The Christmas Wife (16 page)

Claire unwrapped the gift.  It was a plain white box and
Hattie, grinning from ear to ear, said, “Open the box, mama!”

She lifted the lid and her breath caught in her throat. 
Nestled among soft red velvet was the necklace from her grandmother.  She
stared at the slender silver chain with the matching silver pendant and the
tiny sapphire in the middle of it. 

“It’s your necklace, mama!”  Hattie shouted. 

Claire burst into tears and Hattie gave Deacon an alarmed
look.  “Why is mama crying?”

He set her on the floor next to him and hauled Claire into
his lap.  She buried her face in his neck and sobbed as Hattie patted her back
anxiously.

“Don’t cry, mama.  Please don’t cry.”

“It’s happy tears, honey,” Claire managed to choke out.

“People don’t cry when they’re happy.”  Hattie said.

“Sometimes they do,” Claire sobbed.  Deacon rubbed her back
as Hattie sat cross-legged in front of them. 

“I’m so sorry,” Claire said.

“For what?”  Deacon gave her a bewildered look and she burst
into tears again.

“All I got you was a p-pair of stupid g-gloves.”

Deacon laughed and wiped at her tears with his thumbs.  “I
love them.”

She touched Deacon’s face gently.  “How did you find this? 
How did you even know?”

“That night I came to your apartment, Hattie told me that
you had sold your necklace to the man at the pawn shop.”

“That was our secret mission,” Hattie said happily.  “I told
Deacon where the man at the pawn shop was and we went and got it.”

“Really?”  Claire gave Deacon a look of surprise and he
grinned at her.

“Well, it wasn’t that easy.  Hattie wasn’t exactly sure what
pawn shop it was so it took us a few tries.  You lived in an area with a lot of
damn pawn shops, Claire.”

She laughed as more tears ran down her face.  “I know.”

“I wanted to buy it back with my birthday money,” Hattie
said, “but the man at the pawn shop said I didn’t have enough.  Deacon said I
should keep my money and he bought the necklace because he’s rich and has lots
of money.”

She gave Deacon an anxious look.  “But it’s still from the
both of us, right, Deacon?  Because I showed you where it was.”

“That’s right, honey,” Deacon said soothingly.

“Thank you so much,” Claire whispered.  She hugged Deacon
tightly and kissed him again.

“You’re welcome.  Here, let me help you.”  He clasped the
necklace around her throat.  She touched the pendant, running her fingers over
it, as more tears leaked down her face.

“Mama, you’re crying again,” Hattie said.

“I know,” Claire cried.  “I can’t help it.”

Hattie leaned forward and patted her knee.  “Maybe if you
made me pancakes while I played with my new truck that would help you stop
crying.”

Deacon burst into loud laughter and Claire smacked him
lightly on the chest before kissing Hattie.  “I love you, Hattie.”

“I love you too, mama.”

* * *

“Watch, nana!”  Hattie said eagerly.  She held the remote
control and pressed the button.  The truck moved smoothly across the wood floor
and Rosa clapped her hands together as Tyson watched longingly.

“Hattie, why don’t you give Tyson a chance to drive it,”
Claire said.

“Okay,” Hattie agreed.  She handed the remote control to Tyson.
 “You have to go slowly, Ty.”

The little boy nodded and Rosa smiled at Claire before
holding out her hand.  “Come to the kitchen with me for a moment, sweet girl.”

Claire followed her into the kitchen, smiling at Deacon who
was standing with Hugo and Henry by the bar.  Brandon and Donna were sitting on
the couch with Brandon Junior and perhaps because it was Christmas, they had
been almost pleasant to her and Deacon. 

“Dinner was delicious, Rosa.  Thank you so much for having
us.”

“Of course, my darling.”  Rosa gave her a look of surprise
as she took two mugs out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.  “You and
Hattie are a part of our family now and you are always welcome in my home.”

“Thank you,” Claire replied. 

“My darling,” Rosa took her hands and squeezed them tightly,
“I just wanted to take this moment to tell you how very pleased I am for you
and Deacon.  I’ve never seen Deacon so happy, and it does this old heart of
mine good to see him with a wife and a child.  Your love for him is exactly what
my grandson needed.”

Guilt stabbed at Claire.  She had grown genuinely fond of
Deacon’s grandmother and lying to her was now just as horrible as lying to
Ellen.  She glanced at the floor as Rosa squeezed her hands again.  “Will you
and Deacon be having more children?”

“Oh, um…”

Rosa smiled.  “I’m sorry, I’m being very nosy.  I just see
what a wonderful mother you are to Hattie and I can’t help but hope that you
have more with Deacon.  He would be an amazing father.”

“Yes, he would,” Claire said softly.  

He really would be, she thought sadly.  Bitterness filled
her as she thought of the woman who would eventually replace her.  Deacon would
fall in love and have his own children, and she and Hattie would become a
distant memory. 

While you spend the rest of your life pining for a man
you could never truly have.

“Claire?  What’s wrong?”  Rosa asked.  “You’re very pale.”

“I’m fine, Rosa,” Claire said quietly. 

She wasn’t fine.  She had fallen in love with Deacon Stone
and she was a fool for it.

“Are you sure?  Do you need to sit down?”

“Claire?  Are you ready to go?”  Deacon stuck his head into
the kitchen.  “It’s really starting to snow out there and I want to get home
before the roads are too bad.”

“Yes.”  She hugged Rosa.  “Merry Christmas, Rosa.”

“Merry Christmas, my darling.  Now, we’ll see you both on
the first but if you want to bring Hattie by between now and then I would love
to have a little visit with her.  Maybe we can convince her to stay the night
so you and Deacon can have some alone time.”

“The first?”  Claire asked.

Rosa frowned at Deacon.  “You didn’t mention it to her?”

She snorted irritably.  “The Stone family always has brunch
on New Years’ Day.  It’s tradition.  This year we’ll be having it at
Renaldo’s.  It’s the most wonderful little Italian place and they’ll be – “

“Grandmother, I’m not sure that we’ll be able to make it
this year,” Deacon interrupted.

“What?  But you must.  It’s tradition, Deacon,” Rosa said.

“I know but, um, we might have something else to, uh…” He
trailed off and gave Claire a look of silent desperation.

“You have to be there,” Rosa said.  “It won’t be the same
without the three of you.”

Claire smiled at Rosa.  “Of course we’ll be there.  I’m
looking forward to it.”

“Wonderful,” Rosa replied.  She glanced at Deacon, “Really,
Deacon, missing our New Years’ brunch – what were you thinking?”

“Sorry, grandmother,” Deacon replied.  “We should get going,
Claire.”

Claire nodded and took his hand before smiling at Rosa. 
“I’ll bring Hattie by in a few days, alright?”

“I look forward to it,” Rosa said.  “Now do be careful
driving and text me when you’re home.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, Claire,” Deacon said as she closed Hattie’s
bedroom door.  “I should have told you about the brunch thing but I was trying
to think of an excuse for my grandmother without having to involve you.”

“It’s fine.  I don’t mind going,” Claire said.  “If you
don’t mind us staying an extra day.”

“You know I don’t,” he said moodily.

“It’ll probably be easier to move out on the second anyway,”
she said nervously.  “Instead of, you know, the holiday.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.  “Did you find an apartment?”

“I did,” she said.  “They couldn’t hold it for me without a
deposit but the building manager seemed pretty confident it would still be
available on the second.  I’ll give him the security deposit and first month’s
rent, and Hattie and I will move in on the fifteenth.”

“That’s good,” he said briefly.  “I’ve arranged to have the
money deposited into your bank account on the thirty-first.”

“Thank you,” she smiled tentatively at him as they walked
toward his bedroom.

She stopped in front of the guest room, rubbing her hands
nervously against her jeans.  She had told herself she would start putting some
distance between the two of them after Christmas and that meant no longer
sleeping in his bed.

“Deacon,” she began, “I probably should – “

“My bed and only my bed, Claire,” he said as anger darkened
his eyes to jade.  “Have you forgotten that already?”

“No,” she said weakly, “but maybe it would be better if – “

He pushed her up against the wall and took her mouth in a
hard, almost punishing, kiss.  “You’re my wife, Claire.  Will you deny me
what’s mine?”

She shuddered with pleasure when he pushed his hand between
her legs and rubbed her roughly through her jeans.

“Will you?”  He asked again.  His other hand threaded
through her long hair and forced her head back until she was looking at him.

“No,” she whispered.  “I won’t.”

It was madness to keep sleeping with him but she couldn’t
stand the thought of living under the same roof and not being in his bed.  She
would go insane if she tried.

“Good.”  He rubbed her again, a dark grin crossing his face
at the way she squirmed against his hand, before leading her into his bedroom.

“Mama, why doesn’t Deacon like me anymore?”

Claire lifted Hattie out of the tub and dried her with a
towel.  “He still likes you, honey.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Hattie said.  “He never spends time with
me anymore.”

Claire brushed Hattie’s wet hair and tried to smile at her
daughter.  It had been the worst week of her life.  Her vow to start putting
distance between Hattie and Deacon, as well as herself, had been easy to do. 
Mostly because Deacon had been completely avoiding them.  He had slipped back
into his old routine of leaving early and coming home late with an ease that
had broken her heart. 

He hadn’t joined them for dinner once this week nor did he
show up in time to tuck Hattie into bed.  He would slide into bed long after
Claire had fallen asleep and wake her with his warm mouth and hard hands. 

He was avoiding them neatly and easily but that avoidance
didn’t extend to the bedroom.  They were still fucking like bunnies every damn
night, but gone were the whispered conversations and slow caresses after sex. 
He would spoon her tightly against him as she lay in the darkness and listened
to his breathing.

Last night she had spent a miserable New Years’ Eve alone. 
Hattie had fallen asleep at ten and she had carried the little girl to her bed
before toasting the New Year alone with a glass of wine.  Deacon had crawled
into bed around one in the morning, smelling strongly of whiskey, and they’d
had a round of silent, almost angry, but extremely satisfying sex. 

Hattie was thrilled when Deacon had still been home this
morning and she had clung to him like a monkey, chatting happily away to him,
as Claire watched silently.  Deacon had looked stiff and uncomfortable with her
for the first time in days, and Claire thought Hattie had been too excited to
notice but obviously she was wrong.

“Honey,” she paused and kissed the top of Hattie’s head,
“Deacon is just really busy with work right now.”

“I miss him,” Hattie pouted.

“I know, baby.”  Claire hugged her again.  “I know.”

* * *

“Deacon, is everything alright?”

Deacon nodded and tried to skirt around his grandmother. 
She took his arm and led him back into the hallway near the bathrooms of the
restaurant. 

“Are you sure?  Things seem strained between you and Claire
today.”

“It’s not, grandmother.  We just had a late night.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie.  He had spent the evening at the
bar, drinking copious amount of whiskey and watching the others cheer loudly
when midnight struck.  He had called for a cab, unable to watch their drunken
revelry for a second longer, and gone home. 

He hadn’t intended to sleep with Claire.  In fact, he had
told himself that he wouldn’t join her in his bed at all.  He would sleep in
the guest room and stop tormenting himself.  In the end, he couldn’t do it and,
cursing himself for his weakness, crawled into bed beside her.  She was still
awake and when he had molded his body against hers, cupping her breast and
sliding one hand between her thighs, she had responded eagerly despite the
smell of whiskey permeating from him.

He missed both her and Hattie terribly.  It was killing him
not to go home and see them, to not know how Claire’s day was, to not play with
Hattie in the evenings and tuck her into bed. 

Get used to it
, he told himself grimly as his
grandmother studied him closely. 
You’ll never see them again after today
.

He realized his grandmother was still staring at him and he
tried to smile normally at her.  “Everything’s fine, grandmother.  I promise.”

Her look suggested she didn’t believe a word out of his
mouth but she simply nodded and pulled an envelope from her purse.  She handed
it to him and he stared blankly at it.

“I’ve signed my shares over to you, Deacon,” she said.  “I
didn’t want to give them to you in front of Brandon.   No use pouring salt into
the wound, is there?”

“No,” he said.  He continued to stare at the envelope in his
hand.  He should have been happy, this is what he had wanted more than
anything, but he couldn’t see past the depression of losing Claire and Hattie. 
He realized with a dark sort of humour that he didn’t give a shit about the
company anymore.  What did it matter when he would go home to a dark house
every night?  When he’d never feel Claire’s arms around him again or hear
Hattie’s sweet voice?

“Deacon?”  His grandmother pressed on his arm.  “Please tell
me what’s wrong, my darling.”

“I love her,” he said hoarsely.  “I love her so much.”

Rosa smiled at him.  “Of course you do.  And she loves you. 
Come, my darling, let’s join the others.  This is a wonderful day –the company
you’ve worked so hard for is yours and you have a woman who loves you.  Let’s
have a glass of wine and celebrate.”

* * *

Deacon studied Claire in the dim light of dawn.  After
brunch yesterday, he had gone home with them but retreated to his office.  He
had sat in his chair, staring at his closed laptop and listening to Hattie play
with her remote control truck in the hallway.  After a while, he heard Claire’s
soft voice convincing her to play outside with her for a while.  He didn’t make
an appearance at dinner and clenched his fists and paced jerkily back and forth
when he heard Claire taking Hattie upstairs at bedtime.  She had gone to bed
immediately after and he had waited only half an hour before joining her.  He
was nearly desperate to touch her, to make love to her and feel her soft skin
against his.  After their lovemaking, it had been slow and sweet and the best
orgasm of his life, she had pulled him into her embrace and stroked his thick
hair.  He had nearly told her he loved her but the thought of her reaction, the
look of pity that would cross her face when he tried to tell her he couldn’t
live without her or Hattie, had stopped him.

She didn’t want him in her life forever and she didn’t want
him as a father for Hattie.  He hadn’t done a thing to prove to her that he would
be a good husband or father.  Trying to convince her that he loved her and he
would spend the rest of his life trying to be the husband she deserved and the
father Hattie needed was pointless.

He took a deep breath and stroked the tips of his fingers
across Claire’s cheek.  She didn’t stir and, his throat burning, he stood and
left the bedroom without looking back.

He slipped into Hattie’s bedroom and sat on the side of the
bed.  The little girl was sleeping sideways, her head hanging off the side of
the bed and he scooped her up and held her in his arms.  He buried his face in
her dark hair and inhaled her sweet scent a final time before kissing her
cheek.

She snorted and blinked sleepily at him.  A small smile
crossed her face and she closed her eyes again and rested her small head on his
chest.  He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head before sliding her
into bed and tucking the covers around her.  He pressed his mouth to her ear
and whispered, “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, daddy,” she mumbled sleepily.

His stomach clenched and the room wavered as tears pricked
at his eyes.  He blinked them back savagely as Hattie buried her face into her
pillow and snored loudly.

“Goodbye, Hattie,” he whispered.

* * *

“Where are we going, mama?”  Hattie asked.

When Claire didn’t reply she kicked the back of her seat.

“Hattie, don’t!”  Claire said sharply. 

Hattie’s mouth quivered and Claire stared at her in the rear
view mirror.

“I’m sorry, honey.  Mama didn’t mean to snap at you.”

She rubbed at her swollen eyes.  She had woken to find Deacon
gone and she had cried bitterly for nearly half an hour before forcing herself
to get up and shower.  She had packed her clothes and then, while Hattie was
eating breakfast, had packed up her clothes and a few of her toys.  She would
hire someone to pick up the rest of their stuff once they were in their
apartment.  There was no way she could ever come back to this house.  It would
hurt too much.

She had sneaked the suitcases and box of toys into the trunk
of the car while Hattie was watching TV.  She would have to tell Hattie sooner
or later, they were going to be in a hotel room in less than half an hour, but
she was dreading it.  Like a fool, she had hung around the house until after
lunch, hoping against hope that Deacon would show up.

And say what, Claire?
  Her mind had snorted. 
That
he loves you and can’t live without you?  If that was true, he would have told
you by now.  He was perfectly clear that he was happy with how his life was and
didn’t want that to change.  Just because he was kind to you and Hattie doesn’t
mean he loves you.

Feeling like a coward, she smiled at Hattie.  “Honey, how
would you like to visit Ellen for a little while?  She has today off and I bet
she’d like some company.”

“Sure!”  Hattie said happily.  “She hasn’t seen my new truck
yet.”

Claire headed toward Ellen’s apartment.  It would be hell
trying to pretend like nothing was wrong in front of Ellen but going to the
hotel room and trying to explain to Hattie that she would never see Deacon
again was much, much worse.

* * *

“Hi, Ellen!”  Hattie said happily when Ellen opened the
door.  “Do you like my new truck?  Watch what it can do!”

She set it on the floor and steered it across the floor. 

“That’s nice, honey,” Ellen said.  She kissed Hattie’s head
and hugged Claire firmly. 

“Sorry to just drop by without calling,” Claire tried to
sound cheerful, “but I – “

“Of course I’ll watch her,” Ellen interrupted.  “You go and
don’t worry about a thing.  I can keep Hattie for as long as you need me to.”

“Ellen?  What are you talking about?  I just came by to
visit,” Claire said

“What?”  Ellen said.

“What – what?”  Claire was starting to feel like she was in
the Twilight Zone.

“You don’t know,” Ellen said slowly.

“Know what?  Ellen, what’s going on?”  Claire asked.

“Jude texted me half an hour ago.  He’s at the hospital with
Deacon and – “

Claire’s blood froze in her veins and she grabbed Ellen’s
arms.  “What’s wrong with Deacon?”

“Nothing,” Ellen said hurriedly.  “Deacon’s fine.  It’s his
grandmother.  Apparently she collapsed this morning and they think she’s had a
heart attack.  They don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

“Oh my God,” Claire whispered.

“Claire, how can you not know this?”  Ellen asked. 

“What hospital?”  Claire said frantically.  “What hospital
is Rosa at?”

“Mama?”  Hattie had joined them and she hugged Claire’s
leg.  “What’s wrong with nana?  Why is she at the hospital?  Is she sick?”

“Ellen, what hospital?”  Claire nearly shouted.

“St. Mary’s,” Ellen said.  “Claire, what’s going on?”

“I have to go,” Claire said.  “Can you watch Hattie?”

“Of course I can.”

“No!”  Hattie shouted.  “No, mama!  I have to go with you! 
I have to see nana, please!”

“Hattie, honey, I don’t – “

Hattie burst into tears and clung to Claire’s leg.  “Please,
mama.  Don’t leave me here.”

Claire picked her up and hugged her tightly.  “Alright,
honey.  We’ll go together.”

* * *

Deacon stared at the worn tile of the hospital floor.  It
was the colour of puke and he wondered distractedly if they had done that on
purpose.  Maybe it made cleaning easier if the vomit blended in with the floor
colour.  He could feel hysterical laughter bubbling in his chest and he tamped
it down grimly.  Jesus, he needed to get a hold of himself.  He reached for his
phone, tempted for about the hundredth time to text Claire and tell her what
happened.  He needed her badly, needed to feel her arms around him and her soft
voice telling him everything would be okay.

He dropped his phone back into his jacket pocket.  He
couldn’t call her.  She would be concerned, it was obvious that she genuinely
liked his grandmother, but she wouldn’t drop everything to be at his side.  Why
should she?  The job he had paid her to do was over.  She had moved on with her
life.

“She’ll be okay, buddy.”  Jude was sitting next to him and
he squeezed his shoulder.  “Rosa’s the toughest woman I know.”

Deacon nodded and continued to stare at the floor as Brandon
glanced at his watch.

“Christ, what’s taking so long?”  Brandon muttered. 
“Shouldn’t she be out of surgery by now?”

“It hasn’t been that long, Brandon.”  Donna rubbed his leg. 
“These types of surgeries can take hours.”

“Fuck.”  Brandon ran his hand through his hair before
closing his eyes.

“Where’s Claire?”  Donna suddenly asked.

Deacon ignored her and she leaned forward.  “Deacon, where’s
your goddamn wife?  She too busy spending your money to show up?”

“Stop it, Donna,” Brandon said wearily.  “Now’s not the
time.”

Donna shook her head.  “You know as well as I do that Claire
isn’t interested in anything but his money.  She helped him take the company
from you just so she wouldn’t have to clean another fucking toilet and – “

“Deacon!”

Deacon’s eyes widened at the sound of Hattie’s voice and he
stumbled to his feet.  He turned to see Hattie barreling toward him and he
knelt and scooped the little girl up.  She kissed his cheek and gave him a
grave look.  “Is Nana okay?”

“Hattie, how did you get here?”  He whispered hoarsely.

“Mama brought me.”  She pointed to her mother.  Claire was
smiling but pulling anxiously at the necklace around her throat.

“Claire?”  He whispered again.  Hattie squeaked in surprise
when he set her down abruptly and yanked Claire into his arms.  He kissed her
frantically and she threw her arms around his shoulders and held him tightly.