Jill Kemerer - Yuletide Redemption

He waved to Parker. “I think he’ll start walking on his own this week.”

“I hope so. Everything I’ve read said babies usually walk unassisted by twelve months. His pediatrician told me not to worry, but I can’t help it.”

Parker made a goo-goo noise and zoomed around the table, not taking his hands off it. He tripped, toppling over on his side.

“Oh!” She lurched forward, but Sam held his hand out.

“Let him be. He’ll figure it out.”

She paused, waiting for a cry, but Parker pushed himself back up and held on to the table once more. He stared at Sam with a big grin, then took a wobbly step toward him.

“Look at that! He’s doing it!” Sam held his arms open wide, reaching as far as his extended leg would allow him. “Come on over, buddy.”

Celeste whipped her phone out of her back pocket, fumbling to enter the passcode. She pressed Video and directed it Parker’s way. He stood immobile with his hands in the air, but he hadn’t taken a step yet. Come on, come on, you can do it, little man!

Parker lifted his chunky leg and promptly fell on his bottom. She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, well. He’ll do it one of these days.”

“Maybe today. You never know.” Sam made funny faces at Parker, who laughed and crawled to him, pulling himself to the edge of Sam’s chair. Sam picked him up.

At the sight of Parker on Sam’s lap, Celeste’s heart swelled. He always had a smile for her nephew, often shaking his tiny hand or ruffling the hair on his head, but this was the first time he’d held the boy. The picture they presented? Priceless. But unwanted thoughts surged through her mind. Josh should be here cradling his son. What if Parker never has a daddy?

What if she ended up raising Parker alone forever? It was a scenario she knew could come true. What guy would want to raise her nephew and wake up to her scars every morning?

Celeste was it for Parker. Part of her loved being his mom, but the other part worried she’d never be enough. The baby had lost his mom and dad, and he was stuck with his aunt who’d basically become a recluse.

She grabbed the dust mop with more force than necessary and swept the rest of the floor while Sam made funny explosion noises and tickled Parker, who giggled loudly. Outside, the wind blew a few straggling brown leaves across the deck. Winter had arrived. Snow would be coming soon.

“Why don’t you take a break, Celeste?”

With a few taps she emptied the dishpan in the trash. She never lingered after cleaning, but then, Sam never asked her to stay, either. What would it hurt? Parker looked so content on his lap she didn’t have the heart to tear him away. “Okay.”

She took a seat on the leather couch. Crossed one leg over the other. Had no clue what to do next. Parker yawned.

“I noticed you running the other day.” Sam tucked him under his arm. Be still her heart. There was something very appealing about Sam holding a child. “Your parents still helping out?”

“Yes. They miss him. They swing by after work a few days a week. They’ll be here Sunday, too.”

“Good.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, either. His eyes darted around the room. “I didn’t know you ran.”

“I haven’t as much lately. The days are getting shorter, so my long runs are numbered.”

“Oh?” He adjusted his leg, holding Parker firmly. Parker’s eyes had grown heavy, and he let out another big yawn.

“It’s kind of hard with Parker. I have a jogging stroller, but for me, running is a solitary sport. It’s not the same pushing a stroller. I’d rather have my arms moving.”

“What about a treadmill?”

She twisted her face, sticking her tongue out. “Yuck. Boring. I’m best outside.”

“I take it you’ve been doing it a long time?”

“Running used to be a big part of my life.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, let’s see.” She tapped her finger against her chin and flinched, suddenly remembering the tender spot. “I started running cross-country in seventh grade. I ran varsity all four years of high school. Got a partial college scholarship out of it, too.”

“Impressive.”

She diverted her attention to her lap. “Running kept me focused, but I didn’t give enough thought to life after college. It’s probably why I have a degree I’m not using.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Well, that makes two of us. I’m not using mine, either.” He frowned. “I think I need to change that.” She waited for him to say more on the subject, but he shook his head. “I take it you didn’t have dreams of marathons?”

“Oh, I had those, all right. I saw myself as the next Joan Benoit.”

“Who is she?” He gave her a pointed stare, his eyes playful.

“An amazing American runner.”

He looked suitably impressed. “So what happened?”

She shrugged, brushing a piece of lint from her jeans. “No matter how hard I trained, I wasn’t as fast as the top runners. I got injured my junior year of college. I’d had tendinitis and other problems off and on, but the stress fracture took a long time to heal. My college career was a disappointment. I did end up running in a few marathons after college.”

“Not anymore?”

“No.” Memories flitted to her. The feel of packed earth beneath her feet at all those high school races. Sweat dripping down her back as she pushed herself to stay conditioned on lonely roads during the summer. Lifting weights to get an edge. Being top ten in her district, but not good enough to take the state title. She missed those days.

“You don’t mind holding him?” She nodded at Parker, who had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms. What would it be like to have a man in her life, a husband to help raise Parker?

“Not at all. My niece Emily used to sleep on my lap, before...well, before I had the second surgery. The family doesn’t meet here for Tuesday dinners anymore. In fact, no one comes around as much. I didn’t want them to.”

“I get it. I pushed people away, too.” And some of them pushed me away.

The clock on the wall ticked as silence stretched.

“You never told me if your parents are taking Parker to the Christmas program practices.”

Celeste wrapped her arms around her waist. “I haven’t asked them.”

“Why not?” He sounded skeptical.

“It slipped my mind.” It hadn’t slipped her mind, but every time she considered calling Mom to ask, she balked. Something about the request reeked of desperation.

“Well, I should probably go back.” She rose. “Is there anything else you need before I leave?”

“Yes, actually.” Sam shifted in his seat, his face distorting as he did. “There is something you can do for me. I want to get out of here.”

* * *

“Oh, okay.” Celeste blinked. “Right now? It’s kind of cold out.”

Sam groaned. That wasn’t what he meant. He didn’t exactly know what he was asking.

“No.” He inhaled Parker’s baby shampoo, fighting the frustration bulging inside him. The accident had taken the use of his leg, but sometimes he thought it had taken his speech, too. Conversation had been easy—his strong suit—before the accident. And now? He might as well be a caveman, grunting and gesturing. “I mean in general. I was wondering if I could go grocery shopping with you.”

“Oh.” Her face fell as she sat back down. “Sure. No problem.”

But the way she slumped said it was a problem. “I don’t want to go out in the wheelchair. I don’t like being stared at, and I need to build strength in my legs. I’m just... Forget it.” He jerked his head to the side. Why did he have to be so dependent?

“Well, if you’re trying to avoid stares, I’m probably not the best person to be out with.” Her hair had fallen in front of her face, the way it had the first few times he saw her.