“I like to draw,” said Timothy. “If you like, I’ll make you a picture after lunch, Miss Sandra.”
“Thank you, I’d love that. My son used to do that when he was a boy, but I haven’t had a homemade picture hanging on my refrigerator for many years.”
“Are you sad your boy is getting married?” the boy continued.
“Not at all,” Sandra said. “Angie is a wonderful woman and they are happy. I could never stand in their way even if my selfish heart wanted to.”
Robert heard her gasp, suddenly realizing how close that comment hit the hearts around the table. She bit her lip, and he covered her hand with his and squeezed. He’d learned to recognize Sandra’s habits and hoped to reassure her he understood the blunder. The grin he added as a bonus, hoping that would tell her how proud he felt to sit beside her.
Cynthia noticed and pushed her chair back. “Franny, help me clean off the table. Father, you can take the children in the living room and play one of your famous games with them.”
The children squealed and ran for their Pappy, dragging him into the other room, leaving Sandra to debate whether to follow or offer to help the girls. She opted to enter the lion’s den.
“May I help?” she asked as she picked up her plates and headed for the sink.
“I never allow guests to help in the kitchen,” Cynthia said. “And you needn’t fear I’ll harm my sister. We’ve made a temporary truce until our emotions settle down. We can talk as reasonable adults despite your first impression of us.”
Franny avoided Sandra’s eyes and flicked away in embarrassment. “Sorry, but we’re kind of used to having our father to ourselves. We don’t want to share him with you, or any woman for that matter. Nothing personal.”
“Your father is a grown man who needs companionship. And he assures me he doesn’t bring women home every week for your approval.”
“Heaven forbid! You are quite enough,” said Cynthia. She looked at her sister. “I thought you were the one so adamant against someone replacing our mother?”
Sandra raised a hand to her throat. “Oh, my. You surely misunderstand. I would never try to replace your mother. We are all adults and the best relationship I can endeavour to have with Robert’s family is friendship – a good one, mind you – one that will open doors to communication and love at this stage in our lives.” She inched closer to the girls who stood together, pretending not to listen. “We need to build our future on the foundation of our pasts. Robert and I don’t feel threatened by our first loves.”
Cynthia was the first to turn away but not before Sandra noticed a tear in her eye. “I still don’t ask guests to help clean up.”
“I respect that, but I am a firm believer that a second invitation to lunch disqualifies me as a guest. I hope you will ask me to come again.” Sandra turned to join the noisy games in the other room “I suggested to your father you may enjoy coming to the reception on Christmas Eve, since he will be working. Consider yourself invited. I’ll put you at our table, and if you want to bring the children, the social convenor at the resort has a wonderful afternoon and evening planned for them.”
“Short notice, isn’t it?” asked Franny.
“The bride and groom are laid back and will not think twice about adding more chairs and plates. Besides, I’d love to introduce you to my son and his wife. Come early. Santa Fredricks is paying us a visit between four and five. I believe he has a gift for all the guests.”
“I might think about it,” Franny said almost as a rebuke to her sister. “Never been to Heritage Resort.”
“Please do. Text your father with a number when you decide.” Sandra offered a kind smile and walked out the door, sighing relief. In leaving the tension behind. She hoped that first impressions on both sides would not be the last.
All hope fell in ruin an hour later. While passing the kitchen after using the restroom, Sandra overheard the girls battling with their father. When they accused Sandra of being a gold digger out to steal their inheritance, the tears spilled like a leaky faucet down her cheeks. Money? Could it really be all about money? Hurrying to the hallway, she grabbed her belongings and fled for the car. She’d been a fool to think she’d come close to winning their favor. Looking in the rear-view mirror, she saw Robert standing on the step watching after her with a forlorn and confused expression. Torn loyalties – she’d not let that happen.
Trevor and Angie were at the front desk with Charles when Sandra entered the foyer of Heritage Inn. Plunking the keys on the counter, she said, “I’m back,” and continued toward her room. Once inside, she collapsed across the bed, emotionally exhausted and feeling like a rejected teenager. and. Sandra never heard the tap on her door or the young couple approach her. Trevor touched her foot, and she bolted around, teary eyed and embarrassed.
“Mother, what’s the matter?” Trevor asked, kneeling on the floor beside her.
“Nothing a good swat up the back of my head won’t fix.”
“Where did you go today?”
Sandra looked at Angie while grabbing the North Pole gift box from her bedside table. “To the Christmas Cave – not in hopes to find the answer to Mrs. Claus’s choice of a lonely heart – but to remember the old and use the trip as a stepping tone toward the future.”
“With Robert?” asked Angie.
“That’s the irony of it. Guess who owns the store?”
“He’s the one the
