Tanya Michaels: Mistletoe Mommy

Reminding himself that Eliza was in plain sight and therefore perfectly safe, Adam dug a medical journal out of his bag. He even made a halfhearted attempt to read an article about the rise of robot-assisted cardiothoracic procedures. Mostly he skimmed while keeping one ear on his daughter and the punk. Minimized trauma, reduced risk of infection.

“So, have you ever, like, saved anyone?” Eliza asked.

“Sure. Just last week I jumped in to rescue a lady with a cramp in her leg. And this kid who panicked and was flailing like crazy.”

Faster recovery time, wave of the future, blah, blah, blah.

“But I’ve never given mouth-to-mouth,” Punk added smarmily. “At least, not in the line of duty. During my off-hours-”

Adam shot out of his chair, tipping it sideways with his sudden movement. It clattered against the pavement, drawing the notice of just about everyone-including his daughter and the punk lifeguard at whom he happened to be glaring. Now what, O Father of the Year?

He hadn’t really leaped up with any sort of plan. It had simply been an instinctive reaction. But judging from the mingled horror and fury settling across his daughter’s face, that explanation was not going to mollify her. Especially since it would involve him admitting that he’d been listening to her private conversation in the first place.

“Uh…” The lifeguard glanced from Adam back to Eliza, his earlier smirk gone. Looking pale beneath his tan, the kid jerked his thumb up at the elevated seat. “I’d better get back to work.”

“Yeah. Nice talking to you,” Eliza said through gritted teeth. She ducked her head, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she was curling in on herself in hopes of becoming invisible, and stalked toward her father.

Adam assumed she was making a beeline for confrontation, but her gait never slowed as she neared. Instead, she strode past, exiting the pool area. He experienced a stab of indecision so intense it was almost panic. Should he give her space? For all he knew, she was excusing herself to go to the bathhouse for an adolescent cry. That you caused. Then again, did he know for an absolute certainty that she wouldn’t do something dramatic like run away? Try to hitch back to Tennessee?

This was excruciating. In the O.R., he didn’t second-guess himself. He took decisive actions and saved lives.

“Geoff, keep your sister in the shallow end until I get back,” he called over his shoulder. Giving a girl “space” might sound like a sensitive, insightful parenting move, but Adam rejected it after a moment’s thought. She was twelve. While she might have the right to be angry with him, she did not have the same right to storm off alone into the forest or down toward the river.

“Eliza!” Though she didn’t overtly speed up to evade him, she didn’t stop, either. “Hey, I know you hear me. Slow down so we can talk about this.”

When she actually did stop, he released a tense breath. He hadn’t known if she would-or what he’d do in the face of direct disobedience.

She whipped her head around, and his heart clutched at the sight of her watery eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want to be here! I could have stayed with friends while Mom and Dan are away.”

Adam tried not to take her words personally. Didn’t all children go through an “I hate you” phase as an automatic part of growing up and wrestling with independence? “This trip wasn’t about your mom needing a babysitter. It was about me wanting to spend time with you guys.”

“Do you even care what we want? Geoff was freaked out when you said you were taking us away for so long. He’s worried Gina will meet someone else before we get back. And Morgan-”

“-is having a blast. She told me so herself. I think if you give this vacation a chance, we could all have fun.”

“I was trying to! I was making a new friend. A cute friend who probably wants nothing to do with me now that you practically lunged at him from across the pool.”

“I…He was too old for you.”

She snorted. “Oh, I didn’t know there were age limits for who I was allowed to talk to!”

“I’m sorry I upset you, but I’m still your father. Rein in the sarcasm.”

When she opened her mouth to retort, he braced himself, but no scathing reply came. Her tears brimmed over, escalating quickly to actual sobs. She covered her face with her hands.

“What can I do?” Adam asked softly. “We’re together for the next eighteen days, and I don’t want it to be miserable for you. What can I do to make it better?”

She sniffed. “Just give me the room key. Please? I want to go lie down.”

“All right.” He handed over the key ring bearing the Chattavista logo-no modern key cards here. “Lock the door behind you, though. I’ll get a spare from the front desk later.”

“Fine.”

When he turned back toward the pool, he was surprised to find Geoff and Morgan watching through the fence, both their faces apprehensive.

“You guys tired of swimming?” he asked, heading toward them.

Morgan held up her hands. “I’m getting wrinkly. The lady who gave us the checkers game said she had coloring books, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, she was happily coloring pictures of farm animals back on the lodge porch. Adam and Geoff sat at a nearby table, setting up a game of backgammon.

“Geoff…when I told you guys about this trip, did you want to come?”

The teenager flinched. “Th-this trip?”

Adam got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It’s okay, son. You can tell me the truth.”

Geoff looked away. “I like fishing. And it would be really cool to go rafting.”

“Do you miss Gina?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.” He seemed surprised by the question. “But, jeez, it’s only been two days. It’s just…most of the other guys are like that bozo back at the pool, working summer jobs to save up for a car. Not to mention cash for the movies and music downloads and stuff. Mom lets me cut lawns and stuff in the neighborhood, but she won’t let me apply for any real jobs during the school year.”

And Adam had thoughtlessly wiped out three weeks of prime earning potential. Hell. “I guess you’re at an age where I can’t say I’m sorry with ice cream?”

Geoff eyed the backgammon pieces. “Do you mind if I take a rain check on this? I think I’m gonna go back to the room and catch the Braves game on TV.”

“Sure. Don’t turn it up too loud, though. Your sister might be taking a nap.”

And then there was one.

Deflated, Adam joined Morgan and helped her polka-dot animals. She’d started with a dalmatian and decided to continue the theme with a green-speckled cow and purple-spotted sheep.

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. “There it is! My kitty!”

Sure enough, peeking out from the edge of some bushes was a small, charcoal-colored cat. Adam couldn’t get a clear look at it among the leaves and branches, but he could tell there was no collar.

“Here, kitty.” Morgan made some soft noises, a combination of tongue-clucks and kissing sounds.

The feline cocked its head, then took a few tentative steps forward with its front legs low to the ground. Its mew was plaintive.

Morgan’s pale blue eyes lit up with joy. “Daddy, it answered me!” She shot to her feet, then headed down the stairs.

“Now wait just a second. You can’t just go up to strange animals.” Not that the tiny piece of fluff looked feral or rabid.

Even though his warning slowed Morgan-she stood immobile on the bottom step-it did nothing to deter the young cat. It crept forward, mewing again with more volume.