“Can I stay here? I want to be near you. And I like the tree and the fire.”
Erica liked the tree and the fire, too. Like the rest of the inn, Hattie had turned her own living accommodation into a sanctuary. She seemed to think she’d added little to the inn, that it was all down to Brent, but it seemed to Erica that her mark was everywhere.
Hattie was patient. “If you don’t go to bed, you’ll be tired.”
“I don’t like my bed.” Delphi’s arms tightened around her neck. “I want to sleep in your bed.”
From the flush on Hattie’s cheeks, Erica assumed that happened a lot.
Erica had never been allowed to sleep anywhere but her own bed. If she was sick, or had a bad dream, her mother would sit with her for a while but she would never allow Erica to curl up next to her, and on the few occasions Erica had crawled into her bed in the night, hoping to remain undetected, her mother had immediately lifted her and carried her back to her own room.
“You’re fine right here,” she would whisper. “If you feel lonely, all you have to do is think comforting thoughts.”
Out of nowhere Erica thought about Jack. About the last time they were together. He’d suggested staying, and she’d been the one to remind him that that wasn’t what they did. That wasn’t how their relationship worked. He hadn’t argued, and she’d watched him dress, pulling on his discarded clothes and shrugging his broad shoulders into his wool coat. It was what she’d wanted—wasn’t it what they both wanted?—but the moment the door of her apartment had closed behind him she’d felt bereft. As if she’d lost something important. Which was ridiculous, because she’d been sleeping through the night on her own since she was an infant. She didn’t need anyone else in her bed to be happy. For the first time in her adult life she’d had to try to find comforting thoughts, but they’d proved elusive.
There was a tap on the door and Hattie sighed and settled Delphi on the sofa next to Erica. “Stay there while I see who that is.” She hurried to the door and Erica heard low voices and then Hattie returned looking stressed.
“That was Chloe. One of the guests has a question I need to deal with.” She crouched down in front of Delphi. “I need to go and help someone. Will you stay here with Aunt Erica? I’ll be quick.”
Erica almost looked over her shoulder to see who else was in the room, but then realized she was Aunt Erica.
It was an uncomfortable thought.
She’d always refused to be Aunt Erica to Anna’s children, but she could hardly object this time, could she? Technically, she was Delphi’s aunt.
Hattie shot her a look of apology. “Do you mind watching her for a moment? I won’t be long. She’s so sleepy she’ll probably crash out. I’ll carry her to bed when I’m back.” There was a soft throw over the arm of the sofa and she tucked it around Delphi. “Close your eyes.”
Delphi closed her eyes, scrunching them up tightly.
“I’ll be just a few minutes.” Hattie grabbed her phone and left the room.
Delphi opened her eyes. “Do you like sharks?”
“I—it’s not something I’ve ever thought about.”
“I like sharks. My favorite shark is a hammerhead. Do you know how many sleeps there are until Santa comes?”
“No. I haven’t counted.”
“It’s sixteen.”
“Oh.” Erica blinked. “Well, thank you.”
“If you don’t go to bed at all on Christmas Eve, it’s fifteen. But if you’re awake, Santa might not come so you have to pretend to be asleep.”
Was she supposed to know all this? She found herself suffering from a major attack of imposter syndrome.
She had virtually no experience with children. Unlike Anna, she wasn’t one of those people who loved children just because they were children. In her opinion children were like any other humans. They had to earn her respect and friendship. Anna’s children were different, not only because they’d turned into interesting people, but also because Erica saw them as an extension of Anna and Pete, whom she already loved.
To steer the conversation onto more familiar ground she thought of the most safe, generic question possible. “Do you know what you’d like for Christmas, Delphi?”
“I’d like a sled. A small one is fine, and also one of Panther’s kittens, but a pet is a big responsibility—” She stumbled over the word, clearly reciting something she’d been told. “You have to care for it and love it always, not just when you feel like it. And you have to feed it and keep it warm and if it’s sick you have to take it to the vet. Also, you have to clean up poop. It’s a lot of work.”
“That’s true.” Erica was reminded of all the reasons she’d chosen never to have a pet.
“You can’t change your mind and give it back, so you have to be sure. And we already have Rufus. My daddy chose Rufus when he was a tiny puppy and now he’s one of the family and he’s ours forever and ever.”
The mention of her father was so natural it was obvious that she and Hattie talked about him frequently.
Erica was thinking about that, and the difference with her own mother’s approach, when she realized Delphi had asked her a question. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”
“Would you like one of Panther’s kittens?”
“Me?”
“Yes. I can’t have one right now. You could have one, but you’d have to be sure because if you’re not sure you can’t have a pet.”
Erica’s head was spinning. “Right.” She definitely wasn’t sufficiently briefed for this conversation. She would rather have sat in front of an auditorium of CEOs. “I definitely can’t have one of Panther’s kittens, but thank you for thinking of me.”
“There’s something else I want for Christmas but it can’t be bought and it can’t be wrapped.” Delphi lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I would like Noah to live here. With us. But I’m not sure Santa can fix that. Do you know?”
“Do I know what?”
“If Santa can fix for Noah to live with us?”
Erica knew nothing about Santa, and she knew nothing about Noah, but she did know when she was in over her head. “Santa’s job description is not one of my areas of expertise.” She could imagine Anna frowning at her for that response and made a valiant attempt to do better. “You seem to like Noah a lot.”
“Yes. He’s funny and kind. Rufus likes him. And Mommy is always happy when he is here, although sometimes she drops things.”
“She drops things?”
“Yes. Yesterday she dropped a glass when he walked into the room. Last week she dropped Rufus’s food. But it didn’t matter because he ate it anyway.” Delphi studied her with frank interest. “What do you ask him for?”
“Who?”
“Santa. When you wrote your letter. What did you ask him for? If it’s a secret, you don’t have to tell me.”
Erica shifted in her chair. “I haven’t written to Santa.”
“Why not?”