A Family for Christmas (2 page)

She walked back to the waiting room, still trying to make sense of Trent's anger. The real reason for his anger was usually something other than whatever appeared to be the cause. She tried to step back from the situation and consider what might be going on in his head, but found she was too close to it.

Trent was an adult, though, and would have to deal with his own problems on his own. He'd said often enough in the past three months that he didn't want her in his life. She'd have to take him at his word. The children were all that mattered now. She had just been handed the job of single-handedly supplying security for four helpless lives. And Trent had certainly made it clear that he had no intention of sharing that burden.

Deep in thought, she wove her way through the solarium and stood before the glass wall of windows at the far side. She looked unseeingly up at the heavens, trying to come to terms with all that had happened. Trent's brother was dead. Her best friend Sarah was gone, as well. And their beloved children—their gifts from God, as Sarah and Michael had always called them—were now Maggie's responsibility. Alone.

“Aunt Maggie?”

Maggie turned from the windows and met Rachel's troubled gaze. “Yes, pumpkin?”

“I feel sad. I keep thinking Mommy and Daddy are still here. Then I remember the accident.”

“It'll be that way for all of us, for a while but it will get better and those bad memories will fade.”

“Mommy looked different after the accident happened. Really different. I think the policeman told me a lie. She didn't look like she was asleep the way he said. Mommy and Daddy aren't asleep, are they? Being in heaven's not like asleep, is it?”

Maggie struggled for the right words, then remembered the service when her father had died and Jim Dillon's explanation of death to the children. Rachel had been a toddler then, so she wouldn't remember. Digging in her purse, Maggie found the peanuts she'd been given on the plane. “See this?” Rachel nodded. “Can you open it?” Rachel took a peanut and studiously opened it. “Now eat it. Chew it all up and swallow it,” Maggie instructed, then took the empty peanut shell and fit it back together. “It looks the same but something's different, isn't it? What's different?” she asked.

“It's empty now.” Her golden brown eyes were serious.

“That's why Mommy looked so different. Because what you saw was like her shell. What Mommy really was—the really important part of her—was on the inside. Just like the peanut. Where's the peanut now?”

“In my tummy.”

“That's right. The peanut is inside you. And so are Mommy and Daddy. All the things they were, and did with you, and all that happiness and love, are
tucked right inside of you. And that can make you stronger. Just like the peanut nourishes your body, Mommy and Daddy's memory can nourish your soul All you have to do is close your eyes and remember a happy time. Let's try it right now. Close your eyes and tell me what you see.”

“We had a picnic yesterday with our ice-cream cones. Daddy was sitting down, and Daniel was running around. He tripped and the ice cream came off the cone and fell right on Daddy's head. Daddy looked so surprised and so did Daniel. Then Daddy growled and tackled Daniel and rubbed his gooey hair all over Daniel's shirt, and the cold ice cream got on his tummy. We all just laughed and laughed. Then Mommy acted like they were bad and sent them to the washroom to get clean. It was really funny. Daddy pouted just like Daniel about having to get clean.” In a deep voice Rachel said, “‘Do I gotta? Do I gotta?'” Then she giggled. “He was so funny.” Her dark eyes flew open, and she hugged Maggie about the hips. “Oh, thank you, Aunt Maggie. I really do feel better.”

“I'm glad,” Maggie said and hugged Rachel against her. She smoothed a hand over her long strawberry-blond hair, and fought tears.

“Kids are so resilient,” Ed said as Rachel skipped off to the play area reserved for children in the corner of the large waiting room.

Maggie narrowed her teary eyes and considered Ed. “Why are you here?” she asked, then added, “Really. No more excuses.”

Ed's dry chuckle vibrated in the room. “Always
right to the point, aren't you? Okay. I'm along because I want to make sure your guardianship is clearly established in Florida. It didn't sound as if Mickey will be able to be moved to Pennsylvania any time soon.”

“And?” she prodded.

Ed sighed and gestured toward a grouping of sofas and chairs across the room. “Let's sit down. We need to come up with a strategy in case his parents try something. The least I can do is make sure Michael's wishes are carried out. He didn't want those two getting their hands on his kids. He felt so strongly about it that he made me write it in his will.”

“How did his parents take the news of their deaths?” Maggie asked as she settled across from Ed.

“About the way you'd expect. They looked shocked at first, then ‘appropriately' sad for a few seconds each. Next came the legal questions and annoyance that you and Trent were named guardians.”

“Sounds just like my loving parents,” Trent said from behind them. “What else did they say?” he asked as he walked to stand in front of them.

“That, in light of your separation, of course they would be happy to ‘take the kids off your hands,' Trent.”

Anger flared in Maggie's gaze. “Take them off Trent's hands! I guess they knew their oldest son at least. He
doesn't
want them. He just told me. And what did they say about me?”

“As far as they're concerned, you don't enter the equation. The children aren't your blood relatives, so the Osbornes feel you have no rights regardless of
their son's will.” Ed fixed Trent with a steely look. “We're in for trouble if you keep this up, Trent, because your parents will never let Maggie raise those kids alone. Not only should you not continue with the divorce, but I suggest you consider moving into Michael and Sarah's house. Together.”

T
rent's heart thundered, echoing in his head.
None of this is happening,
his mind screamed. But there was no waking from this living nightmare. Maggie stared up at him, pushing her dark chestnut hair behind her ear, her deep brown eyes wide and expectant. It hurt just being in the room with her, knowing he couldn't even reach out and touch her, yet wanting—no, needing to. And to have her look at him with so much hope and anxiety nearly destroyed his control

He turned away.

And his gaze came to rest on little Rachel across the room in a play center, rocking the tattered baby doll that had been her constant companion since her first birthday. There she sat, a sweet child, loving that doll as if it were still clean and pretty, fresh from the box. He blinked away sudden burning in his eyes. His parents would destroy that sweetness and throw that “disgraceful thing” in the trash. He knew because he
remembered his own fury when one day just after he'd started school his own blue bear had disappeared.

And Mickey. If he didn't improve, they'd see him as “damaged.” Trent would never forget overhearing his mother railing at Michael's fourth-grade teacher for suggesting that he was learning disabled. “My son is not damaged! You are just an inferior teacher,” she'd told the woman. And poor Michael had stood there with her, hearing it all and knowing that his teacher was right: he didn't learn the way the others did. And so he began to view himself as damaged. The trouble started just after that fateful day.

No.
His parents wouldn't be good for these kids. They would destroy them one day—one subtle cruelty at a time. Even
he
would be better because he understood the damage idle words could cause. And he'd watch everything he said around the children. He would never let down his guard. He knew he'd never find it in himself to be a real father to them, but he would make sure he was never cruel.

So it's decided, then.
He and Maggie would become their guardians together. He turned back into the room. Doubt assailed him once again. How would he deal with Maggie? He'd loved her so deeply, and yet he'd been unable to give her what she wanted most. Children. And so she'd left him. Telling him without words that a long-dead dream was more important than their love for each other.

But now she'll have both,
a traitorous voice whispered.
And you can have her back.
He suddenly ached to be able to forget his current anguish, in her arms.
But the day she'd left with tears in her eyes, he'd sworn never to let her return. Never again to open his heart to that kind of pain. And never to inflict it on Maggie, either.

Because, as hurt as he had been by her decision, he'd known she suffered as well. He'd lived with that pain for years, knowing all the while that it was his fault, that he was keeping her from fulfilling her dreams of having children.

He'd grown up knowing his parents didn't love him. And it had been fear during those years that had held him back. Fear that, never having received love as a boy, he would not know how to give love to a child. And he'd been right to be afraid, because now he found he had no idea how to be a loving parent.

Trent knew not only how an unloved child felt, but the pain of knowing he'd been adopted and that his real parents hadn't wanted him, either. He'd also been burdened by the knowledge that his parents didn't even see him as a part of their family. It was a shame he'd carried nearly his whole life.

He'd been about to enter junior high when he'd come downstairs late one night to raid the refrigerator. He'd heard his parents discussing sending him away to boarding school…

“I just keep looking at Trenton, wondering what to do with him, Royce.”

“There's only one answer. Ruxley is an excellent school.”

“It seems so unfair, sending him and not Michael.
But I can't let Michael go away. There is simply no way I will.”

“Still, that's no reason to keep Trenton here,” his father said. “The instructors there will know what to do with a boy like him to bring out all his potential.”

“And who knows what his potential is? His mother and father couldn't have been Rhodes scholars considering their poor backgrounds.”

“Albertine, it's too soon to see if heredity or environment will tell with him.”

His mother laughed bitterly. “You don't need to remind me. Michael is our biological child, and he's already nothing like either of us.”

“Have you given any more thought to having another child?”

“I spoke with Mother. She believes that only animals have more than two children. She said that even if we were willing to let people know Trenton is adopted, another child would still be out of the question. She's always thought we were foolish to adopt him, and now she's gloating.” His mother sighed. “So even though medically having another child is now an option, I've decided to just devote my time to Michael.”

“It's your decision, of course,” his father said, but he sounded annoyed.

His mother typically ignored the censure in her husband's tone. “Yes, it is. I'll, of course, leave the decision about Trenton to your discretion. If you want to send him away to Ruxley, then I have no objections, but I won't hear of it for Michael. It may actually
be better for him if we do send Trenton to boarding school.”

“I understand your feelings about Michael. I'll tell Trenton in the morning.”

“Fine. And Royce, try to present this as an exciting opportunity and not punishment and exile.…”

Trent hadn't waited to hear more. When his father called him to his study the next day, Trent hadn't let on that he knew Ruxley was indeed punishment and exile, and not the honor they claimed. And he'd never let them know that he knew about his adoption, fearing that they would then reject him altogether and he would lose Mike from his life as well.

That overheard conversation had been a defining moment in Trent's life. He'd understood at last why they treated him so differently from his brother. Cold as they were to Mike at times, they'd never sent him away. They'd been there to get him out of scrape after scrape. Of course, Michael had characterized their attention as so intense it was smothering. But at least it had been attention.

They certainly hadn't smothered Trent. In fact, they hadn't even bothered to come to his high school, college or graduate school graduations. The day he'd stood addressing his fellow students as Stanford's valedictorian with no family in the audience, he'd silently vowed that he would never have children. He knew that people usually treat their own children the way they've been treated, and he feared he'd do just that.

Then he'd met Maggie. And had fallen head over
heels in love with her. He'd loved her so much that he'd fooled himself into believing he'd be able to love a child of that love as much as he did her. But Maggie had been busy establishing her career, and so they'd decided to wait for their first child. For five years Maggie had looked forward to the day when she'd made enough of a name for herself as an interior designer that she could cut her hours and work from home, caring for their baby. The delay, however, had given Trent's doubts long enough to creep in, and deep inside he'd become afraid again that he wouldn't know how to love a child. To his shame, he'd been relieved when Maggie had been unable to conceive even with the help of fertility experts. Everything had been working out just fine.

Then she'd brought up the idea of adoption, and panic had overwhelmed him. He had known he'd fail an innocent child as his parents had failed him. He'd told her no—he didn't believe in adoption. He would not adopt and raise someone else's child. Though he hadn't failed some unknown child, he
had
ultimately failed Maggie and himself. And all because he hadn't been able to open his heart to her about the real reason for his stand: his shame of being so unlovable to both sets of his parents that no one had loved him as a child. No one had shown him how to love children.

And he'd stood just as firm about reconciliation. Better not to hurt each other again and again over needs and shortcomings neither could change. He'd gone against his every instinct and need by pushing Maggie away when she'd changed her mind about trying again to make their marriage work.

But now there was this—this unbearable tragedy. Mike and Sarah were really gone. He'd just come from viewing their bodies. And now, apparently, his parents wanted the children. Another tragedy in the making.

Trent looked up, his decision suddenly made. He saw Ed looking at him expectantly. “Stop the divorce,” he said. “We'll put it back together. Maggie and the kids can move into that Victorian monstrosity Sarah talked Mike into, if that's what you think would look best. But don't expect me to—”

“Hold it right there, Trent,” Ed interrupted. “I'll get right on halting the divorce action, but I shouldn't hear about anything less than complete reconciliation. I need to have a clear conscience if we have to go head-to-head with your parents in court. And in that case, you'd better have a complete family unit to present to the judge. Your parents aren't so advanced in years that a judge wouldn't hand those kids over to them if he thought you and Maggie were providing an unhealthy home environment. Take my word for it, living in an armed camp would be construed as unhealthy.”

Trent pursed his lips and nodded, knowing Ed walked a fine line being both his counsel and friend. “I was only going to say not to expect me to be home every night. I'll have to keep the apartment in the city. Late-night meetings and long drives home aren't a good combination, especially if you add long workdays and icy streets in the winter.”

“You two can work out the details, but I'd advise you to think about cutting those long hours at least a
little. And Maggie, what do you intend to do about your job? Have you thought about it at all?”

“I enjoy my work and the challenge it presents, but I think four children under the age of nine will be challenge enough for some time to come, don't you?”

Trent couldn't believe his ears. Maggie loved her job. Even when they'd been trying to have a child of their own, she'd never intended to give up her career completely. “But you worked so hard to get where you are,” he said, not understanding how she could have reached her apparent decision so quickly. “I can't let you give all that up. You need to think this through. We'll hire someone to help with the children. Mike and I had a nanny until I went away to school.”

“I'm not averse to hiring someone to help with housework and cooking, but not a nanny. You and your brother hadn't lost your parents, and considering the ones you had, a nanny was probably the best thing to ever happen to you. These children have lost the most important people in their lives, and they're going to need all the love and attention they can get for a good long time. I intend to be there to give it to them. It's a done deal, Trent. I already resigned before I left the office yesterday.”

Trent stiffened. Why didn't she seem upset by the sacrifice of a career that had taken over a decade to build?
Because it isn't a sacrifice! He'd lost his brother, but she had just been handed everything she'd always wanted on a silver platter.
“A house in the country. Children. And me. This is just perfect for
you, isn't it?” he sneered. “A real win-win situation.”

“Trent!” Ed gasped.

Trent lost control of all he'd felt in the past twentyfour hours. Deaf to the outrage in his friend's voice and blind to the horror written on Maggie's lovely features, he let it all boil forth—the pain, the anguish, the confusion. “You were awfully sure of what my decision would be regarding Mike's kids. Suppose I'd decided to take them myself and hire a nanny.”

Pale and shaken, Maggie squared her shoulders. “I wasn't at all sure what you'd decide to do. I was only sure that
I'd
do what Sarah and Michael wanted me to do—which was be a mother to their children. Nothing and no one is going to stop me from fulfilling that promise. Not even you. And for the record, both Sarah and Michael were a very important part of my life. I grew up with Sarah as a sister. They were the only friends who stood by me these last months. I've lost, too, Trent. You aren't the only one grieving.”

Ed stood, his anger obvious. “I think I'll go keep Rachel company. Distract her. Work this out between you. I won't be surprised if Royce and Albertine sail in here any minute now, so you probably don't have a lot of time. Trent, you have to find a way to put the past aside and look toward the future. This kind of atmosphere will destroy those kids. And your parents aren't stupid. They'll spot any lingering animosity from a mile away and then figure out a way to prove it's there to a judge. Talk this out…and fast.”

Trent suddenly felt as if the weight of the world were pressing down on his shoulders. He sank into
the chair Ed had vacated next to Maggie. Elbows on his knees he stared at his hands. He couldn't even believe he'd thought those things of Maggie, let alone said them. Overwhelmed by the magnitude of all that had happened, his eyes filled. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“And I'm sorry for all that's happened,” she whispered. Maggie moved to sit in front of him on a small glass coffee table. She took his hands between hers. He closed his eyes, absorbing the feelings her touch evoked—the comfort, the closeness, the need. He didn't feel so alone now. “I know how much you loved Michael,” she went on. “And Sarah. And I know it's terribly hard to deal with
us
on top of your grief. But we have to. We're the adults in this situation, and those kids are counting on us. Michael and Sarah are, too.”

Trent nodded. “I know. It's just so hard to even think clearly right now. I really didn't mean what I said.”