Joan Kilby - A Mom for Christmas

“The last I heard she was trying to get a flight. Let’s not stand around in the hall. Give me that wet coat and come into the living room. Boots off, too, please—the carpets, you know. Aidan isn’t here yet so you’re in time to meet Emily.” June helped her out of her damp jacket, and hung it on the newel post at the base of the staircase.

As June spoke, Nicola caught a glimpse of a small blond head peeking around the door frame behind her aunt’s back. No sooner did Nicola meet the girl’s shy blue gaze than she ducked out of sight.

Nicola levered her feet out of her hiking boots and followed June into the elegant and formal living room, eager to get to know the little girl she’d thought about so often over the years. June had sent photos of Emily to Nicola’s mother every Christmas, but without Charmaine’s chatty letters Nicola knew few details about the girl. Nicola had written to Aidan after the funeral to express her condolences, but he’d never answered her letter and she hadn’t pursued further correspondence.

“Emily,” June called, glancing around. A toy tea set laid for two had been abandoned near the base of an artificial Christmas tree with silver needles and red ornaments. “Your cousin Nicola’s here from Australia. Come out and say hello like a good girl.” June met Nicola’s gaze apologetically, explaining in an undertone, “She’s bashful at first but once she gets to know you, she’s very charming, just like her mother.” Speaking louder, she tried to coax Emily, “We’re not playing hide-and-seek now, sweetheart.”

“Leave her,” Nicola begged, knowing firsthand how painful it was to be shy. “She’ll come out when she’s ready.”

“I suppose so,” June said. “If only her father would encourage her to be more social instead of hiding away with her like a hermit.”

Nicola was surprised at her aunt’s disapproving tone. She nodded to the sofa where the girl crouched out of sight. “Is there a problem?”

“Not with her. It’s him. I won’t go into it now. Little pitchers have big ears, if you know what I mean.” She gestured to the antique sofa. “Sit down and tell me all about your work. I must say, you haven’t changed. You look exactly the same as the day you left Whistler.”

Considering Nicola had been fifteen when she’d left and was now twenty-seven she wasn’t sure her aunt’s assessment was entirely complimentary even if it was largely accurate. She had the same chin-length blunt cut brown hair and the same waifish figure clad in bulky clothes of neutral shades that tended to blend in with her surroundings. Not that she was exactly color-coordinated with the pale-pink brocade covering June’s sofa.

In a few words she related the highlights of her career so far; taking photos of children with Santa Claus, graduating to studio portrait work, evolving to calendars and tourism assignments and finally culminating in her present job, freelance travel photography.

As she spoke she could hear faint scuffling sounds coming from behind the sofa where Emily was hiding. June went out of the room after murmuring something about coffee and Nicola was tempted to peek over the back to say hello. Instead she waited to see what Emily would do. The girl didn’t emerge.

Before long June returned with a tray bearing a pair of bone china coffee cups. Nicola glanced around for something to protect the polished surface of the pie-crust table at her elbow. She’d forgotten how intimidating her aunt’s home could be for someone used to putting her stocking feet up on the furniture and eating her dinner off her lap in front of the TV.

June supplied her with a coaster and sat beside her. “Tell me more about this book you’re working on.”

“Reiner’s been commissioned to do a coffee-table book on the ski resorts of Canada and the United States. He’s asked me to take the photos. It’s a fantastic opportunity professionally, plus I get to travel, visit my family and ski all the best mountains in North America.” Nicola paused to sip her coffee. “I haven’t done much skiing since moving to Australia and I miss it. Charmaine and I used to spend all our spare time on the mountain when we were girls.”

June’s face tightened, her smile freezing. “I remember.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicola murmured, kicking herself for referring to her cousin in the context of Whistler Mountain. “Her loss must still be painful for you.”

“It always will be.” The awkward silence was broken by the sound of a car turning into the driveway. June exhaled in relief and rose to go out to the hall. “That will be Aidan. Don’t worry, he won’t stay long.”

Emily popped up from behind the sofa and pressed her nose to the window, her small hands shielding her eyes to peer into the darkness. Her entire attention was on her father’s arrival, as if she’d been waiting for this moment the whole day. Nicola thought she seemed small for her age, more like a four- or five-year-old than a child of six. Odd, since Charmaine had been tall and Aidan was at least six foot two. Before Nicola could say hello Emily squeezed out from behind the sofa and in a blur of pink wool and purple corduroy, ran to the front door.

Nicola listened to June’s brisk report to Aidan about Emily’s day—what she ate for lunch and how much TV she’d watched after school. Aidan replied in curt phrases interspersed with instructions to Emily to get her snowsuit and boots. Clearly he was as impatient to be gone as June was to have him leave.

Nicola stayed where she was. She was disappointed at not getting a chance to talk to Emily but she didn’t particularly care if she met Aidan. She’d gotten over her crush a long time ago. At Charmaine’s wedding he’d looked right through her; chances were he’d do the same now. Attractive men like Aidan tended to treat her as if she were invisible.

“Wait, Daddy! I’ve got to get the tea set Grandma gave me.” Emily raced around the corner into the living room. Throwing Nicola a swift glance she knelt on the carpet to gather up the child-size china cups and saucers.

“Another present?” Aidan, sounding exasperated, said to June. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“I saw it in the store and knew Emily would love it,” June replied. “Don’t spoil my fun.”

Nicola had to strain to hear Aidan’s next words. “I wish you wouldn’t spoil her.”

Then unexpectedly, Aidan stood in the open double doorway, his athletic frame topped by windblown chestnut hair and searching green eyes. Despite her claim to indifference Nicola found her attention caught.

Aidan’s gaze skimmed over the sofa where she sat and came to rest on his daughter. “Hurry, Em. Let’s get going.”

Generally Nicola ignored such minor snubs but something made her stand and force him to notice her. “Hi, I’m Nicola.”

“Nic is Emily’s second cousin,” June explained coming into the room. “My brother Stan’s daughter from Australia. She’s in town to take pictures of the ski resort.”

Aidan’s face changed, registering recognition if not interest. “You were in the wedding party.”

So he had noticed her. Amazing. “I was maid of honor.”

Emily tugged on his pant leg. “Can we go now, Daddy?”

“I’ll get her backpack,” June said and left.

“Did you say hello to Nicola?” Aidan asked Emily.

Emily glanced shyly up at Nicola and whispered, “Hi.”

Nicola dropped to a crouch. The little girl looked astonishingly like Charmaine, with glowing pink skin and huge blue eyes. “Hi, Emily. Your mommy wasn’t just my cousin, she was my best friend. She was a year older than me and we shared everything, just as if we were sisters. She wrote me lots of letters and I brought them with me because I thought you might like to hear what she had to say.”