Home > Be Mine at Christmas(2)

Be Mine at Christmas(2)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Heart-wrenching, isn’t it?” she said softly.

Surprised at the empathy in the teacher’s voice, Angela nodded. Evidently Mrs. Bennett wasn’t quite as stern as she appeared. But Angela wasn’t sure why she’d called her in to read this essay. Angela couldn’t give Kayla what she wanted. Kayla’s father didn’t even know she was alive—and, because of what had happened thirteen years ago, Angela couldn’t tell him. This letter only made her feel worse because now she knew that nothing she could buy Kayla for Christmas would make the girl any happier.

“She’s a…a deep child,” Angela managed to say.

“She understands what really matters.”

Angela sensed that Mrs. Bennett had more to say, but the teacher wasn’t quite as direct as usual. She seemed to choose her next words carefully. “You’ve already shared with me the situation that motivated you to take her in. Have you heard from her mother lately?”

“Not for a few months.” Angela had had little contact with her friend since Stephanie had turned to prostitution in order to support her drug habit. Angela had tracked her down a number of times and tried to get her off the streets. She’d planned to put her in yet another drug rehab center. But during their last encounter, Stephanie had spent one night with them, stolen all the money out of Angela’s purse and disappeared before she and Kayla could get up in the morning. Without so much as a goodbye or an “I love you” for Kayla.

The incident had upset Kayla so much that Angela had decided she didn’t want to see Stephanie again. She had to let go of the mother in order to save the daughter. Which was why she was selling her house. She couldn’t have Stephanie dropping in on them whenever she felt like it, disrupting Kayla’s life. Kayla had refused to come out of her room for nearly three weeks after the last visit.

“You’ve never mentioned her father,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Do you know anything about him?”

“I’m afraid not,” Angela lied.

“Do you think a little research might help? Even if the circumstances surrounding Kayla’s birth weren’t good, the information might assuage the terrible hunger I sense in her through these words—and in some of her other behavior, as well.”

Angela sensed that hunger, too. But telling Kayla about her father would start a chain reaction that could disrupt, possibly ruin, a lot of lives. Besides, Angela had promised Kayla’s late grandmother—the woman who’d provided a foster home for Angela after her parents died—that she would never tell.

“There’s no way to find him,” she said. “I’ve tried.”

“Recently? Because now that we have the Internet—”

“It was a one-night stand. Her mother didn’t even know his name.” Another lie, but Mrs. Bennett seemed to buy it.

“I see.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s unfortunate.” The whole thing was unfortunate—and only one person was to blame.

“Okay, well, we’ll continue to do what we can to make Kayla feel loved, won’t we? Thanks for coming in. I hope you both have a wonderful Christmas.”

“Same to you,” Angela said and stood as if nothing had changed. But a thought she’d had several times in the past was stealing up on her. What if she were to take Kayla back to Virginia City for a visit? It’d been thirteen years. Surely, Matthew Jackson would never guess after so long. It would give Angela a chance to assess the situation, determine where Matt was now, what he was doing—and whether or not there was any chance he might be receptive to such a shocking secret.

“WHEN WILL WE GET THERE?” Kayla asked.

“Sometime tomorrow.” Gripping the wheel with one hand, Angela turned down the Christmas music she’d put on as soon as they’d set off and glanced over at the girl who’d come to live with her fifteen months earlier. With long brown hair, wide brown eyes and a spattering of freckles, Kayla wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world. She had the knobby-kneed clumsiness often seen with lanky children who were poised for more growth—she was going to be tall, like her father—but Angela had no doubt she’d grow into a beautiful woman. Kayla held herself with a certain grace and dignity that Angela found impressive, considering everything she’d been through.

The girl had spirit. Her mother hadn’t broken it. The kids at school hadn’t broken it. Even Kayla’s wish for something she’d probably never get hadn’t broken it.

Angela was going to make sure nothing ever did. “MapQuest said it’d be about fifteen hours. Is that okay?”

“It’s great,” she replied. “I didn’t realize Denver was so far from where you grew up.”

Kayla’s excitement lessened Angela’s anxiety about returning to Virginia City. Maybe their second Christmas together would be everything she’d hoped. It certainly couldn’t be worse than the first, when Stephanie had shown up completely wasted and without a gift for Kayla. “I wish we could drive straight through, but we started too late this morning.” Last night they’d stayed up late packing, so they hadn’t gotten up as early as Angela would’ve liked.

Kayla took a rubber tie from her wrist and pulled her thick hair into a ponytail. “We can go as far as possible before we stop, right? I’ll help keep you awake. I love long car rides.”

Angela smiled. “So do I.”

“Is that why we didn’t go on a plane?”

“Partly. That and the fact that Virginia City’s a very small town. If we’d flown, we would’ve landed in Reno and then had to rent a car. And since we’ll be staying for two weeks, I’d prefer to have my own transportation.” Angela liked the flexibility having her car would provide. She and Kayla could head home anytime they wanted, without notifying anyone.

If she found Matt happily married with a few kids, she’d probably do that sooner rather than later.

“What if we run into a storm? Will we have to stop?” Kayla asked.

“That depends. I brought chains, but if it’s snowing too hard, we might want to get a room and wait it out.”

Kayla adjusted the seat belt so she could turn toward Angela. “Are you excited to see all your old friends?”

“The few who still live there,” Angela said.

“Almost everyone moved away?”

“A lot of us did. Unless you run a restaurant, a store or a hotel—or you’re willing to commute twenty-five miles to Reno—it’s not easy to make a living in Virginia City.”

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