A Magical Christmas by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham [Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101622605
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 1997-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Jon was breathless when he ran up the last of the porch steps behind Ashley.

He’d thought he kept in something that resembled decent shape on his treadmill. Maybe not. And maybe he’d given less and less time to the treadmill lately, just as he’d given less and less time to his children.

And his wife.

Almost ex-wife, he thought. She was dying to be an ex-wife. How was that going to be? He’d have the kids every other weekend and holidays. No, it would never be that bad. Julie wasn’t vengeful—they’d just hit a dead-end together. Still, it was going to hurt like hell. Like having limbs amputated. It wouldn’t be bad with Christie and Jordan—they had their own lives. Lives they preferred to be private—apart from their parents now.

But Ashley…

He stopped on the porch, inhaling deeply. The kids had run on in ahead of him.

Ashley was still young enough to live in wonder. In fantasy, in belief.

Ashley still believed that everything was going to be okay.

God bless her.

Ashley. Not seeing her every morning, with her optimism that belonged only to a child, was going to be anguish.

But wasn’t this constant bickering in front of the kids just as bad?

It was. And he knew it. And he wasn’t a child, and he couldn’t keep on believing in fantasy. Something had died, and that was that.

“Daddy, come on!”

Ashley was back at the door, her eyes wide on his.

“Coming, Pumpkin.”

“Daddy, you wouldn’t believe!”

“What?”

“There’s so much to eat. So much! Bacon and ham and, ugh, fish things! Pancakes and syrup and eggs. Sausages, potatoes—big chunky potatoes, not like B.K. hash browns.”

Ashley loved Burger King’s hash browns.

“They going to be okay?” he asked her.

She giggled. “Don’t be silly, Daddy. I’m having pancakes with syrup.”

She spun around again. He followed her to the door, then he paused, stamping his feet to knock all the snow off them. At that moment he was glad that they had come, no matter what followed.

Christie had laughed this morning. Almost like a real little kid again, his little girl. Jordan had joined in, telling Ashley that he was defending an invisible fort, and that she’d better watch out when his snowballs came flying. They’d had a good time.

No fighting.

He’d been away from Julie, he suddenly remembered with a wince.

“Daddy!”

Ashley was back at the door.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

He left his coat on the tree in the foyer and came into the dining room. He was starving, he realized.

Julie, sipping coffee, was staring out the window that faced their snowman. She was dressed in denims, boots, and a sweater. Julie loved horses. She always had. They’d talked about buying one now and then to board out in west Dade, but they’d never gotten around to doing it. Too busy.

She turned around when he entered the room. “Hey,” she told him. “Good snowman.”

“Thanks.”

“The snowman’s eyes are crooked,” Christie said critically.

“Watch that,” Julie said. “Your father hasn’t seen much more snow in his life than you have. That’s a damned good snowman for a beachboy.

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