Page 31 of Christmas Homecoming Secrets
“She couldn’t sleep,” Jade’s father said from the kitchen door. “She kept waking Jessica up, so I brought her over here.”
“Couldn’t sleep? Why not?”
Mia patted the couch, and Jade understood that she was to sit next to her daughter. “Lolly told me about your friend. I was sad for you.”
In spite of her resolution not to cry, Jade’s throat tightened once more, and she slid her arm around her child to pull her snug against her side. Mia rested her head on Jade’s shoulder. “Thank you,” Jade said. “I’m sad, too. And I’m sorry I broke my promise to decorate the tree tonight.”
“It’s okay. We can do it tomorrow.”
“You’re the best, kiddo.”
“I know.”
Jade almost smiled at the child’s uncomplicated self-esteem. “But you need to go to bed.”
“I don’t have school tomorrow, you know.”
“That’s a good thing, because you’d fall asleep and bruise your head on your math book.”
“We don’t have math books, silly. We have papers.” Mia yawned. “Jessica’s mad at you, though.”
“Why? Because of the Christmas tree?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll talk to Jessica. She’ll be all right.”
“’Kay.”
The girl was almost asleep, her little body relaxing into Jade’s with each passing second. With effort, ignoring her aches and pains, Jade carried Mia to her room and tucked her in with a kiss to her forehead. Then she sighed.
She hated breaking her promise. Most days she was home when she said she was going to be, but every once in a while she had days like today, and it meant changing or postponing plans. Mia had learned to roll with it, but Jessica and Gage hadn’t. If her parents wound up adopting them, they’d learn their big sister sometimes had to change plans. It was disappointing, but not the end of the world. Still, with their background, it might seem like she was just another adult not to be trusted. What a fine line to have to walk.
Back in her small den area, she found her dad scrolling on his phone. He was a handsome man in his midfifties. And while his hair had turned gray around his ears and he had a few wrinkles around his eyes, he still looked much like he had when he’d walked down the aisle with Jade’s mother thirty years ago. He glanced up when she entered and tucked his phone into his pocket. “I’m sorry about Frank, hon.”
“Thank you. Me too.” She rubbed the back of her neck with a groan. “It’s been a very long day.”
He walked over to massage her shoulders. “You’re wound up tighter than a spring, kiddo.”
“I’m sure.” She dropped her chin to her chest. “Mia mentioned my friend. Mom didn’t tell the kids who it was?”
“No.” He dropped his hands. “Just that you had a friend who was hurt and had to go help.”
“I see.” She rubbed her eyes. She’d have to tell them. They knew and loved Frank and would wonder why he wasn’t coming around anymore.
“Heather didn’t want to come stay with you?” he asked. “With us?”
“No. I tried to get her to come and even told her I’d stay at her place, but she said she was going to stay with her mother tonight, and then at Frank’s house—what was supposed to betheirhouse—after the crime scene people do their thing and release it. She said she needed to be with her mom, to process and grieve.” Jade bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t understand it. I talked to Frank on a weekly basis, sometimes more, and I never knew he was doing something this dangerous.”
“Probably didn’t tell you because he was afraid you’d tell Heather.”
“Maybe.” She shook her head. “He took Mia and the twins to his niece’s birthday party two weeks ago. Were they in danger when they were with him? Would he have risked that?”
Her father took her hands. “No, honey, you know Frank. He wouldn’t have put those kids in danger. Not knowingly.”
She pulled away from him and looked at the ceiling as though she might find the answers written there.
A gasp pulled her gaze back to her father. He was staring at her throat. “What happened to you?”
