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“But I have no right to demand that Morgan make a marriage commitment to me,” Blake said. “We’ve only known each other for a few months. And even if he did say he wanted to marry me, what kind of wife does he want? Would anything change? He’s always had older nannies who had no other life. Who were content to just watch TV when they were not taking care of him and his daughter. I need a husband who will help me at home so I can work at my profession, at least part time. Someone who understands there is another part of me that needs to exist.”
Marni touched her hand. “You can’t know if he will understand that if you don’t talk to him about it.”
At the time, Blake had agreed with Marni and was determined to speak with Morgan that night. But when she picked Ciara up from school that afternoon, Roni and Shala also piled into the car. Blake had forgotten they were coming over to bake Christmas cookies. Of course, they stayed for dinner too. The girls were wonderful and fun, but by the time they were finished, Blake was dead tired and did not have the energy for the kind of discussion she needed to have with Morgan.
He had driven Roni and Shala home while she cleaned up the kitchen, and when he returned, Blake said, “I’m going to need my sleep tonight.”
He nodded, catching her meaning, and rubbed her back. “Go up and soak in a hot bath. I can see how hard you’re working to make this a great holiday for Ciara. She told me the other day how excited she is. She has never had a Christmas like this before.” He gave her a half smile. “And neither have I. My father and mother fought all the time, and my dad spent money on other women, leaving my mother to make do. After they both died, my sister and I lived with a grandmother who did not want us. She would put out this twelve-inch-high ceramic Christmas tree and said that was better because it didn’t shed needles on the rug. We were teens already, so not getting Santa wasn’t a crisis, but her gifts to us were usually a pair of socks each.”
“Are you kidding?”
Morgan shook his head. “For real. I usually had after-school jobs so I’d get my sister something.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He touched her face, his fingers gentle. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. And to Ciara. My daughter and I did okay before, but I know I have a heavy nature. You have brightened our lives in a way I never could have imagined.”
That night Blake sat in her bathtub and cried. How was she supposed to talk to Morgan about the possibility of leaving after he said all that?
She decided to send Dr. Hanlon an email thanking her and saying how honored she was that she would recommend her. That she was very interested but had a family crisis that could possibly force her to remain in New York. That it would be resolved one way or the other over the holiday and she would contact her before the New Year.
Then, as soon as the chaotic Christmas activity settled down, she would deal with her crisis head-on by having a heart-to-heart talk with Morgan.
* * *
On Christmas morningbefore any of their guests arrived, Blake and Morgan sat in the living room next to their huge Christmas tree, drinking coffee and nibbling holiday cookies as they watched Ciara open her gifts, Gracie and Misty playing with the catnip mice they’d gotten from Santa. Blake had worried she might have bought too many presents for Ciara, but Morgan had easily outdone her. They had coordinated on some things, like ice skates and a sled—after all, this was her first winter outside of SoCal. Luckily the rest were pretty balanced, with Blake leaning toward simpler gifts like kitty cat knee socks, a terrarium kit, a fashion design kit, and, of course, books, while Morgan got her things like an outdoor rocket and a climbing gym.
Blake handed Morgan the two gifts she had bought him. A fisherman’s sweater that looked fabulous on him—she knew it would—and a jumbo collection of all The Drifters’ songs for his iPod. He liked R&B oldies and this was his favorite group.
Then he and Ciara dumped a bunch of packages on Blake. “These can’t all be for me.”
“They are, they are!” Ciara danced around and tossed little wrapping paper balls across the floor for Gracie to chase.
“Looks like Santa decided you were a good girl,” Morgan said. How could his voice and smile have the ability to melt her heart and turn her on at the same time?
Blake opened one after another, the guilt over her impending discussion building. A blouse, a scarf, sweatpants, dangle earrings—“Ciara picked those out”—kitchen notepads, perfume, warm fuzzy slippers, bath oils, and a “You are a Wonder Woman” mug.
Overwhelmed by their generosity, Blake gave them each a hug, thanking them. But she could not help noticing that these were gifts that would be great for any woman. And they all came from both father and daughter together. None of them said anything personal about her. Or about her relationship with Morgan.
Was she being ungrateful? Or was she discovering that she had adapted so fully to her role in this environment that she had lost herself in the bargain. If so, it was a bargain Blake had to take responsibility for because she had jumped right in, fulfilling her need for a child with Ciara and her desire for a hot romance with a gorgeous man like Morgan.
But was there room for the real Blake in their lives? Would they still care for her and want her if she did not fully adapt to their needs?
Christmas day flew by in a whirlwind of family and food. Ciara wore a special red and green sparkly outfit she and Blake had planned. Both sides of the family insisted on coming early to help cook and prepare, which made it much more fun, although at one point Marni sent Harper, Morgan, and Jaleel out to mind the kids who were tearing up the place.
“Too much sugar,” Aileen said.
Uncle Phil got the three women organized as his kitchen crew in a way only he could. “No wonder you have the best restaurant around,” Blake said.
He gave her a hug. “Thanks for including this old man in your family dinner.”
“Hey, sweetie pie,” she said, giving him a swat, “the way you stepped up to the plate for me and my siblings after my dad died means you will always be the number one man in my life.”
Phil lowered his voice and nodded his head toward the living room. “You sure it’s not number two now?”
Blake knew he meant Morgan, and she looked down, biting her lip, and whispered, “Hard to be sure of those things, Uncle Phil.”
“Well, don’t you forget I’m around any time you need to talk.”
