It had been so long since she attended a Kiptohanock Christmas boat parade.
“Unless...” He deflated. “You’re tired. I can take you home first. Or if you think it’s a bad idea—”
“Are you kidding?” She lifted her chin. “I wouldn’t miss seeing Oscar’s face for the world.”
He smiled that slow, lopsided smile of his. Setting off an unfamiliar seismic reaction in her heart.
This was about the children, she reminded herself. Sternly. “Operation Christmas, Phase One, right?”
“Exactly.” He rubbed his palms together. “This is going to be fun. Get ready for the Christmas of your life.”
And she had the feeling that somehow it would be—maybe in more ways than she could yet imagine.
Thirty minutes later, Ryan parked outside the seedy, run-down motel. Only the neon sign relieved the darkness of the night.
Anna’s frown reflected his own misgivings. “Oscar lives here?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so.” Ryan got out of the car. “But this is where his mother told me to pick him up.”
Anna unbuckled her seat belt.
He frowned. “I don’t want you going into a place like this, but I also don’t want to leave you here while I go inside.”
Anna got out of the car. “I’m not worried.” She smiled. “I feel safe with you.”
She’d always made him feel safe, too. Safe to be himself.
An inebriated couple lurched out of the entrance. Tensing, Ryan placed himself between Anna and them. But the pair headed deeper into the shadows of the parking lot, and Ryan slipped Anna inside the motel lobby.
Only a small lamp on the front desk relieved the gloominess. The carpet reeked of cigarette smoke and something else he preferred not to identify. Behind the desk, a young girl glared.
At a scuttling sound low to the floor, Anna shrank into him. Her grip on his arm became a stranglehold.
“Maybe it’s a good thing there’s not more lighting.”
Anna grimaced. “Because if we could see what was moving, we’d be really scared?”
The girl at the desk curled her stud-pierced lip. “Can I help you?”
She wasn’t as young as he’d first believed. Early twenties. His youngest sister Tessa’s age. But it was her eyes that snared his attention. Blue chips of hopelessness. Her ash-blond hair was his first clue she might be Oscar’s mother.
The woman’s hands gripped the edge of the counter. “You want the hourly rate?”
“No.” He stiffened. “We’re not—”
“Are you Oscar’s mother?” Anna stepped around him. “Mrs. Ericson?”
The woman’s features hardened. “Never been married. It’s Miz Ericson.” Her eyes narrowed. “Though nobody’s ever called me that, either.”
She didn’t offer her given name, but Anna smiled. “I’m Anna Reyes. One of Oscar’s teachers in the after-school program.”
He shouldn’t have brought Anna here. She didn’t belong in a place like this. Ryan’s gaze flickered. Nobody belonged in a place like this.
The young woman assessed him with laser sharpness. “You the teacher who called here?”
He cleared his throat. “I called the only number listed in Oscar’s file.”
“Yeah, well...” The young woman gave an elaborate shrug. Her shirt rose, revealing a navel ring.
“We hoped we might take Oscar to see the boat parade tonight,” Anna broke in. “If that’s okay with you?”
“I told you to come, didn’t I?”
At one time the young woman might’ve been pretty. But life had not been kind to her. And he was overcome with doubt.
What had he been thinking? Taking a kid to a Christmas parade was just a bandage on a larger problem. The issues facing this family were complex. He was in over his head.
Making an excuse was on the tip of his tongue. But the memory of Oscar’s pinched face wouldn’t leave him. And instead of exiting, Ryan found himself going in deeper. “We might also stop by McDonald’s afterward if you don’t mind, Ms. Ericson.”
In her eyes, a desperate gratitude battled with an overwhelming shame. “It’s Brittany. And that would be nice of you.” She blinked and looked away. “Oscar hasn’t had a Happy Meal in a long time.” She leaned behind the front desk. “Oscar? Wake up, son.”
Ryan and Anna exchanged glances. Oscar was sleeping behind the front desk on the filthy floor?
“Your teachers are here, Oscar. Wake up. Remember, I told you they were coming?”
His sleep-rumpled blond head emerged. A floppy-eared stuffed elephant that had seen better days was carefully tucked in the crook of his elbow. His mother drew him out from behind the counter.
She smoothed the cowlick on his head. “You’re gonna love the pretty lights.” Bending to his height, she fished a coin out of her jeans pocket and thrust a quarter at her son. “Take this. In case you need it. Don’t be no trouble for your teachers.”
Oscar hugged Anna’s knees so hard she staggered. “I’m so happy to see you, Miz Reyes.” Anna hugged him back.
His mother straightened. Red peppered her cheeks. “No need to hurry him home.” Her mouth thinned on the last word. “It gets busy around here when darkness falls.”
An awkward silence descended. That was their cue to leave.
“Bye, Mama.” Oscar waved.
Holding the door, Ryan cast one final glance over his shoulder. Just in time to see Brittany’s hard, brittle shell crack for a moment as a single tear ran down her cheek.
* * *
On the way to the holiday flotilla, Anna found herself singing alongside Bing Crosby’s rendition of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” on the radio.
From the back seat booster Ryan had borrowed, Oscar hummed along, not really knowing the words. “This is gonna be the funnest night ever, Mister Sabbage.”
Ryan’s eyes cut to the rearview mirror. “Yes, it is, Oscar. The best.”
As they drove into town, Kiptohanock did indeed look a lot like Christmas. Sitting high in the seat, Oscar made little sounds of happiness at the sight of the decorated homes. Anna glanced over at Ryan.
He was a special man to have taken on something like this to bring Christmas joy to a needy kid like Oscar. Her respect for her old friend grew.
Ryan pulled into an empty space in the cafe parking lot. “Let me unbuckle Oscar first, then I’ll come around for you.”
“Not necessary, Ryan.”
He gave her a teacher look over the rim of his glasses. “How about letting a guy be a gentleman, Anna Banana?”
Childish laughter erupted from the back seat. “She’s not a banana, Mister Sabbage.”
“Thanks for setting me straight, Oscar.” His mouth twitched. “What about it, Miz Reyes?”
“Fine.” She held up her palm. “Whatever you say, Mister Sabbage.”
He flashed her a quick grin—his hunky demeanor like