along behind her. Her face taut with nervousness, she put her arms around him and gave him a hug. He knew why she clung; he could feel her shuddering intake of breath and sensed she was about to shatter.
“Hey,” he said, stepping back. In the realm of awkward moments, this one definitely ranked.
“So,” said Maya with forced cheerfulness, “are we going straight to your place or—”
“My place,” he said, then stepped farther away from her. It was too late, though. His foot was already planted deep in his mouth. “Er...Maya, this is Darcy.”
“Hi,” said Darcy; then she shifted her glance at Logan. “Sorry, I’d better be on my way. I’ve got...you know, that work stuff going on.”
“Sure. Of course.”
“Good to meet you,” she murmured, and hurried away, practically running as she followed signs to the taxi stand.
Logan suppressed a groan of frustration. He couldn’t let himself worry about her for the moment. Shifting gears, he focused on the kids, trying to figure out how in God’s name to make this easier for them. He couldn’t. No one could. “Okay, gang. To the mountaintop. You’re going to love it there.”
“I’ve been to your house,” said Andre. “Last summer. Remember? I got to have a sleepover with Charlie before camp started.”
“You’re right. But that was a different house. The one in town. I sold that house and moved.”
“Where do you live now?” asked Angelica.
“On the mountaintop, like I said. There’s a big old house up there that will hold everybody who’s coming for the holidays. You get to sleep in a bunk room with Charlie and his cousins.”
“Cool,” said Andre. “I get the top bunk.”
Logan opened the back door of the Jeep and loaded in their luggage. “Buckle up. It takes about half an hour to get to the new place. Even Charlie hasn’t seen it yet. He doesn’t arrive for two more days.”
The kids chattered nonstop on the drive up the mountain. They seemed excited and, to Logan’s relief, not terrified that their mother was about to leave them.
“Mama has to go away for a job,” said Angelica.
Logan glanced at her in the rearview mirror. The little girl looked guileless. He didn’t blame Maya for fudging the details. No point in scaring the kids by telling them their mom was headed for a frightening place. A quick scan of Andre’s face revealed a different story. Logan suspected the boy wasn’t fooled for a minute. Andre’s skin was stretched taut across his cheekbones, and his eyes were narrowed as he watched out the window.
“So, Charlie is really excited about having Christmas with you guys,” Logan said. “He can’t wait to see you. He’s coming all the way from Oklahoma.”
“He’s moving to Japan,” said Andre. “He wrote me an email about it.”
“That’s cool that you guys email each other.” Logan was glad to hear it. He received regular emails from his son, too, filled with briefly stated facts—the world according to Charlie. “I got a haircut today.” “There was a field trip to the Vehicle Operations Center.” “Sushi was invented in Japan. I ate one sushi roll and it was yucky. When I move to Japan I will not eat sushi.”
Logan always wrote back promptly. It was not the same as being with his son, but with the emails and daily video phone calls, they managed to stay connected.
“Why did you move to the mountaintop?” asked Andre. He kept staring at the winter woods out the window. The black lines of the bare trees etched the hillside.
“It’s not exactly the top,” said Logan, “but close enough. I live there because it’s near my work, a resort called Saddle Mountain.”
“What kind of resort?” asked Angelica.
“In winter, it’s a place to go skiing or snowboarding, or sledding. You can also take a nature hike if you bundle up and stick to the trails. We can put on the snowshoes.”
“That sounds like fun,” said Maya. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“How will Santa Claus know where we are?” asked the little girl.
“Kids always wonder that,” Logan said. “He just does, that’s all. It’s one of the special things about Christmas.”
“Really?”
“When I was your age, my parents took me to Florida at Christmas. And Santa always found me, and I always found what I was wishing for under the tree.”
“I don’t get how that works,” said Angelica.
“It just works,” said Maya.
“Your mother is right. Sometimes it takes a miracle. What do you want from Santa?” Logan asked.
“I’m not telling,” Andre said. “I’ll only tell Santa.”
“Good plan,” he said.
“I’ve heard if you tell too many people, it might not come true,” Andre pointed out.
Logan carefully navigated his way up the winding mountain road. The town fell away, yielding to the fantastic scenery of the winter woods with sunshine peeking through. “Tell you what. We’ll put up a special light display to give Santa a landing indicator. Just in case.”
“If we live with you while Mom is away, who will take care of us?” asked Angelica.
“I will,” said Logan.
“But who’ll be the mom?”
“I can do everything a mom can do, except I’m a little better at certain things.”
“What things?”
“Singing, for one. Snowboarding.”
“Really? What else?”
“Cooking, for sure. Wait until you taste my homemade hot chocolate. You’ll be like, Logan, you should make this for everybody on earth. Then there would be world peace. And global warming would end.”
A giggle erupted from the backseat. “What else?”
“Armpit farting. I’ll teach you how.” As they drove past the resort on the way to the house, he pointed out the highlights. “That’s the main lodge, where you can get a mean bowl of chili and the best French fries known to man. The ski school is on the end there. All the instructors wear neon lime-green parkas so you can find them. The chalet is like a hotel, and it’s got an outdoor pool and two hot tubs.”
“Can we use the pool?” asked Andre.
“Sure. We get special privileges because we run the place,” said Logan.
Logan liked having the kids with him, even though they reminded him of how very much he missed Charlie.
Pulling up in front of the garage of his place, he looked at it as a stranger might, and was struck by how large the residence was. It had been the original resort lodge, later repurposed for the owner’s family and a number of resident workers. In recent years, it had served as a rustic B and B. It had the same old-world vibe as the rest of the resort, with shutters on the windows and brown painted railings all around, a chimney on each end of the building and lights glowing in the windows. When he was by himself in the big old place, he felt like a marble in a pinball machine, rolling around aimlessly. Having the kids with him was going to fill a void, for sure.
“Here we are,” he said, getting out and gathering their bags. “Come on in, and I’ll show you around.”
“Who’ll look after us when you’re at work?” asked Angelica.
“Her name’s Chelsea,” said Logan. “She’s coming up to meet you later this afternoon. You’re going to love her.” Chelsea was a friend left over from his married days. After the divorce, the friends tended to divvy themselves up: Friends of the ex-bride, friends of the ex-groom. Chelsea was one of the few who straddled the line, staying in touch with both Logan and his ex.
“Your house is really big,” said Angelica, stepping through the front door. She glanced up at her mother, who nodded reassuringly.
“Lots of room for everybody,” Maya said.
Logan gave them a quick tour—the kitchen and great room, TV lounge and boardinghouse-sized dining room with a long table lined with seating for sixteen. He had never eaten at that table, not once. It made him feel
