Happily Ever After Page 8

  “I’m not moping around, and I’m not a Christmas grump.” Rachel folded her arms over her chest. The ugly end of her last relationship was just one more reason to hate this time of year.

  A salesclerk joined the teenagers in front of the display case, so Rachel and Mike continued on their way down the row of stores.

  “Why don’t you come over and have dinner with us on Christmas Eve?” Mike asked. “The kids would love to see you again, and Beth’s parents will be there too.”

  Rachel shook her head. A pity invitation for the adopted spinster aunt. No, thanks. “Maybe another time.” She would order pizza, ignore the sappy movies on TV, and go to bed early.

  Mike groaned. “Ah, come on, Rach. You can’t leave me alone with my in-laws.”

  “Sorry, pal. You married the woman, so her parents are all yours.” She had never met Beth’s parents, but if only half of Mike’s stories were true, she had no desire to change that anytime soon.

  They passed a toy store, and Mike slowed to look at something displayed in the window. “Hey, think Hannah would like that horse over there?”

  Rachel glanced at the pink horse, took in its braided, glittering mane, and shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue what a six-year-old would want for Christmas. Why don’t you ask Beth?”

  “Yeah, I better. She wasn’t happy when I bought Josh that radio-controlled hummer last Christmas.”

  Rachel snorted. “Because Josh was barely two. The only kid playing with that hummer was you.”

  The reflection in the store window showed her Mike’s rueful grin.

  Something on the other side of the glass caught Rachel’s attention.

  The aisles looked like Egypt during the locust plague. Children and adults swarmed the toy store, leaving salesclerks scrambling to restock. In the middle of all the hustle and bustle, one child stood motionless.

  The boy—Rachel guessed him to be around six or seven—stared up at a box of Legos, not even looking away when other shoppers jostled him. Tousled black hair stuck out from under a knit cap, and a pair of gloves made of the same wool dangled around his neck. From where Rachel was standing, it looked as if the thumb of the left glove was a bit too long. The boy’s coat seemed to be clean and warm, but the colors were faded as if a succession of other kids had worn it before him, and his boots looked two sizes too big for a boy of his size.

  His clothing told a story that Rachel knew only too well. Whoever the kid’s parents were, they couldn’t afford the brand-name clothes the mall sold. And they sure as hell can’t afford the overpriced toys and gadgets in that store.

  “What are you staring at?” Mike had turned toward her.

  Rachel didn’t glance away from the kid in the toy store. “That boy.”

  “Boy?” Mike chuckled. “And here I thought you had an eye only for the ladies.”

  “Very funny.” Rachel dragged him around by the shoulder. “Keep an eye on that boy over there. Look at how he’s staring at those toys. I think he’s about to become arrest number fifteen.”

  “There you go again, being a Christmas grump,” Mike said. “Why do you always assume the worst? Maybe the Lego robot is on his wish list for Christmas, and he just can’t decide if he wants his parents to get the red or the blue one.”

  “Yeah, right.” Christmas was turning her colleague into a sentimental fool, but she would keep an eye on the boy.

  Their walkie-talkies crackled. A tinny voice shouted, “Phillips? Lewis? I need help in the parking lot. Someone’s jacking a car!”

  One hand on the Taser hooked to her duty belt, Rachel started to run, Mike right behind her.

  When they passed the toy store again ten minutes later, dragging two cuffed teenagers to the security office, the boy was gone.

  The EAS alarm went off at the exit of a toy store just as Rachel passed by. She rolled her eyes. Christ, that must be the twentieth time today.

  With a neutral expression, she stepped up to the shopper who had just left the store. “Sir, would you mind walking through the gate again, please?”

  “I didn’t steal anything,” the wide-eyed older man said. He lifted his hands in the air as if she was about to shoot him.

  “I’m not saying you did.” Rachel kept her voice calm. “Just step through the gate again, please, and we’ll clear this up in no time.”

  When he stepped back into the store, the alarm beeped.

  “Is there anything you might have forgotten to pay for, Sir?” Rachel asked. That, of course, was security guard speak for “Did you, by any chance, try to rob the store blind?”

  “No. I just bought a video game for my grandson, that’s all.” He opened his shopping bag and showed her the game and the receipt.

  After working at the mall for three years, Rachel had developed a sixth sense that worked better than the unreliable EAS gates. This guy didn’t set off her personal alarm. “Do you mind if I take this back to the cashier? They might have forgotten to properly deactivate the security tag on the game.”

  Nine times out of ten, that turned out to be the cause of the problem.

  When the customer followed her to the cash register and they stood waiting for the cashier to check the tag, Rachel looked around the busy store.

  Her gaze wandered along an aisle—then snapped back to the shelf with the Lego robots.

  Right there, in the exact same place as the day before, stood the boy with the uneven gloves.

  Rachel watched him, making sure that he wasn’t trying to conceal any of the toys beneath his worn coat, but he just stood there, staring at the robots.

  Where are his parents? She looked up and down the aisle but found no adult who seemed to belong to the boy.

  The boy couldn’t be older than seven, yet he was alone in the middle of the huge, crowded mall.

  She took one step toward him, but before she could reach him, the cashier started to apologize profusely to the customer with the video game. At the same time, the EAS went off again.

  Biting back a curse, Rachel whirled around to repeat the whole process.

  Rachel rode the escalator up to the food court and nodded at a uniformed police officer who passed her. Her stomach rumbled when the aromas of pizza and Chow Mein wafted over. She glanced at her watch. Her shift was far from over, but things had been too busy for a proper lunch break. Maybe a quick burger while I walk.

  She headed toward one of the fast-food places and was about to enter when the door was pushed open, nearly hitting her in the face.

  A petite woman in the fast-food chain’s uniform rushed out. She almost collided with Rachel and paused in her mad dash. “Oh, Officer!” Fear-widened blue eyes looked up at Rachel. “Have you seen my son? He’s seven and about this tall,” she gesticulated with a trembling hand, “and he…he’s got…black hair.” She ran one hand over her long, black hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail that threatened to come undone any moment. A few strands already fell into her pretty face.

  “Ma’am, calm down.” Rachel laid a calming hand on the woman’s upper arm. Beneath the odor of deep-frying fat, she caught a whiff of the woman’s scent—just shampoo and soap, no cloud of perfume or overpowering Christmas scents. Nice, she thought, then chided herself and directed her attention back to the problem at hand. “Where did you last see him?”

  The woman bounced on her tiptoes and craned her neck as if hoping to catch a glimpse of her son. “I couldn’t get a babysitter this week, so I had to bring him to work. He was supposed to wait in the back room, but he somehow slipped out without me noticing and now he’s gone!”

  Rachel’s thoughts returned to the many afternoons she had spent coloring in the back room of a diner while her mother worked one of her three jobs. “He probably just got bored,” she said in her most soothing tone. “Do you have a photo of him?”

  “Oh, yes, sure.” Her hands still trembling, the woman opened her wallet, dug inside, and fanned out half a dozen pictures. “This is Tyler.”

  A grinning boy, blac
k hair mussed, looked back at Rachel with eyes the same startling blue as his mother’s.

  Rachel squinted down at the photo. I’ve seen him before. Isn’t that…? She gently gripped the woman’s elbow. “Come with me, ma’am. I think I know where to find your son.”

  “Ty!” The woman rushed toward the boy in the Lego aisle and wrapped him in her arms as if she never wanted to let him go again.

  Rachel paused a few yards away, not wanting to interrupt their private moment.

  Slowly, the woman let go of her son and crouched to his eye level. Her hand still trembled as she smoothed an errant strand of hair under his cap. “God, Tyler, you scared me half to death! Please, don’t ever do that again. You can’t just run around the mall without me knowing.”

  “I didn’t run away, Mom,” he mumbled and pointed at the shelf. “I just wanted to look at the robot.”

  The woman glanced at the toy. Her full lips compressed into a tight line. “I know.” She straightened and wrapped one arm around his shoulders. There was something vulnerable but at the same time strong about her. When she turned, her gaze fell on Rachel. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I—”

  Rachel’s walkie-talkie chose the worst possible moment to interrupt. “Rach?” Mike’s voice came through the walkie-talkie. “Can you come over to the office? Winona is at it again.”

  Dammit! The woman nicknamed Winona was caught shoplifting at least once a week, and while Rachel normally found her entertaining, she didn’t want to go and deal with her now. “I’m on my way,” she said into the walkie-talkie. She glanced down to find two sets of blue eyes looking at her and gave a regretful shrug. “I have to go.”

  “Thanks again and take care,” the woman said, making eye contact.

  “You too.” With one last glance over her shoulder, Rachel strode toward the office.

  “Pretzel?” Mike asked when they met up for a quick break.

  Rachel shook her head and lifted her lunch. “I already got something.”

  “Fast food again? You got a thing for burgers now?”

  “No,” Rachel said. Not for burgers. She had gone by the burger place twice in the last two days, but Tyler’s mother hadn’t been behind the counter either time.

  They continued their patrol.

  When they passed the toy store, Rachel’s gaze automatically zeroed in on the spot in front of the Lego shelf. She halted midstep.

  Tyler stood in the middle of the aisle again.

  “Hold this.” She pressed the burger into Mike’s hands and entered the store. “Hello, Tyler.” She stopped some distance away so she wouldn’t scare the boy.

  He whirled around and stared up at her with his blue eyes.

  “Did you get bored in the back room again?”

  He shrugged.

  “Does your mom or dad know where you are?” Rachel asked.

  The boy hesitated but then said, “I don’t have a dad.”

  Ah. So his old man cleared out just like mine did as soon as he found out Mom was pregnant. “I don’t have a father either,” she said so he wouldn’t feel so bad. “Your mom seems pretty great, though.”

  “Yeah.” He shuffled his feet.

  Rachel knew the expression on his face only too well. “She’s working a lot, huh?”

  Tyler looked up at her and sighed. “Yeah.” He hesitated again, as if unsure about talking to a stranger. When Rachel just looked at him without trying to pressure him into conversation, he added, “She used to stay home with me before Mama Maggie died.”

  A huge lump formed in Rachel’s throat. “Mama Maggie?”

  His small shoulders squared as if he was preparing for battle. “I have two moms.” His face fell, and he stared at his feet. Barely audible, he corrected, “Had.”

  Oh, Jesus. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. The pain on his face reminded her too much of losing her own mother. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled because she didn’t know what else to say.

  “Tyler?” his mother called as she walked down the aisle. “Are you ready to—?” She looked toward Rachel and stopped. “Oh, hello.”

  Rachel stood caught in the gaze of her expressive blue eyes. Normally, knowing that Tyler’s mother was a lesbian would have put a smile on her face, but the lump in her throat still hadn’t dissolved. Gosh, I’m moping around because Jessica left me, and she lost her partner and has to take care of her son on her own. The woman looked a bit younger than Rachel, probably in her late twenties, and to find herself a widow and a single mom at that age… Rachel couldn’t imagine dealing with that.

  “Tyler didn’t cause any trouble, did he?” the woman asked when Rachel, still speechless, didn’t return her greeting.

  “Oh, no. We were just…talking.” Please don’t let her ask about what. Rachel didn’t want to see the same pain on her face that she had just seen on her son’s.

  The woman reached out a hand and tousled her son’s locks. She was wearing a much too thin jacket over her fast-food uniform.

  But she made sure her son has a quilted coat, Rachel thought.

  Tyler tugged on his mother’s hand to get her attention. “She doesn’t have a dad either, Mom,” he announced.

  His mother looked from Tyler to Rachel. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Curiosity glittered in her eyes, but she didn’t ask any questions.

  Maybe because she doesn’t want to answer any painful questions either.

  The petite woman glanced at her watch. “We need to be home by seven, Ty. The new babysitter is coming over, and you said you wanted to take a look at the nerf guns before we have to leave.”

  Tyler studied the equipment on Rachel’s duty belt. “Do you have a gun?”

  “No,” Rachel said. “No gun. Think I should get a nerf gun too?”

  Tyler giggled, and his mother smiled, making the lump in Rachel’s throat ease.

  “You should get the big blaster,” Tyler said. “They’re the best.”

  “Is that what you want for Christmas?”

  Tyler’s gaze veered up to the robots, then he shrugged. “I guess.”

  Rachel understood. The nerf gun probably cost just a few dollars, while the robot… She stared at the price tag on the shelf. Fifty bucks for one measly plastic robot? Geez, you’d think it was a gold-plated C-3PO for that kind of cash.

  “Rach?” Mike called from the store’s entrance. “Your burger’s getting cold.”

  Heat traveled up Rachel’s neck. She was grateful that Tyler’s mom had no way of knowing that she had lived on a steady diet of burgers for two days.

  The woman reached for Tyler’s hand and gave Rachel a friendly smile. “Hope the rest of your shift is quiet. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said. “I’m sure you will. Have a nice evening.” With a wave to Tyler, she walked toward Mike, who was still holding her burger.

  “Who’s that?” Mike asked.

  Rachel just shrugged. She realized she still hadn’t found out the woman’s name. Tyler’s mom. Maggie’s partner. She wondered if the woman was sick of being defined by those two roles. Was she ready for someone to interact with her as just a good-looking woman?

  She unwrapped her burger, took a big bite, and chewed. Finally, she crumpled up the wrapper and slam-dunked it into the nearest trash can. “Can you lend me fifty bucks? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

  “What for?”

  “Just a Christmas present.”

  Mike made a “boing-boing” sound, like a comic character whose eyes had just dropped out of his face. “The Christmas grump is buying presents?”

  Rachel threw a playful punch to his shoulder. “Shut up and hand over the money.”

  The next day, a knock on the office door interrupted Rachel in the middle of typing the third incident report of the shift, even though her workday had just started. Oh, please, don’t let that be someone reporting another stolen wallet or a drunken Santa.

  When she got up and opened the door, she glanced into a pair of by now familiar blue ey
es—only now they looked more like a stormy gray than a clear blue. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Tyler’s mother said, fidgeting in the doorway. “But I need to report a theft.”

  “Oh.” The smile on Rachel’s face dimmed. So she was here for business, not for pleasure. Well, better than nothing. Any contact with the interesting woman was better than none. “Come on in.”

  Tyler’s mother stepped into the office and lingered in front of Rachel’s desk, her hands still behind her back.

  Rachel pulled out a chair for her. “Take a seat, please.”

  “No, thanks. I just want to… I need to return this. I will pay for anything else he might have…” The woman squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “…stolen.” Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she brought her hands out from behind her back and set a familiar box on the desk.

  Oh, shit.

  “Ma’am…” Rachel cleared her throat. She went back around the desk as if she needed its protection. “Tyler didn’t steal this.”

  “That’s what he said, but I know the shopping mall Santa doesn’t just wander into fast-food places to leave gifts for little boys.”

  They do if you pay them to.

  “Tyler usually knows better than to make up stories like that, but he just wanted that robot so badly and I…” Tyler’s mom sighed and sank onto the chair in front of the desk. “It’s been a really tough year. I’m still paying off hospital bills, and my job doesn’t pay much. I’m saving up to buy him the robot, but I won’t have the money in time for Christmas.”

  Rachel could see how much the admission cost the brave woman. “He didn’t steal the robot,” she repeated, then took a deep breath and added, “I bought it for him.”

  For several seconds, only the low hum of the computer filled the office.

  “What?” The woman stared at Rachel. “Are you serious?”

  Rachel nodded.

  “But…I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

  “I saw Tyler staring at the robot a few times, and I guess I just…” How could she explain what kind of feelings meeting the boy and his mother had triggered inside of her when she didn’t fully understand it herself? “I wanted him to have something that would make him happy and forget about…things, even if it’s just for one night.”