“I’m Kyla. I met your grandson right outside my apartment building. Do you and Billy live in the apartments on this street?”
“Yes. I’ve been here for years, but my little boy just came to live with me not too long ago.”
Kyla wanted to ask how the woman had ended up with her grandson, but she’d heard the pain in Vivian’s voice, and she could tell the story wouldn’t be a pleasant one. In any case, she didn’t want to be intrusive.
“I’m surprised I haven’t run into you before now,” Kyla said as they made it to the building and she pushed open the slow-groaning doors.
“I don’t get out as much as I used to. I have someone who shops for me once a week, but Billy needed a few things, and the shopper won’t come back for three more days, so we had no choice but to go to the store.”
“Which apartment do you live in? Ground floor?” Kyla hoped so, since the elevators didn’t work and she couldn’t imagine that Vivian would able to climb the stairs without major effort.
“Yes, thankfully. I’m in one-sixteen.”
“We’re practically neighbors. I’m in one-twelve,” Kyla said.
“I hope you’ll come in for a cup of tea so I can thank you properly for helping me,” Vivian said as she pulled out a key and inserted it in the lock of her door.
“I would love to,” Kyla told her.
They stepped inside, and Kyla was impressed with the woman’s small apartment. It was spotless, and pictures filled the walls and the end tables by the couch. Holding pride of place in the center of the living room wall was a large framed picture featuring a smiling Billy and what looked like his parents. She again wondered why he was living with his grandmother now, but she couldn’t bear to ask.
“Oh, Billy, remember to pick up your toys, sweetie,” Vivian said as she nearly tripped over a bright little fire engine.
Was tripping the name of the game in this place?
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” Billy said, quickly grabbing the truck before he took it to what looked like his toy box.
“It’s okay. I just don’t want to fall over,” Vivian told him before moving to the kitchen and filling her teakettle with water and setting it on the stove, then taking two cups down.
Once Kyla set the heavy bags on the counter, Billy began emptying them and putting everything away. Impressive, she thought, for a child that age.
“I’m in kindergarten this year,” he said shyly.
“That’s wonderful, Billy. Do you have a lot of friends?” Kyla really wanted to help Vivian, but was afraid to offend the woman by offering.
“Not yet, but I just started at my new school,” Billy said and then a sheen of tears appeared in his eyes.
Before Kyla could ask another question, the teapot whistled.
“Do you like cream and sugar with your tea?” Vivian asked.
“Yes to both, please,” Kyla answered before thanking Vivian and joining her at the small kitchen table.
“Ah, a woman after my own heart. Not too many people like cream in their tea,” she said with a smile.
“I spent a semester of college in London and got used to the overseas habit. Now, I’m hooked,” Kyla said with a fond smile. At that moment in her life, everything had been beautiful and the world was at her fingertips. She had never been able to break the European way of drinking her tea, and she hadn’t want to.
By the time she left, Kyla had even more questions about Vivian and Billy, and the sadness that seemed to reside in both of their eyes even when they smiled. Hopefully she would get to know them both well enough to feel comfortable asking where his parents were. But what if it was something awful? She didn’t know if she could handle that.
Sometimes, questions were better left unanswered. As she moved into her apartment and looked at the picture of her family she kept on her living room wall, she thought of all the unanswered questions she still had about her own life and those nearest and dearest to her.
Curiosity caused pain. Maybe she should just not worry about Vivian and Billy. And yet, as she moved toward her room, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. With a sigh, she got ready for bed. This holiday season continued to hang heavy on her shoulders.
Chapter Eight
Three days.
It had been three long days and nights, and Tanner hadn’t managed to get two seconds alone with his neighbor. Today was the day. He’d been avoiding letting her know that he was Santa, but she was good at avoiding things, too — or rather at avoiding him. He hadn’t seen her in the apartment building since the day he moved in.
He’d paced the long, freezing-cold hallways, and he’d already called in to have the heating fixed. They were sure taking their sweet time getting the problem solved, though. How had his tenants put up with this for so long? Anyway, there he paced, hoping Kyla would come out.
She never did.
So here he was at the mall an hour early, with a cup of coffee in his hand. He’d strike up a conversation, ask her out on a date, and they’d go from there.
Oh, hell. What in the world had he been thinking? He couldn’t ask her out on a date. He wasn’t allowed to go anywhere but the stupid mall and the even stupider apartments. How was he supposed to get laid when he wasn’t able to use his best moves?
Wait!
He didn’t need to buy her an expensive dinner to get her beneath him. He was great-looking and charming, wasn’t he? And he knew how to get a girl. Not that he’d had to do much chasing. Women naturally chased after him. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t remember a time he’d had to be the pursuer. Of course, that was when he could flash his money and family name, and he couldn’t do that now. This might prove an interesting challenge — courting a dame with just his looks and charm alone. Challenge accepted.
This could be fun.
Stepping into the break room, which also happened to be the changing area, he smiled when he found Kyla sitting on the bench, her costume in hand as she rubbed at her eyes sleepily.
“Good morning,” he said.
Her head snapped up and she eyed him warily.
“What are you doing here?” She glanced over at the door as if she thought he was a stalker ready to pounce and she was ensuring a safe exit strategy.
He’d never had that reaction before. No, it wasn’t quite the ego boost he’d been expecting from her.
“I’m just getting ready to go to work,” he said as he approached — slowly, carefully, unthreateningly, he hoped — and held out the coffee.