He cast a glance at the girl’s mother. Unlike the previous woman, this one was filled with pride in her daughter. If the look on the mother’s face was any indication, the little girl would get everything she dreamed of for Christmas.
An image of a boy with a mop of blond hair, bright blue eyes and a smattering of freckles came to mind. Daniel thought of what Jason’s Christmas would’ve been like if he hadn’t agreed to sponsor him. He was glad it was a rhetorical question. He’d guarantee the kid wasn’t disappointed.
Forgetting all about his electric shaver refills, Daniel consulted the mall directory and headed to a toy store.
A couple of hours later, carrying numerous shopping bags, he entered a hobby store. He was hopeful he’d be able to tick the toy train off his list, too. Finding the appropriate section, he stacked his bags in an out-of-the-way corner so his hands would be free. He began to examine the various toys neatly arranged on the shelves.
He picked up and examined a locomotive, then a caboose. He was fascinated by the perfectly crafted miniature pieces, but there were so many of them. When he was a child, his parents had encouraged him to play with educational toys. He’d never had anything as frivolous—or as much fun—as a train set. Perhaps because of that, he wanted to make this a special gift for Jason, but he had no idea where to start.
“May I help you?” Daniel nearly jumped when he heard the pleasant, cheerful voice behind him. He carefully replaced the caboose on the shelf and turned to see a lovely dark-skinned young woman with short, springy hair and an eager-to-help expression on her face.
Generally not one to ask for assistance, at this moment he considered the young woman a godsend. “If you know about trains, yes, I beg you to help me!”
“It’s not my specialty, but I’d be happy to see what I can do. Are you interested in a particular piece or a set?”
The kid had asked for a toy train, but Daniel wanted to do more. “A set, I think.” He gave her a grateful smile. “Something special.”
After a brief discussion, the sales associate advised Daniel that the complexity of the set he was considering was beyond her level of expertise and said she’d fetch the owner of the store. With the owner’s assistance, Daniel decided on a deluxe electric train set. He knew it was over the top, but somehow his own childhood’s unfulfilled desire had become entangled with the kid’s wish, and Daniel couldn’t resist. He hoped Jason would be as excited about it as he was.
The challenge was that the set had to be custom manufactured, and the company was already backed up with orders. When Daniel shared Jason’s story with the owner of the shop, the man made a firm commitment that he’d do whatever needed to be done and personally guaranteed that Daniel would have the train set in time for Christmas.
Another hour later and still without the shaver refills, Daniel was loading shopping bags into the trunk of his car. Doing a quick scan of his doors, he was grateful for small blessings that his car appeared to be undamaged. Shopping malls, especially during the hustle and bustle of the holidays, tended to put him in a sour mood. Yet he found his disposition decidedly brighter than it had been when he’d left the office. He paused. Had he ever been this happy and excited about Christmas?
At home, he took all the parcels into a spare bedroom. Despite his growling stomach reminding him that he hadn’t had dinner, he unpacked the gifts. He read labels, examined assembly instructions and realized he felt like a kid himself.
He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to leave for Newport to visit his parents the week before Christmas. At the thought of spending a whole ten days with his family, he nearly shuddered—and immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his parents. There just wasn’t any warmth in the relationship. Not like the depiction on the billboard across from his office.
He’d visit his parents. He was too much of a dutiful son not to. He’d spend the weekend, but he’d make excuses and return home before Christmas. That way, he’d be in Hartford to finish shopping for Jason—not that he hadn’t already covered everything on the list—and he’d make the most of the holidays on his own.
CHELSEA SAT ON a chair in Paige’s living room, one leg dangling over its arm. She was dressed in her favorite color—black leggings, thick black socks and an oversize black sweater. Jason was sprawled on the carpet, reading a book. Paige was curled up on the sofa, her legs tucked under her. In contrast to Chelsea’s dark, she was light. She wore faded jeans and a white long-sleeved T-shirt, and her blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a high ponytail.
Her friend studied her while munching on a carrot stick. “You look about eighteen, you know, with your perfect skin and that ponytail.”
Paige flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. “I think that’s a stretch, but thanks for the compliment.”
Bobby Helms’s “Jingle Bell Rock” started to play on the radio.
“Can you believe it’s only a couple of weeks until Christmas?” Chelsea exclaimed. “What are you guys doing this year?”
Paige glanced down at her son just as he turned his head and smiled up at her. “Jason and I discussed it. Although it would be great to be with Mom and Dad, we decided to spend Christmas here.”
Jason pushed up into a sitting position and crossed his legs. “Yeah. That way I won’t get as tired, ’cause I’ll need all my energy for my next treatment right after Christmas.”
Paige looked back at Chelsea. “The doctors timed his second treatment as far before the holidays as possible to make sure he’d feel the best he could for Christmas. But it means he’ll get the following one on December 27.”
Chelsea nodded in sympathy. “Bummer about not seeing your grandparents though, huh, Squirt?”
Jason lowered his eyes. “That’s okay. I wanted to, but Gramps doesn’t really remember me most of the time,” he murmured, then brightened. “Besides, we can see you and Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and Mr. Weatherly! You can all come over, and we can have hot chocolate and play games and stuff!”
Chelsea swung her leg to the floor and shifted in the chair. “Actually, I won’t be here for Christmas. I’m taking Joel to spend the holidays with my parents in North Carolina. Things are getting serious enough that it’s time they met him. We’ll be gone from just before Christmas until the second of January.” Chelsea shrugged apologetically. “Mrs. Bennett mentioned yesterday that they’d be spending Christmas with their daughter, her husband and the grandkids.”
Jason looked crestfallen.
“Sorry, Squirt,” Chelsea said. “At least Mr. Weatherly will be here.”
A tap at the door had Jason scrambling to answer it. As if on cue, Mr. Weatherly stood in the doorway, holding a small plant, its pot wrapped in shiny red paper.
“Well, hello, Mr. Weatherly.” Paige rose to greet her next-door neighbor. Harrison Weatherly was a very proper, middle-aged English gentleman. He was dressed, as always, as though he was off to have tea with the Queen. Today he wore gray tweed pants with an impeccable crease, a perfectly pressed white shirt, a black knit vest and a maroon bow tie. Paige knew he’d never been married and—because a young lady in his youth had broken his heart—he liked to boast that he was a confirmed bachelor. He didn’t have family in the United States. It struck Paige that he seemed lonely. Gardening was his passion, and he made the most of the small outdoor space that came with his ground-floor