Linda Goodnight - The Christmas Family

“There are good guys out there, hon. Guys like Brady Buchanon. His cute twin brothers, too.”

A funny little twitter went off in Abby’s belly. She clattered a fork onto a plate and ignored the feeling. “I have Lila. She’s all I need.”

“So why did Brady leave such a fat tip this morning?”

“Not because he’s after me, that’s for sure.” She forced a laugh, surprised to be bothered by that truth. “Remember how the Buchanons give away a home makeover every Christmas?”

“Sure. The makeover is a big deal. A really big deal.” Charla slapped a bleach rag against the tabletop as her eyes widened. “You don’t mean—”

“Brady offered it to me.”

“Abby! That’s amazing. Congratulations. No one deserves a new home more than you.”

“I turned him down.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?”

“I don’t need their help, Char. I can take care of my daughter and my house and my life without anyone.”

“Oh, Abby.” Charla looked at her with sympathy. Dishes rattled as they stacked them on the cart. “Sometimes you’re too independent for your own good. Warren really did a number on you.”

Warren wasn’t the only one though, admittedly, he’d been the latest in bad decisions that had come back to bite her. Abby was smart enough to know her background made her wary. Nobody did something for nothing. Stick your heart out there and it would get tromped. Every time. If trying to fit into a family and failing at age thirteen hadn’t proved that, Warren had.

Big, beautiful Brady Buchanon would have to find someone else to feel sorry for.

She stuck his twenty dollars into her pocket and debated on giving it back.

* * *

Lila’s play school telephoned an hour before Abby’s shift ended.

“For you, Abby,” Jan called, holding her hand over the mouthpiece. “Christina at the play school.”

The café was in the lull shortly before dinner hour and Abby was in the middle of filling and wiping down saltshakers. She recapped the latest one and went to the phone.

“Sorry,” she said to Jan. “I’m out of minutes for my phone.” But with Christmas coming, she was holding off on the purchase as long as possible.

“You know I don’t care when it’s important.” Her boss, a sturdy, energetic woman with close-cropped blond waves, winked. “Lila’s always important.”

“Thanks, Jan.” Her boss was good to her so Abby never wanted to take advantage. She took the phone and said, “Hello.”

A minute later she hung up. “Jan, Lila had a bathroom accident at school. I really have to go over there, but I’ll come back as soon as I take care of her.”

Jan glanced around the quiet café. “Charla and I can handle it for an hour until Mercy gets here. Get Lila and go on home. Tell her accidents happen to everyone.”

But they happened to Lila more than most. While her potty training had progressed to a good schedule considering the nerve damage below the waist, on occasion she had an accident.

Abby didn’t know whether to be grateful for her boss’s understanding or worried. She needed the hour on her paycheck, but Lila came first. “I’ll see you at five-thirty in the morning then?”

“Deal.” Jan waved her off.

The streets of Gabriel’s Crossing bustled with Christmas preparations. City workers in cherry pickers were draping strands of green lighted garland from one side of First Street to the other. In the center of each garland was a huge green wreath with artificial candles and a big red bow.

Just looking at the decorations going up everywhere filled her with excited dread. She loved seeing Lila’s excitement but wished she could give her more. Lila didn’t even have grandparents or other relatives to spoil her and buy her things.

But that was okay. They didn’t need anyone else. They had each other.

She swung by the house to pick up a change of clothes and reached Huckleberry Play School soon thereafter.

Greeted by Christina, the owner/operator of the day care where Lila had gone for the past year, Abby fretted. One of the rules of this facility was that children had to be potty trained. The staff accommodated Lila’s special needs in other ways, but this was a rule for all children, not just Lila.

“I’m really sorry about this, Christina. Lila’s been doing so well.”

“She has. Don’t worry about it this time, but if she regresses, we’ll need to talk again.”

“I understand.” Truly she did, but this was the only preschool in town that accommodated Abby’s long hours and odd work days. Plus, Lila loved it here. Abby wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to find another placement.

“Lila is waiting in my office,” Christina said. “She was very upset.”

Abby hurried to the office and found her red-eyed daughter sitting with her small legs dangling from an adult chair. Chin on her chest, mouth tilted down, Lila was the picture of dejection.

Abby’s heart broke at the sight. Her chest clutched as she gathered her child into her arms. “Hey, jelly fingers. Mom’s here, and I brought your favorite outfit to change into.”

“My jammies?” Lila asked hopefully.

Around a lump in her throat, Abby managed a chuckle. “We’ll get into those after a bath at home. Okay? For now, how about your pink princess set?”

Lila sniffed, long and shuddery, and nodded her head.

Abby gathered her child into her arms and carried her to the bathroom to change, and then they headed home.

The usually chatty Lila said little in the car, though Abby tried to start distracting conversations about Christmas.

“Lila,” Abby said, as they pulled into the blacktop drive and parked. “Accidents happen. Miss Jan said to remind you of that. You’re doing great, and I’m proud of you.”

“Will I ever be big like other kids?”

Unexpected tears jammed the back of Abby’s nose and throat. She’d been dealing with the effects of Lila’s mild spina bifida for years, but, instead of getting easier as Lila grew old enough to notice the world around her, the task became harder.

“You will always be the most awesome Lila in the world.”

For now, this was enough to bring the faintest glimmer of a smile to her daughter’s face. But how long before a nonanswer was not enough?

Heart heavy, Abby gathered her child into her arms and started to the house. As she stepped up on the porch, keys in one hand and Lila on her hip, the board she’d warned Brady Buchanon about gave way.

Her foot caught in the broken board and Abby struggled to maintain her balance. Struggled and failed. Instinctively trying to protect Lila, she twisted to the left and tumbled onto the porch in a heap. She lost her grip, and Lila hit the wooden porch and started to cry.

“Are you hurt? Oh, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay.” In a panic, Abby scrambled to her feet and pulled Lila into her arms, searching for blood or bruises. With her nerve impairment, Lila didn’t always know when she was injured.

Once she was certain no real emergency existed, Abby opened the door and carried Lila inside the living room. Both of them were shaking. She had never dropped her daughter. Never.

Lila curled up on the couch and sniveled. This hadn’t been her best day.

Abby scooted onto the couch beside her daughter and laid her head against Lila’s. “I’m sorry, baby. Do you hurt anyplace?”

“Uh-uh. Can I have a drink?” The usually sunny child sounded so small and pitiful Abby wanted to cry.

“Sure, you can.” Abby pushed off the couch and went into the kitchen, adrenaline still pumping from the scare. “Stupid board. Stupid old house. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

As she railed against the accident, she opened the cabinet for a glass, and another chip of paint fell from the overpainted wood.