Playboys' Christmas Surprises. Catherine MannЧитать онлайн книгу.
and display all of Thomas’s gifts.” Courtney used her fork to slice up the asparagus before continuing. “Think of how visually appealing that will be. Think of the pictures of Thomas’s first Christmas. You only get one first Christmas, you know.”
Porter set down his crystal water goblet. “Yes, Mother, that is true, but—”
“But what? You’re not worried about the pictures. Believe me, you’ll regret that in a few years.”
Porter let out a deep sigh, and speared a piece of his medium rare steak with his silver fork. His face remained calm, but Alaina noticed the way his jaw flexed. It was a small movement but it was there and had nothing to do with eating his meal.
“So, Barry—” Alaina broke into the conversation in an attempt to let the heat fade “—have you always lived in Florida?”
“No, no. Though I have been here for forty years, so it seems funny to claim another state when I’ve acquired the Florida tan we all get from simply walking around. I’m actually from Colorado originally. Just outside of Denver. Have you ever been there?” Barry sipped his wine, eyes as keen as the cut crystal.
Such a simple question. Yet panic filled her. Had she been to Colorado? That was the tricky part about conversations with strangers.
“Oh, Barry, you can’t put Alaina on the spot like that right now.” Courtney chimed in, touching his arm. “She was a victim of a terrible car accident. She’s got a mild case of amnesia.”
Porter pinned Courtney with a glare. She merely blinked in response. Alaina’s eyes slid from Courtney to Porter. While it was true, she didn’t like the ill effects of her accident being casually brought into conversation. So she decided to take charge of this conversation.
“By mild amnesia, my mother-in-law means I’ve forgotten the past five years.” Alaina tapped her fingernail on her water glass. “Other than that, I’m fine and prefer people not treat me with kid gloves.”
“All right, then,” Barry agreed. “I can understand that—”
Courtney stopped him with another touch to the arm. “It’s just easier if people know what they are dealing with up front. They get a fact pattern and suddenly, they understand how to handle a situation.”
“Spoken like a true lawyer. Give me the facts.” Barry wheezed out a laugh.
Porter’s jaw flexed again. His disapproval of the way his mother had introduced the life-changing accident was more than apparent. Alaina could tell that any second now, he might explode, and that was the last thing she wanted or needed. Not to mention their reactions confused her. What was with all this tension? What was she missing—well, other than five years. So much of her life was confusing.
But right now wasn’t about her. It was about her husband, who was clearly upset. She reached under the table to touch his knee, squeezing lightly until he looked at her. She pleaded with her eyes and somehow he seemed to understand.
Was this what it was like to be married? Was this an almost memory, the way they could communicate without words? It felt good.
“Amnesia, huh,” Barry said between bites of his dinner. “That’s rotten luck, Alaina. I wish you a speedy recovery.”
“Thanks. I’m lucky to have such a great support system here.” It was the most diplomatic answer she could manage. She gave Porter’s knee another quick squeeze of thanks. And then returned her attention to her filet.
From the other end of the room, Thomas erupted in a gut-wrenching cry.
Alaina and Porter both sprang to their feet and rushed to the jungle-themed baby swing. She eased Thomas out and up, cradling him in her arms, rocking him back and forth. He still fussed.
“He’s hungry,” she said, glancing down at her watch. It was definitely dinnertime.
“I’ve got it.” Porter’s murmur was low, almost too soft to hear. Porter left the dining room and jogged into the kitchen. Moments later, he reemerged with a burp cloth and bottle, already a seasoned pro at this dad thing.
How long had they wanted this?
A whispery memory rippled through her mind of her looking at Porter as he held an infant swaddled in blue. But the baby boy wasn’t Thomas—somehow she knew it was the son of Porter’s CFO, the boy who was now a toddler.
Her heart ached to see the longing in his face, and then the memory faded, the rest gone. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and looked at her husband, the man still so new to her now but who had felt so familiar in the memory.
Courtney set her Waterford wineglass down on the table, half rising from her chair to get a better look at them. “Don’t you have a live-in nurse to take care of him, Porter?”
“I just want to make sure I’m there for my son and that he knows who I am.” He tested the milk on his wrist, then handed it to Alaina.
“And you are, Porter.” Courtney dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “But you hired help. So let them help. You don’t need to hover. I certainly never hovered over you and I was a single parent. I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Not when it comes to my grandson.”
“I appreciate that, Mother.” Porter’s tone was level as if he knew to keep it calm for his son, although the set of his broad shoulders made it clear his patience with his mother was nearing an end. “But I think a mix of help and hands-on work is best. Besides, we won’t use the help forever. That’s just until we’ve settled back into a routine.”
So he had been serious when he’d said the night nurse was a component of her recovery. He was sincere about being a fully involved parent. She admired that. Wanted to be part of that unit. Thomas deserved that dedication from both of them.
His mom’s counter came within seconds. “That’s where I think you might be wrong. I think the full-time help is wonderful. It really expands what you can do at the company. You know he’s in good hands. And you can work more, grow the empire and make sure he has whatever he wants in his life.”
Alaina assumed her mother-in-law’s advice was coming from a good place. But it seemed more than a tad controlling. She admired Porter’s restraint in not calling out his mom on that and wondered if he was holding back to keep things peaceful, not just for Thomas, but for Alaina, too.
Maybe this had been why she and her mother-in-law hadn’t gotten along before the amnesia. She didn’t need her memories to clue her in on that.
She just resented the way Porter’s and his mother’s issues were intruding on what had been the best day Alaina could remember having with her husband, when there were precious few to remember.
In spite of knowing there was so much of her life left to uncover, she found herself wanting more of those new memories.
* * *
He closed the door behind his mother. Finally. And not soon enough.
He’d known this was a bad idea, having his mom here for Christmas. She hadn’t ever been the home and hearth for the holidays sort, and she certainly hadn’t got along with Alaina. This wasn’t the joyous, peaceful atmosphere he’d been attempting to create with his wife. This evening was a prime example. His day with Alaina had been derailed by that damn awkward dinner.
At least Courtney was out for the evening with Barry the tax attorney. Just like that, she’d become the mother of his youth. The one who was interested in men more than family. The one who put boyfriends first.
Alaina’s misfortune was that she couldn’t remember a thing. His great curse was that he couldn’t forget a single damn moment. What a pair they made.
Cricking his neck to the side, he strode to his office computer and uploaded some videos of their Tallahassee house onto a disc for Alaina so she could see where they’d lived. Maybe that would jostle a memory. And maybe she would see her own stamp on their life in a way she hadn’t here.
He