Page 40 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
“There,” she said, arranging it just so. “Now it’ll be safe until Dad comes.” She yawned suddenly, the evening’s excitementcatching up with her. “I’m going to get ready for bed, okay? Tomorrow I’m going to make Dad a special Christmas card with glitter. Lots of glitter.”
“Good idea,” Sarah said, helping Emmy out of her coat. “Need help with your pajamas?”
“I can do it,” Emmy insisted, already heading for the stairs. “I’m not a baby anymore.”
“You’ll always be my baby.” Sarah watched Emmy climb the stairs, and her heart filled with so much love for her daughter she thought it might burst.
“Tea?” Pat asked, hanging up her coat.
Sarah turned, grateful for the distraction. “Yes, please.”
Pat filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “What a wonderful evening that was,” she said, getting out mugs from the cupboard.
“It really was,” Sarah agreed, sinking into a kitchen chair. “I can’t remember the last time I saw Emmy so happy.”
Pat switched on the kettle, then came over and wrapped Sarah in an unexpected hug. “He might come,” she murmured, her arms warm and solid around Sarah’s shoulders.
Sarah looked up at her mother and smiled sadly. “I hope so, for Emmy’s sake.”
“And if he doesn’t, it’s his loss.” The kettle let out its shrill whistle, and Pat let go of Sarah and went to make the tea.
If only it were that simple. Sarah’s mom and dad had never let her down, never broken their promises. So Pat had no firsthand experience of the pain such actions could inflict on a child. Sharp, raw, lingering.
“I’m just going to go up and say goodnight to Emmy,” Sarah said, excusing herself as she fought to control her rising anger.
As she climbed the stairs, she forced herself to let it go. She refused to let Liam spoil the evening.
When Sarah entered Emmy’s room, she found her daughter already tucked in bed, her favorite stuffed penguin clutched tightly in her arms.
“All set, sweet pea?” Sarah asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Emmy nodded, her eyes already heavy with sleep. “Do you think Dad knows he has to wrap up warm?”
Sarah’s chest ached. This visit, the sleigh ride with her dad, was so important to Emmy it seemed to have eclipsed all else. “I’m sure he does. But we can always send him a text tomorrow. Okay?”
“Okay.” Emmy snuggled down in her bed. “I can’t wait.”
“I love you.” Sarah leaned forward and pressed her lips to Emmy’s forehead.
Emmy’s eyes fluttered closed. “Night, Mom. Love you, too.”
Sarah smiled down at her daughter and made a silent wish that she would have the most amazing Christmas and a wonderful life, wherever that life might take her.
Then she crept from the room and headed downstairs, where Pat had settled at the kitchen table with her tea.
“Thanks, Mom.” Sarah sat down, wrapping her hands around the warm mug to chase away the residual chill.
“So,” Pat said, a sly smile playing at her lips, “how was your moonlit walk with Michael?”
Heat rushed to Sarah’s cheeks. “It was good,” she said, taking a sip to hide her face. “He wanted to show me the view from the lookout.”
Pat’s eyebrows rose as she tried and failed to smother a smile. “Is that all?”
Sarah stared into her teacup, watching the amber liquid swirl. “I don’t think I’m ready for anything more than that.”
Pat’s smile faded, and she reached across the table to cover Sarah’s hand with her own. “Don’t let what happened between you and Liam stop you from finding love again.”
Sarah’s eyes misted with tears, and she looked away. “I won’t,” she promised. “It’s just not the right time. We’ve only just moved here, and I want to focus on Emmy. I want her to be happy.”
