Single Dad's Christmas Miracle

“Thank my wife for that view. She found this land, created the design for this house.”

“She’s got a real eye for things.” She turned from the windows just as a boy of about twelve walked into the kitchen, the big black dog on his heels.

“Dad, did you get that ham I asked for?” When he saw Althea, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Yes, I got the ham.” He faced Althea. “Althea, that’s my son, Jack.” He turned to Jack. “Jack, this is Althea Johnson. As soon as I get these groceries put away I’m going to interview her to see if she can become your new teacher.”

Taking a bag of cans to the pantry, Clark continued putting away the groceries. Big black dog by his side, Jack stood where he’d stopped, sizing her up.

Usually she wasn’t afraid of a twelve-year-old boy, especially not one so handsome. Shaggy brown hair and big brown eyes like his dad’s gave him an angelic choir-boy appearance. But he also had an odd expression on his face. Almost as if he were strategizing how to get her fired—and she hadn’t even taken the job.

Clark came out of the pantry. “Okay, I’ll make sandwiches. Jack, you finish with the groceries and then I can interview—” He stopped, faced Althea again. “I’m sorry. You’d said you hadn’t eaten yet.”

“I haven’t.”

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll make cocoa for the kids and then coffee for us before I make the sandwiches. Jack and Teagan can eat out here. We’ll take our lunches into the den and we’ll talk while we eat.”

She wasn’t the kind of person who got cozy so quickly with strangers. But when she’d turned over the new leaf about her life a few months back, she’d promised herself she’d stop being so cautious. Plus she was extremely hungry. The thought of a cup of coffee and a sandwich made her taste buds dance for joy.

Clark walked to the counter, opened a rollaway door and pulled out a coffeemaker. Feeling odd with nothing to do, she said, “I could put on the pot of coffee if you show me how.”

On his way to the counter to get the groceries, Jack snorted a laugh. Clark faced her with a smile. “This is a single-serve coffeemaker. I can make two cups of cocoa for the kids and an individual cup of coffee for each of us.”

“Oh.” And didn’t she feel stupid?

While the first cup of cocoa brewed, Clark whipped around the kitchen, gathering bread and ham and retrieving milk for the coffee from the fridge, along with condiments for their sandwiches. Teagan crawled up on one of the stools beside the center island where Clark opened the deli meat and a loaf of bread. The dog clip-clopped over to her, soundlessly parking herself beside Teagan’s tall chair. Outside, the snow continued to fall. Big, beautiful white flakes on a huge, silent mountain.

Silent.

She glanced around. That’s what bothered her. It was as quiet in here as it was outside. Jack had put away the few things his father had directed him to, but he said nothing. Teagan sat on one of the tall chairs by the center island, just watching as Clark raced around, going between the coffeemaker and the refrigerator, gathering things for the sandwiches.

“Can I help with anything?”

“No. No. I’m fine. I’m accustomed to doing this.”

Doing what? Getting lunch? Having quiet kids? Being a one-person whirlwind of activity? Because it was Tuesday, Althea suspected his wife was at work. So maybe when she was around everything was noisier?

With the ham, bread and condiments on the center island, Clark motioned for her to come over. “Fix yourself a sandwich while I make Teagan’s cocoa.”

She walked over, put bread on a paper plate and noticed Teagan watching her, her dark brown eyes cautious, curious. “I can make your sandwich first.”

The little girl buried her face in the dirty pink bear she held. Though they’d been in the house ten minutes, she still wore her jacket with the hood on her head and her mittens on her hands.

Clark hustled over. She tugged on his shirtsleeve and he leaned down.

She whispered something in his ear.

He said, “Okay,” and went back to the coffee/cocoa maker. “We don’t have that flavor.”

Her lips turned down in an adorable pout, as she slid her hood off. Her hair was as dark as her eyes. The pale pink coat she wore accented both. As pretty as a princess, she blinked at Althea.

“I can help you with your coat, if you want.”

Teagan’s gaze whipped to her dad. He walked over with a cup of cocoa. “I’ll get her coat. You just finish making your sandwich.”

Teagan tugged on his shirtsleeve again. He leaned down. She whispered in his ear.

Baffled, Althea stopped slathering mayonnaise on her bread. Not only did the little girl think it normal to talk only to her dad and only in a whisper, but also Clark was so accustomed to it, he automatically leaned down to listen.

“Sure. We have marshmallows.”

She almost asked Clark about it. But she knew kids hated it when adults talked about them as if they weren’t in the room. Any minute now she and Clark would go into the den for her interview. She could ask him then. Delicately of course.

“Jack, do you want to make your sandwich now, too, so that I can put all this stuff back in the fridge before we go into the den?”

Jack walked over, grabbed some bread and ham and fixed his sandwich without a word.

Althea’s eyebrows rose. She’d taught middle school for six years. She knew twelve-year-olds. They were sassy, moody, and the boys were always hungry. They didn’t wait for an invitation to make a sandwich.

What was going on here?

Clark handed Teagan her sandwich then he brought over her cocoa, complete with marshmallows, and started the first cup of coffee. He made his sandwich and the second cup of coffee then he put away the bread, ham and condiments before he faced the kids.

“Althea and I will be in the den. If you need me, just come back and get me.”

Teagan blinked. Jack nodded.

She followed Clark down a long hall off the front foyer to the den. He motioned for her to take the empty chair in front of the desk then sat on the tall-back chair behind it.

“I think we should just get right to the point.”

She nodded, knowing what was coming. With a housekeeper in the hospital with pneumonia and a wife who obviously worked, this job had morphed into babysitter/teacher. She might even have to cook. Or clean up. It was not going to be the piece-of-cake, easy-money job she’d expected. Not that she was above helping out. Plus, truth be told, taking this position was about more than money. Spending four weeks close to her sister, but not really in Maryland was a stall tactic. She longed to see her sister. But she was afraid to see her dad. So finding employment close enough that Missy could drive up and visit her here in Pennsylvania might have been too good to be true.

That was usually how her life worked. Everything she thought was “perfect” ended up being a scam.

She smiled slightly. “Sure. Let’s just get right to the point.”

“My wife was killed in an automobile accident three years ago.”

Her mouth dropped a bit. That wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting. From the casual way he’d mentioned her when she complimented the view, she never would have guessed his wife had died. She’d even suspected the poor woman was at work.

“Jack did okay until this fall. Now suddenly he’s failing all his classes. He’s done so poorly that his former teacher quit. I need you to pack four months of learning into one month.”

“That’s quite a job.”

“He’s been over the material once already. Technically only the December material will be new.” He leaned back in his chair. “He’s not a stupid kid. In fact, he’s very bright. I’m sure he’s retained some of what he heard. This is more about getting him focused again and making him see that if he decides to slack off, there are consequences.”

“Are you sure this isn’t about him grieving for his mom?”