A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

“I’m not the one who needs to hear that,” Abby protested.

“Well, of course you aren’t,” Megan said impatiently. “If I could get your father on the phone for two minutes, I’d tell him that myself. Since I can’t, you’ll just have to be the messenger.”

“Mom, I really don’t want to get caught in the middle,” Abby said, a pleading note in her voice.

“Oh, fiddlesticks. You’ve planted yourself in the middle for quite some time now. You should be used to the role.”

Abby sighed. “I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you. It’s my feelings for your father I’m starting to question. Give the girls huge hugs for me, okay?”

“Will do,” Abby promised.

Megan let her go, then hung up, even more frustrated than she’d been when she made the call. She looked up and found her boss regarding her worriedly.

“Megan, are you absolutely certain that moving back to Chesapeake Shores and marrying Mick is what you want?” Phillip Margolin asked. “If Mick is already shutting you out, it seems to me that’s not a good sign.”

She met his concerned gaze. “Right this second, I’m not sure about anything,” she admitted.

“Then stay,” he urged. “You know you’re valued here. You’ve made a wonderful life for yourself in New York.”

“I have,” she conceded. “But my family’s there. I don’t want to live the rest of my life apart from them.”

“Even though Mick is clearly exasperating you?”

She smiled. Only a lifelong confirmed bachelor could ask a question like that. “That’s what he does, but I can’t seem to make myself stop loving him just the same.”

From the moment she’d told Phillip of her plans, he’d tried to be supportive, but it was plain he wasn’t above using this to keep her right where she was. Letting her go was going to disrupt the smooth running of his gallery. Still, his tone resigned, he asked, “Do you want to go down there now and find out for yourself what’s going on?”

She considered the offer, then shook her head. “We have the opening next week. Whatever’s going on in Chesapeake Shores can wait until I go there for Thanksgiving.”

“Are you certain? Will you be able to focus if you’re worrying about your family?”

“I’ve always worried about my family,” she reminded him. “And I’ve never lost focus yet.”

That didn’t mean the next two weeks wouldn’t be a struggle, but perhaps it was just as well not to be anywhere near Mick when he seemed intent on infuriating her.

Mick sat at a table in the coffee area of Shanna’s bookstore, relieved to be around family who apparently had no idea about what was going on or about the secret he was keeping from Megan. He’d found a new mystery by his favorite author, poured himself a steaming cup of coffee and was contentedly reading when Davy and Henry suddenly appeared. Davy immediately climbed into his lap, while Henry stood shyly by. Mick brightened at the sight of them.

“Well, now, where did the two of you come from?” he asked as Davy dug in Mick’s pocket and retrieved two wrapped candies, then handed one to Henry.

“We were looking at the store windows with Aunt Abby, Carrie and Caitlyn,” Henry said.

“I saw Santa,” Davy announced excitedly. “He was at Ethel’s. He promised he’s going to bring lots and lots of presents for Henry and me.”

“Is that so?” Mick said. “Have you sent him a list?”

Davy shook his head. “I told him what I want.”

“Well, it never hurts for Santa to have it in writing,” Mick said. He noticed that Henry looked skeptical and gathered that he’d already stopped believing. Still, he clearly didn’t intend to ruin it for his younger brother.

“Maybe Mommy will help me make one,” Davy said, a worried frown puckering his brow. “Henry can write his own. He knows how.”

“I know. He’s a very smart young man,” Mick said, giving the older boy a wink. “Why wait, though? If you ask your mother for a piece of paper, maybe I can help you now.”

Davy’s eyes immediately brightened. “Really?”

“Sure. I’ve written many a letter to Santa over the years.”

After Davy had run off, Mick beckoned for Henry to come closer. “Are you so sure Santa doesn’t exist?”

“I knew better when I was seven,” he said sadly. “I told him all I wanted was for my daddy to get better, but he hasn’t. He’s still sick. He can’t take care of me anymore.”

Henry’s biological father was an alcoholic whose liver had been severely damaged by the disease. That’s why Shanna, who’d only briefly been his stepmother, had been given custody after negotiating the arrangement with Henry’s father and grandparents. Now Kevin had legally adopted him, as well. At the same time Shanna had formally adopted Davy, whose biological mom had died while serving in Iraq. They were the ultimate modern family, pieced together by love.

“But your dad still loves you very much,” Mick assured Henry. “That’s why he’s agreed to let you be with Shanna and Kevin, so you’ll have the kind of life you deserve. Maybe that’s the gift that Santa meant for you—the gift of a new family, plus your old one. You’re very lucky to have so many people who love you.”

Henry pondered that in the serious little way he had, then nodded. “I suppose.”

“So maybe Santa would bring you something special this Christmas if he knew you still believed in him. Why not get a piece of paper and take a chance?” Mick coaxed.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Henry said, his eyes suddenly brimming with hope.

“Go then and bring your paper back here. I’ll see that Santa gets your letter and Davy’s.”

“Thanks, Grandpa Mick.”

As he scampered off, Abby settled into the chair opposite him.

“So much for finding a refuge in here,” he muttered with a resigned sigh.

“I have a message from Mom,” she said.

Mick’s stomach knotted with dread. “Oh?”

“She says if she doesn’t hear from you very, very soon, the wedding’s off.”

“Now, what kind of message is that to be sending through you?” Mick blustered.

“The kind sent by a frustrated woman who’s losing patience,” Abby assessed. “Now that I’ve delivered it, I’m taking the girls next door for lunch. You’re welcome to join us.”

“I have letters to Santa to oversee,” he said. “And then I’ve a phone call to make.”

She patted his hand. “Good decision.”

Mick wondered about that, because right this second he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to Megan that wouldn’t wind up with her not just postponing their wedding, but canceling it.

Mick had tucked the boys’ letters to Santa into his pocket and sent them off for naps when Kevin appeared. Apparently he was taking over for his wife while she dealt with settling the boys upstairs in the apartment where she’d lived before marrying Kevin. She’d kept it so the kids could be cared for close by while she worked in the store.