First Kiss at Christmas by Lee Tobin McClain

CHAPTER TWO

TO TONY’SRELIEF, he and Jax made it through the three-hour preschool class, but only because Tony held Jax in his lap the entire time. Any hint of backing off, and the tears started up again.

Despite her thoughtless comment about parents always coming back, Kayla seemed to be a good teacher. The kids hung on her, or tried to, but she had a gentle way of detaching and redirecting them that Tony watched closely, hoping he could use a similar strategy with Jax. She actually taught the kids, which Tony hadn’t realized even happened in preschool; today, they were learning the letter X, and she had the children form the letter with their fingers and lie down with arms and legs outstretched to make an X shape with their whole bodies.

“Who has the letter X in their name?” she asked.

A precocious-seeming little girl named Pixie shouted out “Me, me!” Kayla had her hold up the name card from her cubby to walk around so each child could point to the x in the middle of her name.

“Anyone else?” she asked, smiling at Tony and Jax.

Jax’s mouth curved up just a little, which was a relief; he remembered. Tony had written Jax’s name for him many times and had him spell it out with magnetic letters on the fridge in their old place. He was never sure how much Jax retained.

Kayla pulled a name card off a cubby, and sure enough, it said “Jax.”

“Do you want to walk it around like Pixie did?” she asked Jax gently.

He shook his head.

“Not even if Uncle Tony walks with you?”

He hesitated, then shook his head again.

“Then, let’s see...can we have a volunteer?”

The other children clamored to be the one chosen, and as the class continued, with Jax refusing to participate, Tony’s heart hurt for his nephew.

It was Tony’s fault the child was in this state. If he hadn’t fought with Jax’s mother, she might not have returned to her druggie boyfriend and lifestyle. Jax would still have the mom he missed so much.

As the rest of the parents came in and greeted their children, talked with each other and marveled over the construction-paper stars the kids had loaded with glitter, Tony held Jax against his chest and sighed.

He had no idea of how to handle Jax’s fears. He was at the end of his rope, which was why he’d agreed to join the Victory Cottage program.

He just hoped Kayla would have some ideas up the sleeve of her oversize red Christmas sweater.

As the other kids and parents trickled out, Tony stood, too, but Kayla put up a hand like a stop sign. “We need to talk.”

Great. Was Jax getting kicked out of another school on day one?

And would the boy be glued to Tony’s side for the rest of his life? He had a vision of Jax as a teenager, then a grown man, wrapping himself around Tony, unable to let his uncle out of his sight. The image would have been comical, except it wasn’t.

“Come on downstairs,” Kayla said. “We’ll sit and talk, and Jax can play with one of the other kids. Mom set it all up.”

Mom, Tony realized as he carried Jax downstairs, was Miss Meg, the principal of the school. Once she and Kayla stood side by side, the resemblance was unmistakable.

“Hi, Jax,” Miss Meg said cheerfully. “I’ve got a friend to play with you while Uncle Tony talks to your new teacher.”

Jax turned his face into Tony’s chest.

“He has a dog,” Miss Meg said. “A really big, really lazy dog.”

Jax lifted his head at that and looked past the woman.

“Come on in here.” Meg bustled ahead, gesturing, and Tony followed her into a room where a boy about Jax’s age—and, indeed, a large dog that looked like a bloodhound—sat waiting.

“I’m Davey,” the boy said to Jax. “You can play with my dog, but you have to listen to me, cuz I’m older than you. I’m in kindergarten.”

Jax, who hadn’t responded in the least to Kayla’s nor Tony’s pleas, nodded and wiggled to get down.

“His name is Sarge,” Davey informed Jax, beckoning him closer. “His ears are soft.” He lifted one of the dog’s floppy ears.

Tony started to follow his nephew. Jax wasn’t accustomed to dogs, and this one, for all its apparent gentleness, was pretty large.

A hand on his arm stopped him. Kayla.

“Maybe let them handle it?” she suggested in a low voice. “Kids are good with each other, sometimes better than we can be.”

Tony hesitated. The last thing Jax needed was another scare, another setback. But Jax looked more engaged than he had all day, listening to the other boy’s running monologue. “Right, okay,” Tony said, and followed Kayla to a small table.

“Sorry about the little chairs,” she said as she pulled one out.

Tony raised an eyebrow. No way was he sitting in one of those. He’d break it. He looked around and spotted a stack of folding chairs. “Okay if I grab us a couple of those?”

She nodded, and he brought them over, keeping an eye on his nephew. Jax knelt in front of the bloodhound now, touching its ear with a hesitant finger.

Meg brought in a laptop and sat near the two boys. “You two talk,” she said to Tony and Kayla. “I’ll look out for the boys.”

Which was nice, but it seemed like the whole school was getting involved in Jax’s problems. That didn’t bode well, in Tony’s limited experience.

“Hey,” Kayla said as soon as they were both seated, “I apologize again for what I said about mothers. I’m sorry for your loss. Was Jax’s mom young?”

“She was.” And he didn’t want to talk about it. “Do you think this is going to work, with Jax? I’m sorry he disrupted your class.”

“Of course it’ll work.” Her voice was matter-of-fact and confident, and her face was kind, and it felt as if she was lifting part of the burden off his shoulders. “We just have to think of some strategies.”

“Really? Like what?”

“He can bring a lovey, if he has one.”

What was a lovey? He must have looked blank.

“A favorite stuffed animal or blanket?” She straightened and frowned. “Does Jax have one?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s actually...his mom’s sweater.” When Tony had opened his door that awful day, to find Jax crying on his doorstep, the child had been clinging to Stella’s sweater. He slept with it every night.

Kayla swallowed. “Wow. Well, he can certainly bring it if it’s a comfort. Also, we can start with short visits, if he doesn’t want to stay the whole time. He could bring a picture of you, or...” She hesitated. “I don’t know if a picture of his mom would help or hurt. How recently did you lose her?”

“Three months ago. I’m not sure a picture of her would help.” He looked away. The two boys were still occupied with the dog. Meg, the principal, was typing something on her laptop, and a woman who looked like a janitor was sweeping dirt into a dustpan near where the boys sat.

“Kids pick up on our feelings,” Kayla said hesitantly.

He turned back toward her. “What are you saying?”

“Just that...you’ve had a loss, too, and you seem a little...”

He forced his expression to stay bland as his blood pressure rose. “A little what?”

“Tense,” she said. “You seem tense. Are you getting some help?”

Talk about nosy. He wasn’t going to share his innermost thoughts with a preschool teacher. “I’m fine.” He stood. “Jax, time to go.”

Kayla stood, too. She didn’t apologize for her intrusive question, just studied him with a raised eyebrow. “I hope you’ll bring Jax back tomorrow.”

He wanted to say no, but what choice did he have? Jax needed something, and Tony sure wasn’t providing it. He forced himself to make nice. “Look, I appreciate your ideas and that you’re open to working with Jax. We’ll be back. I just... Jax is tired and hungry, and he doesn’t do well then.” He rounded up his nephew. “Thanks for everything.” He threw the words back in the general direction of the two women and the little boy, and then hurried Jax toward the school’s exit, not sure exactly why he felt like he had to escape, fast.

SYLVIE SHAFFERHADalways loved to clean—loved housework, really. So getting the job as the janitor at the Coastal Kids school was an amazing stroke of luck.

It would put her in contact with Jax every day. She could keep an eye on him like her boyfriend, Big Bobby, wanted her to. She could make sure Jax didn’t know anything incriminating about the day his mother had died.

She finished sweeping the hallway just as Jax and his uncle emerged from the lunchroom-slash-conference room. They seemed to be in a hurry, and that was just as well. After giving them a quick smile, she looked away. She didn’t think the boy would recognize her—she’d dyed her hair and cut it—but best not to take the risk.

She wished she could pick Jax up and hug him. They said when you saved a life, you were ever after responsible for that person. She didn’t know if she’d exactly saved his life, but she’d gotten him out of harm’s way at a dangerous moment. Maybe that was why she felt emotional toward the boy. Or maybe it was because she’d never had kids of her own. Now, at thirty-two and with a much older boyfriend, it didn’t look like she would ever have that chance.

She stole another glance in their direction. The uncle was kneeling, zipping up the child’s coat.

Jax stared at Sylvie, eyes round.

Uh-oh. Did he recognize her?

Kids were like animals; they sensed things. She bent down to pick up her dustpan and hurried away from the pair, tense until she heard the door close behind them.

A voice from the office area startled her. “How’s it going so far?” That was Miss Meg, her new boss. The woman was in her early fifties but looked younger. She’d probably made better life choices than Sylvie had, fewer mistakes. “You settling in okay?” Miss Meg asked her.

Sylvie nodded. “I just need to mop. Then I’ll be done with the downstairs.”

“That’s great,” Meg said, smiling, “but I meant settling into town. Did you find a place to stay?”

Sylvie leaned on her broom. “I did. I’m at the Chesapeake Motor Lodge. Ria, that’s the manager, she gave me a deal for the month of December and let me start a few days early.”

“Good.” There were questions in Miss Meg’s eyes, but to her credit, she didn’t ask them. Things like “Why are you available to take a temporary job in a town that’s new to you?” were legally off the list for bosses to ask.

Still, Sylvie needed to be friendly so she could keep this job. “Pleasant Shores seems like a real nice place,” she said. “The downtown’s so cute. And I like that it’s on the water.”

The people seemed friendly, too, even to an outsider. It was too bad Sylvie couldn’t open up to anyone.

“It’s a wonderful place to live.” Miss Meg shifted her laptop and file folders to her other arm. “The job is only three hours per day, and you’ve been here that already. You’re welcome to work a few hours overtime, but you don’t have to. You can wait and work on the upstairs tomorrow.”

“I’ll probably do that. Thanks.” She headed for the supply cupboard. The school was pretty clean, but it was obvious that the person she was filling in for had cut some corners. Apparently she’d worked right up to her due date.

“Oh, and Sylvie,” Miss Meg said, “I can introduce you to some people, if you’d like to make some friends. Once you’re settled.”

“That’s nice of you, but there’s no need.” Sylvie focused on pulling the mop and bucket out of the closet so she wouldn’t have to look at Miss Meg.

She hoped her reticence wasn’t suspicious. Wished she could be honest and take Meg up on the offer, actually. Wished she’d grown up in a nice town like this.

When Big Bobby had told her he wanted her to spend time in a shore town to keep an eye on young Jax, she’d agreed immediately. Mostly because she always did what Bobby said to do, but partly because things hadn’t been going so well between them. A break might do them both good.

Part of her wondered whether that was what Bobby had in mind. Had he drummed up the excuse of needing someone to stay close to the child, just to start the process of breaking up?

Would that be a bad thing?

She squirted disinfecting floor cleaner into the mop bucket and started to fill it with water. She’d work a little longer, make a few extra bucks.

Working hard would prevent her from thinking too much.

TUESDAYAFTERNOON, trying to make up for another disastrous morning at preschool, Tony took Jax to the local toy store. It was an old-fashioned-looking small shop in a row of them, on the main street of Pleasant Shores.

“I’ll buy you one thing,” he said to Jax as they walked in, “but something that doesn’t cost much. We have to watch our money.”

He figured it would be way too hard for a four-year-old to understand budgets and money, but to Tony’s surprise, Jax nodded as if he were familiar with the concept. Which he might be; Stella had usually been short on funds.

“Can I help you?” The clerk, or maybe the owner, approached without a smile. She had short-cropped hair, a knee-length dress, and sensible shoes. Tony would have pegged her for a nun from a conservative order if she hadn’t been working in a toy store.

“We’re just looking,” he said, hoping to avoid the high-pressure sales pitch used by some smaller stores.

“Let me know if I can help you.” She looked Tony up and down, turned, and walked away.

What was her problem? But despite the unfriendly sales clerk, the store was a kid’s wonderland. Of course, it was decorated for Christmas, with fake cotton snow and colored lights. There was a life-size Santa figure in one corner and a big Christmas tree in another. Even on a weekday afternoon, there were five or six other customers in the shop.

Jax visibly perked up as he looked around at the bounty of toys: stuffed bears and big Tonka trucks, blocks and boats and board games. He hurried from aisle to aisle, and Tony followed, enjoying his nephew’s excitement. But the abundance also made him realize that Jax didn’t have all that many toys, and he regretted the child’s deprived background. Maybe if Tony had been able to help Stella more, financially, she wouldn’t have gotten so angry and desperate.

Jax knelt beside a shelf of wooden boats, touching them reverently. Tony stood beside him, partly to make sure he was being gentle with them, and partly to check the price tags. What he saw made him step back. “Almost fifty dollars for a toy boat?” he said. “Sorry, buddy, that’s too much for us.”

Jax bit his lip and Tony thought he might cry, but then he swallowed hard and nodded.

“They’re handcrafted replicas of real historical crabbing boats,” the tight-mouthed shopkeeper informed him. “Make sure your son is careful.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something not so nice, and then shut it again and simply nodded. He wished he could buy Jax everything, buy him happiness, but he knew from experience as well as his online social work studies that money and toys didn’t heal kids.

They wandered on, and fortunately, Jax got interested in some more moderately priced playthings. A father and son waved from the counter, and Tony recognized the boy as belonging to the preschool class. “Hey, Jax, there’s a new friend,” he said, trying to encourage his nephew’s social skills. Maybe if Jax got more familiar with the other kids, he’d actually enjoy preschool.

But when Jax saw the other boy, he hid his face against Tony’s leg. Oh, well. One thing at a time.

There were some small military figures of a sort Tony used to play with as a kid, made of green plastic. Tony knelt and looked through the basket, remembering the various poses and weapons. Back then, all the soldiers had been male, a fact Stella had complained about as a toddler. He remembered her bringing in a couple of her baby dolls and insisting that they be allowed to participate. The memory of her dolls, dwarfing the toy soldiers and ordering them around in Stella’s childish lisp, made him smile.

“Hey, we could afford a few of these,” he said over his shoulder to Jax.

No answer. Jax wasn’t there.

Tony leaped to his feet, his knee bumping the basket of soldiers and knocking it over as he looked around wildly, his heart hammering. “Jax! Jax, where are you?”

“He’s over here,” the father of Jax’s classmate called, pointing to the aisle where Jax had been before, looking at the boats.

Tony rushed over and found Jax walking toward him, his chin trembling. Tony’s shouts must have scared him.

“You can’t do that, buddy!” He knelt in front of Jax. “You need to stay close by me.” All of a sudden the place felt too hot, too crowded. “Look, we need to leave. We’ll come back and get you something another time.”

He expected a protest from Jax but didn’t get it.

Remembering that he’d knocked over some toys, he took Jax’s hand and walked to the soldier aisle, but a young clerk was putting the basket back, all refilled.

“Sorry about that,” Tony said.

“No problem. Happens all the time.”

Tony still felt overly hot in his heavy coat, and he noticed that Jax was sweating, too. “We’ll come back another day, buddy,” he said, and they walked out into the refreshingly cool air.

“Hey! Sir!” It was the cranky shopkeeper, yelling behind him. From the other direction, a uniformed police officer approached.

Jax knelt and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“This is the man,” the shopkeeper said to the officer, her voice shrill. “He stole an expensive toy!”

Jax started to cry as the police officer stopped in front of them. While the officer was at a respectful distance, the shopkeeper stood inches away from him and Jax.

“You’re scaring him,” Tony said. “Back off.”

“You’re using him to steal,” she accused.

He knelt and picked Jax up. “What?”

And then he felt the large lump beneath Jax’s coat. “What’s this, buddy?”

Jax ducked his head and tried to twist away.

Uh-oh. Tony set him down, knelt in front of him and unzipped his coat enough to extract the fifty-dollar boat.

“There, you see? They stole one of our special replicas.” The shopkeeper sounded triumphant.

Tony took Jax’s chin in his hand, forcing the teary child to look into his eyes. “You can’t do that, Jax. That’s stealing, and it’s wrong.” He held up the replica toward the shopkeeper without breaking his gaze from his nephew’s. “You need to say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Jax choked out and then threw himself into his uncle’s arms. Tony stood, then picked Jax up and held him on his hip like a much smaller child.

“I apologize, too, ma’am,” he said. “I should have been watching him more closely. If the toy’s damaged, I’ll pay for it.”

“You certainly will.” She examined the boat from every angle.

Tony felt like a complete failure. Had Stella allowed Jax to shoplift, or at least, had she not taught him that it was wrong? Was Tony depriving Jax too much, causing him to steal?

“You have to nip that kind of criminal behavior in the bud,” the shopkeeper said. Which was basically what Tony had been thinking.

But he didn’t like hearing it from this negative woman’s mouth. “Ma’am, he’s four years old.”

“That’s where it starts,” she said tartly.

Blood pounded in Tony’s ears. “You might be in the wrong line of work, if you don’t like kids.”

Two high pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “Well, I never heard such a thing.” She turned to the police officer. “Are you going to let this thief stand here and insult me?”

Tony opened his mouth, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but a glance at his nephew’s tearful face stopped him. He pressed his lips together and shifted Jax to his other hip.

“I’ll take it from here, Therese,” the officer said.

The father and son from the preschool came out of the toy store and joined a small crowd that Tony only now noticed had gathered to watch the little drama. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Calm, calm,he repeated mentally, something he’d learned to do in tense situations overseas. “I’ll pay for the boat,” he said to the woman, reaching for his wallet.

“Never mind. That won’t teach the right lesson. At least I know that much.”

Tony ground his teeth.

“You can get back to your shop,” the officer said to the woman, “unless you want to file a report against a four-year-old.”

She made a disgusted sound and marched back into the store.

“Nothing to see here, folks,” the cop said, giving the little crowd a firm stare, and they began to disperse.

Tony now needed to deal with his crying nephew. Did he punish Jax or comfort him?

An image of Kayla, the pretty preschool teacher, flashed through his mind. She’d probably know just how to handle such a situation.

She wasn’t here, though, and Tony was. And maybe it was wrong, but Jax’s heartbroken, weakening sobs made him choose compassion. He stroked his nephew’s hair. “Come on, buddy. It’s all over. You said you were sorry.” Then he looked at the cop. “I apologize for all this. Thanks for defusing the situation.”

The officer nodded and held out a hand. “Evan Stone.”

“Tony DeNunzio. And this is Jax.”

Jax peeked out at Evan and then buried his face again, letting out a couple more sobs.

“He’s afraid of police officers,” Tony explained. “He’s...he’s had some bad experiences with them.”

Understanding crossed the man’s face. “Are you the new Victory Cottage family?” he asked.

Was it that obvious? Tony nodded.

“Good program,” Evan said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small badge, a plastic imitation of his own larger police one. “Okay if I give this to him?”

“Sure thing.” He set Jax down and knelt beside him. “Officer Stone has something for you,” he told his nephew. Wind whipped through the street, and Tony zipped Jax’s coat up tight again.

When Jax saw the little badge, his eyes lit up.

“You can wear it,” the officer said, handing the toy badge to Tony to pin on. “But remember, no taking things from stores unless you pay for them.”

Jax nodded seriously and then watched as Tony pinned the badge onto the outside of his coat.

It was more than any of the beleaguered officers back home had been able to do for Jax. Benefit of a small, crime-light town, maybe. “Thanks,” he said to Evan, “and again, I’m sorry about what happened. I’ll keep a closer eye on him.”

“No problem.”

As he stood, noticing a few lingering pedestrians who’d watched the interaction, Tony realized he was wearing his long green army coat and that he hadn’t shaved. Again.

The unpleasant shopkeeper glared at them from behind the door of her shop, hands on hips.

He made a vow to himself. He was going to clean up and make nice and try to fit in throughout his Victory Cottage stint. He had to, so he could help out his troubled nephew, not mess his life up more.