Mommy will help me make one,” Davy said, a worried frown puckering his brow. “Henry can write his own. He knows how.”
“I know. He’s a very smart young man,” Mick said, giving the older boy a wink. “Why wait, though? If you ask your mother for a piece of paper, maybe I can help you now.”
Davy’s eyes immediately brightened. “Really?”
“Sure. I’ve written many a letter to Santa over the years.”
After Davy had run off, Mick beckoned for Henry to come closer. “Are you so sure Santa doesn’t exist?”
“I knew better when I was seven,” he said sadly. “I told him all I wanted was for my daddy to get better, but he hasn’t. He’s still sick. He can’t take care of me anymore.”
Henry’s biological father was an alcoholic whose liver had been severely damaged by the disease. That’s why Shanna, who’d only briefly been his stepmother, had been given custody after negotiating the arrangement with Henry’s father and grandparents. Now Kevin had legally adopted him, as well. At the same time Shanna had formally adopted Davy, whose biological mom had died while serving in Iraq. They were the ultimate modern family, pieced together by love.
“But your dad still loves you very much,” Mick assured Henry. “That’s why he’s agreed to let you be with Shanna and Kevin, so you’ll have the kind of life you deserve. Maybe that’s the gift that Santa meant for you—the gift of a new family, plus your old one. You’re very lucky to have so many people who love you.”
Henry pondered that in the serious little way he had, then nodded. “I suppose.”
“So maybe Santa would bring you something special this Christmas if he knew you still believed in him. Why not get a piece of paper and take a chance?” Mick coaxed.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Henry said, his eyes suddenly brimming with hope.
“Go then and bring your paper back here. I’ll see that Santa gets your letter and Davy’s.”
“Thanks, Grandpa Mick.”
As he scampered off, Abby settled into the chair opposite him.
“So much for finding a refuge in here,” he muttered with a resigned sigh.
“I have a message from Mom,” she said.
Mick’s stomach knotted with dread. “Oh?”
“She says if she doesn’t hear from you very, very soon, the wedding’s off.”
“Now, what kind of message is that to be sending through you?” Mick blustered.
“The kind sent by a frustrated woman who’s losing patience,” Abby assessed. “Now that I’ve delivered it, I’m taking the girls next door for lunch. You’re welcome to join us.”
“I have letters to Santa to oversee,” he said. “And then I’ve a phone call to make.”
She patted his hand. “Good decision.”
Mick wondered about that, because right this second he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to Megan that wouldn’t wind up with her not just postponing their wedding, but canceling it.
Mick had tucked the boys’ letters to Santa into his pocket and sent them off for naps when Kevin appeared. Apparently he was taking over for his wife while she dealt with settling the boys upstairs in the apartment where she’d lived before marrying Kevin. She’d kept it so the kids could be cared for close by while she worked in the store.
“So, Dad, what’s going on between you and Connor?” Kevin asked point-blank, studying him intently.
“Who says there’s anything going on?” Mick replied defensively. “You saw the way he stormed out of the house. He’s not happy about your mother and me remarrying.”
“I know that, but when I spoke to him the other day and suggested he come down and go fishing today, he mumbled some kind of ridiculous excuse that didn’t make a bit of sense. I reminded him I needed his help to get the boat ready for the lighted boat parade the first weekend in December, and he blew that off, too.”
“Maybe he’s busy,” Mick suggested. “He’s working hard to make partner at the law firm, and he probably spends a lot of his spare time with that woman he’s been seeing.”
Kevin looked surprised. “You know about Heather?”
Mick brightened. “Is that her name?”
Kevin frowned at him. “You were just taking a stab in the dark, weren’t you, you sneaky old man? You had no idea he was dating anyone.”
“He’s a good-looking, successful young man. I never thought he was living the life of a monk.”
“But you didn’t know about any specific woman,” Kevin persisted.
“Nope,” Mick confirmed with a satisfied grin. “So, how serious is it?”
“Ask Connor.” Kevin’s expression turned sly. “Or aren’t the two of you speaking?”
“Now who’s resorting to guesswork?”
“I wouldn’t need to, if either one of you would give me a straight answer. Dad, if marrying Mom is going to come between you and Connor, maybe you should rethink it.”
“You’d have me put my life on hold because any one of you can’t be an adult and accept that I know exactly what I’m doing?” Mick asked incredulously.
“Look, Mom and I are getting along okay now, but I’ve had time to reconcile the perspective I used to have with the realities of what actually happened back then,” Kevin said, his tone reasonable. “Connor’s not had enough time, plus he’s even more hard-headed than you or I on our bad days. Why not have a spring wedding? Mom can walk along the pathway that’s lined with all those lilies of the valley she planted. It’ll be beautiful.”
“I am not waiting until spring just so your brother can make peace with this. If he knows he has that kind of power over the two of us, he’ll find some other way to force us to postpone that date. Years could go by while he manipulates the situation. In case you haven’t noticed, neither your mother or I are getting any younger.”
“I wouldn’t suggest you use Mom’s advancing age as an excuse for pressing ahead with a New Year’s Eve wedding,” Kevin said with a grin.
Mick scowled at him. “Of course not. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Sometimes you do say things without thinking through the consequences,” Kevin said. “Something tells me that’s what happened with Connor.” He studied Mick intently. “Is that it, Dad? Did you back him into a corner?”
“We’ll work it out,” Mick said. “That’s what O’Briens do. We work things out.”
“Unless those things you’re talking about happen to be between you and Uncle Jeff or you and Uncle Thomas,” Kevin said knowingly.
