Chapter Fourteen

Jordan

Another disaster.

I stare at the burnt lemon puddings in their ramekins and frown.

Since last night, I've been trying to bake so I can forget about Lance, but each piece of equipment I hold just reminds me of him. And then my mind gets all muddled. Or my body just loses coordination. It's one disaster after another.

I grit my teeth and run my hands through my hair in frustration.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Oh, I know. Lance. I don't know what upsets me more - the fact that I gave in to him just out of curiosity or some physical need, or the fact that he'd already moved on to another woman just hours later. And someone younger, at that.

At the memory of that woman with the fiery hair and the perfect makeup, I sink into a chair. I remember the glimpse I caught of her in the passenger seat of Lance's car as they drove away - a drive Lance still hasn't come back from - and my spirits sink further.

Did Lance already leave town? Is he never coming back?

I shake my head.

It doesn't matter. The fact is that Lance already got what he wanted from me and now he's moved on to his next prey. I should have known. Wasn't there something in that interview I read about him having no shortage of women to play with? That's all I am to him - a plaything. And now that I've amused him, he's thrown me away.

I let my face fall on the table.

I know. I know. I wanted him to leave me alone. But not like this.

I beat my head against the table.

I'm a fool. Such a fool.

Across me, Claus starts to do the same. He buries his face into the disastrous pie I made, the one I've been letting him decorate just to keep him occupied. Pieces of the undercooked pastry begin to splatter.

"Claus." I stand up. "Stop that."

He grins through his pastry mask. "But you were doing it."

"I wasn't shoving my face into a pie, was I?" I move what's left of the pie away from him and grab his arm. "Let's get you washed up."

I bring him to the bathroom to wash the pie off his face. I haven't finished when the doorbell rings.

My heart skips. Could that be Lance? Has he come back after all? Is he here to apologize.

Then I frown. I don't care if he apologizes. I'm done with him.

The doorbell keeps ringing. I roll my eyes.

"Keep washing," I tell Claus before running to the door.

I grab the knob. "I don't care what your excuse is. I'm not going to be your - "

I stop as the door opens fully and I see Audrey standing there.

"Oh." The lone word manages to slip out my lips.

Audrey grins. "Expecting someone else?"

I shake my head. "N - no. I was just... talking to... to Claus."

I glance behind me.

"We were just talking." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was going to ask you to help decorate the town hall for the Christmas dance tomorrow night."

"Oh." I scratch my cheek. "That's tomorrow night?"

Audrey nods. "Didn't you read the paper I gave you."

"I did. It's just... time flies around this... time of year."

"I agree." She smiles. "Just a week and it will be Christmas."

"Yeah."

"So you'll come and help us decorate?"

I rattle my brains for an excuse. "Um... Isn't there a storm coming? I heard about it on TV and the snow seems to be pouring now."

"Oh, this is just regular snowfall." Audrey waves a manicured hand in front of her face. "And that storm is just a small one. I'm sure we'll barely feel it. Besides, we'll be indoors, you know."

"Well, I can't go," I tell her.

"Why not?"

I scratch the back of my head. "Because I'm baking."

Audrey sniffs. "That doesn't smell like baking, dear. It smells like burning."

I frown.

"Maybe a change of pace will do you some good."

Maybe. But...

"I know you're free," Audrey adds.

I throw her a puzzled look. "Do you?"

"Aren't you always?"

So that's how she sees me.

I shake my head. "I can't. I really can't. There must be other people you can ask."

"Yes, and I've asked them too," Audrey says. "The more the merrier."

I glance over my shoulder. "I have to take care of Claus."

"You can bring him," Audrey says.

My eyebrows arch. Really? Audrey wants me to bring Claus?

Has she forgotten the time she invited me to her house and Claus ended up breaking half a dozen things?

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's Christmas, Jordan." Audrey squeezes my arm. "Christmas is for children."

"I..."

"Come on." She pulls my arm. "I'll give you a lift."

"Mommy, I'm done washing!" Claus shouts behind me.

"Okay!" I shout back over my shoulder.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Audrey asks me.

For her to leave?

"Why don't you get your coat and Claus's and let's go dress up that town hall for Christmas, hmm?"

I let out a sigh. Well, it doesn't seem like I have a choice. Audrey isn't letting go of my arm.

"Fine. Let go of me," I tell her. "And give me five minutes."

"Three," she says with a sweet smile that I'd like to wipe off her face. Then she claps her hands. "Oh, this will be so much fun!"

~

It does seem like Claus is having fun, I think as I glance over my shoulder at the corner of the hall.

Thank goodness some of the other parents brought their kids, too, and two mothers seem to be watching over the small group, keeping them occupied with paper folding and clay and Christmas songs. Claus is in the middle of that group, swaying his head to the music as he's molding clay in his hands. I don't know what he's making, but at least he's sitting down and not causing any trouble.

As for me, I suppose I did need a change of pace. Now that I'm cutting snowflakes and reindeer, I feel a little more at ease.

I hum along to "Sleigh Ride" as I start on another snowflake.

"So, you're neighbors with Audrey?" asks the woman beside me, who's covering the snowflakes in glitter and whose name I haven't been able to catch yet.

"Not exactly neighbors," I say as I glance in her direction.

She seems to be doing nothing other than telling other people what to do. As usual.

"But we live on the same street."

"I passed through there just yesterday and I saw the Marsh house all dolled up," she says. "Maybe it's entering that contest for the best dressed house?"

"I don't think so," I tell her. "I live across from it."

"Oh."

Frankly, I don't want to think about that house right now.

"How long have you lived here?" I change the topic.

"Almost ten years, I think. Frank and I, we met in Boulder, and then we decided to move here when we had kids."

I nod. "I see."

I glance back at the group of kids, wondering which ones are hers.

"Did you bring your kids?"

"Oh, no. They're with their grandparents in New Jersey. Frank and I will follow in a few days."

With another snip, the edges of my snowflake come off. Now I just have to work on the smaller cut-outs.

"So you'll spend Christmas there?" I keep the conversation going.

"Yes. What about you? Spending it here?"

"Nowhere else."

"What about your parents?"

"They like a peaceful Christmas. Or a peaceful home. And I have a five-year-old, so..."

She grins. "I understand. My kids are seven and eight now, but when they were two to five, they drove me crazy, too."

I smile.

"Is your husband coming home for Christmas?" she asks suddenly.

I pause.

She notices and holds her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know your husband passed..."

"I don't have a husband," I clarify before the conversation gets any more awkward.

"I see. So the child's father...?"

Before I can answer, the door to the town hall opens. My eyes grow wide as I see who's just stepped in.

Lance?

Our eyes meet and I quickly look away. What on earth is he doing here? Why is he back?

From the corner of my eye, I see him heading towards me, but Audrey stops him and asks him to do something. For once, I'm grateful.

"That's the man staying at the Marsh house, isn't he?" the woman beside me asks.

She can't seem to take her eyes off him.

"Audrey keeps saying he's gorgeous. And she's right."

"He's a jerk," I mutter under my breath as I continue cutting cardboard.

"What?"

"Nothing." I set my scissors down. "On second thought, I think I should be going now."

"What? But we're not yet done."

I stand up. "Sorry."

I grab my purse, but Lance is already heading my way before I can even step away from the pile of cardboard.

I turn my back to him.

"Jordan," he says my name.

I draw a deep breath.

He grips my arm. "Jordan, are you still - ?"

"Ah, you're back," I tell him as I pull my arm away. "I thought you'd left for good."

"No. I just brought Elaine to the airport."

I nod. "Right."

"About Elaine, I - "

He stops as a little girl screams. I run over to where the kids are playing just as a fight seems to start. When I get there, I see Claus and an older boy with arms flailing, the adults trying to tear them apart.

"Claus!" I pull him to my arms. "What is going on?"

Lance pulls away the other boy, one with curly hair and a pudgy face.

"He hit me first," the boy says.

I look at my son. "Claus, is that true?"

Claus doesn't answer. His small shoulders rise and fall. He glares at the other boy as tears stream down his cheeks.

Lance walks over as the other boy is taken by his father. He kneels beside him and I kneel on the other side.

"Claus, what happened?" Lance asks calmly.

Then I hear another scream. A grown woman's.

I stand up and see a woman with dark skin and hair wearing a horrified expression.

"My daughter's hair!" she shrieks.

I look and find that there's clay stuck to the little girl's wiry hair.

Oh, shit.

The woman glares at me. "Your son did this!"

"I..."

"Did you do that, Claus?" Lance asks him. "Tell me what happened. I won't get mad at you, I swear."

"I... didn't mean to," Claus finally speaks. "I was trying to put it on him."

He points at the other boy, who's still frowning.

"Why?" I ask Claus.

"Because he said there was no Santa."

I gasp and stare at the boy. "How could you say such a thing?"

"Hey." His father steps forward. "If you have anything to say, say it to me."

My jaw clenches.

The girl with the clay in her hair starts sobbing.

"Look what you've done," the mother sneers.

I place a hand on my forehead, which has started to throb. The room begins to spin. The girl's cries nearly split my skull open. The boy's father starts talking, but I can't hear what he's saying.

"Everyone calm down," Lance says.

The noise dies down.

"For heaven's sake, it's Christmas," he adds.

"Well, thanks to that boy, my daughter's Christmas is ruined," the girl's mother says.

That boy. The spite in her voice pricks my heart.

Her daughter's Christmas is ruined? What about Claus's, now that someone's told him Santa does not exist?

"Let's just take a moment to breathe, okay?" Lance says. "Let's not make things worse than they are."

He ushers me and Claus out of the hall and down the corridor to a reception area. He lets Claus sit on the couch and I sit beside him.

"You're in big trouble, young man," I tell him.

He looks like he's about to cry. My heart breaks. I want to give him a tight hug, but first I have to make him understand some things.

"I'm very disappointed in you."

"But that boy - "

"Was wrong," I finish. "But you still shouldn't have tried to throw the clay at him or hit him after."

Claus's face falls.

"Do you understand?" I ask him.

Claus sniffs and nods.

"Now, you go back there and apologize." I point down the corridor.

"I'll go with him," Lance offers.

"No," I tell him. "Claus has to go on his own. If I'm there or you're there, he won't apologize."

Lance steps back.

I turn to my son. "Claus?"

He says nothing.

"Go apologize and then we'll continue this conversation at home."

He nods and starts walking, dragging his feet.

I stand up and watch him go.

"Are you alright?" Lance asks me.

"What do you think?" I throw the question back at him.

Having your son treated like some criminal and then telling him he's wrong even though you're not sure he is - it's the worst feeling.

"Jordan - "

"What are you doing here?" I turn to him.

"Like I said, I just drove my half sister to the airport."

"Like I'd - " I stop as his words sink in. "Your half sister?"

"My mother remarried after my father died. He had children of his own and they had a child of their own. So yeah, she's my half sister."

My eyebrows arch. Half sister?

"So that's why she's so young," I mutter more to myself than to Lance.

Just like that, relief floods over me. I even feel like laughing at how foolish I've been, in fact, except this situation here in the town hall is no laughing matter.

I hold my hand to my chest.

Wait. Why do I feel so relieved?

"You should have told me right away," I tell Lance.

"I was trying to, but Elaine talks a lot."

That she does.

"I'm sorry," he adds.

I shake my head. "It's fine."

Just then, Claus comes running back.

"Did you say sorry?" I ask.

He nods.

"Come on." I offer him my arm.

"You're not going to talk to the other parents?" Lance asks me.

"Maybe some other time," I answer as I grab Claus's hand. "We all need to calm down."

Lance nods.

"Think you can give us a ride home?" I ask him.

"Sure."

~

Claus remains silent the whole drive home. Even at home, he doesn't say a word. Eventually, he falls asleep in the bedroom. I leave him alone and decide to take a warm shower. I need one after all that's happened.

As the water trickles down my skin, my head is filled with Claus. Now that things have been cleared up regarding Lance, he's been relegated to the back room.

Claus has been in trouble before, and I've been angry at him before. But then, before, it was his fault. He tried to steal another kid's toy, eat someone's food, pushed a kid down a slide. He meant to do those things and he said sorry after. Now, though, I know he was provoked. That's why he didn't want to say sorry.

Still, I asked him to because someone ended up getting hurt.

I run my hands through my hair.

Did I do the right thing?

Even after my shower ends, I still haven't found an answer. I just tell myself that I should just try to talk to Claus again when he wakes up and that we'll sort things out together.

When I get back to the bedroom, though, Claus isn't there.

I can see the creases on the bed where he was lying down, and the folds of the blanket. But no Claus.

"Claus?"

I start searching the house for him, upstairs and downstairs, in the backyard and on the front porch. But I don't find him.

As I stare out at the falling snow, I clasp a shaking hand to my mouth. Memories of another time when there was a storm just like this one plague me and fear grips my throat. My chest feels so tight I can barely breathe.

Where did Claus go?