Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(108)

“We have to have a consensus,” Robin said, her gaze darting back and forth between Nick and Abbey. “I can’t help it if you two have the same taste.” She winked in their direction. “I’d like to try them all.”

“Well, why don’t you call us when you’re ready to do the deserts?” Nick said. “Since Abbey seems to be on the same page as I am, I’d like to take a few minutes to talk with her, if that’s all right.”

They all agreed a little too energetically.

“Shall we go to the ballroom?” he asked. “I’ve had Richard start a fire in there.”

“Sure,” she said.

“We’ll be back,” he told them as the chef set another plate in front of the others. They smiled and waved them off down the hallway.

“I was hoping to discuss your plans for Christmas Eve,” he said gently as they walked. “You’re staying to take care of Caroline. No staff works on Christmas, but I’d like you to stay.”

She hadn’t really thought it through yet. The party was on Christmas Eve. She could attend that with him, but Max would certainly be too tired to drive all the way home with her. It would be very easy to put him to bed upstairs. The only problem was that this was supposed to be the perfect Christmas for Max, and Santa would have to arrive at an empty apartment. He wouldn’t get his gifts until they’d gotten back home. She considered this as they entered the ballroom.

Nick offered her a seat on the sofa.

“I’m just thinking about Santa Claus,” she said.

Nick nodded, looking thoughtful. “Well, he can either leave the gifts at your house and you can get them the next day, or he can leave them at mine. You could set out a note with his cookies and milk,” he said.

She didn’t want to have Santa leave the gifts in an empty house, but she also didn’t want Max to compare his gifts from Santa with whatever in the world Thomas was going to receive. She wouldn’t be able to compete.

“Something’s bothering you,” he noticed.

She chewed on her lip, trying to figure out what to say, and stood up. He followed suit.

“What is it?” he said.

“I want Max to have the perfect Christmas,” she said. “So I don’t want his Santa loot to be left at an empty apartment.”

“Fine. He can leave it here.”

“But…” It was so touchy. How would she explain it without making him feel guilty or, worse yet, make him want to buy more things for Max?

“But what?”

“I’m worried he’ll compare what he’s gotten with what Thomas gets, and I can’t equal what Robin will be able to buy.” He opened his mouth to speak but she kept going. “And I don’t want you to buy him things to bridge the gap either.” He shut his mouth. “I know Christmas isn’t about how much we get, but for a little kid, he already feels the pressure of pinching pennies. He hears what his friends have gotten and he wonders, since Santa can get anything, why Santa isn’t bringing it to him. It’s a tough situation. I don’t spoil him; I never have. But I want him to feel like he’s just as good as his friends, and if that means buying things, then so be it. I can explain it all to him later. But I want those things to be from me.”

“How many things do you have for him from Santa?” he asked.

“Three. I wrapped the others up from me.”

“Then we’ll put out three for Thomas.”

“Isn’t he used to getting more?”

“Not necessarily. Robin doesn’t like to spoil him either. Mothers are all the same,” he smiled.

“Are you sure Robin will be okay with that?”

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling relieved.

“So,” he said with a smile. “That means you and Max are staying the night on Christmas Eve.”

“I suppose,” she said with a grin.

“Perfect! I didn’t want you driving after the party. Now, I have another money question for you: I want to get you a Christmas gift.”

She was very interested to see what he had to say.

“It would make me feel good about going to New York, knowing that you’re taken care of.”

What kind of gift was he considering?

“My grandmother told me about your grandfather. About how he can’t get good medicine on his insurance plan.”

She swallowed. He was going to offer her something that she would have a very difficult time refusing; she could feel it, and she was gearing up for how in good conscience she could tell him no thank you.

“Let me pay for the medicine.”

She shook her head, anxiety surfacing at the thought of pushing away what could help Gramps. But she couldn’t ask for it.