Chapter Nineteen

Lance

"I should've known it wasn't serious," I mutter under my breath as I stand in front of my mother, who's up on her feet and busy decorating the tree as if nothing happened.

And here I thought I'd find her in the hospital, or at least in bed.

She turns to me with a frown. "What? You were hoping I broke my neck or something? How cruel."

I sink into a chair and sigh. "But you did fall, didn't you?"

"I missed a step and took a tumble," she says as she hangs a Christmas ball on a bough. "My back still hurts and I've got a bruise on my side."

"Yet you're decorating," I point out.

"You know me. It's my favorite time of the year."

"I do know that, yes."

"Nothing will stop Christmas, and so nothing can stop me from decorating."

She stands on the tips of her toes as she tries to hang an angel on a high branch. I decide to help her.

"Are you sure you're fine?" I ask as I slip the ornament around a bunch of leaves.

"I'm fine," she assures me with a smile. "And I feel even better now that my son has finally come home."

"I'm only staying overnight," I say.

She frowns. "Are you going to wait until I'm on my deathbed before you spend Christmas with me?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "Mom."

"Oh, fine." She waves her hand. "I won't nag or tug on your non-existent conscience."

I roll my eyes.

"I'm just glad you came to see me." She touches the back of my head. "I thought you no longer cared."

I say nothing.

"Well, look what the cat brought in," Elaine says as she strides into the living room. "And it's not even Christmas yet."

"Elaine, be nice," my mother warns.

"Oh, don't tell her that, Mom," I tell her. "She isn't six anymore. Besides, nice isn't in her vocabulary."

Elaine pouts.

"I heard you sent her money," my mother says.

Sent? Right. She didn't tell Mom she came to visit me.

"And I bought clothes."

Elaine turns around to show off the oversized shirt she's wearing over a black turtleneck sweater and black tights.

I shrug. "You shouldn't have."

She glares at me.

"You be nice too." Mom pats my shoulder. "She's your sister."

"Half sister," I say. "So I'm being halfway nice."

My mother sighs.

"So did you bring presents for everyone?" Elaine asks me.

My eyebrows crease. "I just came here to check on Mom, remember?"

She puts her hands on her hips. "I don't see why you couldn't grab a few presents on your way here. Max and Joanna and Christy will be disappointed."

"Who?"

"Max and Joanna are Ralph's kids," my mother reminds me. "They're twelve and eight. Christy is Hannah's kid and she's four."

I shrug. "Well, I'll just give them some money."

"Nonsense." Elaine snorts. "Kids don't want money."

"I wanted money when I was a kid."

"Because you've always been greedy," she says. "Strangers give money at Christmas because they don't know what to get or can't be bothered with shopping. It's thoughtless. Family members give presents, or they give money and presents."

"Well, I don't have presents," I tell her.

Elaine grabs my arm. "Then it's time to go shopping."

~

I hate shopping. Especially at Christmas.

Every aisle is crowded. The lines are long. The sales clerks are pushy. The music is loud.

Finally, after two hours, Elaine and I emerge from the toy store with three perfectly wrapped gifts.

"Happy now?" I ask her.

She grins. "But I'm hungry."

Actually, so am I.

"Let's grab a bite to eat."

We drive around until we find a restaurant that isn't too crowded - an expensive-looking Japanese one. We order some sushi, ramen and tempura. After the waiter leaves, I take out my phone to check my emails from work. Elaine takes out her compact mirror and checks on her eyebrows.

"They're still there," I tell her. "Don't worry."

She says nothing.

"Just barely, though."

She closes the compact. "For your information, thin eyebrows are in."

I just shrug.

"So, aren't you going to get that woman and her kid a present?" Elaine asks as she sits back. "Or have you gotten tired of them already?"

I put away my phone. "I already have presents for them."

"You mean you asked your secretary to buy presents for them."

"Yes." There's no point denying it.

Elaine grins. "It just goes to show how much you care."

"Shut up."

She leans forward. "You know, if you really care about them, you should do something special with them on Christmas."

"I didn't ask for your advice."

But of course she's giving it anyway. "Presents are nice. That's true. But the time you spend with someone, the company, the things you do together and for each other. Those are priceless."

I narrow my eyes at her. "You're talking sense today."

She shrugs. "Maybe it's the new clothes. Or that thing in the air."

"Christmas?"

"Body odor. Nobody likes taking a bath in winter."

I frown.

"Yes, Christmas, silly." She sits back. "Anyway, the two of you seem to have made up since I left. You seem to really care about her."

I tuck my hands inside my pockets and say nothing.

"Wait." Elaine props her elbow on the table and cradles her cheek in her hand. "You're in love with her."

I snort. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

She sighs. "But of course you'd deny it. Maybe you don't even realize it. After all, what do you know about love? Up to now, you've just played with women."

"I'd rather not discuss it with you."

"Fine." She slumps in her chair. "But as your sister, let me give you a word of advice."

"Half sister," I remind her.

"Sooner or later, you're going to get tired of..." She stops.

"Of what?"

"That's it. I'm giving you half a piece of advice." Elaine grins. "I'm sure you can figure out the rest."

I just roll my eyes and shake my head.

"Wait. We should get a present for Mom," she changes the topic suddenly. "Something from the two of us."

"We could get a robe with two colors that looks like it's been split in half and sewed back together, half from me and half from you."

"Funny." She taps her fingers on the table. "But a robe isn't such a bad idea. Maybe a Christmassy robe?"

Elaine touches her chin.

"I think I've seen just the thing, but we have to hurry. Someone else might get it."

~

"What did you get?" my mother asks me as I take off my boots.

My eyebrows crease.

"For the kids," she adds.

Oh. For a moment there, I thought she'd somehow found out that Elaine and I bought her something. Sometimes I think she's psychic.

"Just toys," I say.

She nods.

"Oh, by the way, I've got some stuff to show you."

I follow her up to her bedroom but stop at the doorway.

"Are you sure Charles won't mind me being here?"

"Oh, just come in."

I follow her to the walk-in closet. She kneels on the floor and pulls a box out from beneath a rack of clothes. I sit on the carpet.

"When I sold that house, I didn't get rid of everything," my mother says. "I kept a few things that I thought you might want to have."

She hands me the box. I open it, and inside, I see the baseball and the mitt my father gave me on that one Christmas he didn't have to be away at work. We barely used them, but we did.

I pick up the mitt. "Didn't I throw this away a long time ago?"

"Your father kept it, apparently."

I look at her. "Why are you giving it to me now, after all these years?"

"Well, I've been wanting to give it to you, but you never come over and I keep forgetting." She shrugs her thin shoulders. "You know I'm getting old. My memory isn't as good."

She doesn't look old, though. Her hair is still brown with thick curls. I can barely see the wrinkles on her face.

I pick up the ball. "And what am I supposed to do with these?"

My mother gives another shrug. "Maybe give them to your son someday? Or daughter. Even girls like playing baseball nowadays."

My eyebrows crease. "My son?"

She reaches for my hand. "I know you're busy with work and all right now, and I'm really proud of what you've become, but everyone needs a family. I know you don't consider this your family, so I hope you'll find your own someday."

I fall silent.

Family. Somehow, the first things that come to my mind when I hear that word are Jordan and Claus's smiling faces.

My mother squeezes my hand. "What is it, Lance?"

"I have something to tell you," I say to her as I meet her gaze.

"What?"

"I have a son."

Her hand leaves mine and covers her gaping mouth. Her eyes grow wide as well.

"You have a son?"

"Yes. Apparently I got a woman pregnant six years ago."

"Six?"

I nod.

"You just found out?"

I give another nod.

"Well, then you must take on your responsibilities."

"I told the mother I'd provide for them both, but she refused."

My mother's eyebrows arch.

"She said it wasn't what she wanted," I explain.

"Maybe not all she wants," my mother says.

"Then what does she want?" I ask.

My mother shakes her head. "Oh, my son. You've grown so much and yet you still understand women so little. It's simple, really."

I give her a puzzled look. "It is?"

"She wants you."

I still don't understand.

My mother pats my shoulder. "Anyway, congratulations. Well, aren't these perfect? You can give them to your son as a Christmas present. What's his name?"

"Claus."

"Claus? Like Santa Claus?"

I nod.

"I like him already. I hope I can meet him soon."

Again, I fall silent.

My mother touches my cheek. "Don't worry about it too much. In spite of everything, you're a good man, Lance. I, of all people, know that. I know you'll be a good father."

"I don't even know how to be a father," I confess.

"Nonsense. Maybe you just don't realize it. After all, men don't try to be fathers. They just become them. And then try to be better and they do."

She squeezes my shoulder and leans on it as she stands up. Then she groans and touches her back.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

"I'm fine," she says.

I notice another box beneath the clothes. "What's in the other box?"

"Oh, just pictures."

"My pictures?" I ask.

She nods.

"I'd like to take them, too, please."

"Sure. I just need to go to the bathroom."

As she leaves, I grab the other box. I take the photo album out of it and grin.

Now Elaine won't be able to use this against me.

As I flip through the pages, though, something else fills my mind. My gaze lingers on the few pictures of me and my father. One is of me sitting on his shoulders and eating an ice cream cone. Another is of me with the baseball mitt and him with the ball. Another is of me and him stuffing our faces with burgers.

Then it dawns on me. This is what Jordan wants for Claus.

She wants me to be there for Claus. She wants me to support him, to teach him, to guide him, to laugh with him and to be proud of him. Not just to provide for him.

She wants me to keep doing the things I've already been doing.

My lips curve into a smile as I flip another page.

I finally understand. And when I see Jordan again tomorrow, I'll tell her.

~

Jordan lifts the mug of steaming coffee to her lips. I warm my hands around mine as I watch her from across the table.

This almost feels like deja vu.

This time, though, she looks calmer. And I know what I have to say.

She sets down your mug. "Me first. I want to apologize for lashing out at you before. And for being difficult. I shouldn't have shut you down like that."

I shake my head. "I would have shut me down, too, if I was the one in your seat. It was a bad offer."

Her eyebrows arch in surprise.

"I'm not going to have the test done," I tell her. "I believe you when you say Claus is my son."

She looks at her mug. "Thank you."

"And I'll still provide everything he needs. But I won't let someone else make the arrangements. I'll see to it myself."

She lifts her chin and meets my gaze.

"I'll come here and visit both of you as much as I can so I know what you need myself, and I'll get it myself, unless you want to move to Boston."

Jordan touches her arm. "I don't know. That's... a big move."

"Right. No rush. And it will be your decision, not mine."

She nods.

"Does that sound good?"

"Better," she answers with a faint smile. "Like you said, we mustn't rush. We should just take things one step at a time."

I drink a sip of coffee.

"First things first," Jordan continues. "We should probably tell Claus."

I set down my mug. "If you think it's the right thing to do."

"Of course it is. He already... loves you. He deserves to know who you really are. But before that, I have to be really sure that you won't abandon him. Ever. That you'll do your best not to hurt him." Her doe eyes implore mine. "Will you give me your word?"

I reach for her hand. "I, Lance Abram, swear to you that I will not abandon Claus until the day I die and I will do my best to be a good father to him."

Jordan nods. "Good. Otherwise, Claus would be better off not knowing about you."

"I understand."

She lifts her mug. "Shall we tell him the news after we're done with coffee?"