Page 8 of Even More Christmas Magic and Romance (Holiday Hiccups #3)

Eight

WHEN I CAME down to breakfast the next morning, I heard voices in the kitchen and smelled cinnamon rolls. I soon found out that Barbara had been baking.

She gave me a happy smile when I walked into the kitchen. “I know you’re watching your sugar, Gloria, so I cut the amount in half and made sure to be moderate when adding cinnamon.”

Stanley came over and kissed me. “I tried a couple of the rolls, and they’re delicious.”

I looked at Barbara. “I haven’t had a cinnamon bun in quite a while. Thank you for making them.”

Stanley gestured towards a chair. “Sit down, and I’ll make you some tea to go with the bun.”

Before I could do as he suggested, there was a loud knock on the front door. Ben had followed me downstairs and went running to the foyer, barking. He considers himself the official greeter, but we’re trying to teach him to be a quieter greeter.

“I wonder who that could be,” I said.

Stanley quickly followed Ben to the door. “I might have an idea,” he called back to us.

Barbara put her hands around herself in a tight hug. “Oh my, I hope it’s not who I think it is.”

Their comments helped me to figure out who our visitor probably was. My hunch was confirmed when I heard Stanley’s greeting.

“Dad, what are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing, Stanley? I’m finding out what’s gotten into your mother.”

Barbara hurried over to me. “I’m so sorry that I’ve brought my troubles into your beautiful home, especially now with the baby. But I’ll be gone very soon,” she said as she ran out of the kitchen.

I was still in my robe and nightgown, so I stayed where I was. However, it was easy to hear Stan Sr.’s reaction to seeing Barbara as she rushed past him and continued up the stairs without saying a word.

“Barbara! Where are you going?” Stan Sr. yelled. “Don’t you want to talk about what you’re doing here?”

There was no reply from Stanley’s mother, only some murmuring from Stan Sr. and some comments by my Stanley.

I didn’t know what to expect after that, but very little time passed before Barbara’s footsteps and the squeak on the stairs were heard again.

I peeked out of the kitchen in time to see Barbara coming down the stairs.

She had her bag in her hand so I figured she’d returned to her room and gathered up her things.

Her movements looked almost panicky as she silently hurried past her husband and son.

In a flash, the front door flew open, and she was gone.

Stan Sr. and son Stanley both remained motionless, staring at the door.

That’s when I made my move, hurrying out of the kitchen.

I wanted to get dressed and be prepared for what happened next.

Once in my bedroom, lots went through my mind as I slipped into a sweater and slacks. I knew Stanley’s parents disagreed on certain subjects, but they stayed together in spite of it all. It seemed a shame that they might go their separate ways forever.

As I was going over events, Stanley came into the room. I’d never seen him look so pale except for the time when he’d been very sick. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, Gloria,” Stanley said, taking my hands in his. “I never expected either of my parents to act this way.”

I shared what his mother said about not wanting to disrupt our home with her problems. “She looked so upset when she left the kitchen.”

“My father is in quite a state too. He’s always depended on my mother being there through thick and thin.”

“Did he go after her?” I asked.

“No, after the way she looked at him, he doesn’t seem to know how to respond.” Stanley squeezed my hands a little tighter. “At the moment, he’s in the living room. I tried to talk to him, but he’s not saying anything.”

“He probably needs time,” I offered.

Stanley let out a heavy breath. “It’s hard to see my dad like this. He’s always projected an invincible spirit, but not anymore. After Mom slammed the door in his face, he looks like someone beat him up.”

I nodded knowingly. “Change can do that to a person. Last year, I felt like all my safety lines had been cut, and I was adrift in a sea of pain.”

As I spoke, Barbara’s distraught face flashed in my mind. I’d seen the panic in her eyes, and I knew that panic. “When so many emotions surfaced at once, I felt very alone. I bet your mom feels the same way.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Stanley said. “What do you suggest?”

“I bet she’s gone back to the motel she was staying at. You should go check on her. Maybe she’ll talk to you.”

“Do you think I should ask my dad to go along?”

I shook my head. “From the way she acted, it’s plain she doesn’t want anything to do with him right now. But he can wait here while you’re gone.”

Stanley put his hand on my pregnant belly. “I don’t want you in the middle of this, especially now, with the baby and all.”

“I’ll be fine,” I smiled. “I’m concerned about your parents, but I’m not stressed out about them. Maybe because it’s not my problem. It’s almost a relief to know I’m not the one losing it.”

With some additional urging on my part, Stanley finally agreed to go and check on his mother. In the meantime, I decided I might be able to help his dad, or at least I could get the man some breakfast.

I went downstairs with Stanley, kissed him goodbye and headed into the living room.

Stan Sr. was sitting quietly on the couch, petting Ben.

Our pup was lying next to him, looking very peaceful.

I cleared my throat to let Stan Sr. know I was near.

He immediately glanced up, tried to give me a pleasant look and failed. He got to his feet.

His voice had a gentle quality when he spoke. “Gloria, you must think me very rude, barging into your home like I did. Please forgive me.”

“Stan, Dad, um, sorry, I don’t know if you want me to refer to you as—” I hesitated. I hadn’t meant to call my father-in-law, dad. But for some reason, it felt right.

Stan Sr. finally managed a smile. “Barbara and I always wanted a daughter. To hear you refer to me as dad feels very nice.” His face lit up when he spoke, and he stared at me with eyes as blue as Stanley’s.

An awkward moment of silence followed, but the smell of baking was still in the air. “I’m hungry. How about you, Dad? I’d love to fix you breakfast.”

Stan Sr. shook his head. “No way. But if you’re hungry, I’m pretty good in the kitchen. I’ll fix you whatever you’d like.”

I smiled back. Food is definitely a way to my heart. “Some eggs and toast would be nice,” I said.

Stan Sr. nodded. “Coming right up. Just give me a quick tour of where you keep your pots and pans.”

There was something about the man’s desire to take care of me that was endearing.

Plus, his usual stiff attitude had been replaced by a softer approach.

“Right this way,” I said as I led him towards the kitchen.

After a brief demonstration of where everything was stowed away, he was at the sink, washing his hands and insisting that I sit down and relax.

Again, I was reminded of my Stanley. Both men have a very nurturing way about them.

On previous visits, Stan Sr. must not have felt there was an opportunity to reveal how caring he could be.

As we chatted back and forth, I felt totally at ease with him.

I also insisted that he fix himself breakfast too.

All was going fine as we ate our meal together until I went to the counter, uncovered a basket of cinnamon rolls and brought it to the table.

When I offered Stan Sr. one of the rolls, he pulled back.

I realized my mistake at once. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Stan Sr. relaxed again. “No, no, there’s nothing to be sorry about.

It’s just that I recognize Barbara’s baking.

She always likes to twist rolls a certain way.

But you don’t need to be thinking about any of that.

” He stood up. “Gloria, dear, none of this is fair to you or Stanley. I’ll leave if you think it best, but before I go, could I ask you something? ”

I shrugged. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Is there anything that you need? I know my boy tries his best, but if there’s anything you want, let me know. If I can help in any way, I will.”

I looked at my empty cup. “More tea would be great. And then let’s go into the living room and chat for a bit.”

Stan Sr. stared at the cinnamon rolls. “When I leave, would it be okay if I take a couple of these along? The way things are going, I might never get another chance to taste something Barbara made.”

I went to the counter, rummaged in a drawer and retrieved a plastic container. I put several of the rolls in the container and handed it to Stan. “Don’t give up on your marriage, Dad. Sometimes things get worse before they get better.”