- Home
- Jill Kemerer
Yuletide Redemption Page 8
Yuletide Redemption Read online
Page 8
“Do you think it’s cold?” Celeste asked.
“Doubt it. Looks pretty happy to me. It’s definitely being fed.”
“You can say that again.” She chuckled. “It’s got to be twenty pounds. Someone may be feeding it too much.”
“Like my aunt Sally. She had enough food at Thanksgiving to feed a small country. Not that I’m complaining. She’s a fantastic cook.”
“Well, congratulations about Claire having a baby. They must be excited.”
“Yeah, it’s taken them a while to get pregnant, so they’re happy.”
They passed the cat, and Parker twisted to try to see it before giving up and settling back in the stroller.
“I remember when Brandy found out she was having Parker.” Celeste smiled, a faraway look in her brown eyes. Sam forced his gaze back on the path. He’d never felt this comfortable around a woman he was attracted to, but Celeste was easy to be with. She shook her head. “She flipped out. Took four tests. We jumped up and down in her tiny living room, laughing and screaming. Then we got ice cream.”
“You must miss her.”
Celeste nodded, the light in her eyes dimming. “I’ve been struggling with it more lately. I’d begun to make peace with losing Josh and then...”
“You lost her.”
“Yeah.” She slowed the stroller and turned to him. “It’s not just missing her. This is probably going to sound stupid, but sometimes I feel like an impostor, like I shouldn’t be raising Parker. She should be here raising him.”
Sam frowned, trying to take in what she was saying. “But she’s not here. Who else would love him the way you do?”
“True. Is it wrong to love him so much, though? I’m fighting these weird feelings. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He paused, resting on the crutches. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’re raising a kid, and it’s not as if you have any experience. Plus, you miss your friend, and you don’t have a husband to help you. I’d be wrestling with a lot of thoughts, too.”
She blinked, her lips twisting. “So you don’t think I’m betraying her memory or anything?”
“You’d be betraying her memory if you didn’t love Parker as your own son. Isn’t that what she would want? For him to be raised in a home full of love?”
She nodded.
“I never knew my mom. I was two when she died giving birth to Libby.” He gestured for them to continue forward. “My dad raised me.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry.” They reached a section canopied by trees.
“Don’t be. My aunt Sally and my sister Claire were all the motherly figures I needed in my life. Do I wish I’d had my mom? Of course. But I turned out fine, and I’m grateful for the family I have. They annoy me at times, but I still love ’em.”
“I understand.” She grew serious. “I’ve never seen you out here. Why did you decide to come out today?”
It was his turn to grow serious. “I told Bryan I’m returning to work in January.”
“That’s wonderful, Sam. When did you decide this?”
“Thanksgiving. I guess I’m reclaiming my life little by little.”
“Are you nervous about the pain? I know you didn’t want to use your wheelchair at work, but if you’re going back so soon, I guess you’ll have to, huh?”
No way was he working in the wheelchair. “My physical therapist wants me on crutches.”
“Oh.” The wind blew her hair across the front of her face and neck. “I hope you’ll take it slow. Don’t want you aching and miserable.”
She didn’t think he could handle it. Would she always see him as the patient next door?
The temptation to pray—to ask God for help—hit him.
Like God would waste time helping him now, when He’d ignored Sam’s pleas all last year.
Sam would do this on his own.
So far, the longest he’d been on his feet with the crutches was two hours, and his knee had felt as if a fireworks display was exploding inside it afterward. Eight to ten hours on crutches were sure to be grueling. Or impossible.
He increased his pace, flinching when his crutch hit a stone. Slow down. Do you want your knee to blow out again?
“Well, I’ll be happy to drive you Friday,” Celeste said.
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not.” She frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered Thursday night is the Christmas Eve program practice.”
“That’s right.” From the look on her face, he’d say she dreaded it. “I’m going with you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m going. I know you’re worried about it. You’ve done a lot for me. Let me do this for you.”
Her shy smile sent a zip of pride down to his toes. Maybe she was starting to see him as more than a patient. He wanted to be there for her, to be the friend she needed. Most of all, he didn’t want to let her down.
Chapter Six
“I can’t go back to the cottage. Not yet,” Sam said, eyeing Celeste’s parked van as they came out of the diner on Main Street Monday afternoon. His physical therapy session that morning had gone so well he’d asked Celeste and Parker to join him for lunch—his treat. Although the place had been packed with customers, only a handful of people had stopped by their table asking him how he was. The waitress stared overly long at Celeste, but mostly, they’d eaten in peace. He didn’t want the peace to end. Not yet. “What a perfect winter day.”
“Where do you want to go?” Celeste carried Parker, who clapped his mittened hands, his face full of joy at being outside.
Snow had fallen the night before, giving the lampposts and trees a frosted look. The sun made everything sparkle, and the Christmas decorations throughout town added to the season’s cheer.
“How about a little window-shopping?” He spied the town Christmas tree a few blocks down. He’d skipped Christmas last year. And before that? He’d taken it for granted. “I know you have to get back to work, but it’s been a long time since I’ve hung out down here.”
“I don’t mind. Should I get the stroller?”
“How wiggly is he?”
Parker bounced in her arms. She chuckled. “I’ll get the stroller.”
A few minutes later, Sam led the way down the sidewalk, pointing out stores as they passed. “My best friend, Jeremy, and I used to spend all our allowances in there.” He stopped before a drugstore/gift shop. “They had a huge selection of candy. You could buy caramels, chocolates, taffy and hard candies in bulk.”
“Do they still sell bulk candy?” Celeste stretched her neck to see inside the window.
“I don’t think so.”
“Want to find out?”
He was taken aback, surprised she suggested it. But she hadn’t flinched at eating lunch with him earlier, so maybe she was getting used to being out in public the same way he was.
“Yeah. Let’s go in. If they still have the candy, I’m buying a bag.”
“Fair enough.” She bent to lift Parker from the stroller. He babbled all the way inside. An employee barely glanced up from behind the checkout counter, and a pair of women perused the greeting cards.
“The candy bins used to be here.” He went to the back wall where shelves of cough syrups and allergy medicines were placed. “There was a hanging scale, too, so you could weigh your candy before buying it.”
“You bought a lot of sweets, didn’t you?” She set Parker on the floor, keeping a tight hold on his little hand.
“You have no idea.” He leaned against his crutches and smiled at the memories of running in here as a kid to blow his allowance. “I’m pretty sure I single-handedly kept our dentist in business.”
She chuckled. “Bra
ndy and I rode bikes all summer from the time we were twelve until we could drive. We ate our fair share of candy, too. And ice cream.” Parker reached for a small stuffed bunny. “No, sweetie, that’s not for you to touch.” She steered him away from the display, and his light brown eyes filled with tears.
“I’ll buy it for him.” Sam smiled at Parker.
Celeste’s eyes shone but she shook her head. “I appreciate it, Sam, but I don’t want him expecting a toy every time we go to a store.”
He almost argued, but Parker had already forgotten about the stuffed animal and was pulling Celeste to the colorful candy bars in his sight. “So you have a sweet tooth, too, huh?”
“Mine is more of a salty tooth. I can pack away a bag of chips. But I won’t turn down a candy bar, either.”
“Chips should be their own food group.” After Sam purchased three candy bars and a pack of gum, they exited the store, and once Celeste strapped Parker back into the stroller, they continued down the sidewalk. They stopped in a few more stores before strolling to the town Christmas tree. It stood at the entrance to City Park with the white pillars of the gazebo visible behind it. Snow dripped from the branches, which were covered in lights.
“It’s so pretty.” Celeste stretched her neck back to see the star on top. “Look, Parker, isn’t it the biggest Christmas tree you’ve ever seen?” He held his arms up for her to unstrap him. She glanced at Sam. “Do you want to stay a minute or head back?”
“Stay.” He lowered himself onto one of the benches facing the tree as she set Parker on his feet, adjusting his hat and mittens. Parker giggled, slapping the bench seat over and over with both hands. “Doesn’t take much for you to have fun, does it, buddy?”
“Mind if I take a picture?” Celeste’s brown eyes waited for an answer, but she was so pretty he forgot the question. She cocked her head to the side. “Sam?”
“What?” He tore his gaze away and held out his hand for Parker to take. Parker patted it.
“I want to take a picture. He looks so cute in his snow boots.”
“Sure.” Sam got Parker’s attention, pointing for him to smile at Celeste. “Hey, there, look that way.”
The boy laughed, his eyes glued to Sam, and placed both hands on Sam’s thigh.
“Guess I’ll have to be in it, too.” Sam turned Parker to face Celeste. “Say ‘cheese.’”
Parker squealed in delight as Celeste snapped the photo.
“Why don’t you let me take a picture of you with him?”
“That’s okay.” She ducked her chin. “I should probably get back. I have a long list of work to do.”
“Come on, let’s get a photo of you two.” He wanted to hold on to today. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed being out. He’d like to look back at this moment and remember Celeste’s smile and Parker’s happiness. Capture the joy of the moment. Didn’t Celeste feel it, too?
“No.” Her clipped voice set him back.
“Okay.” He got to his feet as she took care of Parker. Why did he keep forgetting about her scars? “Do you ever take pictures of you two together?”
She didn’t answer, but her nose twitched.
“Celeste, don’t you think he’ll want to look back at you and him?”
“Not like this.”
They headed back to her van in silence, and he couldn’t help feeling he’d messed up their friendship. If she could see herself the way he did—glowing, smiling—a person he wanted to spend time with. But she clearly didn’t see herself that way.
He didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t even know how to try.
* * *
Celeste’s fingertips tapped against the keyboard as she finished typing an ad for a new client. She needed to cram three hours of work into the twenty minutes she had left before driving Parker to the Christmas program practice. What she wouldn’t do to call Sue Roper and cancel tonight. The sour taste on her tongue grew positively pungent. She popped a peppermint candy in her mouth.
They were counting on her. A Christmas surprise for Grandma Pearl.
She’d floor it past the accident site if she had to, but she would get Parker to the rehearsal.
The calendar hanging on the bulletin board above her desk caught her eye. Bright green X’s showed the countdown. Today was December 2, just two weeks—a mere fourteen days—until her follow-up appointment. An appointment that could free her of these chains. Too ashamed to have her picture taken, even with sweet Parker. How sad was that? And what did Sam think about it? His comment Monday about Parker wanting to look back at pictures of them had dented her ironclad stance about not drawing attention to her face.
Earlier, she’d forced herself to do a little research about becoming a teacher. She glanced at the blue folder with the information she’d gathered. All the steps she needed to pursue a career teaching history. Right in there. She’d have to take almost a dozen college courses, which she could do online, and once done, she could sign up for student teaching and begin the process of getting state-certified. It would take at least two years, maybe more, before she could even think about teaching.
But could she really consider it?
It depended on her plastic surgeon.
Was she wrong to pause her life until she got the outcome she longed for?
Focus. She didn’t have time for dreaming.
After a quick scan of the ad, she printed a copy to proofread later. Then she marked the item off her checklist and went to the next one.
Six in the evening and already pitch-black out. Maybe the darkness would make it easier... She wouldn’t have to see the crash site when she drove past. But she’d still have to interact with the people from Brandy’s church, many of whom had known Brandy and also had small children.
Celeste had no idea how she’d be received by them.
At least Sam was driving with her tonight. They’d survived another round of grocery shopping Tuesday, this time with only two locals stopping Sam about his leg, and, thankfully, nobody said a word about her scars. She’d actually enjoyed the trip. It helped that since Monday, Sam had gone out of his way to keep things light. She was learning more about him.
He ate mostly healthy foods, and he knew all kinds of fun facts. He’d explained how to figure out if a pineapple was ripe by plucking an inner leaf out of the top. If it came out easily, the pineapple was ready. Who would have known? Most of the food he bought was portable and easy to grab. Single-sized yogurts, sliced cheese, lunch meat, crackers, granola bars. He explained that with both hands on the crutches, it was difficult to carry anything. That was why he kept a bag he could sling over his shoulder at all times to carry things between rooms.
She learned more than his food preferences, though. He was funny, kind. He treated her like a trusted friend. What a gift to have his friendship.
A text came through from Sam. We’d better leave early. It’s starting to snow.
Tiny white pellets blew past the window. With a frustrated exhalation, she saved her work, got up from the desk and stretched both arms over her head.
Lord, You’ve gotten me through some big changes lately. I need Your help tonight. Give me the strength to drive to church and the words to say when we arrive.
She’d put more thought into her mom’s suggestion. She’d keep any replies to questions about her face simple and direct. No lengthy explanations—assuming she could will her mouth to open and speak at all.
Ten minutes later Parker was babbling quietly in his car seat while Celeste helped Sam into the passenger side of her van.
“You ready for this?” Sam asked as she pulled away.
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.” She licked her chapped lips and headed north. The church was twenty-five minutes away. That left about twenty-four minutes before they passed the dreaded spot. In the meantime, she ne
eded a distraction. Sam. “What about you? Ready for the big meeting tomorrow?”
She peeked over to catch his reaction. His hair was expertly gelled on top, and although it was dark, she could make out the twinkle in his eyes as he nodded.
Yep, he was a good distraction. A good, gorgeous distraction.
“I’m ready, thanks to you. I’m not as worried about slipping and falling with the crutches, and I forced myself to walk around the house with them for three hours.”
“You won’t be marching around on those through the dealership tomorrow, will you?”
“No. But come January, I will be. I’ve got to be prepared. My job has never really been a desk job. I spend a lot of time checking the different departments, talking to customers and inspecting the lot.”
“It’s great to hear you excited.” Celeste flipped on the wipers as the snowfall increased.
“Do I sound excited?” he joked. “I’m nervous.”
“Why?” She glanced at him. “You’ll be fine.”
He rubbed his chin and shrugged. “Been a long time.”
“It’ll all come back to you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She chewed on the comment a minute. She understood. She was afraid of it all coming back, too, and it would be shortly. “I know, Sam. I’m afraid, too.”
“What are you afraid of, Celeste?” The words were a caress, low and soothing.
Could she tell him everything on her mind? She worried about remembering the crash. Had her memory left out a detail that would prove her negligent? “I just want to get there and not think.”
“I want to go back to work and not be bombarded with the former me.”
The former him? She frowned, keeping her eyes on the road. “You lost me.”
“I’m starting to get used to this being my life. The last time I was in my office, I had no clue I would come close to dying. The memories of who I was, what I could do—those are what worry me. I’m not sure about the mental side of going back to work.”
That, she got. “It’s the same reason why I’m a jittery mess right now. The mental aspect. Seeing Brandy’s church friends, driving past the site. It’s scary. I don’t blame you for having doubts.”