Tristan figured Timothy’s request would have something to do with McDonalds or wanting more pancakes, especially with him sending furtive glances to the stairs.
Instead, the boy said, “Lisa usually takes me to get Maman something for Christmas, but she’s not here now. Do you think you could take me?” Timothy dug his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small coin purse. He opened it and upended it, dumping coins out on the table. “I have money I’ve saved.”
Tristan stared at the money, feeling the impact of their meager total like a punch to his gut. He’d never known that level of poverty before, even as a child. At Christmas, his dad always gave them money to buy a gift for their mom, and in turn, their mom had given them money to buy a gift for their dad.
Once he was old enough to work, he’d had plenty of money to buy them gifts on his own. Seeing this young boy saving up coins he’d no doubt earned from lost teeth and maybe extra chores, was a harsh reminder to Tristan that he was beyond privileged, and he took that far too much for granted.
If nothing else, his interactions with Shayna and Timothy had shaken him out of the bubble he’d somehow ended up in. Not that he was unaware of the hardships of people in the world. However, being aware of them was different from having them right in his face.
Three years ago, they’d faced the reality of having his brother kidnapped in the Middle East. While that had ultimately ended in a positive way with his brother’s release, the experience had opened their family up to a reality they never would have thought they’d have to face. Then they’d had Dalton up and leave, and as a result they were dealing with the fear and uncertainty of having a young loved one out of touch with them.
But the situation with Shayna and Timothy had definitely been a wake-up call for him. His personality and skills lent themselves to a reclusive lifestyle. He could spend his time designing at his job—often with earbuds in place to block out distractions—and then go home to play around on his games. Usually he spent enough time with family at work and at the Sunday dinners that they were willing to let him just live his life mostly alone.
They knew of his propensity to focus to the exclusion of other things in life. As long as his mom saw him once a week and spoke or texted with him a couple of times between family dinners, she didn’t force him from his bubble. When he was present with the family, he was present, focusing on their time together.
Tristan felt a bit scattered at the moment, trying to figure out exactly where his focus needed to be. It seemed that Shayna needed help with several things, and Timothy needed someone to care for him while his mother recovered.
Tristan wanted to grab a notebook or his phone to jot down everything he felt needed attention so that he could figure out where to direct his focus. The boy was still looking at him expectantly, so Tristan made the decision that his immediate focus would be on Timothy. And his coins.
“Yes. When we go out to pick up your mom’s groceries, we can stop at the store for you to pick something up.”
The boy’s face lit up, and he scooped the coins back into the small purse. “She doesn’t give me a list or anything, but I know what she likes.”
“Why don’t you go check on your mom?” Tristan suggested, wondering where he should be taking Timothy to buy a present for Shayna given the amount of money the boy had to spend. “See if she needs anything if she’s awake.”
Tristan watched as Timothy headed up the stairs again then he got to his feet, taking the opportunity to look around. Having already spent time in the kitchen and dining room area, he wandered to the living room that overlooked the road where his car was parked.
The small Christmas tree he’d spotted stood in front of the window, unlit and with its branches drooping slightly. It was the only Christmas related item in the room. In all the house that he’d seen so far, actually.
As his gaze roamed the room, it landed on a series of framed wedding pictures on the wall. Curiosity drew him toward them. He came to a stop when he could see them clearly. The first thing he noticed was the joy and happiness on Shayna’s face as she looked at the tall man who stood next to her.
Tristan had seen pictures of Lorne Caron in the news following his death, but this man looked more alive than in those pictures. Tall and strong with dark hair and eyes, Tristan could see the love he had for Shayna. Love that had resulted in Timothy. Seeing Shayna and Lorne together in the picture, it was clear that Timothy was a perfect blend of his parents.
Uncertain what was causing the tightness in his chest, Tristan turned from those pictures, only to find another set on a small end table. These ones were of the three of them with Lorne cradling the son he’d never get to see grow up. The joy from the wedding photos had increased in the pictures of them together. A small family of three.
That was meant to have been four, he recalled. No wonder the only joy he ever saw on Shayna’s face came when she looked at her son. She’d suffered so much loss in her life. Loss that he couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“That’s my dad.” Tristan turned to find Timothy standing beside him, his gaze on the collection of pictures of him with his parents. “He’s dead.”
The words were so baldly spoken that they rendered Tristan speechless. Quickly doing the math in his head, he figured that Timothy had been five when his dad had been killed. Did he have any clear memories of him?
Tristan rested a hand on Timothy’s shoulder. “Yes. I know.” He guided the boy to sit on the couch then said, “What did you and your dad like doing together?”
Timothy’s gaze went to the pictures, and his brow furrowed before looking back at Tristan. “I don’t really remember. Sometimes we went to the park, but I wasn’t very good at throwing the ball or Frisbee.”
As he listened to Timothy talk, Tristan again felt that connection with the boy. Though he’d never doubted that his dad loved him, there were plenty of times Tristan had felt like he hadn’t understood him. Steve Callaghan had been a man who worked with his hands and had enjoyed playing sports. While Tristan enjoyed watching sports, playing them wasn’t his thing. Neither was working with his hands.
Though he’d put in time on job sites in order to earn money as a teen, it had never been something he’d done well the way Mitch and Bennett had. Gabe and Kenton had both been good at sports, though Kenton had been the only one to pursue it professionally. Tristan, Ryan, and Dalton had been the outliers when it came to the Callaghan and McFadden boys, since Ryan too had avoided the family business. He had followed his birth father’s footsteps and gone into the military.
He hoped Timothy realized that his father loved him even though they apparently hadn’t had much in common. Having only a few short years together, it was possible that they hadn’t had the opportunity to find common ground that might have allowed them to build a strong relationship.
Tristan’s common ground with his dad had come in the form of the company, but it had taken until his late teens to reach that point. It had happened when he’d expressed an interest in architecture, and his dad had been able to see how that might fit in the family business. Tristan loved his job and loved knowing that he was contributing to the company his family had built.
Before he could assure Timothy of his father’s love, the boy said, “Maman was awake. She said she’d be down in a few minutes.”
Tristan got to his feet and took Timothy back to the kitchen. “Should we make some lunch?”
Timothy shrugged. “More pancakes?”
Tristan grinned at the boy’s response. “Well, let’s wait and see if your mom’s in the mood for more pancakes.”
Shayna sat up, wincing at the ache in her body. She needed to get used to it because she had no choice but to be back at work on Monday. She had no sick time, so any time she took off would be without pay. Sick pay had been included in her checks, but she hadn’t been able to afford to set that money aside. And given that she would need to lay out money on a new car now as well as a new place to live, she had to go to work.
After using the bathroom, she headed downstairs to see what Timothy and Tristan had been up to. Shayna knew she should eat something, but she had no appetite. Worry and pain had taken care of that.
When she found Timothy and Tristan, they were debating the merits of eating pancakes for three meals a day. It briefly eased the worry to hear the two of them laughing and talking together.
Tristan looked up as Shayna shuffled into the kitchen. She saw the concern on his face as he got to his feet. He waited for her to slide into the seat beside Timothy before sitting back down.
“How bad is the pain?” Tristan asked.
Shayna stared at him for a moment. She had planned to tell him she was fine when he asked how she was, but he wasn’t even going to let her pretend.
“I took some ibuprofen, and it helped a little.” She gave Timothy a reassuring smile, not wanting him to worry about her. “I’m just grateful it wasn’t worse. A broken bone would have made life a lot more difficult than a few bruises.”
As if realizing she didn’t want to discuss her condition in front of her son, Tristan nodded then asked. “What would you like for lunch? Timothy has already cast his vote for pancakes.”
Though she wanted to say she wasn’t hungry, she knew that wouldn’t wash with Timothy. The thing with having an extra smart child was that she couldn’t get much past him. In addition to being smart, he was also observant.
“I think I could eat a pancake as well,” Shayna said.
“I’ll get it for you, Maman.” Timothy shot to his feet. “Did you want tea too?”
“How about I get that?” Tristan suggested as he left the table.
Shayna watched as Timothy showed Tristan where the electric kettle was, which mug was her favorite, and where she kept her tea. Timothy got three plates out of the cupboard then pulled a container with pancakes out of the fridge. Danica and Sierra must have put them there before they left earlier.
Timothy put one on each plate then stuck the first one in the microwave. Soon, he set the plate in front of her with the bottle of syrup. It was nearly empty, and probably only contained enough for the pancakes they were about to eat. Unfortunately, she hadn’t added syrup to her grocery order for the week.
She tended to only order things that they absolutely needed. It was why she’d begun to place a grocery order for pick-up each week. It helped her control what she spent since she wasn’t tempted to add things to her cart as they walked the aisles at the grocery store. It was a lot easier to do the shopping on her phone than it was to have to say no to Timothy when he wanted something he saw at the store.
Shayna poured a little bit of syrup on her pancake and smoothed it around. Tristan set the cup of tea down after asking if she took any cream or sugar with it. She noticed that he had accepted a pancake as well though she was sure that he had never eaten pancakes for two meals in a row since reaching adulthood.
“Once we’re done with lunch, we’ll head out to pick up your groceries,” Tristan said after Timothy had said grace. He cut up his pancake, then added a bit of syrup before taking a bite. “Are there other errands you need done?”
Shayna shook her head. Some Saturdays, the two of them would go to the mall and walk around. She’d splurge on a treat of donuts or an ice cream that they would share. But ever since the mall had been decorated for Christmas, she’d had no desire to spend time there. It was just a reminder of the materialistic side of the holiday, the part she wasn’t able to participate in very much most years.
If only Timothy were younger—not in school—then he wouldn’t know what he was missing. But instead, he heard about all the things his classmates were getting for Christmas. All the things that Santa would be bringing them if they’d been good. Timothy had been good—the best—and yet, his behavior would never bring Santa anywhere near their door with expensive presents.
Not that Shayna had ever promoted Santa to Timothy. Though her dad and step-mom had made a big deal out of Santa for her half-siblings, it had never been something that had benefitted her. Later, through Lorne, she’d come to understand the real reason for Christmas—the celebration of the birth of Jesus.
Since that time, she’d chosen to focus on that, but even so, gifts were a part of Christmas. A part that she couldn’t afford to indulge in the way she wished that she could for Timothy. He was such a good kid—never complaining about not having the latest toys and gadgets like the other kids at school had.
If only Lorne hadn’t gone that night… If only he’d come with her and Timothy to the end of the year school program like he’d said he would, maybe Christmas wouldn’t be such a challenging time of year. Shayna knew Lorne had felt compelled to go when one of his boys—that’s what he’d called the young men he tried to reach on the street—had called to say there were rumblings of a fight between a couple of gangs. He’d gone with her blessing—even if it had been reluctantly given.
“I’m ready to go,” Timothy announced after he finished his second pancake.
Shayna had managed to finish off the one he’d given her, and she noticed that Tristan had only eaten one as well.
“Let’s clean up first,” Tristan said, reaching for the plates and stacking them together. “Then we’ll head out.”
When Shayna stood and carried the cups from the table, she waited for Tristan to tell her to sit back down, but instead, he just took the dishes from her and put them in the dishwasher along with the plates. When they’d cleaned up, Timothy scampered up the stairs to change into warmer clothes.
“How do I go about getting your order?” Tristan asked.
Shayna explained the procedure then said, “They have my card on file, so you just need to give them my name when you call the number.”
“Is there anything you need that isn’t part of the order?”
She shook her head, not wanting him to have to go to any more trouble than he already had for her and Timothy. “If it would be easier, Timothy could stay here with me.”
Tristan’s brows drew together over his piercing blue gaze. “Would you prefer to keep him here with you in case you need help?”
“No. I just wanted you to know you didn’t have to take him. I think he’d be quite disappointed if I tried to keep him here with me,” Shayna said, giving Tristan a small smile. “As long as you don’t mind taking him with you.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
They heard the thumping of Timothy’s feet as he hurried down the stairs. He appeared in the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, an outfit he already knew that Shayna would approve of.
“I’m ready,” he announced. “Can we go now?”
“Yep,” Tristan said.
Timothy came over to where Shayna sat and gave her a kiss and a tight hug. “We’ll be back soon, Maman.”
Shayna hugged him close and said, “Be good and do what Tristan says, okay?”
“I will!”
She watched as he headed for the stairs. Tristan smiled then followed after him, leaving her alone in the townhouse. The silence left in the wake of their departure was weighty, but she had neither the energy nor the inclination to break it. Usually when it was just the two of them in the house these days, she would play Christmas music. When it was just her after Timothy had gone to sleep, she’d sometimes let that music play on or, depending on her mood, she’d change it to worship or classical music.
But right then, no music appealed to her. Nothing seemed capable of calming the worry and pain she felt.
Her shoulders slumped as she bowed her head. The movement brought pain, making Shayna groan as it swept over her. Tears spilled unchecked down her cheeks, and with no one there to hear her, she didn’t swallow back the sobs that rose from within her.
Shayna allowed herself a moment of weakness, knowing that Timothy was taken care of. The responsibility for him momentarily rested on the shoulders of another. The remainder of her responsibilities, however, still weighed heavily on her. The need to find a new place to live. The need to deal with the accident and all that entailed. The need to provide Timothy with a Christmas that would bring him joy. The need for someone to care for Timothy over the Christmas holidays while she was at work.
For a moment, she felt grief crush her as it had in the days following Lorne’s death. The hole his absence had left in her life had been temporarily filled by Lisa’s presence and her help, but now, she was alone once again. Oh, Tristan was helping her right then, but she and Timothy weren’t his responsibility. She could see in his expression at times that he wasn’t quite sure what to do about them.
When her tears had finally stopped, Shayna straightened, pulling the edges of her sleeves over her hands and using them to wipe the dampness from her cheeks. She had no idea how long it would take Timothy and Tristan to pick up the groceries, but it might not take too long, and she had no intention of letting them find her in the midst of an emotional breakdown.
She went to the fridge and opened it to make room for the things Tristan was picking up. Though she hated to waste food, there were a few things that were well past their prime, so she had to toss them out.
Once that was done, she went back upstairs and decided to take another shower, hoping it would make her feel more…herself. She didn’t waste the energy trying to wash her hair again, just pinned it up before climbing beneath the water. Lifting her face to the warm spray, she allowed it to wash away any remaining remnants of her tears.
Though she would have liked to soak in the bath, that would have to come later. Maybe after Timothy went to bed that night.
She didn’t linger long since she wanted to make sure she was done before the other two came back. Once done, she got dressed, choosing a pair of leggings, a large sweatshirt of Lorne’s, and a pair of thick socks. It was comfort at its finest for her.
Knowing that Timothy would come to find her as soon as they returned, Shayna curled up on her bed with the tablet. What had happened the previous day with the restaurant left her feeling insecure in her position there. If she couldn’t work the hours they wanted from her, how long would it be before they let her go? Maybe it was time to find a new job.
But doing what? With only the equivalence of a high school diploma, what kind of job could she get but one that was similar to what she already had?
She used the tablet to look up available jobs. It wouldn’t hurt to at least look and see what was available. Though a new job hadn’t been on her list of things she needed to take care of, it was suddenly the one she was focused on.