A Mummy for Christmas (7 page)

Haley-Jo answered. “Daddy!” She bear hugged him, then looked up. “What's adopted mean?”

Stan looked at her, stunned. Why would she suddenly ask him that, when he'd be plagued by the same thought all afternoon? “Hello to you too, wombat. Why'd you ask?”

“They were talking about it on the telly, and Gramma went all funny when I asked her.”

Great. Now what do I do? So much for not telling her.
“We'll talk about it later.”

“That means never,” Haley-Jo grumbled.

“No, it means later. Carly is coming to help put the tree up, remember, and if we don't go now she'll be there before we are.”

Haley-Jo nodded and ran to the car. “Bye, Gramma,” she yelled over her shoulder.

Mum looked at him. “You have to tell her.”

“I know, but not yet.” Was this a Divine nudge? Adoption had been the last thing on his mind until that lunchtime talk with Carly. Now, it was the only thing he could think about.

“The longer you leave it, the harder it'll be. And if she's asking questions…”

Stan hugged her. “I know. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for having her.” He headed out to the car and got in.”

“So?” Haley-Jo asked as soon as he shut the door.

“Once the tree is up. Are you strapped in?” Stan started the car and reached for his belt.

“Yes. I am, and I want to talk about adoption now, please.”

He sighed. “OK.” Checking the road, he pulled out, praying for the right words. He really couldn't afford to mess this up. “Adoption is when you become part of another person's family instead of the one you were born into. The new family becomes legally responsible for you. And the new parents love and care for the child like one of their own.”

“So it's just like they said in Sunday School? God makes us part of His family in heaven.”

Stan nodded. “Exactly. It doesn't make people any less important because they were chosen rather than born into a family.” He winked. “But no, before you ask, we can't adopt a mummy. It doesn't work like that.”

“That's a shame.” Haley-Jo looked out of the window, the frown on her face along with her tongue sticking out slightly, meaning she was thinking long and hard about something.

“Penny for them, wombat,” he said after a while.

“I know,” she said quietly.

“Know what?” He slowed as the traffic signal turned from amber to red.

“I know that I'm adopted.”

Stan turned to his daughter, glad the light had stopped them. His heart thudded within his chest and his throat constricted, his stomach pitting. “
What
?” he managed.

“I know I'm adopted,” she repeated, looking at him.

The car behind him hooted. Stan looked to the signal, now green. He pulled away, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “Just hold that thought until we get home. I really don't want to crash.”

He concentrated on the road, praying desperately. He'd no idea who told her, but now everything was just going to spiral out of control. And he couldn't lose what little remained of his family.

6

Stan sat next to Haley-Jo on the couch. He honestly had no idea where to start.

Haley-Jo placed her much smaller hand on his. “It's OK, Daddy.”

“We were going to tell you when you were older, but then the accident happened and Mummy died, and I didn't want you to feel as if you had no one left. I will always love you, just the same, just like Mummy did.”

“Why did you choose me?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “We'd wanted a baby for a long time, but it just didn't happen. So we fostered. You know what that means?”

She nodded. “It's when you look after a child so they don't have to live in a children's home.” She grinned. “See, watching kids TV isn't a waste of time.”

Stan ruffled her hair. “Smarty pants. Anyway, the agency rang and said they had a newborn who needed fostering and adopting as she had no family. We collected you from the hospital and after three months the adoption went through. So you became our daughter on December twentieth.”

“Is that why we always have a party then and I get an early Christmas present?”

Stan nodded. “Yes.” He paused. “Who told you?”

“Mummy did.” Haley-Jo looked at him. “I dreamed about her last night. We were in the park. She told me how special I was and how much you both loved me and that nothing would change that. She also said that if I got a new mummy she wouldn't replace her.” She climbed onto his lap and snuggled against him. “It isn't going to change anything now that I know, is it?”

Stan shook his head and kissed the top of her head. “Nope. You still have to be in bed by seven thirty on a school night and no sweets before three in the afternoon. Ever. Oh, and no not brushing your teeth either.” He hugged her. “And you will always be my eldest daughter.”

“Good. I love you, Daddy man.”

“Love you too, Haley-Jo Wombat.”

~*~

Carly rang the doorbell, clutching the paper bag from the Christmas store in her hand. Warmth and carols flooded out to greet her as Haley-Jo opened the door. “Hi. Have you started without me?”

Haley-Jo smiled. “No. Daddy is just getting all the boxes down from the loft. Come in.” She turned to the stairs. “Carly's here,” she yelled. Then she shut the door. “Did you bring your camera?”

“I did.”

“Good, cause we have our matching Christmas jumpers on. It's all part of the tradition, although mince pies stink.”

“Haley-Jo, mind your language,” Stan's disembodied voice floated down the stairs.

Haley-Jo rolled her eyes. “Mince pies are disgusting and yucky,” she rephrased.

“All the more for me,” Stan said. “Hi, Carly. Can you give me a hand?”

Carly glanced up to see Stan struggling down the stairs with his arms full of boxes. “Sure. Dinner will be here in a few minutes. I ordered take out.” She held out the paper bag to Haley-Jo. “This is for your tree.” She put the camera bag down and moved to take a couple of the boxes from Stan. “Where'd you want them?”

“The lounge.”

“Is this all of it?”

“I wish. There's another four boxes on the landing.”

“Daddy, look what Carly bought me.” Haley-Jo jumped up and down waving the teddy bear ornament. “I love him, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Carly carried the boxes into the lounge and set them onto the floor.

Haley-Jo immediately ripped into one of them and pulled out a long piece of red tinsel. She tied it into her hair.

Stan laughed. “You look like a fairy. I'll have to put you on top of the tree. You'd see everything from up there.”

“But I'd miss out on so much stuff. 'Sides we put an angel on top of the tree, not a fairy.”

Carly followed Stan to get the rest of the boxes and set them on the floor in the lounge.

“Are you coming to my party on the twentieth?” Haley-Jo asked. “Well, it's more of a special dinner with an early Christmas present.”

“That's Sunday.” Carly swallowed. A party on that day was the last thing she'd ever consider doing.

The child nodded. “It's my special party day and then the carol service. They always turn the lights down low for it and this year we have a tree.”

“A tree in the church?”

“Yeah. It's evergreen which means it doesn't die or fade, just like God. It points to heaven. The lights mean the light of the world which is Jesus. And I think the ornaments are us.”

Carly smiled. “I think someone ate the Internet for lunch.”

Haley-Jo grinned. “No. Miss Roberts told us about it in class this afternoon.” She tilted her head as the doorbell rang. “Who's that?”

Stan shook his head as the doorbell rang. “I don't know.”

“That will most likely be our dinner,” Carly said. “I ordered pizza. Hope you don't mind. It's all paid for.”

“Not at all—we love pizza.” Stan vanished into the hallway and came back with the boxes. He set them on the table, opening them. “OK, we have ham and pineapple, meat feast, chicken strips, garlic bread and doughnuts.”

“Yummy!” Haley-Jo ran to the sideboard and pulled out three plates and a handful of serviettes. She put them on the table.

Stan said grace.

“So will you come to my party?” Haley-Jo asked, taking a piece of pizza. “It'll just be me, Daddy, Gramma, Grandad Josiah and Uncle Bryan. That's Mummy's daddy and Daddy's brother.” She grinned. “We have a very confuzzled family.”

“I don't want to intrude.”

“You won't be. Will she, Daddy?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “It's not up to me. It's Carly's choice.”

Carly looked at him. His strong features were only emphasized in the light from the lamps. This was far more than an assignment now. She had feelings for this man, far more than she had any right to have, and it threw her. “What's the party for? Is it your birthday?”

“No, my birthday is in September. December twentieth is my adoption day.”

Carly choked on the piece of chicken. Adopted? On that particular day? Eight years ago? Her head swam as she choked, and she wasn't sure if it were lack of air or shock.

Stan rose and ran around the table, thumping her on the back. “Are you OK?”

The chicken shifted and tears filled her eyes. She took the offered glass of water. “Yeah, it just went down the wrong way.” She desperately tried to rein in her tumbling emotions. The child was eight and born in September and adopted? Had she misheard? Either way, she had to know. “You're adopted?”

Haley-Jo nodded. “Yep, but it changes nothing. He's still my daddy, and I still have all these stupid rules to follow. But I'll always be his girl.”

Carly looked at Stan. She needed to control her rampant thoughts. There wasn't a link here, she shouldn't jump to conclusions.

“It's a long story. I'll tell you later, but
off the record
. I don't want any of this on the front page.”

She nodded. “OK.”

“So, will you come?” Haley-Jo persisted.

Carly nodded slowly. “I'll definitely make it to the carol service. And we'll see about the party. Depends what else is happening.”

“OK.” She took another slice of pizza. “Can we do the tree first?”

Stan nodded. “Sure. You can unpack it after dinner, while Carly and I do the dishes.”

“Cool.”

“When does school finish?”

“Friday.” Haley-Jo grinned. “We don't do any work on the last day. Just play board games all day long. We're allowed to bring in one from home, so I'm taking tumbling towers.”

“I'll have to try that one on the boss,” Carly said. “Not sure he'd go for it though. I'm not in his best books right now as it is.”

“Why not?”

Carly studied the young girl. “Because he asked me to do something that was wrong, and I wouldn't do it. And I told him so, too.”

“Oops,” Haley-Jo intoned with a serious face.

Stan reached for another slice of pizza. “Yes, oops, but you should never do something you know is wrong, no matter who asks you to do it.”

“Does that mean if you ask me to tidy my room on a Sunday…?”

Stan ruffled her hair. “Like I'd do such a thing. Oh, before I forget, you're doing breakfast club tomorrow because I have a flight at eight-thirty.”

“Where are you going?”

“Cardiff. I'll be back by tea time.”

“See, this is why I need a mummy.” Haley-Jo wiped her fingers on the serviette. “I hate breakfast club.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“They never do the toast hot, and they don't let you have sugar on your cereal.”

“Such a hard life. Are you finished?” Stan smiled as she nodded. “Then go and wash your hands, and you can unpack the box and find Gloria Chelsea.”

“Who's that?” Carly asked as she finished eating.

“The angel who sits on top of the tree. We sing about her.” Haley-Jo jumped down from the table. “Glor-or-or-or-or-or, or-or-or-or-or, or-or-or-or-oree-ia in Chelsea.” She left the room still singing.

Carly giggled. “I love it.” She stood and helped clear the table. She rinsed the plates and stacked the dishwasher, while Stan took the pizza boxes outside to recycle them. Once the kitchen was tidy she leaned against the worktop as he made the coffee. “You never said she was adopted. And after I told you about my daughter.”

“It's not public knowledge, and I don't want it in the paper,” he said. “It's a private family thing. Besides, I didn't really get chance.” He paused. “Julie couldn't have kids. So we fostered. We collected Haley-Jo from the hospital when she was a couple of weeks old with the option of adopting her, which we didn't even have to think about. We'd always planned to adopt and the chance of a newborn wasn't one we'd ever consider turning down. When she was three months old we signed the adoption papers.”

“How long has she known?”

“Not long. We were going to tell her when she was older, but then Julie died and…” He shrugged. “Anyway, she knows now.”

“What happened to her birth parents?”

He stirred the coffee slowly. “The adoption agency told me that her birth parents are dead, and her surviving relatives thought the baby would be better off with someone else. She brought us, me, so much joy. I would have given up long ago if it weren't for her.”

“I just hope my little girl found a family like yours and she's happy.” Carly took the cup, pausing as their hands touched sending ripples running through her. “Thanks. What will you do if she wants to find out about her family when she's old enough?”

“I shan't stop her. She can do that once she's eighteen.” He put his cup down and took her hand properly. “Can I be honest?”