A Mummy for Christmas (11 page)

Haley-Jo looked up from her empty plate. “Can I play on your phone?”

He nodded and handed it over. “No downloading anything.”

“I promise.” She took the handset and scrambled from the table. She and the unicorn skipped to the door, singing
Silent Night.

Stan sighed.

Mum started clearing the table. “Will Carly change her mind now?”

He shrugged. “No idea. She wanted DNA tests done at first. Now she doesn't.” He sucked in a deep breath and wiped his mouth on the serviette. “The thing is, I've fallen for her. Which is a crazy thing to say after only a week.”

“You fell for Julie in two days if I remember rightly. Is Carly a Christian?”

Stan nodded. “Yes.”

“And she likes you.”

“I think so.”

“Haley-Jo is besotted with her, and you know Carly loves her.”

“Yes, but that's beside the point.” He paused, trying to make this sound right. “If it were just me, then I'd go for it. But it isn't, and I don't want Carly to think I have an ulterior motive here.”

The door flung open. Haley-Jo ran in holding out the phone. “Carly's crying and won't stop.”

Stan took the phone. “Carly?”

“Please come…” she sobbed.

He rose and grabbed his keys. “Where are you? Are you still in Wales?”

“No, I'm home. Well, outside the church.”

“Stay there. I'll be ten minutes.” He hung up. “Mum, can you keep an eye on Haley-Jo?”

Mum nodded. “Go. She needs you.”

“Did she ring me, wombat?”

Haley-Jo shook her head. “I rang her. And I sent her a photo of me and Blue Unicorn.”

“OK. I'll see you later. At church for the service if not before.” He ran to the car, praying the whole time.

~*~

Carly sat on the church steps, her heart breaking. A gentle snow started to fall. Her stomach ached as tears fell. She hadn't wanted to start crying again, knowing she'd be unable to stop, but the carol service from King's College had been on the TV and her mother used to love watching that.

She shivered, cold to the bone, but it hadn't been snowing when she'd left the house. She'd been trying to decide what to do. Stay here, or go back to Wales and look after her mother for however long she had left. In fact she'd just about decided to do that, backing it up with random verses from Scripture, when Haley-Jo had first sent her a photograph and then called her. Now she didn't know what to do.

A car door slammed. Running footsteps crossed the path to her. “Carly?”

She looked up into Stan's face. “You…came…” she managed.

He nodded. “Of course. You look freezing. Come back to my place, we can talk there.” He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Where's your coat?”

She shook her head. “Left it at home. And we can't go to your place. I can't have Haley-Jo seeing me like this.”

“Then we'll go to the pub. It'll be warm in there, and they sell coffee.”

“A pub?” She rubbed her eyes. She slid her arms into his coat, glad of the warmth it offered. “I can't. I'm a mess.”

“They won't care. And they do food, too. I'll treat you to coffee and a really sticky, fattening pudding.”

Carly sniffled and picked up the carrier bag by her side. “OK.”

Stan led her to his car. He put the heating on full blast. “You're shivering.”

“I'm cold,” she whispered, blowing on her hands.

“There are gloves in the pockets.” He pulled away from the pavement, driving carefully in the falling snow.

She reached into the pockets and tugged on the gloves, not sure she'd ever be warm again. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the car door, not saying anything. His presence overwhelmed her. She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her. She'd gained a daughter, but was losing a mother. Stan pulled into the pub car park and stopped as close to the door as possible. “Here we are.”

Carly picked up the carrier bag and got out of the car. She let him take her hand and lead her inside. They found a table and then Stan went over to the bar to order. Watching him, her heart pounded. He alone could make her whole again. She wanted him with every breath she took.

Stan came over with the mugs. “Here you are. They'll bring the puddings over in a few.”

Carly wrapped her hands around the mug. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He sipped his. “Haley-Jo said she rang you.”

“I answered because I thought it was you.”

“I called several times the past couple of days. I was worried when you didn't answer.”

“Sorry. I didn't want to worry you or anyone else. I've been busy with Mam, trying to work things out. She's doing better, seems to have rallied. Surprised all the doctors.”

“So why answer this time?”

“I don't know.” She looked down. “I wasn't ready to talk to anyone. I didn't want to do exactly what I'm doing now. Crying and making a fool of myself. So I just put my phone on silent and ignored it. But then you sent that lovely picture of Haley-Jo and when the phone rang it had your name on it, and I really wanted to hear your voice.”

Stan covered her hand with his. “Oh, honey, you're not making a fool of yourself. You're allowed to cry and grieve and take time to do so. There aren't any rules that tell us how to act when we're losing someone. Especially someone close to us.” His thumb moved over her fingers, sending her pulse racing. “What are you going to do?”

She shrugged, not saying anything as the server brought over two bowls of chocolate sponge pudding and set them on the table. “Thanks.” She stabbed the pudding and took a bite. “I thought I might quit my job, go back to Cardiff, be close to Mam and find another job doing something else. I'm no good at this journalism malarkey. I mean, look what I did to you.”

Stan's face fell before he masked it. “That was your editor, not you. He wrote to me and apologized.”

“That was big of him. But I don't want to…I can't…” She held out the bag. “Haley-Jo should have this.”

Stan took the bag and looked inside. “It's your nativity set.”

“Mam gave it to Haley-Jo. It belongs to her now. And I want her to have it.”

He moved around the table and slid into the seat next to her. He grasped her hand firmly. “Carly, we need you.”

“That's nice of you to say so, but you don't.”

He gently turned her face to his. “God led you to me for a purpose. Haley-Jo wants a mummy, and God saw to it that you were here. Not only someone that I liked, but someone who really was her mother. Carly…” he paused, his eyes flickering. “We've known each other two weeks, if that, but it seems so much longer. Just seeing you, hearing your voice, is enough to brighten my day. You make my heart sing.”

She tried to look away, but his gaze was hypnotic. Every word he spoke resonated within her, a mirror image of the way she felt about him.

“And Haley-Jo adores you.”

“She doesn't know me.”

“When she rang you, what did she say?”

“She asked how I was. She said she knows what it's like to lose her mummy, and it's all right to be sad when Mam dies, but not to cry for long because we'll see them again in heaven.” She punched her chest. “But it hurts here. It's tearing me apart that Mam's not got long left, and I spent so long hating her whilst all the time she was sick and dying, and feeling just as bad about everything as I did.”

“Don't blame yourself for that. She doesn't. Remember what I told you about love?”

“It covers a multitude of sins.” She sighed.

“Well, yeah, but I was thinking more of it being the one constant in our lives. That under the anger and harsh words of the moment, love remains.”

She nodded.

He tucked her hair behind her ears. “I can't think straight when I'm around you.”

“Nor I you.” She took his hand, moving her thumb over the back of it. “You do this and my head goes skip. I want to be with you so badly.”

“Then stay.”

“I can't.” Her voice wavered and she coughed to cover it.

“Why not? We can find a nursing home for your mum here.” Stan brushed her cheek with his fingertips, causing a shiver to start inside her, gradually working its way out. “What's Cardiff got that Bramley hasn't? Aside from a higher crime rate and several huge shopping malls?”

“Football.”

He smiled. “I prefer tennis myself. But if it's a new job you really want, there are several others here. I can think of one off the top of my head if you want it.”

“What's that?”

“Well, Haley-Jo wants a mummy for Christmas. But we both know that mummies are for life and not just for Christmas, to coin a phrase.”

Carly's heart skipped a beat. “Are you serious?” She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Surely he didn't mean…

“Of course, we kind of come as a package deal. Her and me.”

“I don't understand…”

“I really ought to get down on one knee,” he said, “but there really isn't the room here. Carly, I love you. Will you marry me?”

12

Stan spent the carol service on tenterhooks. Carly hadn't given him an answer. She'd kissed his cheek, thanked him for asking and said she'd tell him later. Was that a ‘no'? If it was, he'd rather she gave him a flat out, not-if-you-were-the-last-man-on-the-face-of-the-planet-would-I-marry-you no. Maybe she didn't trust his motives. Perhaps she was under the impression he was marrying her purely because she was Haley-Jo's mother.

Which he wasn't.

The Lord knew how much he wasn't. Yes, he'd do anything to keep Haley-Jo, but that would just be low and underhanded.

Halfway through the sermon, Carly passed him her phone. He glanced down at the screen.
We need to talk to Haley-Jo before I give you an answer. This affects her, too.

You mean talk to her or tell her the truth.
He typed and handed back the phone.

Carly studied the message and replied.
Both. She has to know, and I don't want her accepting me only to find in 10 yrs time we've both been lying to her.

Stan sighed.
OK.
He looked down at his hands.

Haley-Jo nudged him. “Stop passing notes in church,” she whispered. “You'll go to hell.”

“Shh…” He scrunched his nose up at her, not sure where she got those weird notions.

He rose to sing the last carol, but not even the rousing rendition of
“
Hark the Herald Angels Sing
”
with organ, orchestra, drums, and cymbals, could calm his nerves. He slid his hand into Carly's ignoring the look Haley-Jo shot him. Carly completed him. And if she said no, he didn't know what he'd do. So much was riding on this.

As they sat, he glanced at his daughter. “Haley-Jo, come and sit between us.” Instead, she sat on his lap and leaned against him. “OK, that works. Right, do you remember what you asked Father Christmas for?”

“A mummy,” she responded instantly.

Stan nodded. “Well, I think I may have found one. It'd mean me marrying her.”

Haley-Jo's face fell. “Oh…”

Stan and Carly exchanged a long look. “Don't you want to know who?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Don't like her.”

Carly stood, her eyes glistening and devastation written on her face. “I'll go, let you talk.”

Stan grabbed her hand, desperate to get to the bottom of this one way or the other. “Wait.”

“You heard what she said. This isn't going to work.”

“Carly, please, just sit.” He waited until she'd sat down, then looked at Haley-Jo. “Sweetheart, who don't you like?”

“That Sophie woman. She raved about you the whole flight.”

“I'm not talking about Sophie. I'm talking about Carly.”

“This Carly?”

“How many Carly's do we know?” Stan rolled his eyes. “How would you like Carly to be your mummy?”

She tilted her head. “For real? Are you going to marry her?”

“I've asked her, and she hasn't replied yet, but…”

“What do you think, Haley-Jo?” Carly said quietly.

Haley-Jo scrunched up her nose and giggled. “I don't wanna marry him. He snores.”

“Thanks,” Stan muttered.

“But there's something else you need to know first.” Carly laid a hand on Stan's arm.

“All you have to do is say yes, right?” Haley-Jo looked from Carly to Stan and back again.

“I told you my mam gave away something of mine, right? Well, eight years ago I had a baby. A little girl. But I was very sick, and the doctors said I would die and because Mam was ill she couldn't look after her. So, another couple got to look after the baby and raise her as their own.”

“She was adopted like me?”

Carly nodded. “She was born eight years ago on September tenth and adopted on December twentieth.”

Something flickered in Haley-Jo's eyes as she heard the dates. “Same as me. What was her name?”

Carly's eyes filled with tears. “I never got to hold her or give her a name.”

Stan gripped Carly's hand. “She did have a name, but her new parents gave her another so she had two. She uses both, her adopted name first and her mummy's name second. She was named after her mummy.”

Carly's gaze met his, shock filling them.

“Remember when you found your name on the bottom of the donkey? Carly Jo…Haley-Jo.”

“I don't get it,” Haley-Jo said. “Are you saying that Carly is my real mummy? You told me she was dead.”

Stan hugged her. “Sweetheart, we were told that your birth mother was dead, and I only just found out the other day that she wasn't.”

Carly wiped the tears away. “And I only found out at the same time who you were.”