“Well, because—” What was she supposed to say? If she was sticking to the truth then she’d say that there had never been a time when she’d believed in Santa. Her mother hadn’t believed in sugarcoating life. Santa had been a fantasy figure, along with the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. Also, in her mother’s case, men who knew about responsibility. But it wasn’t her place to ruin Delphi’s fantasy. “I’m sure he is busy. And I can’t think of anything I need.”
“Do you have a dog?”
“No, I don’t have a dog. I don’t have pets.”
Delphi wrinkled her nose. “If you promise Santa that you’d care for it really well forever, you could ask for a dog.”
If she hadn’t known better Erica would have thought the child was in league with Anna.
“I’m away from home a lot so it wouldn’t be fair to have an animal. I’m sure Santa would agree.”
Delphi snuggled deeper into the sofa, deep in thought. “Are you really my aunt?”
“Yes, I’m really your aunt.” It was a relief to be moving away from the topic of Santa.
“I’ve never had an aunt.” Delphi rested her chin on the dinosaur’s soft head. “What does an aunt do?”
Assuming that no idea wasn’t an acceptable answer, Erica rooted around for something that might work. “Well, I—”
“You don’t know, do you?” Delphi cuddled the dinosaur. “That’s okay. Mommy always says it’s okay not to know, but you always have to say so.”
Erica gave the same advice on a regular basis to her senior executives. “That’s wise advice.”
“If you like, we can figure it out together.”
“Oh—well, that sounds like a good idea to me.” Erica looked at the tangled golden curls and the big eyes and felt something shift inside her. “What would you like an aunt to do?”
Delphi curled her legs under her and thought. “You could read to me?”
Erica relaxed a little. “Reading sounds like an excellent idea. Fun.”
“And you could take me to Disneyland. Do you like roller coasters? My friend Jamie was sick on a roller coaster but that was because his daddy gave him ice cream right before he went on the ride.”
“Delphi!” Hattie arrived back in the room at that moment. “You can’t ask strangers to take you to Disneyland.”
“But you said she isn’t a stranger. She’s Aunt Erica.”
“You’re doing too much chatting and not enough sleeping.” Hattie scooped Delphi up along with the dinosaur. “Say good-night to Aunt Erica.”
“But—”
“There is no but in ‘good night, Aunt Erica.’”
Delphi grinned and waved. “Night night, Aunt Erica.”
“Good night, Delphi. Sleep well.”
Hattie was gone for less than five minutes and when she returned she had a bottle of wine and two glasses in her hand.
“Sorry about that. Did she talk you to death?”
Erica thought about the conversation. “She certainly did have a lot to say. She’s very confident. Not that I know much about what children say at various ages but she seems ahead of her age.”
“She talked before she walked.” Hattie put the wine and the glasses down on the table. “And she always has plenty to say—she’s five going on fifteen. That’s my fault. Because it has been just the two of us, I talk to her about all sorts of things I probably shouldn’t. I try not to use her for emotional support, apart from occasionally letting her sleep in my bed and pretending I’m doing it for her—” She gave a wry smile. “That’s what Rufus is for, isn’t it, Rufus?”
Rufus lifted his nose from his paws and wagged his tail across the rug.
“Whatever you’re doing, it seems to be working. I enjoyed Delphi’s company.” And no one was more surprised by that than she was.
Her words seemed to cheer Hattie.
“You have no idea how good it is to hear that. I worry that she has a slightly strange life, living here, but at the same time she has lots of experiences she wouldn’t have in a conventional family unit. And the guests are always entertained by her, so she gets more fuss and attention than she should. But she’s pretty sensible.”
“Yes, I witnessed that. She gave me a long and almost disturbingly rational explanation as to why she probably shouldn’t have one of Panther’s kittens for Christmas. Who is Panther, by the way?”
“Panther is one of the farm cats,” Hattie said. “She’s still going on about Panther’s kittens? I thought that moment had passed.”
“Don’t worry. She can’t face clearing up the poop. You’re off the hook.”
Hattie laughed. “Phew.”
“I suspect if everyone thought it through as deeply as your daughter there would be fewer abandoned pets.”
“I’m big on emphasizing responsibility. Or maybe I’m just a killjoy. I worry sometimes that without Brent around to balance it out, I’m making her cautious.” Hattie opened the wine. “Brent was more of an impulse person. Act now, and deal with the consequences later. He’d get these great ideas and plow ahead without thinking through the detail. We’ll figure it out, Hattie was his favorite phrase. But I prefer to figure things out before we do them. I think about the consequences first. Brent said it was like going through life with the brakes on. Wine?”
“Please. Considering consequences is part of being an adult, surely?” Erica watched as Hattie poured the wine carefully into the glasses. As someone who was instinctively guarded with people she didn’t know, it surprised her that Hattie was so open with her. She felt as if she knew her already. As if she’d been given a shortcut to everything she was. The who. The why. “But maybe I’m not the best person to talk to about that. In a way, that’s what I do for a living. I focus on consequences.”
Hattie set the bottle down and handed her a glass. “What do you do?”
“I specialize in crisis management. I started working in public relations, and always seemed to end up at the sharp end when there was a crisis. Thanks—” She took the glass from Hattie. She felt as if she should say more about herself, but the words lodged in her throat, refusing to leave her. It wasn’t natural for her to spill secrets about herself.
“I bet you’re really cool in a crisis.” Hattie tugged off her boots. “That explains why you were so calm when Stephanie and Chef Tucker walked out and I was in a panic.”
“It’s easy to be calm when it’s not your problem.”
“Maybe. I am bad at decision making. I’m so afraid of making a mistake that I end up not making a decision at all.” Hattie picked up her own glass. “I hate that about myself. I’d like to be confident and decisive.”
“Everyone has something they don’t like about themselves.”
“Do you?”
This was proving to be a very uncomfortable conversation.
Erica hesitated. “I find it hard to express emotions, even when I really want to express them. It’s as if they are jammed inside me.” She couldn’t believe she’d just said that aloud. She half expected the world to collapse, and was surprised when all that happened was that Hattie nodded.