target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_413dec80-706d-551f-b9cc-aac5cde62784">CHAPTER FOUR
PAIGE WAS RELIEVED that the nasty weather held off during her drive home. Emotionally and physically drained, she didn’t think she was up to coping with treacherous road conditions. A couple of blocks from home, she pulled into a gas station and filled up the Honda. The least she could do was return it to Chelsea with a full tank.
She parked it in Chelsea’s assigned spot, retrieved her overnight bag and headed inside. None too soon, as the first flakes of snow started to fall.
She dropped her bag inside the door to embrace Jason, who rushed into her arms. She held him tight and breathed in the baby powder fragrance of his shampoo. If there was a better feeling than holding her son, she couldn’t imagine it.
Mrs. Bennett joined them by the door. Paige understood the silent support in her eyes and knew she wouldn’t ask how things had gone with Jason in the room. She thanked Mrs. Bennett for taking care of her son.
“No trouble at all, my dear. We enjoyed ourselves. Jason, make sure you show your mother what you’ve been working on.”
Jason did just that after Paige had put her things away. He’d painted a winter scape with a large snowman that looked a lot like Frosty.
“See?” He thrust out a printout of a photo. “It’s the snowman Chelsea and I built!”
Paige examined the photo, then the painting again. The likeness was undeniable. Her son had a remarkable talent. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “You had a nice time while I was gone?”
“Yeah, Chelsea took the picture that I used for the painting,” he replied, but the light in his eyes had dimmed.
Paige stroked his hair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“I was sick, Mom. Like before.”
She immediately placed her palm on his forehead, checking for fever. Since Jason had started his treatments a few days earlier, they were both adjusting to the cyclical swings in his health. “How are you feeling now?”
“Better. Mrs. Bennett took my blood pressure, too. She said it was fine. She wrote it down in your journal.”
Paige looked over the notes in the journal she kept of Jason’s health. With relief, she saw that everything seemed okay now.
He’d always had a hard time immediately after a treatment, especially with the nausea, but got progressively better. She knew from experience that the second week after a treatment was generally good for him. Of course, as the cycle progressed, the effects built up and he felt increasingly worse, particularly right after the treatments. Paige not only accompanied him when the new cancer drug was administered, but tried her best to stay home with him the day or two after, when he was feeling the worst. He was already missing a lot of school because of his various appointments.
She was very grateful for her friends in the building—Chelsea, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and her next-door neighbor, Mr. Weatherly. She could count on one or another of them to help out if she found herself in a bind.
The reality was that Jason needed her, and her whole world was Jason. Nothing mattered more than making his life easier and taking care of him when he was unwell.
Paige accepted this, and she had no complaints—if only Jason could be healthy again.
* * *
JUST THREE WEEKS before Christmas, and it had been one of those days, Daniel Kinsley thought as he let himself into his house. If his initial consult with a potential new client was any indication, there was another nasty divorce battle brewing. And she was young. In her twenties. She and her husband hadn’t been married a full year!
They were using the standard “irreconcilable differences” argument. Did they even know what that meant in legal terms?
He’d finally gotten rid of Gloria Farnsworth. He’d transferred her case to one of his partners. The firm didn’t want to lose the revenue they could generate if she did take her husband to court and there was a protracted legal battle. But now he had “Farnsworth lite” to contend with.
As dissatisfying as his work continued to be, there was one bright spot for Daniel. It had to do with a little boy named Jason.
Daniel had made his decision to sponsor Jason the day he’d spoken to Laura Andrews, but he hadn’t had a chance to confirm it.
He sent Laura a quick email, letting her know his decision. By the time he’d fixed himself a Crown and Coke, set a fire in the fireplace in his home office and gone back to his laptop, she’d already emailed him a scanned copy of Jason’s handwritten wish list. He chuckled as he printed it.
Daniel perused the list while he sat by the fire and sipped his drink. Much like the lists provided by the other families, Jason’s consisted of basic items—winter clothes, a stuffed dog, a backpack for school, a sketch pad, a New England Patriots cap, a toy train and a book about circuses. Circuses—huh! Daniel remembered his own fascination with circuses when he was a kid, but they were more popular then. It was different now. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard of one in the area. He wondered how the kid had developed an interest in circuses and felt a sudden connection with this boy he’d never met.
Daniel was particularly struck by the last item printed neatly at the bottom of the page.
Jason wanted to be a “normal” boy. What would that mean to a kid like him? To be healthy? To have a father?
Daniel stared long and hard at the list and the little boy’s meticulously neat printing. Daniel might not be able to make Jason’s last wish come true, but he resolved to take care of all the others on the list—and more.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY was no better for Daniel. By six-thirty, he’d had enough. After another discussion with his new twenty-something client, he’d hung up the phone, packed his briefcase and left the office. He hadn’t planned to stop at Westfarms Mall. He just wanted to get home, have a light dinner and catch up on his paperwork. But as he was approaching the New Britain Avenue exit off I-84 W, he remembered that he needed refills for his electric shaver. He took the exit, regretting that decision as soon as he saw the packed parking lot. Who said there was anything wrong with the economy? Based on how full the lot was, half the population of Hartford must’ve decided to go shopping.
He hated crowds. That was one of the reasons he tried to avoid malls, especially at this time of year.
Well, he was here. If he could find a parking spot, he might as well brave the crowds. They certainly wouldn’t decrease as the days before Christmas flew by. He reluctantly squeezed his Mercedes coupe into a tight spot between two hulking SUVs. He entered the mall by one of the main doors leading into an atrium. Jewel-toned Christmas lights shone everywhere. Children’s laughter and the occasional wail mingled with the buzz of shoppers, all layered over traditional Christmas music. The smell of greasy fries and overcooked burgers wafted over to him from the nearby food court.
The atrium was filled with people, many of them kids. As he made his way in, he realized why. At the far end of the atrium, a very convincing Santa sat on his throne, surrounded by a half dozen elves. What person in his or her right mind would wear those green outfits with the green-and-black-striped tights and still be able to smile about it?
He couldn’t say what compelled him, but he stopped to watch.
Santa had a little boy who couldn’t have been more than five sitting on his lap. The boy was hunched in on himself and kept glancing with pleading eyes toward his mother at the side of the dais. Daniel felt for the kid. He looked painfully uncomfortable, but the mother seemed oblivious. She was preoccupied with capturing the perfect shot of him with Santa.
Daniel hadn’t noticed how tense he’d become watching the poor kid until he heard his own breath hiss out when the kid was finally allowed to slide off Santa’s lap. Was that how it had been for him when he was a boy?
Daniel was