The Santa Accident Read online

  “Wait, you’re thinking about moving in here?” She tipped her head to the side.

  “It makes sense. I’ve been renting space, and now my business has grown enough to buy a building. Makes sense from a tax point of view.”

  “But the neighborhood isn’t the greatest.”

  “Actually, this area is prime for resurgence. There’s more activity here now than in the past ten years. More young people want to live in urban settings like this area. Right now, I can buy the building for a song. If I wait, I’m sure the price will go up.” He wrapped an arm around Ivy’s shoulders and let his gaze roam her face. “Plus, it’s big enough I can sublet space for other, complementary businesses. Like a design business. What would you say to a partnership? I’ll do the building, you do the decorating.”

  He held his breath while she turned a slow circle to look at the place. He saw the moment the idea took shape in her head.

  “I have a job.” She crossed her arms over her belly, pushing up her breasts.

  His mouth watered with the urge to bury his face in her cleavage, but he kept his focus on their conversation. “Just think, no more holiday season craziness. No more crowds. You could offer holiday decorating services. You know Sylvie would send you a ton of business.”

  “I don’t know, Cole. I’d never thought about opening my own business.” But he could see the idea percolating in her eyes. A half-smile formed on her lips.

  “I don’t need an answer today. But something like this is on my long-range business plan. I like your work, and I like you. I’m going to branch out this way with someone, I’d just as soon it be you.”

  She moved away from him, trailing her fingers over the concrete wall on her right. She glanced over her shoulder, one brow arched. “You like me?”

  He snorted. “I’d have thought it was obvious from that kiss.” He pulled the mistletoe from his back pocket. “Do you need another demonstration?”

  She moved into his embrace, weaving her arms around his neck. “I like you, too.”

  He sealed his lips over hers and gave in to the chemistry building between them.

  Ten

  Ivy met Cole back at her apartment a short time later. He’d stopped at the Mom and Pop pizza place just down the street from her house to pick up a large pie. The restaurant had provided dinner almost nightly in her run up to the holidays at the mall. Working eighty hours a week didn’t leave much time to grocery shop, so the kitchen was bare except for a large canister of oatmeal, a bag of frozen blueberries, several cans of soup, and a block of cheese.

  Pathetic. Between the mall and the Alpine Club, she’d worked so much in the past two months she’d neglected nutrition and exercise. The idea of opening her own company popped into her mind and she mulled it over while she scurried around picking up dirty clothes, and stacking unopened mail. She’d neglected housecleaning as well.

  Imagine having extra time to pay attention to life in addition to business. Her house would be clean. She could get back to baking and cooking, activities she loved, but couldn’t fit into her schedule from July through January. Plus, no crowds, no Santa’s arrival madness, and no Friday after Thanksgiving terror. This would be her first Christmas in a mall this large, having just started after New Year’s. She had no idea what to expect for a crowd, but if Santa’s arrival were any indication, it would be mammoth. Her breath shortened and she braced a hand on the clothes hamper.

  Cole’s idea was growing on her. She had a fine arts and design degree. With Cole’s help, and Sylvie’s, she could do it.

  Her doorbell rang and the nerves that had underlain her growing excitement about her future rang like sleigh bells under her skin. Cole.

  The apartment looked better, thanks to the hurried tossing of clothes and books and mail into whatever closet was closest. She smoothed her sweater over her torso and then pulled the door open.

  “Hi!”

  Cole leaned in and touched his lips to hers in greeting. Good heavens, the man seemed to love to kiss, and was truly an expert at it.

  The aroma of authentic pizza sauce and gooey cheese wafted in the air between her and Cole. Her stomach rumbled and his lips curved in a smile against her. “Someone is hungry.”

  “Famished,” she said and pressed her hand to her belly. “Come in.”

  Cole set the box on the hastily cleared table. Ivy hunted up plates and napkins and then set a box of red wine on the counter.

  “Sorry, it’s not fancy,” she apologized. There had been even less time to go wine shopping. This time of year, a box always made the most sense. More wine, fewer trips to the store.

  “It’s fine. Some of this stuff is good.” Cole helped himself to a slice of veggie-loaded pizza.

  Ivy slipped a piece onto her plate, and picked off the green peppers. “I don’t know why they have to ruin a perfectly good pizza with something green.”

  “You have something against that color?”

  She gave him a sheepish smile. “Normally, no. But this time of year, I just don’t like the way green looks on the red sauce.”

  “Wow! You really do hate the holidays. Never let Chris in on that secret.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. She couldn’t help her feelings. “I would just prefer the season to be easier going, calmer, you know.” She chewed a bite then swallowed. “It’s good, though.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  They ate in silence a moment, until she broke it with a question that had been bothering her a while. “Does Chris really believe he’s Santa?”

  Cole set his slice aside and studiously wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “For as long as I can remember, he’s been this larger than life character. I don’t know if he adopted the persona to help keep me in line after my mom went away, or if he already owned it before he and Lavinia took me in.”

  “Is he…” She wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence without offending him.

  “Crazy? Uh-uh. Chris is the sanest person I know. Solid, steady, a master at business. But above all, he’s a great friend. As you might imagine, our home was filled with lots of love and laughter and good clean fun. I think parents of the other kids in my grade pushed their children to play with me, despite my mom’s notorious reputation, because they figured we’d all be on our best behavior.” He chuckled and bit off a huge chunk of his slice.

  “Your mom wasn’t in the picture.”

  A frown pinched his brow. “Hard to be in the picture when she was two hundred miles away in prison for armed robbery.”

  “I’m sorry.” God, that must have been hard on a young kid. Not much different than what some of the kids at the Alpine Club faced. No wonder Cole and Chris had submitted the lowest bid on the project. They had to be losing money on it, but it filled a spot in their souls to give back this way. Her heart expanded, filling her chest with warmth and affection and a much stronger emotion she declined to put a name to.

  He shrugged. “I haven’t seen her for years. Chris always talked about the girl she’d been when she’d been growing up. He never really knew where she took a wrong turn, but he blamed himself. So he made sure I had what I needed to keep me on the straight and narrow. He and Lavinia saved my life.”

  Ivy pushed her plate away and then sipped her wine, letting the silence stretch between them.

  Cole leaned forward. “Want to tell me why you don’t like Christmas?”

  A shiver coursed down Ivy’s spine. Could she adequately explain the terror she’d felt all those years ago? “It isn’t Christmas as much as the hub-bub that goes with it. It seems silly now. I told you when I was six, my aunt took me shopping on Black Friday.” She gulped her wine, trying to control the shudders determined to rack her frame. “Long story short, my aunt let go of my hand for a second. In front of the toy store right as it opened. I don’t remember which toy was all the rage that year, but the crowd in front of the store surged forward, dragging me away from my aunt. People trampled other people to get to this toy.”

  The me
mory of the jostling, aggressive crowd rose in her brain. Her heart kicked up a notch and sweat broke out on her forehead. She wiped it with a napkin.

  Cole leaned forward and laid a hand over hers. “That must have been terrifying.”

  The compassionate touch of his fingers calmed her. “You know it. Anyway, I ended up with a box in my hands, and some woman yanked it away from me. I stumbled and fell down. Somebody stepped on my leg, but I crawled away. I crawled clean out of the store, then stood up and screamed for my aunt. I couldn’t see her, didn’t hear her calling for me. So I ran down the concourse hollering for her.” She took a deep breath and shoved residual terror away. “A couple people reached out to grab me, I guess to help me. I was screaming and crying. One person caught my coat, but I slipped out of it and kept going. Finally, I ran into a store and found an employee to help me. The staff there called mall security. I haven’t liked being in crowds since then.”

  “And yet, you chose to work in a mall.” He squeezed her fingers.

  When put that way, it was a head-scratcher decision. “Stupid, right? Typically, the job is fun, and meets my need to be creative. It’s just these three or four months of the holidays that make me anxious.”

  Suddenly, the idea of quitting her job to open her own business was quite appealing.

  She helped herself to another slice. “Tell me more about this new office concept of yours.”

  Eleven

  When the knock had sounded on Chris and Lavinia’s front door after Thanksgiving dinner, Cole had been taking out the trash. Lavinia had cooked a feast and Cole was doing his bit to help. That included cleaning up while Lavinia put her feet up on a hassock and relaxed.

  His world crashed, burned and was resurrected in nightmarish form when he returned from the trash bins, stamping snow from his tennis shoes.

  Holly, his birth mother, stood in the front room, huddled into a threadbare coat with a hopeful expression on her face. Chris had slung an arm around Lavinia’s shoulders and stood between the living room and the kitchen, as if to provide a barrier between Cole and his mom.

  And that might have been welcomed when Cole was ten, or even eighteen. But Cole was a grown-ass man now, a successful businessman, in the beginning of a relationship filled with promise.

  All those things didn’t matter when hope leaped in his chest, followed quickly by a cold dousing in reality. His mom liked her dangerous friends, drugs and drinks more than she’d loved him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he laid his hands on his aunt and uncle’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Chris.”

  “We didn’t know, Cole,” Lavinia sputtered, wringing her hands. “We had no idea she’d been released.”

  Holly hung her head and jammed trembling fists into the pockets of her coat. “I didn’t know, either. When they came and got me during their version of Thanksgiving dinner, I didn’t expect to be released. Overcrowding, they said. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  Her shoulders were shaking, and Cole could see that she was little more than a skeleton covered with prison-grayed skin. Despite the concern rolling through him, he stiffened his spine. This woman hadn’t cared what happened to him while she partied with her drug-addicted friends. She probably hadn’t thought twice about him when her boyfriend at the time put a loaded pistol in her hands and entered the convenience store.

  Lavinia had been a better mom than this caricature of a woman ever even tried to be. Why should he care now?

  “Well, we’re surprised to see you, Holly,” Chris said. He shook off Cole’s protective hand and took a step toward Holly. “Surprised, but pleased. Welcome home, niece.”

  When he wrapped his arms around the woman, she broke into sobs. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” She lifted a gaze awash in tears toward Cole. “I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I hope you can find it in your heart. I’ve missed you.”

  “You don’t know me,” Cole remarked.

  Lavinia took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Cole.”

  He wanted to jerk away from the touch, but found he couldn’t. Lavinia had been a surrogate mother to him, had raised him to respect his elders and all people. To work hard to stay on the side of good, when he could have followed in his mother’s footsteps, could have given in to a lifestyle that would rival Holly’s.

  He stared at the woman who’d given him birth, but little else, in stony silence.

  “Why don’t we all sit down,” Chris invited, steering Holly to the sofa. He helped her settle and she nearly disappeared into the plush leather cushions. “Are you hungry? We have plenty of left-overs.”

  “Maybe just some coffee?” Holly asked, raising her brows. She dragged a colorful leaf patterned afghan from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “I’ll just go make some fresh,” Lavinia said. “Cole, why don’t you come help?”

  Cole followed his aunt, who plucked a cheery Christmas apron from the back of the swinging kitchen door.

  The wooden panel swung closed and Cole huffed out a tremulous breath. “Why now?”

  Water splashed into the coffee maker, delaying Lavinia’s reply. “Maybe because now you need it.”

  He laughed. “I need this like I need a building I’ve built to come tumbling down.” But wasn’t that sort of what was happening? He’d constructed a life without a mother with the help of the woman’s only relatives. And now, the whirlwind that was his mom had just blasted back into his life like a wrecking ball.

  “Can you give her a chance? Chris and I failed her all those years ago. We should have tried harder to help when she needed it the most.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  Lavinia cringed at his profanity.

  He wrapped a hand around his neck and dug his fingers in to relieve the tension. “Sorry. But you two did everything you could. She didn’t want to help herself. I could see that and I was only seven. Just a kid. And whenever she was close to being eligible for parole, she acted up and bought herself more time in prison. She didn’t want me then. She doesn’t want me now.”

  He stormed into the front room and grabbed his keys and coat, then headed to the door.

  “Cole, baby, where are you going?” Holly’s voice rose sharply behind him, dragging him back to a time when he was the one screaming and begging her not to leave him alone again.

  He squashed the memory of despair and fear. “I’m not your baby.” He slammed the door behind him and stomped through the freshly fallen snow toward his truck.

  Staring out at the white world, looking freshly washed, he wished for a do-over of the last thirty minutes. He’d love a chance to go back to the hopeful, happy man he’d been. Falling in love with a smart, funny, beautiful woman.

  Cole’s breath shortened as he realized where his thoughts had wandered. And then his mom…

  Wasn’t that just a kick in the teeth?

  He’d given himself an hour to calm down when he got back to his home. He’d spent the time in his home gym, lifting an impossible amount of weights and running on a pace of a three-minute mile, trying to shuck the feeling that his life had changed inexorably.

  Drenched in sweat, he’d called Ivy to wish her good luck on Black Friday. Her voice calmed him, like a balm for the scalding burn of old scars that were freshly opened. For the sake of keeping his relationship with Ivy untainted by Holly and her brand of fuck-up, he buried the aggravation gnawing at his soul. He never even mentioned the woman who’d erupted back into his life like an angry volcano.

  He’d barely slept, staring at the ceiling and seeing flickering images of his childhood. The terror of being left home alone. The walls in their cheap apartment had been so thin, the neighbors’ epic fights were audible as if taking place in his front room. He pressed his hand over his ears to deaden the echoes of his mom’s drunken, giddy laughter when she finally came home in the wee hours of the morning, dragging her druggy friends with her. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d fixed his own br
eakfast of Lucky Charms, usually without milk because Holly had been too broke to buy a fresh carton, and plopped down in front of the TV to watch cartoons while her friends slept off the effects of the night sprawled on the threadbare, smelly couch.

  Chris had been his lifeline when his mom was arrested and sent away. Without his great-uncle, Cole would have ended up in foster care, or worse, on the road to prison himself.

  Cole flipped angrily to his side and punched his pillow. Chris had taken him in, been a parent when his own fell down on the job. And even though Cole resisted Chris and Lavinia’s delusions about being Father Christmas and Mrs. Claus, Cole grudgingly accepted that Chris was truly the best gift he’d ever been given. Later in life, when business seemed to come magically his way, Cole had even begun to buy into the idea of Chris being Santa. He’d stood by their sides and welcomed the holidays, filling in whenever they were down an elf. Cole had learned about construction by helping Chris in his workshop, fashioning small wooden toys for his friends as gifts. Chris’s mantra, gifts from the hands are gifts from the heart reverberated through Cole’s mind.

  He flopped onto his back and released a huge sigh. Chris seemed to believe that his mom landing back in his life could be a gift.

  Could it?

  Did she deserve a second chance? Deep in his heart, he saw her like the kids at the Alpine Club: Good souls who just needed love and guidance. He took a deep breath to settle the anxiety in his gut. If he was helping those kids because they were like him, giving them an opportunity to turn their lives around, the way Chris had done for him, didn’t that mean his mom deserved no less?

  His alarm blared early, interrupting his uneasy doze. It was followed by an alert pinging on his phone. He sluggishly slapped the snooze button on the clock, and picked up his phone to read Chris’s text.

  “Join us for breakfast.”

  Cole groaned. The text wasn’t phrased as a request. This was a command performance.