Beth Carpenter - A Gift For Santa

“Dana. And no. She’s from Kansas.” He lifted the parts of the Santa throne from the truck. “She’s my sister.”

“You have a sister?” Marissa stared at him. How could she not know that? She’d almost married the man, for heaven’s sake.

“Half sister, technically.”

“She wasn’t on the guest list for the wedding.” Marissa blurted it out before she thought, instantly wishing she could recall the words. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about the wedding that never happened.

But the reference didn’t seem to faze Chris. He just kept on unloading. “Long story short, I hadn’t been in touch with my family since I left home when I was twenty-one. Dana literally showed up on my doorstep this past summer, after my father died.”

“I can’t believe you have a sister.” Marissa wasn’t sure why she found that so surprising. Chris never talked about family, seldom mentioning his life before he came to Alaska, and she’d inferred he must be estranged from his parents. But for some reason, she’d never pictured siblings. Maybe because she didn’t have any. “Any other family?”

“Only my mom. That is, my stepmother. She still lives in Kansas.”

“Is your sister older or younger?”

“Dana’s my little sister. She was sixteen when I left home.”

“And you’ve never seen her since?”

“Not until this summer. Now that we’re living in the same house, we’re seeing a lot of each other.”

Marissa tried to imagine it. “What’s she like?”

“Dana? She’s a sweetheart. You’d like her. She’s in college right now, updating her credentials. She wants to teach math.” Chris spoke about this sister he’d never mentioned with a casual fondness, like any brother talking about a younger sibling. Marissa was beginning to wonder if she’d ever known Chris at all.

“So whatever it was that made you leave your family, it’s resolved?”

“Yep.” He closed the tailgate. Marissa ached to know the rest of that story, but Chris obviously wasn’t inclined to share.

Not that it was any of her business. Not anymore. “And your sister is married to Sam, the confirmed bachelor?”

“That’s right.” He grinned. “You should see them together. It’s a little sickening.”

“Oh?”

He chuckled. “Way too much giggling and whispering. Sam goes around with this goofy grin on his face.”

Marissa thought back to the ambitious young engineer she’d known. She’d always liked Sam. She felt a certain kinship with him, since he’d lost his parents and been raised by someone else, as well. Marissa had met his auntie Ursula, and it was clear he adored her as much as Marissa adored Oliver and Becky.

She’d like to talk to him herself, to meet his wife and offer her best wishes. But she’d seen Sam only once after she broke the engagement to his best friend, and he’d been far from friendly. He wouldn’t want to talk with her now. Still... “I’m glad he’s happy.”

“Yeah. Me, too. I’ll carry this stuff in and come back for the next load, okay?”

“Sure. And when you see Sam, tell him I said congratulations.”

“Will do.”

* * *

THE NEXT DAY, Chris slept in. No use jumping out of bed. No snow meant no work and no skiing, just time to kill. If he were willing to drive up to the mountains, he might be able to find enough snow to run his snow machine, but when he’d been hauling snow the other day, conditions looked poor. He finally dragged himself into the shower and pulled on some clothes. He was almost glad when he noticed his overflowing hamper. At last, something to do.

He went upstairs and poured a cup of coffee from the pot. Another perk of having Dana around. A bouquet of red carnations on the kitchen table emitted a spicy odor that blended nicely with the scent of coffee. No sign of his sister, but if the coffeemaker was on, she must be around.

A few minutes later, a door opened and Dana came down the hall, her arms full of books and Kimmik at her heels. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Chris took a sip of coffee. “I’m washing. Got any laundry you want to throw in?”

She dropped the books on the island and dug in the kitchen drawer for a pen. “Maybe some towels. What are you doing home?” She tucked the books and pen into a backpack.

“Nothing to do at work, and I’m not scheduled for a party until tomorrow. I gave Kenny the day off.”

“Well, if you’re looking for something to do, you could check the gate and make sure Kimmik can’t open it. And if you want to get the towels from our hamper and wash them, that would be great.”

“Sam get out okay this morning?”

Dana’s face lit up at the mention of Sam’s name. “Yes, but he’ll be home for Christmas.” She paused. “He told me about the girl you were engaged to. I’m sorry.”

Chris shrugged. “Don’t be. It was over a long time ago.”

“But it’s her family’s reindeer business you’re working for, right?”

“Yeah. Her uncle always played Santa, but he’s sick, so they need a sub. No big deal. It’s only until Christmas.”

“So there’s no chance of the two of you getting back together?” Dana shrugged into her coat. He wasn’t sure if she was hopeful or wary, but it didn’t matter. He and Marissa were over.

“None. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Dana stopped in the middle of reaching for her keys. “I’m getting together with some friends for a movie tonight. Want to come?”

“No, thanks. You have fun.”

She threw a look of concern over her shoulder on her way out the door, but finally left him in peace. He smiled and shook his head. Funny girl. When he and Dana were growing up, their mother had basically checked out, spending all her time compulsively shopping rather than nurturing her family. In spite of that, or maybe because of it, Dana had developed a strong mothering instinct. With no other outlet, she’d focused that instinct on him. Never mind he was five years older than her or that they’d been apart for nineteen years; she was convinced he couldn’t cross the street without her. Not that he really minded. It was fun having his little sister around again.

She had no reason to worry about him, at least when it came to Marissa. Chris had never had much trouble finding female companionship whenever the mood struck. He wasn’t so lonely he was likely to start mooning over the one woman he knew for sure didn’t want him. There were a dozen women he could call if he felt like a date. But he didn’t call them.

Instead, he gathered up the laundry and started a load. Then he decided to surprise Dana by vacuuming and cleaning. It was only fair. She was busy and he wasn’t. It was midafternoon when he remembered about the gate. He pulled on boots, and was reaching for his jacket when he glanced out the window to see Ryan lifting the latch and calling Kimmik outside. By the time Chris pulled on his coat and made it to the door, boy and dog were playing fetch in the cul-de-sac.

“Hey, Ryan.”

The boy looked up, eyes wide and startled, but then turned his back and threw the stick again. Kimmik ran after it and galloped back, carrying it in his mouth with his head held high.

Chris trotted over to the boy. “Ryan, you can’t just be letting the dog out of the yard without asking.”

Ryan took the stick and threw it again. “He got out. Maybe he dug a hole.”

“I saw you open the gate.”

The kid raised his chin. “Well, he’s lonely. You don’t ever play with him.”

“I do, but you’re right, not as much as he’d like. Ryan, I don’t mind you playing with the dog, but you have to ask first. You can’t just take somebody else’s dog without permission.”

“If he was my dog, I’d take good care of him. I’d play with him and brush him and feed him.” He patted Kimmik on the head and threw the stick again. “You should take better care of your dog.”