Cheryl Wolverton - The Best Christmas Ever

That had been the beginning of Sarah’s separation from her family. She hadn’t been able to handle her parents attitude or Amy’s submissive acquiescence. She’d moved out almost immediately rather than face Justin and Amy together.

Looking back, Sarah realized part of moving out and breaking off her relations with her family had grown from her horror of the attraction she felt for the man who had, in her opinion, destroyed her family.

While she’d stubbornly hidden herself away, dear sweet Amy, who had always done exactly as her parents wished, had married Justin.

Now, though, Sarah had to wonder if perhaps Amy hadn’t fallen in love with Justin.

Actually, she didn’t want to think of that possibility at all. She didn’t want to know. She corrected herself. Yes, she did want to know but didn’t think she’d like the answer. She blushed, aware she shouldn’t feel this way unless she was still attracted to the man!

Forcing her mind from those thoughts, she started toward the stairs to start lunch. Justin had said he’d be home by two and she wanted to make sure she couldn’t be accused of easing off, even the first day of work.

“I’m home!”

The shout came from downstairs. Sarah smiled. “I’m up here, Mickie.”

The little girl came clattering up the stairs. Sarah met her in the hall. Mickie halted abruptly and her expression turned shy. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s at work. Didn’t he tell you?”

Mickie twisted her right foot from side to side. “I thought he might be back by now.”

Sarah smiled at the little girl and started to reach out for her.

“You left last night without saying goodbye,” the little girl admonished, stepping back so she could look Sarah in the eyes.

Sarah blinked, her smile leaving her face. Kneeling in front of Mickie, she took her hands. “That’s right. I did. I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry if it made you sad.”

Mickie shrugged. “Mama did the same thing.”

Sarah’s heart twisted.

Mickie raised her questioning gaze to Sarah’s. “Daddy said you’re going to be living here. You’re going to be the new housekeeper, and you’ll make me peanut butter sandwiches with grape jelly. Is that what you were doing up here? Moving in?”

The innocence of children. Sarah nodded. “I’m going to be in the old housekeeper’s room in case you ever need anything. And yes, I’ll be taking care of you when you’re home from school.”

She stood and held out her hand. “But I have to wonder if your daddy said that part about grape jelly-and-peanut butter sandwiches.”

Mickie wrinkled her freckled little nose. “Well, actually, Daddy said peanut butter sandwiches, but I like the grape jelly so I added that.”

Her little hand warmly clasped Sarah’s as they started down the stairs. “Well, what if I get you a snack of crackers with peanut butter and grape jelly then I’ll make whatever you want for lunch. Your daddy will be back by then and we can have a big meal, then a smaller one tonight.”

“You’ll be here tonight?”

Sarah didn’t pause, though she shuddered at the insecurities the young child must have felt since her mother’s death. “I promise.” Changing the subject, she asked, “What do you want me to make for dinner?”

In the kitchen she found the peanut butter and set it out with crackers while Mickie found the jelly.

“Fried chicken.”

Sarah paused in scooping out the peanut butter into a small bowl. “Fried chicken?” She should have limited her offer to anything baked. She hated frying.

“And a chocolate coconut cake for dessert.”

Sarah shook her head ruefully. She should have known. Amy had had a sweet tooth, too. “Well, I can do the fried chicken, but I’m not sure about the cake.”

Mickie frowned. She studied the crackers before looking back up at Sarah. “Chocolate coconut cake is my daddy’s favorite. The only time he gets it is if he makes it. But he doesn’t ever have time. Mommy used to make fried chicken and chocolate coconut cake for dessert. I know Daddy would just love it.” She slanted a look up at Sarah. “And so would I.”

Sarah sighed. She handed the plate of snacks to Mickie, then poured her a glass of milk. “I’ll see what I can do. So, you like coconut, do you?”

Mickie immediately denied it. “I don’t. But Daddy does. I just pick it off the top.”

So she really was thinking about her daddy. Sarah had thought the child was using a ploy. She still wasn’t sure if she was or not. But she found that right now it didn’t matter. After taking the chicken from the freezer, she set it in the microwave and punched the buttons to thaw it out. “What’s so special about today that you want to fix your daddy’s favorite meal.”

Mickie shrugged. “He can’t cook. I miss Mama’s cooking. Can’t you cook like her?”

Ah, Sarah thought. Emotions about her sister washed over her. Her sister, the quiet one, the domestic one, the one who had always been so perfect. “Not as well. But if your daddy is starving for good home-cooked meals—” Sarah winked at Mickie to hide the pain she felt “—then I suppose I can cook a few good meals for you both.”

Mickie smiled, satisfied.

Relieved, Sarah smiled back. The questions from a five-year-old who would very soon be six—in less than three months, in fact—had been harder than she’d anticipated. Still, it looked as though baby-sitting her was going to be easy. Sarah had survived her first test and had been accepted. How much harder could it be?

“What in the world! Mickie, what have you gotten into?”

Sarah stared in horror at the living room and dining room. White powder dusted everything. Following the trail to the dining-room table, she found Mickie standing in a chair with toy cooking utensils, covered in white from head to toe.

“I was making a cake, since you were busy cooking chicken.”

Mickie sneezed, then wiped a grimy hand across her face, smearing the white stuff again. She shook her head and a white cloud was released from her formerly brown hair.

“But I told you I’d try to get to it!” Sarah stared blankly at the mess. It was going to take her an hour to clean this up and there was no telling when Justin would be home.

Mickie’s shoulders drooped. “I was only trying to help.”

Realizing she had hurt Mickie’s feelings released Sarah from her inability to react. She went forward and, with only a small reluctance at how dirty she was going to get, gathered Mickie in her arms. “It’s okay. Let’s go upstairs and run you some bathwater, then I’ll clean up the mess.”

“I just wanted Daddy to have a cake. He says I’m his little helper.”

“It’s okay. Really. But maybe next time,” Sarah said, going upstairs, “we should do this together. Until you can prove to me you know how,” she added, and filled the tub for Mickie.

“Mrs. Winters never would let me. She doesn’t like messes.”

“Well,” Sarah said, stripping the little girl and helping her into the tub, “I don’t mind a mess if we do it together. You see, that’s the only way to learn. Now, if you promise not to try it by yourself again, maybe next week we can make some cookies together.”

Mickie’s eyes lit with excitement. “Really?”

“Really.”

Sarah quickly washed Mickie’s hair, then allowed Mickie to finish up. When she was done, she dried her off. “Can you pick out your clothes by yourself?”

Mickie gave her an exasperated look. “I’m not a baby,” she said. “I’ll be six January 10.”

Sarah bit back a smile. “Of course. I’ll be downstairs cleaning up the dining room. The chicken is done. I only have to finish vegetables and potatoes to finish. You can go get out three plates and the silverware while I clean up and finish fixing dinner.”