I'll Be Home for Christmas Read online

  Philip had enjoyed himself, but he was exhausted and felt relieved when the party ended. He thanked the elder Mannings for having him and Mackenzie.

  “You’re welcome anytime,” Elizabeth Manning said, clasping his hand between both of her own. In what seemed an impulsive gesture, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You’d be a welcome addition to our family,” she whispered in his ear. “Just promise me one thing?”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I want a nice, big wedding,” she said, this time loudly enough for half the room to hear.

  Philip heard a murmur of approval behind him. “Ah...”

  “Thanks again, Grandma,” Carrie said, saving him from having to come up with a response.

  Carrie hugged the older couple and led the way outside. Jason, Charlotte, Doug and Dillon followed them to the driveway for a second round of hugs and farewells. This had to be one of the most outwardly affectionate families Philip had ever met, but it didn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. He liked everything about them. These were good people, hardworking and family-oriented. He’d never seen himself in that light, although it was what he wanted to be. However, neither he nor Laura had been raised that way.

  They sang Christmas carols on the drive home. Carrie’s voice blended smoothly with that of his daughter. His own was a bit rough from disuse and slightly off-key, but no one seemed to mind, least of all Mackenzie, whose happiness spilled over like fizz in a soda bottle. He parked in the garage and they walked across the street to the apartment building, still laughing and chattering excitedly.

  “I had a wonderful time,” his daughter told Carrie, hugging her close as they waited for the elevator.

  “I did, too.”

  “I’m so glad your family get-together was tonight instead of tomorrow. I’ll be with my mother, you know.”

  “I do,” Carrie said. “You’ll miss the party here, but I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Do you think Madame Frederick will made a prediction for me, even if I’m not there?”

  “I’m sure she will,” Carrie answered.

  “She’ll have to make one for me in absentia, as well,” Philip said.

  “You aren’t coming?” This news appeared to catch Carrie by surprise. She’d asked him about the Christmas party earlier and he’d managed to avoid answering one way or the other.

  “No,” he said, pushing the button to close the elevator door.

  “But I thought... I hoped...” Her disappointment was evident.

  Philip didn’t want to say anything negative, but as far as he was concerned, the majority of people living in the building complex were oddballs and eccentrics. He didn’t have anything against them, but he didn’t want to socialize with them, either.

  “Talk him into it,” Mackenzie said when the elevator stopped on Carrie’s floor.

  He wished now that he hadn’t said anything. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Carrie asked.

  What he’d like was time alone with Carrie.

  “Sure he would,” Mackenzie answered for him, and shoved him out of the elevator. The doors closed before he could respond.

  “I guess I would,” he said, chuckling.

  Carrie’s eyes shyly met his. “I was hoping you would.”

  She unlocked her door and walked inside, but he stopped her from turning on the light. With his hand at her shoulder, he guided her into his arms. “I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he whispered and claimed her lips.

  He meant it to be a soft, gentle kiss. One that would tell her he’d enjoyed her company, enjoyed their evening together. But the minute his mouth settled over hers he experienced a desire so strong it was all he could do to keep it in check. No woman had ever affected him like this. He wove his fingers into her hair and tilted her head to one side in order to deepen their kisses.

  She groaned softly. Then again, it could be the sound of his own pleasure that rang in his ears. The hot, breathless kisses went on. And on...

  “Why won’t you come to the party tomorrow night?” she asked minutes later.

  The building’s Christmas party was the last thing on Philip’s mind. He led her through the darkened living room, sat down and drew her into his lap. “Let’s talk about that later, all right?” He didn’t give her time to say anything, but directed her lips back to his.

  “Why later?” She nibbled the side of his neck, sending delicious shivers down his back.

  “I’m not sure I trust Madame Frederick.”

  She laughed and he felt her breath against his skin. “She’s completely harmless.”

  “So they say.” He placed his hands on either side of her face and brought her lips down to meet his again. The kiss was long and deep, and it left him breathless.

  “The people in this building are a bunch of oddballs. Half of them are candidates for the loony bin,” he said when he’d recovered sufficiently to speak.

  Carrie stiffened in his arms. “You’re talking about my friends.”

  “No offense,” he said. But surely she recognized the truth when she heard it.

  Carrie squirmed out of his lap and stood in front of him. “I live in this apartment complex. Is that how you think about me?”

  “No.” He sighed. “If it means so much to you, I’ll attend this ridiculous party.”

  “No, thanks,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t want you to do me any favors.”

  From her tone of voice, Philip realized he’d managed to offend her, which he regretted. Yesterday’s conversation with Gene had made him understand that she was a blessing in his life. A gift.

  A gift he wanted to accept...

  “Carrie, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

  “Is that what you really think of us, Philip?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

  He didn’t respond right away, afraid anything more he said would only make things worse.

  “That’s answer enough. I’m tired... I’d like you to leave now.”

  “Carrie, for heaven’s sake, be reasonable.”

  She stalked over to the door and opened it, sending a harsh shaft of light across his face. Philip squinted and did as she asked. “We’ll talk about this later, all right?”

  “Sure,” she said in a sarcastic murmur.

  Rather than wait for the elevator, Philip took the stairs to his apartment a floor above Carrie’s. He’d discuss this with Mackenzie, get her advice on how to handle it. Ironic that he was turning to his thirteen-year-old daughter for help with the very situation she’d engineered...

  The apartment was dark and silent when he entered. He switched on the light and walked down the hall to Mackenzie’s bedroom. Her bed was slightly mussed as if she’d sat on it.

  “Mackenzie!” he called.

  No response.

  He checked the other rooms and found a note from her on the kitchen table.

  Dad,

  Mom left me a message. She said she wouldn’t be coming for me, after all, and that I couldn’t spend the holidays with her. I guess I should’ve known she’d be too busy for me. She has time for everything else but me. I need some time alone to think.

  Mackenzie

  Nine

  Carrie didn’t understand why Philip’s comment about Madame Frederick and the others had distressed her so much. While it was true they were her friends, she couldn’t deny that they were all a bit weird. But they were also affectionate, warmhearted people and it hurt to have Philip dismiss them with such carelessness. She was still figuring out her feelings when there was a knock at the door. Whoever it was seemed impatient, because there was another knock immediately afterward.

  “Just a moment,” she called out.

  To her surprise it was Philip. “Have you seen Mackenzie?” he deman
ded.

  “Not since we returned from the party.”

  He exhaled and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Her mother left a message for her saying she won’t be bringing Mackenzie to her place for Christmas after all,” he explained.

  Carrie saw a muscle beside his jaw jerk with the effort it took to control his anger.

  “She was looking forward to spending Christmas with Laura,” he continued. “It was all Mackenzie could talk about.”

  Carrie knew that. She’d spent time with the girl, discussing her hairstyle and wardrobe for the impending visit. Mackenzie had wanted everything to be perfect for her mother. She’d wanted to impress Laura with how grown-up she was, how stylish. She’d wanted to make herself as attractive as possible, hoping her mother would notice and approve.

  “Mackenzie wrote me a note that said she needed time alone.” He checked his watch, something Carrie knew he’d probably done every five minutes since discovering the note. “That was an hour ago. Where on earth would she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Carrie whispered. Her heart constricted as she imagined the pain the girl must be suffering. These few days with Laura had meant so much to Mackenzie.

  “I thought maybe she’d come to you.” He shook his head. “I’ve tried her cell, but it’s off. I’ve called her girlfriends, but none of them have heard from her. Now I don’t know where to look. Think, Carrie.”

  “She probably doesn’t want to be around people just yet,” she murmured, trying to clear her head of worry and fear in order to be of help.

  Philip nodded. “Do you think she went for a walk? Alone in the dark?” He cringed as he said the words.

  “I’ll go out with you to look.”

  His eyes told her he was grateful. Carrie grabbed her coat and purse, and they both rushed out of the building.

  Soon after she’d graduated from high school, when Carrie was eighteen, she’d decided to seek out her father. It had been a mistake. He’d seemed to think she wanted something from him, and in retrospect, she knew she had. She’d wanted him to love her, wanted him to tell her how proud he was of the woman she’d become. It had taken her the better part of a year to realize that Tom Weston was selfish and immature and incapable of giving her anything. Even his approval.

  In the five years she’d known Jason Manning, at that point, he’d been far more of a father than her biological one would ever know how to be. She hadn’t had any contact with Tom Weston since. It had hurt that the man responsible for her birth wanted nothing to do with her, but after a few months she’d accepted his decision. If anything, she appreciated his honesty, hurtful as it’d been at the time.

  Not really knowing where they were going, they walked quickly from one spot to another, trying to guess where Mackenzie might have gone. Their fears mounted, but they both struggled to hide them. Instead, they offered each other reassurances neither believed.

  “I hate to think of her out in the cold, alone and in pain,” Philip finally murmured, his hands in his coat pockets.

  “Me, too.” The cold air stung her cheeks.

  “I could hate Laura for doing this to her,” Philip said defiantly, “but I refuse to waste the energy. She can treat me any way she pleases, but not Mackenzie.”

  Carrie knew it was pointless to remind him that he had no control over his ex-wife. Laura would behave as she chose.

  “Perhaps I should’ve said something to Mackenzie,” Philip was saying, “warned her not to count on anything her mother promised. I didn’t because, well, because I didn’t want Mackenzie to think I’d try to influence how she thinks about her mother.”

  “I find that admirable. And wise.”

  “I don’t feel either of those things just now.” His voice revealed his anger and frustration.

  “Mackenzie’s smart enough to figure out what her mother’s really like. She won’t need you or me to tell her,” Carrie said.

  His eyes met hers under a streetlamp decorated with silver bells. “I hope you’re right.”

  They searched everywhere they could think of, without success. By the time they returned home, it was almost midnight. The building was dark and silent, alarming them even more.

  “You don’t think she’d do anything stupid, do you?” a worried Philip asked. “Like run away and find her mother on her own?”

  “I...don’t know.”

  When they stepped into the lobby, Carrie noticed that the door leading to the basement party room was open. As she came closer, she could hear voices below.

  “Let’s check it out,” Philip suggested.

  Carrie followed him down the stairs. As they descended, the sound of voices became more distinct. She recognized Madame Frederick, chatting away with Arnold. Carrie guessed they were putting the finishing touches on the decorations for the Christmas party, which was to take place the following night.

  They found Mackenzie busy pinning green and red streamers in the center of the ceiling, fanning them out to the corners. The girl didn’t so much as blink when she saw Carrie and Philip.

  “Oh, hi, Dad. Hi, Carrie,” she said, climbing down from her chair.

  “Just where have you been, young lady?” Philip demanded gruffly.

  Carrie placed her hand on his arm, pleading with him to display less anger and more compassion. She felt some of the tension leave his muscles and knew it took a great deal of determination not to cross the room and hug the teenager fiercely.

  “Sorry, Dad. I forgot to tell you where I was.”

  “I’ve been searching for hours! Then Carrie helped me look. We walked through the whole neighborhood.”

  “Sorry,” Mackenzie returned contritely. “I sat in here by myself for a while, then these guys came down to decorate and—” she shrugged “—I decided to pitch in.”

  “Are you okay?” Carrie asked. “I mean, about not being able to spend the holiday with your mother?”

  Mackenzie hesitated and her lower lip trembled slightly. “I’m disappointed, but then as Madame Frederick said, ‘Time wounds all heels.’” She laughed and wiped her forearm under her nose. “Mom’s got to make her own decisions about what role I’ll play in her life. All I can do is give her the freedom to choose. I’ve got my dad and my friends.” Her gaze moved about the room, pausing on each person.

  Arnold was there with his spandex shorts and twinkling eyes. Madame Frederick with her crystal ball and her sometimes corny wisdom. Maria with her tenderhearted care for the neighborhood’s cats. And, Carrie realized, she was there, too. They were Mackenzie’s friends.

  The girl wrapped her arms around her father’s waist and hid her face in his chest. “I’ll be here for the party,” she said. “But you don’t have to come, Dad. I’ll understand.”

  “I want to come,” he said, his eyes on Carrie. He held out his hand to her and their fingers locked together. “It takes moments like this for a man to recognize how fortunate he is to be blessed with good friends.”

  Mackenzie smiled and glanced over her shoulder at Madame Frederick.

  “What did I tell you?” the older woman said, smiling just as broadly. “The crystal ball sees all.”

  “It didn’t help me decide which mutual fund to invest in,” Arnold reminded her. “And it didn’t help me pick the winning lottery numbers, either. You can take that crystal ball of yours and store it in a pile of cow manure.”

  “I told you it wouldn’t help you for personal gain,” Madame Frederick said with more than a hint of defensiveness.

  “What good is that silly thing if it doesn’t make your friends rich?”

  “It serves its purpose,” Philip surprised everyone by responding. He slid his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Now, I’d say we’ve had enough excitement for one evening, wouldn’t you?”

  Mackenzie nodded. “Nigh
t, everyone.”

  “Good night,” Arnold called.

  “Sleep well,” Madame Frederick sang out.

  “Good night, sweetie. You stop by and visit me tomorrow, you hear?” Maria said.

  “I will,” Mackenzie promised.

  Carrie left with Philip and his daughter. “I’m baking cookies for the party in the morning,” she said when the elevator reached her floor.

  “Do you need any help?” Mackenzie asked eagerly. “You won’t have to worry about eggshells getting in the dough this time.”

  “I’d love it if you came by.”

  Content that all was well, Carrie entered her apartment and got ready for bed. As she slipped on her nightgown, the phone rang. It was Philip.

  “I know I was with you less than ten minutes ago, but I wanted to thank you.”

  “For what? I didn’t do anything.” She’d shared his helplessness in searching for Mackenzie, his frustration and anger.

  “You helped me find my daughter—in more ways than one.”

  “No, your love for her did that.”

  “I was wrong about your friends.”

  She’d wondered how long it would take him to admit that.

  “They’re as terrific as you are.” He paused. “Not spending time with her mother was a big blow to Mackenzie. She was devastated when Laura put her off once again. I don’t know what Madame Frederick really said, but it was obviously what Mackenzie needed to hear. For all her strangeness, Madame has good instincts about people.”

  “You’re a fast learner.”