The Mills & Boon Ultimate Christmas Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
bottles of wine for Mom and Aunt Bessie. The sudden need to be organized and make sure we didn’t forget anything calmed my nerves. It was only a fifteen-minute drive to Aunt Bessie’s, but with icy roads it would probably take twice as long to get there.
All set, we jumped in and turned the heat to high. We wove through the slushy streets, passing children bundled up in scarves, puffer jackets and mittens making snowmen in their front yards. Others tried out their new sleds, careering down long driveways and landing in a giggling heap amidst piles of snow. I smiled, remembering the excitement of Christmas as a child, waking up to find Santa had visited, discovering reindeer footprints in the snow, left by Aunt Bessie, who always made the magic real, despite whatever was going on at home.
“What are Australian Christmases like?” I asked, breaking the silence. Did his parents fuss over him, wearing beaming smiles, proud that they’d raised him right? The thought of them missing him today of all days hurt my heart.
“Hot.” He grinned and his eyes lit up as if with memories of merry Christmases. “We have a traditional lunch with turkey and all the trimmings, but we also do seafood on the barbecue, and eat outside to escape the heat in the kitchen. My parents live by the beach so we usually go for a swim at some point, and share a bottle of wine as the sun sets. It’s always a scorcher of a day. Summertime in Australia.”
“It must be so strange being here – all the snow and cold?”
He laughed. “It is, yes, but I like the change. It’s good to experience that American Christmas you see in the movies.”
We lapsed into another silence as we drove the snowy route. “I wanted to thank you, though, for inviting me to spend Christmas with your family. It means a lot, Clio.”
His gaze was intense, as if he wasn’t only thinking of my family. “They must be missing you this year,” I said, sensing he was thinking of his parents. His body stiffened slightly. Bingo. Part of me was relieved he cared; of course he cared, he was Kai after all. Maybe he just needed a push to reach out to his parents again. Someone to be the voice of reason? “Did you speak to your parents today?”
He took a full minute to answer. “No, I haven’t called yet.” He let out a sigh. “I don’t feel great about it either. I dialed so many times, and then hung up before it connected. Like, what do I say? ‘Hey, Merry Christmas! It’s your son who’s not actually your son.’” There was a bitterness to his voice, and real pain shone in his eyes. I knew he didn’t want to hurt them; he just didn’t know how to be this new Kai who’d found out he was adopted.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter as I turned a corner. What would I do in the same situation? Probably retreat too. Isn’t that what I had done when things had got too hard with my mom? Packed a suitcase and headed to New York, and I hadn’t looked back until I’d been forced to.
But I couldn’t help think that, whether Kai was related to them by blood or by love, did it really matter in the long run? Love was love, right?
“You should call them, Kai. They’re probably heartsick over it all too, you know. I don’t think it matters much what you say. Just call them, for their sake, if not your own.”
What I was picturing was my own mom, sitting at the table on Christmas Day for the last few years, missing her absent daughter. Guilt roiled inside me that I’d left her alone so long. I had left for good reason and stayed away for self-preservation, but that didn’t change the fact that I should’ve reached out sooner. While our relationship hadn’t been normal in any sense of the word, I knew she wouldn’t ever ask for help, even if she desperately needed it – and I’d simply packed up and left without so much as a backward glance. Maybe I could stop Kai doing the same thing; he shouldn’t have to live with the regret, or wishing things had turned out differently.
As it stood, I wasn’t even sure if my mom would hug me and wish me a Merry Christmas today. Her moods went up and down like a yoyo, and I was never certain how she would be. Sure, things had been getting better, but would she even look me in the eye and really see me?
Kai had dream parents, ones who’d cheered him on at his surf comps and football games, then later supported him through university, all with one goal in mind – a successful future for him. He’d told me all about them and it was hard to think they’d want anything for him but the best. Yeah, they should have probably told him he was adopted earlier – but they’d kept silent out of fear they’d lose him, and now they had.
He rubbed at his face. “I know. And I don’t want to hurt them. Really, I don’t. My silence isn’t some kind of revenge. It’s more that I’m lost about how to be, what to say. They’ll hear it in my voice. I just can’t believe I had birth parents I won’t ever get to meet. I won’t be able to see if I have the same color eyes as my dad, the same smile as my mom… you know? I am angry, and I can’t help it. I keep hoping that it’ll subside and then we can move on. But it hasn’t. What if it never does?” His voice was low and anguished and I wished I knew the right thing to say.
Houses crowded closer together the nearer we got to the town; twinkling Christmas lights flashed behind lace curtains, tinsel was strung across neat hedges, and wreaths blew sideways on front doors. Every house looked like a fully decorated gingerbread house, only on a real-life scale.
“I understand all of that, Kai. I think I’d feel the same. But I think the only way forward is to deal with it now, otherwise you’re just sweeping it under the carpet, and you of all people know how toxic that is.”
Using Kai’s philosophy against him seemed fitting. He was a big believer in letting out negative emotions, and concentrating on the positive, through breathing exercises, yoga and meditation. While I teased him relentlessly about his surfer yogi guru prowess, it really had made a difference to me, no matter how crazy doing the lotus position at midnight might have looked to an outsider. And I think he probably needed to practice what he preached, for his own sanity.
“You make it sound so easy, Clio. But how do I articulate to them how I really feel without letting my anger creep in? I know they’re hurt too. What if I make it worse? Wouldn’t it be easier to just keep silent until I work it all out?”
I considered it. Who was I to advise him anyway? I still hadn’t mended things with Mom and I was walking into Christmas keeping a secret from her. But not as big a secret as she was keeping from me. For some inexplicable reason, I felt calling his parents was the right thing for Kai to do. “I don’t know them, Kai, but I’d hazard a guess they’d prefer you yelling down the phone line than silence. At least that would be progress.” I shrugged, hoping I wasn’t wrong. “The longer you leave it, the harder it will be to bridge that gap. It doesn’t have to be all sunshine and butterflies. Just be honest, say how you feel, and go from there.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. Kai wouldn’t yell at them – he wasn’t the yelling type – but his hesitation said a lot about the black cloud hovering over him. “Maybe,” he finally said.
I gave his arm a reassuring pat, feeling like a fraud – I could dole out advice easily, but when it came to my own life I kept it bottled up tight too, not sure which way to go with my own mom.
Sensing a subject change was in order, I said, “I hope you’re hungry. Aunt Bessie has been talking up her festive donut tower, and says we’re not allowed to leave until it’s all been eaten, because…”
“They’re artisan donuts,” he finished, and we burst out laughing. Aunt Bessie took her donuts seriously and Christmas Day was no different. I expected it wouldn’t be long before we fell into some sort of sugar coma with the amount of eating that was expected at any soirée at Aunt Bessie’s. For a moment I almost regretted the second helping I’d had at breakfast, but who would ever wish away a single forkful of Cruz’s sinfully delicious berry nice Christmas pastry tree?
“If I eat any more I’ll explode,” Kai said with a grimace.
“Me too,” I laughed. “Damn Cruz for making such a huge, delicious breakfast. Let’s just hope Aunt Bessie is running