The Christmas Wife (10 page)

“There are!”  She shrieked.  “I climbed out of bed to go to
mama and one of them touched my foot!”

“Shh,” he said again.  He felt incredibly helpless as Hattie
cried in his arms and he rubbed and patted her small back again.  He could feel
her heart pounding against him and he kissed the top of her head.  “Please
don’t cry, Hattie.  You’re okay now.”

After a few moments, her crying trickled to the occasional
watery sob and he smiled tentatively at her.  “Better?”

“No,” she whispered.  “I want to go to your room.”

He hesitated.  Claire wouldn’t get any rest if Hattie was in
the bed with them.  “Hattie, your mama needs lots of rest so she can feel
better.  You need to stay in your room tonight, okay?”

“No.”  She was beginning to cry again.  “The monsters will
get me, Mr. Stone.”

He set her on the bed and patted her thin shoulder.  “I’ll
check under the bed for the monsters, Hattie.  If there aren’t any, you need to
stay in your own room.”

She gave him a look of terror.  “What if the monsters eat
you? I’ll be all alone!”

“They’re not going to eat me,” he said.

“Are they scared of you like they are of mama?”  She asked.

“Yes,” he said, “they’re even more scared of me.”

She looked him up and down.  “You are pretty big.”

He started to kneel by the bed and she grabbed his hand. 
“Be careful, Mr. Stone.”

He was oddly touched by her concern for him and he gave her
his first natural smile since meeting her.  “I’ll be fine, Hattie.”

She nodded, clearly doubtful about his ability to protect
himself from the monsters, as he lay on his stomach and lifted the bed skirt.

“Mr. Stone?”  Hattie said anxiously as he reached under the
bed.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he sat up and showed her the doll he had bought
her.  “This is what you felt, Hattie.”

“Oh,” she said.

He set the doll on the end of the bed.  “Okay, I’m going to
go back to my room and – “

“No!”  She gave him a look of terror and latched on to him
like a monkey.  “I want to go with you.  Please, please, Mr. Stone.”

She gave him a pleading look that would normally have made
him cave but Claire really needed to rest.

“How about I stay here with you, Hattie?”

“Ok,” she said eagerly before scooting over.  “Lie down with
me, Mr. Stone.”

He stretched out beside the little girl.  He could barely
fit on the bed, his calves and feet were hanging over the edge, and he closed
his eyes as Hattie whispered, “Mr. Stone?”

“Yes, Hattie?”

“Will you sing me a song?  Mama always sings me a song.”

“Nope.”  He shook his head and then cracked open one eye
when she sat up.

“Please?”

“No way.  I do not sing, Hattie,” he said firmly.  “Now lie
down, close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Yes you are,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” she argued.

“Hattie,” he said, “I’m really tired and I have a lot of
work to do tomorrow.  Close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” she pouted.  She collapsed on the bed and stared up
at the ceiling.  “How about if I sing you a song, Mr. Stone?”

“Sure, yeah, whatever,” he mumbled.  “Just make it a quick
one.”

She sang an oddly tuneless version of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle
Little Star’ before lapsing into silence. 

“That was really good,” he mumbled again.

“Thank you,” she said.  “Good night, Mr. Stone.”

“Good night, Hattie.”

“Mr. Stone, I’m bored,” Hattie moaned.  “Come play with me.”

He looked up from his computer as Hattie wandered into his
office.

“I told you, Hattie, I have a lot of work to do this
morning.  Go play in your room.”

“I don’t want to,” she said.

He rubbed at his forehead.  He had barely slept last night
and when he had finally dozed off, he had woken only a few hours later to find
Hattie half-off the bed with her feet resting on his face.  God, the kid slept
in the weirdest positions.

“Hattie, I can’t play with you.  I have a lot to get done
before – “

The doorbell rang and Hattie scurried for the door. 
“There’s someone here!”

He followed her to the front door and she stared at the man
standing on the porch.

“Hello, Mr. Stone.”

“Hello, Dr. Morris.  Thanks for coming by on a Saturday.”

“Thanks for paying double my fees,” the man laughed before
smiling at Hattie.  “And who are you?”

Hattie grabbed on to Deacon’s leg and buried her face in his
jeans before giving Dr. Morris an uncharacteristically shy look.  “I’m Hattie.”

“Hi, Hattie.  I’m Dr. Morris.”

“Are you here to see mama?”

“I am,” he confirmed as he stepped into the house. 

Hattie reached for Deacon’s hand and he took it
automatically as he led Dr. Morris to his bedroom.  The doctor shrugged out of
his coat and draped it over a chair before sitting on the bed and reaching for
Claire’s wrist.

At his touch her eyelids fluttered open and he smiled at
her.  “Good morning, Mrs. Stone.  How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” she said.

“Yes, Mr. Stone said you were throwing up again last
night.”  Dr. Morris stuck the thermometer in her ear and waited for it to
beep.  “Well, you still have a fever but it’s not as high as yesterday.  That’s
a good sign.  But you haven’t been able to keep anything down?”

Claire shook her head as Dr. Morris listened to her chest. 

“Should she be in the hospital?”  Deacon asked anxiously as
Hattie tugged on his shirt.  She held her arms up and he picked her up and
settled her in the crook of his arm as Claire shook her head again.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

“I don’t think you need to,” Dr. Morris said.  “But I am
going to give you another shot for nausea and if you can’t keep water or other
clear liquids down over the next twelve hours, you’ll need more IV fluids.”

He rummaged in his bag and brought out a large needle and a
vial of clear liquid.  Hattie gave Deacon a look of alarm.  “Is he giving that
to mama?  I don’t want him to do that.”

“It’s medicine, honey,” Deacon said distractedly.  “She
needs it to feel better.”

“Is it going to hurt?”  Hattie asked anxiously.  “Mama, do
you need me to hold your hand?”

“No, honey,” Claire said.  “I don’t want you to get sick
too.”

Deacon smiled at Hattie.  “Why don’t we go downstairs and warm
up some broth for your mama while Dr. Morris helps her?”

“Okay,” Hattie said.

She rested her head on Deacon’s shoulder as he carried her
out of the room.

* * *

“Mr. Stone, please play with me.”  Hattie collapsed
dramatically on the floor of his office and stared pleadingly at him.

“Hattie, I need to finish my work,” he said.

“But it’s Saturday!”

“Sometimes grown-ups work on Saturdays.”

“I’ve been all by myself for hours!”  She whined.  “Mama and
I always do something fun on Saturday.”

He rolled his eyes.  “You’re being dramatic, Hattie.  We
just finished having lunch together, remember?  Go play with your toys for a
while.”

“I already played with them,” she said.

“Go ride your new bike,” he suggested.

“There’s snow on the ground.  I can’t ride my bike in the
snow,” she said.

“Ride it in the hallway then,” he said.

She sat up and grinned at him.  “Really?  I can ride my bike
in the hallway?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said.  “Just stay out of my art room.  I
don’t need you breaking another statue.”

There was silence and he finally looked up from his
computer.  Hattie was staring at him and he gave her an impatient look.  “What
is it, Hattie?”

“I don’t know how to ride a bike, Mr. Stone,” she said
quietly.

“You don’t know how to ride a bike?”  He gave her a look of
surprise and she shrugged.

“I’ve never had one before.”

He sat back in his chair and studied the little girl before
standing up abruptly.  “C’mon, Hattie.”

“Yay!”  She cheered loudly and took his offered hand.  “What
are we doing?”

“I’m going to teach you how to ride a bike.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stone!”  She squeezed his hand tightly.

* * *

“Don’t let go!  Don’t let go!”  Hattie squealed half in
terror and half in delight as she pedaled down the hallway.  Her bike helmet
was strapped to her head, and the bike wobbled as she steered it.

“I’m not letting go.  Pedal faster,” Deacon said as he held
the back of the bike and jogged slowly behind her. 

They were nearing the end of the hallway and he hollered,
“Brakes, Hattie!  Brakes!”

She slammed on the brakes and he caught her by the back of
the shirt when she nearly flew over the handlebars.  “More gently next time,
honey.”

“Again!”  She shouted.

He turned her around and they started again, Hattie pedaling
furiously as they rolled down the hallway. 

“You’re doing great, Hattie,” Deacon said as she braked more
gently.  He turned her again and patted her back.  “I’m going to let go this
time, okay?”

“But what if I fall?”  She said.

“You won’t.  We’ve gone down the hallway twenty times now
and you’re doing really well,” he assured her.  “But if you do, I’ll be right
there to catch you, okay?”

She took a deep breath.  “Okay.”

“Don’t pedal too fast,” he advised as they started down the
hallway.  He let go of the bike and smiled triumphantly when Hattie stayed
upright.  He jogged beside her as she rode.  “You’re doing great, Hattie!  Keep
going!”

She steered carefully down the hallway and he lapsed a
little ways behind her as she stopped just in front of the wall and slid from
the seat.  She climbed off the bike and leaned it against the wall before
turning toward him.

A smile crossed his face at her look of delight as she
clapped her hands and shouted, “I did it!  I did it, Mr. Stone!”

She raced toward him.  He caught her as she launched herself
at him and threw her up in the air.  She shrieked happily, and he caught her
and tossed her into the air again as she laughed hysterically.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly
before kissing him on the cheek.  “I’m really good at bike riding, Mr. Stone.”

He laughed.  “Yes, you are.”

He patted her back before setting her gently on her feet. 
“Hattie, why don’t you call me Deacon?”

“Sure, I can do that,” she said.  He helped her unbuckle the
bike helmet before taking her hand and leading her to her bedroom.

“Okay, I really need to do some work so why don’t you play
in your room until dinner.”

Her face fell.  “But we were having so much fun.”

“I know, but I have to work,” he said before handing her a
doll.  “You can have fun in here, alright?  You have lots of toys to play
with.”

She sat on the side of her bed and studied the room before
sighing sadly.  “Okay, Deacon.”

He headed to the door and made the fatal mistake of glancing
once more at the little girl.  She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring
at the doll in her lap, and there was no mistaking the look of unhappiness on
her face.

Guilt flooded through him and he sat down next to her on the
bed.  “You don’t like your room very much, do you, Hattie?”

She gave him a cautious look.  “It’s very nice.  Mama says
I’m very lucky to have such a nice room.”

“Tell me the truth, Hattie,” he said sternly.

“Well,” she stared around the room for a moment, “it’s
really pink.  My favourite colour is green like the Hulk.  And there are lots
of dolls and stuff and I prefer cars and trucks.”

He didn’t reply and she stared anxiously at him.  “I’m
sorry, Deacon.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Hattie,” he said.  “It’s okay
if you don’t like your room.”

“Thank you for teaching me how to ride a bike,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”  He paused before glancing at his watch. 
“What do you think about going to visit my grandmother?”

She nodded eagerly.  “I’d like that!  She’s nice.”

He stood and held his hand out.  “You run downstairs and put
your boots and coat on while I tell your mama where we’re going.”

* * *

“Nana!  Tyson and I fell off the sled!”  Hattie, covered in
snow, followed Tyson into the warm kitchen.

“I saw, my darling.  It looked like a pretty big tumble,”
Rosa said.

To Hattie’s delight, Tyson was visiting Rosa when she and
Deacon had shown up, and the two of them had played together in the toy room
before begging and pleading for Deacon to pull them on the sled in the deep
snow. 

Deacon stuck his head into the kitchen.  “Hey, the two of
you are dripping all over the floor.”

“It’s fine, we have towels,” Rosa said.  She helped Tyson
out of his snowy jacket and boots, a grin creeping across her face as she
watched Deacon do the same for Hattie.

“I have some hot chocolate ready for you, my darlings,” she
said.  Moving stiffly, she poured two mugs of the steaming liquid and smiled
her thanks when Deacon carried them to the table.  He sat down and Rosa’s smile
broadened when Hattie climbed into his lap and leaned against him.

“Be careful, my darling,” she said to Tyson as he reached
for his mug.  “It’s very hot.”

“Yes, nana,” the little boy smiled at her and she ruffled
his hair affectionately.

“Blow on my hot chocolate, Deacon,” Hattie demanded and Rosa
nearly laughed out loud when her grandson blew on the hot chocolate obligingly.

“How is Claire feeling?”  She asked.  “Dr. Morris mentioned
you asked him to drop by and take a look at her.”

“She’s got a bad case of the stomach flu,” Deacon said.  “I
wanted to take her to the hospital but she said no.”

A worried look crossed his face.  “She hasn’t been able to
keep anything down for nearly two days now.”

“She didn’t throw up today,” Hattie said.  “Probably because
the doctor gave her a shot.  Nana, did I tell you that Deacon taught me how to
ride my new bike?”

“You didn’t.”  Rosa smiled at her.  “Did you have fun?”

“I did.  It was very nice of Deacon to teach me,” Hattie
said.  “He had lots of work to do but he took a break.”

“That is nice of him,” Rosa said.

“And he scared away the monsters under the bed last night
and stayed with me when I was too scared to be by myself,” Hattie said.

She patted Deacon’s cheek affectionately before sipping
cautiously at her hot chocolate.

Deacon blushed at the look Rosa was giving him.  “What?”

“Nothing,” she said.  “It would seem marriage and being a
father agrees with you.”

“I’m not being a father,” he said quickly.

Rosa just nodded and Deacon glanced at Hattie.  He wasn’t
being a father, he was just helping out Claire and besides, he had taught
Hattie to ride a bike so she would leave him alone to finish his work.

An excellent plan.  Remind me how much work you’ve
accomplished today?

He ignored his inner voice as Rosa said, “We must talk about
the holidays, Deacon.  I know you and Claire will want to spend Christmas
morning at home with Hattie but I insist that you come here for dinner. 
Brandon, Donna and the boys will be here, as well as Hugo and Henry, and it
won’t feel right if you and your Claire and Hattie don’t join us.”

“I’ll check with Claire but I’m sure she’ll be fine with
it,” he said. 

“Good.”  Rosa smiled happily.  “And I’m assuming the three
of you will be joining us for our annual New Years’ Day brunch?  We’re going to
Renaldo’s this year.”

“Uh, I’ll get back to you on that,” Deacon said.  Claire and
Hattie would be leaving on January first and he ignored the weird apprehension
the thought brought.

“You can’t miss it, my darling,” Rosa frowned at him.  “It’s
tradition.”

“I know,” he said. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when Hattie said, “I’m hungry,
Deacon.”

Rosa stroked Tyson’s hair as he climbed into her lap.  “Why
don’t you and Hattie stay and have dinner with us?  Brandon and Donna won’t be
back from Brandon Junior’s basketball tournament until after eight and Chef is
making Tyson’s favourite – spaghetti.”

“I love spaghetti,” Hattie said brightly.  “Can we stay,
Deacon?  Please?”

He nodded.  “Yes.  I just want to give your mom a quick call
and make sure she’s still doing okay.  Do you want to talk to her?”

“Yes, please,” Hattie kissed him on the cheek and he ignored
the look of smug satisfaction on his grandmother’s face.

* * *

“Okay, Hattie.  You’re going to stay in your own bed
tonight, right?”  Deacon tucked the covers around the little girl.

“I’ll try,” she sighed.

“That’s good.  Because your mama needs to get lots of sleep
to feel better and she won’t sleep well if you’re in the bed with us.”

“Why not?”  Hattie said indignantly.

“Because someone,” he reached down and tickled her through
the covers, “likes to hog the bed.”

She giggled and pushed at his hands.  “I don’t hog the bed.”

“You do,” he said.  “Now, go to sleep.  It’s past your
bedtime again.”