I must tell you now, but I do.
” He sighed. “I didn’t want her to go to town.
It seemed senseless. And we got into a nasty little fight.
Fortunately, Emily was napping. But Gillian was so insistent that Emily had to have that doll that she stormed off.
” He pressed his lips tightly together and his eyes glistened.
“And that’s how she died?” Miranda asked in a quiet voice.
He slowly nodded. “Car wreck . . . just a mile from the house. I remember hearing the sirens and feeling sick inside . . . somehow I knew it was her. I wished it had been me.”
“I’m so sorry.” Miranda felt a lump in her throat.
“The driver of the semitruck fell asleep at the wheel. Head-on collision. Gillian died instantly.”
“Oh . . .” Miranda just shook her head as she let this soak in. “No wonder you turned against Christmas, Marcus. It makes sense to me now.”
“Looking back I can see how unfair it was,” he said. “Unfair to a little girl who’d lost her mother . . . and then lost Christmas too. I feel really badly about it. I was selfish.”
“But at least it’s behind you now,” Miranda reminded him. “You saw how happy Emily has been. You two should have lots of wonderful Christmases ahead.”
“Yes . . . thanks to Joy’s contest and your intervention.” He made a sad smile. “Thanks.”
“Is that why you’re still struggling? Do you feel guilty about enjoying Christmas after the way you lost your wife?” Miranda was trying to wrap her head around this but knew it was complicated.
“No . . . not exactly. I actually made my peace with Gillian a couple years ago, but by then I’d pretty much given up on Christmas. It was just easier to ignore it.” He shook his head.
Miranda felt slightly lost trying to figure out why he was here.
Why did he feel such a need to tell her all this?
And how was she supposed to deal with it?
How would Joy handle it? Of course, Joy would say something positive and uplifting and hopeful.
And that’s what Miranda should do too. “So from now on your Christmases will be so much better, Marcus. You and Emily are about to have your best Christmas ever. You should be feeling very happy.” She gave him her brightest smile.
“You really think so?”
“Of course,” she said confidently.
His expression lightened considerably. “How about your Christmas, Miranda? How is it going to be?”
“My Christmas?” She shrugged.
“Emily asked me to come talk to you about coming home with us for Christmas,” he said suddenly.
“Really? Emily sent you?” The breeze picked up and Miranda shivered in the cold.
“That’s right.” He nodded, but his expression was impossible to read. Was he waiting for her reaction?
Miranda realized that while they’d been talking the brilliant blue sky had been replaced by dull gray clouds and a wind was turning the air chilly and brisk. The thin velour hoodie was not cutting it.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “Want to go inside?”
Seeing he still had on his warm-looking down jacket, she stood. “I’ll just grab something warmer and we can stay out here.”
He nodded and, relieved for this short reprieve, she hurried inside.
As she ripped open a shopping bag, she tried to guess where Marcus was headed with this sudden invitation.
Was he trying to entice her back as Emily’s new friend?
Or was there something more going on here?
She shook out the brown parka she’d just bought, running her hand over the faux fur collar.
She yanked off the tags and slipped it on, relishing its luxurious warmth.
Maybe she shouldn’t question Marcus’s reasons.
Did they matter right now? She could just accept the invitation and figure it out as she went. What was the harm in that?
Or maybe not. Miranda took a peek at her new coat in the mirror behind the dinette table.
Nice. Suddenly she knew that it could be very foolhardy to listen to her heart instead of her head with this.
At this stage in life, she knew better. Warning herself to be careful, she headed back out of the RV.
“That looks warm and cozy,” Marcus said as she sat back down.
“It is.” She ran her hands down the smooth surface. “Kind of a Christmas present to myself.”
“It looks great on you.” He smiled approvingly.
“Well, I think it’s really sweet that Emily wants me to spend Christmas at your house, Marcus. But I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. I think I’ll have to pass.”
His smile faded. “Why?”
She shoved her hands in her pockets. “You want the truth?”
He nodded. “I was honest with you, Miranda. Please, be honest with me.”