“What’s your salon called?” Carlisle asked.
“La Chevelure.”
“Hair?”
Merry gave a soft laugh, and the joyfulness of it struck Carlisle, despite her frustration with her employer.
“But itsoundssophisticated, you know? The owner wants so badly to be seen as a big shot hairstylist. She reminds me of one of those early wannabe Hollywood actresses, searching for ways to be discovered.” Merry rolled her eyes.
“Do you enjoy working there?”
“I do. A lot of my clients have become dear friends.”
The hint of sadness which came into her voice intrigued him. Carlisle wished he knew her well enough to inquire about it. It sounded to him as though she enjoyed her job. Was it then the supervisor or owner who put that edge to her voice when she spoke of it?
He glanced to where Linda patiently worked with the two little children to fix a section of the garland scarf that wasn’t quite right. He wondered if her only source of income came from providing childcare, or if she had other employment outside of her home.
“Does your mother tend children during the day as well?” he asked, keeping his voice soft.
“No, she designs dresses. When I was young, she used to make costumes and do alterations for one of the local summer theaters. When my older brother’s prom date couldn’t find a dress she liked, he asked Mom if she could make her one. I helped, but she did most of the work. Mom’s got a great eye for what looks good on a particular figure, regardless of what’s considered in fashion. She helped a couple of other girls with their dresses too. Before she knew it, people were coming to her with dress requests. It got so big she had to hire more help and rent a business location.” Merry crossed her arms and held herself as though she needed the support. “She didn’t start taking in children until after Dad died. I think it’s because the house was so empty.”
“Yes,” Carlisle said, thinking back to how difficult it was to enter his apartment after Cressy’s death. “One takes for granted the simple presence of a loved one in the home.”
“Until they’re not there anymore,” Merry agreed, her understanding gaze meeting his.
“All right, you two,” her mother called, “I think we’re ready to do the decorations.”
Carlisle spent the most pleasant evening he could remember decorating the tree. Merry and her mother were such uplifting people. They encouraged the children to sing Christmas songs and hummed the theme from the Harry Potter movies. By the time he’d lifted Alex to put the sorting hat on the top, Grace’s eyes had begun to droop.
“This has been a delightful evening,” Carlisle said, picking up his daughter who immediately rested her head on his shoulder. “And all for a good cause. I hope your efforts are rewarded, and the tree fetches a large sum for the hospital. Will you be needing help to deliver the tree to the festival?”
“No, thank you,” Linda said. “Some of my staff have already volunteered to help with that part.”
“I should get this lady home to bed.” Carlisle patted Grace’s back, surprised at his disappointment that he wouldn’t be needed. It was absurd anyway. He had work to do.
“I made some cookies for when we finished,” Linda said.
“And I brought hot chocolate,” Merry added with a shrug. “It’s tradition.”
Carlisle hesitated, finding it a temptation to continue this pleasant evening with these delightful ladies. It was, however, getting late, and he did have an early meeting the next day. Grace hadn’t stirred, and her breathing had already slowed. He really must get her home to bed. Carlisle pointed his fob toward his car outside and started it to get it warm.
“I’m afraid we must take a rain check,” he whispered. “Thank you again for tonight.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Linda said, already retrieving Grace’s coat from the closet. She handed it to Merry, who carefully slid the sleeves up his daughter’s arms.
Surprised not to have heard anything from Alex, Carlisle glanced over to the living room by the skyscape model and found the little boy had fallen asleep on the floor nearby.
“Don’t we need to move the table?” he asked, his voice low.
“Mom and I will do that. You go ahead and help Grace into her car seat. I’ll get her bag.” Merry brushed aside a curl from his daughter’s face.
The tenderness made Carlisle’s heart give an odd twitch. When Merry stepped away to get the bag, he glanced at Linda, noting the same expression. This family had so much love. His chest swelled with gratitude at their willingness to share it with his motherless daughter.
When he stepped outside, he found it was snowing again. He brushed some away from the door so it wouldn’t drop on Grace when he put her in the seat. She stirred, her eyes opening.
“I love you, Papa,” she mumbled before pressing a warm kiss on his cheek, her lids already drooping again.
Carlisle straightened and found Merry dancing in place to keep warm while she held out Grace’s backpack to him. He’d just spent another pleasant evening with her. Did she already have plans for the Christmas Ball? She didn’t own a business of her own, but Linda did. Would Merry attend as her mother’s plus-one? If not, would she consider attending with him instead?
