A Simple Charity (29 page)

Well, he assumed that the golden glow from the front windows was Meg waiting for him. Dang. He’d never had a girl wait up for him without complaining—especially on a holiday like Christmas. Police work could be inconvenient, a sacrifice for cops and their families. But Meg got that. Her line of work required sacrifice, too.

The paving stones had been cleared of snow. As he walked to the front door, he tapped her name on his cell phone and held it to his ear. Better to call than to ring the bell and risk disturbing anyone.

“Jack.” She sounded happy to hear him. Her voice melted something inside him, something that had long been frozen in place.

“Ho, ho, ho. You know you got a fine-looking man waiting on your doorstep?”

“Santa?” she teased.

“Naw. He came by last night.”

He heard the click of the lock and saw light emanate from the crack. “Oh, this guy’s much better looking than Santa.”

Now he heard her voice in stereo, from the phone and from the doorway. The light behind her rimmed the edges of her red hair with a golden glow, even as it outlined her frame, that hourglass shape that couldn’t be disguised by a bulky cable-knit sweater and blue jeans.

“You waited for me.” Somehow that meant so much to him. “Were you dozing off by the fire?”

“Are you kidding me?” She stepped forward into the splash of illumination from the Christmas lights and pulled him into her warm, sweet glow. “I am an expert waiter. I wait on mothers. I wait on reluctant, sleepy babies who come into this world on their own, very particular schedules. I’ll never have any problem waiting for the man I love.”

Man, she had a knack for choking him up. “Good to hear. So it looks like I’m just in time to be the last person to wish you a Merry Christmas. At least until next year.”

“Oh, you don’t know my sister. In Zoey’s house, Christmas is a state of mind that lasts through the year.”

“I like that. How about one more Christmas kiss?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Any excuse for a kiss.” She rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his, a light sweep, then more of a commitment. He answered with a deep, tender kiss that just about drained every ounce of control from his body. He let his fingers curl into her silken hair, then glide down her shoulders, evoking a sigh from deep inside her.

He ended the kiss slowly, but held her in his arms. “You gonna invite me in, or we gonna build a snow castle out here?”

She pulled him by the arm. “Come on in.”

A middle-aged couple nodded a greeting as Meg introduced Dave and Karen Balfour. They were visiting Halfway from their home outside Boston, spending Christmas with good friends who had just moved to the area.

“My kids,” Karen said, explaining that she had kept in close contact with the children she had provided day care for. “And now that they have kids of their own, well … it’s the great circle of life.”

“We were just heading off to bed,” Dave said, opening the French door that led to the hallway. “We’ve got a big day planned tomorrow.”

“More shopping and ice-skating,” Karen added. “And a lot of good eats. You guys have great treats here. We love those whoopie pies.”

Jack agreed. “The Amish know how to do desserts.”

The couple said good night and headed off to their room. Meg closed the French door behind them as Jack shrugged out of his leather jacket and took a seat on the couch in front of the flickering
gas fireplace. Meg nestled in beside him, and they talked about how they’d spent the day.

After a brunch for the inn’s handful of guests, Meg and Zoey had gone online for a video chat with their mother, who kept squinting at the camera suspiciously. “She always worries that she won’t be able to turn the camera off,” Meg explained. “That it’s going to keep watch over her like Big Brother.”

“I get that,” he said.

“And how was work?”

“The real kicker was this neighbor dispute. One family’s hound dog, old Toby, got loose and moseyed next door to where Mrs. Maresh was letting the roast rest. The dog got in the door, darted to the table, and had that boneless beef roast devoured in a matter of minutes.”

“You’re kidding me.” Meg’s eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Total truth. Mrs. Maresh came back downstairs in her Christmas sweater to find her husband still napping and their dinner gone.”

She chuckled. “That must have been disappointing, but I can just imagine the dog’s delight. He scored a Christmas feast.”

“But the best part is the happy ending.” He told her how relations had been chilly between the two neighbors. That was why Mrs. Maresh had called to lodge a complaint against the dog’s owners. But in the end, the dog people invited the Mareshes to come over and share their prime-rib dinner. “So the complaint was dropped, everybody got a good dinner, and the neighbors might just become friends. Toby was relegated to the garage, but he got a nice Christmas dinner out of the deal.”

They talked about pets they had been fond of as kids. Meg had grown up with cats in the house—mostly strays but one Siamese that had an affinity for barbecue-flavored potato chips.

“My grandmother wouldn’t let me take in a dog,” Jack said, “but
I totally bonded with this little long-haired dachshund named Odie. Lisa and I found him at the dog rescue shelter one day, and she pushed her parents until they said yes. That Odie, he was a good watchdog. Barked at most men. Didn’t really like Lisa’s dad, but he loved me. I’d lift him up to the couch to watch TV with us. I made sure he got fed and watered and walked. Yeah, Odie and me, we bonded.”

“Wait. How old were you when you had this dog?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Fifteen or sixteen. I think I’d just gotten my license.”

“And you were seeing Lisa back then?”

He nodded. “We were childhood sweethearts who ended up getting engaged. You know how that goes.”

“Not really. I don’t think I ever dated anyone for more than a year.”

“Oh, well, the teen couple thing can be a trap. We were best friends first. I was really tied into Lisa’s whole family, and I know they liked me. They thought I was good for her, and maybe I was.”

You’re so good for our Lisa
, her mother had said.
I don’t know what we did before you came along, Jack. Our girl is a lost lamb without you
.

At the time, it had felt good to have someone relying on him. He thought he could be strong for the two of them. He would be the foundation, the pillar that held things up, while she was the soul of the relationship, the whimsical, beautiful dancer who made each moment count. But time had taught him that one person could not save another from herself. After so many years spent at the edge of the pond, reaching for Lisa in yet another attempt to save her, he’d had to let her go.

“So how did it end?” she asked. “I mean, you dated her for years, right?”

“Yup. We were engaged, planning the wedding.”

And then, yet again, she’d gone off her medication. The meds,
she claimed, stripped her life of all excitement. The drug that was designed to moderate mood swings had left Lisa feeling like her life was an endless succession of mediocre moments. “It makes me boring,” she’d insisted. So she had gone off the meds. And she’d gone into crisis mode. She’d barricaded herself in the apartment and called the cops when he tried to come near her. She’d come to his workplace and blasted him with accusations: cheating and lying and assault. Although none of her charges was true, the department took it seriously when one of Philly’s finest was accused of assault.

“I can see I’ve hit a nerve,” Meg said, drawing him back to the present.

In the glow of the fire flickering on Meg’s skin and lighting her hair like a copper penny, he needed to be giving his attention to her—not to the nagging ghost of Lisa.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” said Meg.

“I just don’t feel comfortable sharing all her personal details,” he said. “Lisa suffers from a disorder and …” He stopped himself. “I’ve probably said too much already. I really cared about her. I always will. But it’s over between us. I got out of Philly so she could have her space. I’ve moved on, and I wish her well.”

Meg tilted her head to the side, assessing him in her thorough, concerned manner. “Healing takes time,” she said. “Sometimes it helps to talk. Sometimes a wound heals faster when you don’t pick at it.”

He snickered. “That’s the medical terminology? ‘Don’t pick.’ ”

She gave a confident nod. “Yup.” She moved from the sofa to open one of the wooden cupboards beside the fireplace. “I say we crack open one of the board games. You choose. I’ll go get us drinks. Hot chocolate or sparkling cider?”

He chose the cider and started setting up the Game of Life, which had always been his sister’s favorite. “Kat always wanted to play so that she could buy herself a carload of kids,” he told Meg, once she’d returned with two goblets of sparkling apple juice.

“Definitely a girl thing,” Meg agreed. “We girls were all about love and marriage while you boys were always trying to get great jobs and insurance policies. So boring.”

“Yeah, well, most of us guys come around to the kid thing,” he said. “Now I see how important family is, and I think, you and I, we’d make pretty good parents.”

Her eyes opened wide as she put her goblet down. “Yes, we would. Definitely. I … I really want to have kids.”

He sensed her awkwardness. “Here I go, pushing ahead. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It’s something couples need to discuss … just not right now.” She spun a six. “Woo-hoo! I am going to take my husband and twins and move ahead six spaces.”

He took a swallow of cider and watched as she moved the little plastic car. There was something mesmerizing about Meg, even her simplest movements: the way she tilted her head, pushed her hair over one shoulder, and then flashed a look up at him.

“Your turn,” she said.

Dang if she wasn’t the best thing that ever rolled into Lancaster County, into his life, into his heart. He had it bad and he didn’t even care. If this was love, then, good Lord in Heaven, bring it on.

24

A
ny worries about smoothing things over with Joan Fisher flew out of Fanny’s mind when guests began arriving the next day to celebrate second Christmas. Joy filled the house as family and friends shared Christmas greetings and personal stories and hearty jokes. A chain of Beth’s hand-cut stars hung over the door. Emma had shown the children how to string up the cards the family had received from Englisher friends, and it made for a cheerful design over the kitchen sink. The kitchen table was nearly overflowing with casserole dishes, bowls of fruit, platters of cookies, and melt-in-your-mouth cakes.

Besides delicious food and good conversation, the house was bursting with so many little ones! Many of the Plain folks whose children Fanny helped deliver dropped by with cookies or sweets or nuts.

“Oh, let me have a chance to hold little John!” Fanny reached out and Lizzy swung the five-month-old into her arms. “You’re
getting to be such a big boy!” Fanny told the baby, who studied her with his father’s keen, observant eyes. She couldn’t resist running her fingertips over his doughy cheek. “Are you the light of your mamm’s life?” she asked.

“Ya,” Lizzy answered, “but his dat can’t get enough of him, either. Joe talks and sings to him all the time. He’s been sleeping through the night for two months now.”

“Such a blessing.” Fanny smoothed down the baby’s dark hair and passed him back to his mother, as Remy King waved from across the room. Adam gently touched his wife’s shoulder and guided her over so that Fanny could see baby Essie, a sweet thing with hair as bright as a copper penny, just like her mother. Adam’s sister Mary joined them. She had little Nathan perched on her shoulder, and Fanny shared a few tips on burping that she had learned from her own children. How Fanny enjoyed the sweet cries and bright eyes of the babies!

When the Millers arrived, many of the guests spilled out of the house to have a look at the new birdhouse that Zed and Will had built.

“So how did it all go yesterday?” Zed asked Will, speaking in that low man-to-man banter. “Was your mamm surprised?”