“MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY...” Maddie’s whisper was more of an excited squeal. Bouncing up and down, she yanked on Rosalind’s sweater. “He’s here!”
“What?” Rosalind turned her attention from the email Richard just sent her. “Who’s here?”
“Santa! He’s downstairs. Do you think he’s here to check on me? I said he didn’t have to bring me anything because you came home.”
“Slow down and catch your breath before you turn blue. What’s this about Santa Claus?” She swore the little girl was getting more wound up by the day. The abundance of Christmas cookies and the arrival of a fifteen-foot-tall tree in the living room didn’t help. At this point, the girl would pop a spring by Christmas Eve.
“He’s downstairs,” Maddie insisted. “I saw him talking to Daddy.”
She sighed. Probably someone Thomas hired to spread Christmas cheer. Since their argument the other day, she swore he was proving some kind of point by being home every day. Of course, being Thomas, he couldn’t simply be in the apartment. He had to fill the apartment with his presence. His laugh would insist on drifting down the corridor. The air pulsated with his proximity. The other day she swore she could smell his scent on every piece of furniture, including her bedsheets.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d had to spend last night by the fireplace listening to him reading Christmas stories to Maddie. He was marvelous with her. It was obvious the two of them had developed a special bond during her absence. Watching him with her last night, his voice gentle and sweet, her heart had skipped more than a few beats. And now, he’d arranged for Santa.
This was all well and good, but as Richard’s conversation reminded her, once he’d proved his point and won her over, Thomas would revert right back to form. Don’t you deserve someone who understands what you need? he’d asked.
All right, that particular line was a bit presumptuous.
“Mummy. Come on. Before he leaves.” Maddie grabbed her hand and started pulling her toward the library door. “I think he’s here on a special mission because he’s not in his suit, but I recognized him anyway.”
“Slow down. What do you mean he’s not in his—Chris!” She called the man’s name from over the banister.
He and Thomas stood with their backs to the stairway admiring the Christmas tree. Even so, she’d recognize him anywhere. At the sound of his name, he turned around, his bearded cheeks splitting into a giant smile. “Merry Christmas, Lammie!” He stretched out his arms. Rosalind hurried down the stairs and into the waiting hug. He smelled of peppermint and Scotch pine.
“It’s so good to see you,” she murmured against his chest.
“It’s good to see you too. I was just telling your husband that I had business in the city, so I thought I’d come by and see what my favorite waitress was up to.”
She drew back in his arms. “Why didn’t you say something when we talked the other night?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well, you succeeded.” As she hugged him a second time, she glanced past him to Thomas who was watching them with a wistful expression.
“Mummy, you know him?” Maddie was looking up at Chris with giant eyes.
“She thinks you’re Santa Claus,” Rosalind whispered.
“Is that so?” Immediately Chris knelt down, his eyes twinkling merrily. “How are you today, Miss Madeline?”
Upon hearing him say her name, Maddie’s eyes grew even larger, if such a thing was possible. Rosalind had to stifle a giggle.
“First time I’ve seen her speechless,” Thomas remarked.
“Your mum and dad tell me you’ve been a very good girl this year. Is that true?”
Maddie nodded. “No matter what Jaime Kensington says,” she added.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Chris said with a chuckle. “I came by to see your mummy and make sure she’s being good, as well. Is she?”
“Uh-huh. Daddy too. Last night he read me a story about a mouse who saved Christmas, and we had Christmas cookies.”
So much for speechless.
“Cookies, you say.” He gave a chuckle. “I don’t suppose you have any more, do you? I’ve always had a fondness for Christmas cookies.”
“We have tons. I’ll get you a whole plate.”
“I’ll go with her,” Thomas volunteered. “I asked the housekeeper to make tea.”
“A lovely girl, Lammie,” Chris said once they were out of earshot. “Sounds like she’s got a bit of a brain in her head too.”
“More than a bit,” she said. “There are times when I can’t believe I could have forgotten...” Damn. She thought she’d pushed past the guilt, but a lump found its way to her throat anyway. “Sorry.”
“No need. You’ve been through a lot. Emotions are bound to creep up on you now and again.”
“You can say that again,” she replied with a sniff. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I’m babbling is all.” The last thing she wanted was to spoil his visit by causing him to worry.
“Now, don’t go telling me it’s nothing.” Chris arched a bushy brow. “I’m Santa, remember? I can tell when someone’s not telling me the whole story.”
“I thought your powers were limited to judging naughty and nice.”
“I have all sorts of powers,” he told her. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me how you’re really doing?”
As briefly as she could, since the others were due back, she told him about the separation. “Turns out we weren’t the happy family Thomas claimed we were.”
“He certainly seemed happy to see you in the restaurant,” Chris said. “Overjoyed.”
“Sure, because he’d thought I was dead. But that doesn’t erase the problems we were apparently having. According to Richard—”
“Who?”
“A colleague of mine from the university. He’s been helping me fill in some of the blanks. What’s wrong?”
He was frowning. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Far be it from me to tell you how to handle your situation, but I have to say I’m surprised you’re not asking Thomas to fill in these blanks.”
“Thomas has filled in some, as well,” she replied, a little more defensively than she would have liked. She didn’t want to tell him that with Thomas, every trip down memory lane left her topsy-turvy with emotions.
The sound of footsteps and chatter stopped them from saying any more. A second later, Maddie skipped into the room, a piece of paper clutched in one hand and a cookie in the other. Thomas trailed behind her carrying the tea set.
“We picked out three kinds of cookies,” Maddie announced. “The ones with the jam are my favorite.”
“They look delicious,” Chris replied. “Jessica sent some of her famous shortbread for me to give you, but...” He patted his belly. “It was a long flight.”
“We’ll tell her they were delicious regardless, won’t we, Rosie? Although I think she’ll learn your secret when your trousers are suddenly too tight.” Thomas winked in her direction as he reached for a biscuit. Rosalind cursed her stomach for fluttering.
“I’m afraid Jessica’s been onto my secret for years,” Chris said. “I gain weight every December.”
No wonder, Rosalind thought as she eyed the stack on his plate. She poured the adults their tea and added a small amount of milk to a teacup for Maddie.
As she was handing Chris his cup—in between cookies—he remarked, “The whole town is buzzing about the soap factory’s expansion. Your investment is going to do quite a lot for the community.”
Thomas was investing in McDermott’s soap factory?
“That was the emergency meeting we had the other day,” Thomas replied. “Although to be fair, the bank is putting up the funds for the expansion. Collier’s simply subcontracted them to do business with us. I’ve got to admit I was very impressed with their capabilities. With luck, this expansion will be a good decision for both of us.”
“I know Ryan McDermott’s eager to prove your confidence right.”
“I’m eager for him to prove it, as well. I’d hate to be the Collier who killed the company.” He laughed as he made the comment, but Rosalind noticed his smile wavered at the edges.
“Two centuries is a long time for a company to survive, that’s for sure.” Chris clicked his tongue. “Here I thought my one little restaurant was a handful. I can’t imagine keeping a company afloat for that long. Soap must run in your veins.”
This time, Thomas’s laugh was fuller and less tremulous. “Wouldn’t surprise me. I wasn’t much older than Maddie when I made my first scented soap.”
“Really?” Rosalind was surprised.
Chris took another cookie from his stack. “Pretty young age to be working in a laboratory.”
“Oh, no, we weren’t in the lab, although my brother Linus probably would have loved if we were. This was the company museum.”
“Collier’s has a museum?” Rosalind wondered what else about the company she didn’t remember.
“A small one. On the first floor of the corporate building. It’s mostly articles and newsreels about Collier’s contribution through history. Our role in the war efforts and things like that. But there are a couple of hands-on displays, as well. It’s very popular with school field trips. My grandfather brought us there to introduce us to the Collier heritage.
“Anyway,” he continued, “they had this corner where you could combine different oils and make your own soap scent. To this day, I’m shocked pine-lemon-musk never made it to market.”
“Quite a combination,” Chris noted.
“The word is pungent,” Thomas replied, causing the older man to chuckle. “Grandfather said it made his eyes water. After that, it was decided I should stick to the marketing and management side of the business.”
Decided? Rosalind frowned at the odd word. “But you were Maddie’s age.”
“There was never any question we would work for Collier’s. When your family’s been running a business for a couple centuries, it’s more or less a given,” he added.
Except that he didn’t go to work for Collier’s. They’d moved to Cumbria.
“My grandfather used to give this speech about how the company’s history was intertwined with England’s. A little over the top, but it got the point across.”
“That you should be proud of your heritage,” Chris said.
“Precisely.” Thomas paused while he chewed the last of a cookie. “I don’t think I truly appreciated what he was talking about until I had to walk in his shoes.
“Having half a dozen generations stare at you on the way to your office every morning will do that,” he added with a smile.
Chris nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Must be a lot of pressure trying to live up to all those expectations,” he said.
“It is, but there’s something very satisfying about knowing you’re keeping tradition alive. Or trying to.”
There was no mistaking the pride in his voice or the passion. Rosalind could see both in the way his eyes brightened, as well. And tension. Like before, there was an undercurrent to his reference to the future. The stress of expectations Chris just mentioned? She shifted in her seat. This entire conversation was leaving her with an uneasy feeling. She was ashamed to say she hadn’t realized how deep Thomas’s ties to the company ran. Or maybe she did realize prior to the accident, but the discomfort nagging her felt as though she hadn’t truly appreciated it.
“Makes me sorry I didn’t remember that story,” she said out loud.
“You wouldn’t have,” Thomas replied. “I never told you.”
Really? Why not? She tried not to frown in front of their guest.
“Can I make soap smell too, Daddy?”
“You want to make soap?” Grabbing Maddie by the waist, Thomas scooped her on to his lap. “Tell you what. When you’re a little bit older, I’ll take you to the museum and you can make smelly soap.”
“How much older?” Maddie asked.
“Seven. Same age as I was when I went. If it’s all right with your mother,” he said.
Rosalind resisted the urge to squirm under all three sets of eyes. Why did she suddenly feel like the bad guy? “Two years is a long way off. Shouldn’t we be focused on something that’s happening sooner, like Christmas?”
With that, the conversation shifted to the festive season and the Christmas present Chris planned to buy for Jessica while he was in London.
Still, despite the change in topic, Rosalind couldn’t shake the disquiet left by Thomas’s story. Silly that a childhood memory would unsettle her. Her automatic instinct was to chalk it up to jealousy since her current mental state left her childhood slate blank. But it was more than jealousy. It was that Thomas revealed a piece of himself that she hadn’t known.
“Oh, my, will you look at how late it’s getting?” Chris exclaimed. Two hours had disappeared along with the tea and two servings of cookies. “If I’m going to get those gourmet salts for Jessica, I’d better hurry. It was good to see you again, Thomas.”
“It was good to see you again, Chris.”
The two men rose and shook hands before Chris bent down to look Maddie in the eye. “And you, Miss Madeline. It’s safe to say you’ve been a very good girl. I have no doubt your friend Bigsby will get that companion he’s been wanting.”
Maddie beamed. “This is for you,” she said.
It was the piece of paper she’d been holding when she came from the kitchen. “I made it while Daddy was making tea. He helped me with the spelling.”
Curious, Rosalind peered over and saw the words “Thank you” scrawled in messy red letters.
“For letting Mummy come home for Christmas early and letting her stay.”
Rosalind’s heart squeezed as she looked from the note to her daughter to Chris. The older man’s eyes glistened with the same emotion. “You’re most welcome, Miss Madeline,” he told her. “It was my pleasure.”
“How about me?” Rosalind asked. She was struggling to keep the moment light. This goodbye seemed harder than the last one. “Am I on the good list?”
“Absolutely.” He crushed her with his embrace, allowing her a farewell whiff of peppermint and pine. “You’ve got a second chance with your family this Christmas,” he whispered before kissing her cheek. “You can’t get better than that.”