Page 61 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“It’s the marriage that scares me more than the chaos.”

Chapter twenty-six

Remy’swordsstillresonatedin his mind as they coaxed the girls into bed hours later.

The parade’d been a huge success, although the concept of Santa Claus was still a little abstract for the little ones.

He couldn’t wait until next year. By then, the girls would be fully cognizant of Christmas, and better able to enjoy the season. As he turned off the light in their room, he envisioned all the Christmases to come. Shaking his head, he made his way to the family room. Remy was picking up all the toys, so he helped her.

He wanted to call it companionable, but an underlying tension permeated the room. Without the girls as intermediaries, and with the whole night stretching ahead of them, the room felt claustrophobic.

“I’ll grab some drinks.”

“I wish we had some wine.”

“Remy—”

She held up her hand. “A joke, Rusty. A poor attempt at humor.”

With trepidation, he made his way to the kitchen. Part of him also wondered if alcohol might smooth over their problems, but he knew better. Anything that might lead to an altered state was distasteful for him. His experience with his ex-wife still colored his life. He didn’t like to think about Sissy and her drug addiction, but she’d pop into his mind at the most inopportune moments.

As he poured two diet sodas, he reoriented himself.Remy. Focus on your current wife.

He found her curled up in a chair in the living room.

She smiled and thanked him for the drink. “This was my mother’s favorite chair. She’d sit here for hours and listen to classical music. Sometimes she’d knit and other times she’d just relax here. This was her space.”

“It can be your space, you know.”

She shook her head. “I’m not my mother. I never will be. She was an amazing woman. An amazing mother.”

“Have you ever considered that you might have idealized her?”

She cocked her head to one side as if contemplating his words. “No. Honestly, no. She was one of those people who lived a charmed life. My father made a good living, and my mother opted to stay home. When I was older and began school, she volunteered in the community. She could’ve felt constrained by her life, but she never did. She encouraged me to follow my dreams, and was always my biggest champion. Don’t get me wrong, my dad was a great guy, but my greatest bond was with my mother.”

“Every family has a different dynamic. I was close to both my parents, always knew they loved me. Three younger sisters made for an estrogen-filled existence, but it didn’t bother me because I liked being the protective older brother. I missed them when they moved back east, but I had my own family to take care of.”

“You’re a born nurturer. It’s in your genes. I bet you took to fatherhood like a duck to water.”

His gut clenched. “I did, but then I had to.”

Her face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

Shit.“No, Remy, it’s okay. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He hesitated. “But you’re right about the rest. I love being a father. I got lots of practice with my sisters, and I’m grateful for that. It also helped Mira was such an easygoing baby. Balancing a sick wife and a newborn was tough, but I was able to do it. In the end, that’s all that mattered.”

“She means everything to you.”

“Until six weeks ago, she was my entire life. Sometimes I wondered if I was too involved. I tried to get her engaged in other activities, but she’s reliant on me. You and Calleigh have brought some balance to the dynamic. I promised you I’ll always treat the girls as equals—and I think I’ve done a good job. At times Mira gets a little clingy, but I use that as a chance to draw Calleigh in.”

“I was thinking we could put out the Christmas decorations tomorrow. Are you a real-tree guy, or will my family’s fake one be acceptable?”

An easy answer. “Live trees are a lot of work, and I’ll worry about the girls, so I vote for your family’s tree. We can always change things up in a few years.” He caught an expression crossing her face. “Are you okay with using your family’s decorations?”

“My mother and I would handmake a special decoration together each year. She still has all of them.” She gestured toward the containers Marnie and Olivia had located. “I was thinking we could start a tradition with the girls.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

They were doing it again. Focusing on the girls. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but there had to be times when it was adult time.

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