A Mummy for Christmas (8 page)

She nodded, trying to ignore the way her heart raced and her breath caught.

“I'd like you to come to the party and the carol service.” His eyes held her captive, his voice low and intoxicating. “I like being with you, Carly. I never really cared much for journalists, but I look at you, and I don't see what you do for a living. I see you. And I like what I see.”

“Well, as we're being honest, this is far more than an assignment now.” She shivered as his hands grazed her arms and held her still. Her breath caught in her throat as his firm body leaned against hers. He needed to come with a health warning. “I haven't felt like this in a long time. Actually, I'm not sure what I think or feel, because being around you makes my head spin and my heart race out of control and I feel like I'm flying. But that's crazy.”

Stan's lips were inches from hers. “I think you're over thinking this,” he whispered.

“I am?” Carly couldn't move even if she wanted to. Rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, the way his nearness made her traitorous body react.

“Yes, because you send me places no one has in years.” He leaned in, lips parting slightly, about to kiss her.

Carly closed her eyes.

“Daddy?”

Stan pulled back. “Yes?” he called back.

Disappointment soared through Carly, echoed in the gaze of the man holding her.

“Are you and Carly coming or did the dishwasher eat you?”

“Yes, we're coming.” He rubbed his thumb gently over her lips. “We'll take a rain check on this,” he whispered.

“I've never known what one of those is.”

“Honestly, me neither.”

“Come on!” yelled the impatient child. “This tree is not gonna make itself.”

Carly smiled. “Better go. Time, tide and Haley-Jo wait for no man.”

7

Stan assembled the tree, his mind not on Christmas or the task in hand but full of the almost kiss. What was he thinking? He'd almost kissed Carly. He'd wanted to. He still wanted to. As he strung the fairy lights up, he glanced over at her and Haley-Jo giggling and playing with the ornaments. Haley-Jo was giving Carly a potted history of each tree decoration.

For the first time he saw them together, and his heart almost stopped. They looked alike.

He shook his head. No, it couldn't be. He was reading too much into this.

Carly looked over at him and grinned. “Really?”

“What did I miss?” he asked, not sure he actually wanted to know.

She held up the brightly colored horse ornament with a toothpick horn he'd glued on several years ago. Once he'd repainted the horse that was. “Seriously?”

Heat filled his cheeks. “What can I say? Everyone needs a magical rainbow unicorn occasionally. I bet she didn't tell you about evil shepherd though.”

Haley-Jo pulled a face. “Daddy…”

“Haley-Jo…” he replied in the same tone. “You tell on me and it's only fair I do the same. Anyway,” he pulled over the box of nativity figures. “This is evil shepherd who has a tendency to be really mean to all the other characters. He's held them hostage, tied them to the railway line and there was this one time he decided to kidnap the stable cat and feed it to the donk—”

He broke off as Haley-Jo leapt on him and attacked him. He pretended to be a bear, and rolled her over onto the floor tickling her and growling.

Carly laughed.

Stan hugged his daughter. “Just be grateful I didn't tell her about the abseiling incident. I think we should get on with this tree, or it'll be bed time before we're done.” He started to hang the ornaments, barely aware of Carly taking a few photos as they did. The last one hung, he nodded to his daughter. “Go turn the lights on.”

She grinned and pressed the switches on the extension lead. “Ta-da!” she sang. The tree lit up, the mix of colored and white lights sending a soft glow everywhere. Then, she grabbed the angel. “I want to do Gloria Chelsea.”

Stan lifted her up so she could reach the top of the tree.

Carly grabbed the camera, taking several shots as Haley-Jo put the angel in place. “Lovely. Can I have one of the two of you standing next to it?”

Stan set Haley-Jo down and smiled as they posed for several pictures, some silly and some sensible. “Does that have a timer?” he asked.

Carly nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then set it and get over here. I want one with you in.” As she joined them, he slid an arm around her waist and held her close, with Haley-Jo standing in front of them. “I'd like a copy of this one.”

“For your dart board?” she asked looking at him. “For when you have an ‘I hate journalist's' day?”

He gazed into her eyes as the camera clicked. “Something like that.”

Haley-Jo sighed. “You weren't even looking at the camera. Now we have to do it again.”

“Not a problem.” Carly reset the camera and when she rejoined them, Stan held her close again. “I can put them on your computer before I leave if you like.”

“Thank you. That'd be good.” The clock chimed, and he looked at his daughter. “Eight o'clock. Time for bed.”

“Daddy…”

“It's late and a school night. Say goodnight to Carly and go on up and clean your teeth. I'll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in.”

“Do I still get a story?”

He nodded. “Last time I checked that
was
part of tucking you in.”

“Can Carly read it?”

“If she wants to.”

Haley-Jo turned to Carly and gave her the puppy dog eyes he knew so well. “Please, Carly.”

Carly hesitated, and Stan suddenly realized how hard this all must be for her. “OK, but I've never done this before. You'll have to tell me what to do.”

Haley-Jo grabbed Carly's hand tugging her from the room. “It's easy. You just sit on my bed and open the book and read the words. You don't need to make a story up like Daddy does.”

Stan packed up some of the boxes and carried them upstairs. He leaned against the bannisters listening to Carly read. His mind whirled at ninety miles an hour. What if Carly
was
Haley-Jo's birth mother? There were just too many similarities between the two stories. Would she want custody? Would the fact she hadn't signed the papers and not given consent nullify the adoption?

Haley-Jo yawned. “Thank you for reading. Now we say my prayers.”

Stan moved away from the door. “I'll do those.”

Carly stood. “OK. I'll go and put those photos on your computer for you.”

He sat on the bed. “OK, thanks.”

Carly smiled. “Night, Haley-Jo.”

“Night, Carly.” Haley-Jo snuggled into Stan. “If I do get a new mummy, can she be just like Carly?” she asked quietly.

Stan closed his eyes, his heart aching. “We'll see.”

When he got downstairs, Carly had packed away all her things. “The pictures are on the desktop. I really enjoyed today. Thank you.”

“It was fun.” Stan moved across the room to her. “It's been just the two of us for so long, but having you here seems right, somehow.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Might even get a tree for my place after this.”

“Well, if you want help putting it up, give us a shout.”

Her gaze landed on the wooden box on the table. “What's that?”

“That's the nativity scene. I'm surprised Haley-Jo didn't insist on putting it up. It goes on the fireplace.”

“May I?” she reached out a hand to it.

Stan nodded. “Sure.”

Carly sat on the couch and picked up the ornately carved box. She ran her fingers over it. “This box is lovely.”

“The chest belonged to Julie's grandmother. It got passed down to her daughter, then Julie and now Haley-Jo has it.”

“Is the nativity set that old?”

Stan shook his head. “I don't think so. We got it when Haley-Jo was a baby.”

Carly opened the box. She pulled out the pieces one by one, recognition flickering in her eyes, before tears filled them.

Stan knelt beside her. He laid his hand on hers, worried by her reaction. “What's wrong?”

“I used to have one exactly like this when I was a child.” She put the pieces down one at a time. “It's like seeing old friends again.”

“Do you still have yours?”

She shook her head. “No, I haven't seen it in years. I assumed it got lost when they packed up and sold my house after the accident.” She pulled out the donkey and caught her breath. “Ohhhhh….”

“What is it?” He looked from the donkey to Carly. “Carly?”

Her fingers moved over the broken ear. “Mine had a break here, too.” She turned the donkey over, the color draining from her face. “I don't believe it…” She held out the donkey for him to see. “My name…”

Stan took the donkey. On the underneath, written in tiny childish writing, it said Carly Jo. How come he'd never noticed that before? He'd always assumed it said Haley-Jo. Something slammed into his gut knocking the breath and stuffing from him. His entire world crumbled around him.

“Where did you get it?”

“Julie got…” He broke off. “If it's yours then you should have it back. I'll get a new one tomorrow.”

Carly hesitated, as if unsure whether to leave the nativity set here or not. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yes.” His heart broke. He looked away, unable to watch as she slid the pieces into her camera bag.

“Thanks. I should probably make a move.” She stood. “What time is the carol service on Sunday?”

“Six thirty.”

“OK. I'll see you then.”

He noticed she hadn't mentioned the party, but maybe that was a good thing now. He saw her out and shut the front door. He turned and leaned against it, burying his head in his hands.

Julie ran into the room, her eyes sparkling. “Stan, look at this. It belonged to Haley-Jo's mother. Her relatives want us to have it. I figured we could put it in my wooden box and unite the two families properly. Something from them and something from us for Haley-Jo to pass on to her kids one day.”

Tears ran slowly down Stan's face. He could no longer class it as an “if” or a “but.” It was a fact. Carly was Haley-Jo's mother. He dropped to his knees, hands whitening as he clenched them.

God, show me what to do now, because I have no idea. Everything is happening at once. She wanted a mother and it seems you're providing one, but does that mean I might lose her if her Christmas wish is to come true?

8

Carly sat in the car, tears pouring down her cheeks. Huge sobs wracked her body. The nativity set lay on her lap. She'd never expected to see it again and for it to turn up here of all places? Her tears turned to anger.

Her mother had to be behind this, too. She had to be. Carly pulled out her phone and dialed the number. It was time to deal with this once and for all. She got the answerphone of what sounded like a nursing home. Narrowing her eyes, she left a short sharp message. “This is Carly Jefferson. I'm trying to get hold of my mother, Rose Jefferson. Could you have her call me on this number, please?”

A tap on the window made her jump. She opened it and turned to find Stan standing there.

“Are you OK?”

“Not really.” She rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. “Look at me, no, actually, don't look at me. I'm a right mess.”

His finger caught a stray tear. “Do you want to come back inside, talk for a bit?”

“I don't think that's a good idea, do you?”

“You mean the almost kiss?”

She shifted in her seat as his fingers lingered, sending her pulse sky rocketing. He wasn't making this easy. “For one thing. The nativity set being another.”

“Don't you trust me?”

“It's myself I don't trust, not you. See, being around you my head goes skip and my heart takes over and …” She broke off. “Sorry. I'm not thinking straight.”

“We need to talk,” he said gently. He opened the car door. “Come on. I promise not to make a move on you.”

“OK.” She picked up her bag and followed him inside the house. She perched on the edge of the couch.

Stan sat beside her, his hand tantalizingly close, but not touching. “Want me to start?”

She shook her head. “Seeing the nativity set again just threw me. I bet it was my mother who gave it away. Along with everything else when she gave away my baby. She was told I wouldn't ever wake; that I was going to die as a result of the accident. The baby was fostered at the end of September. When I woke, she told me the baby died at birth. It was only six months later she told me the truth.”

She held Stan's gaze, but somehow he didn't seem surprised. He looked at his hands for a moment, then back up. “Our papers were signed eight years ago on December twentieth. Julie told me the nativity set came with the baby, from her birth mother. The surviving relatives wanted us to have it. But, to be honest, seeing the two of you together this evening, I'd already wondered if you, if Haley-Jo was, if she might be…”

“My daughter,” she whispered as his voice broke.

Could it be true? Had this strange set of circumstances, a work assignment and a child's request to Father Christmas, finally led her to her daughter?

“She looks so much like you.” He paused. “What do we do now?”

“What do you mean what do we do? Do you want me to have a DNA test to prove she's mine or something?”

Stan sucked in a deep breath.

Did she really want to go down that path herself? Would it be better just to drop things? She wasn't sure. But did either of them really have a choice in the matter?

Finally he looked up. “Do you want custody? You didn't sign her over, so is the adoption even legal?”

“I don't know. I do know I want to be part of her life.” Shock and awe filled her. But more than anything she was lost, as if she were drowning in a sea of her wildest dreams.