Christmas Every Day Part 45

He had told her about that. Time and again. It had been her favorite bedtime story. Didn't he remember? "You named me after the place where you met Mom."

"Yes, but it wasn't Saratoga the city. It was the racetrack"

Just the way the kids at school had always teased her. " " Go on, "

she said quietly.

He drew a long breath. His mouth felt dry, but he pressed on. "We met when she was standing in line in front of me at the two-dollar window at Saratoga. We were both betting on the same horse." He smiled ruefully. "The horse won. I told your mother she brought me luck. She confessed that she had never placed a bet before. She had come with her girlfriend on a lark." Shame entered his eyes. "For me, betting wasn't a lark, it was an obsession."

Sara could see that the admission was difficult for him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and pressed on like a tired mountain climber trying to reach the summit.

"I managed to get it under control for a while. But then I started playing again. Nothing big at first. It still got the better of me. I won big a few times and then I was hooked all over again. I started betting more and more, until I was betting money I didn't have." He sighed heavily. "We had to sell the house."

Sara could only stare at her father, stunned. Everything was falling apart. Just as it had then. "That's why we moved? You said you wanted to go to a different neighborhood"

"I would have said anything to keep you from finding out the truth. For a while I honestly thought I could get my betting under control, but it was controlling me. Underneath it all was always that hope, that dream that.l could get all the money back that I had lost and set us up for life."

He turned and stared out the window, unable to face her any longer. He was afraid of what he would see in Sara's eyes. " " One day your mother said that I loved gambling more than I loved her. That if I did love her more, I would have stopped gambling when she asked me to. She didn't understand that I couldn't. " A streetlight cast a pool of light on his front lawn. He stared at it, remembering the pain his decision had cost him. " I didn't want to leave her trapped in a marriage where she felt unloved. I agreed to get a divorce on the condition that she would never tell you about my gambling. "

Sara thought back over the years. So many things made sense now that had seemed odd at the time. How could she have been so stupid, so blind?

He looked at her reflection in the window. " " For a year I fought it, hoping that we could get back together again, become a family. But there didn't sesm to be any use. I couldn't stop going to the track.

So I dropped out of your life. I didn't want you to be disillusioned about me. "

She wasn't the only one who had been blind. "Don't you see? Your turning your back on me was what disillusioned me. So, you have a problem "

"Had," he corrected firmly, finally turning around. There was pride in his voice. "I joined Gamblers Anonymous I've stayed away from the rare track and betting for almost a year now." A familiar smile quirked his lips. Sara recognized it as her own. "I don't even allow myself to watch " "Mr. Ed" reruns on cable. "

Sara didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. All those years of blaming herself, of lying awake at night, trying to figure out what it was that she had done wrong to make him leave. They had all been wasted. It hadn't been her fault at all.

Hesitating, Sara forced herself to make contact. She laid a hand on her father's shoulder. He covered it with his own. When he looked at her there was grat.i.tude in his eyes.

She was still angry at him, angry about the years that he had allowed to be cast away. Years neither one of them could ever get back.

Raymond searched her face and saw the beginning of forgiveness there.

He felt like crying himself.

"It wasn't you I pushed away, Sara. It was myself."

Nothing would ever remove the sadness from his eyes, Sara realized. He had been hurt just as much as she had by all those empty years.

"But I've paid for it." Raymond opened his arms to her, but made no move, still afraid. "And I'm not pus.h.i.+ng anymore"

Sara moved into his arms, embracing him. And this time she let the tears flow freely.

Chapter 14.

Nik drove up to the curb and shut off the engine. For a moment he just sat in the car looking at the house bathed in the light of the late-afternoon sun. Sara's car was in the driveway. That meant she was home. Good. He hadn't called ahead because he was afraid she'd leave.

Nik unbuckled his seat belt.

It had been an exceedingly hectic week. He'd hardly had time to draw two breaths in succession. There had certainly been no time for any meaningful dialogue between himself and Sara. Any words they might have exchanged on the subject of last Sat.u.r.day night would probably have deteriorated into a shouting match, given his harried state and Sara's wariness. For a whole week, when he did have any time to talk to her, Sara had quipped and bantered, keeping him at bay. Like a circus ammal trainer who cracked her whip and held up a chair between herself and the lion, Sara had been warding him off with her sharp tongue.

It was as if their night of love and discovery hadn't even happened.

But it had, and he was resolved to make her face it, Face it with him.

Whatever there was standing in their way,

keeping her from him, Nik intended to blow it out of the water. He wouldn't have come as far as he had in his own life if he had meekly accepted the inevitable, or bowed readily to defeat when the first shot was fired. i If anything, he thrived on adversity. And Sara was as adversarial as they came.

Nik pocketed his keys, still watching the house for some sign of her.

"This is war, Saratoga Santangelo, and I'm about to fire another salvo at that sweet little broadside of yours: '

Determined, Nik intended to fight any way he could to get through to Sara. Dirty if necessary. His first line of offense involved food and Sara's father.

Nik got out of the car and circled to the trunk. It was filled with food-entrees, desserts, everything that was necessary to prepare the type of feast that would bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened critic of Italian food. Kane had mentioned to him that Raymond had a weakness for

Italian food, and Nik had gone to work.

Nik decided to begin the battle slowly. Carrying a covered dish of cannelloni, he walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

He rang twice before the door finally opened. Sara stood in the doorway. She was barefoot, wearing a baggy T-s.h.i.+rt and frayed cutoff shorts that were cut so high on one thigh it had him tightening his grip on the handles of the serving dish.

Sara was annoyed at the instant flutter that went through her at the sight of Nik on her doorstep. There wasn't anything she could do about it. But she could manage to maintain a cool, flippant expression even though her pulse had accelerated like an adolescent's at the sight of her first crush.

Sara leaned one hand against the doorjamb, blocking his way. She glanced at the covered dish and raised a questioning brow. "I already gave at the office."

Nik had seen the momentary flicker of desire in her eyes.

It was all the encouragement he needed. " " The office decided to give something back. "

Stubbornly she remained fixed in the doorway. "Why aren't you at the restaurant, Sinclair? it's only six-thirty."

Nik nudged her aside with his shoulder. Sara reluctantly stepped back and let him walk in. "It's Sat.u.r.day."

That wasn't an answer. Jennifer had told her that Nik worked six days a week and half days on Sunday most of the time.

She fisted her hands at her waist, challenging him. "You took last Sat.u.r.day off."

"I'm becoming decadent." Nik looked around the room , but didn't see Raymond. He nodded to_ ward the right, taking a guess. "The kitchen this way?"

"Yes, but-"

Nik was already leaving her behind. She picked up speed, reaching the kitchen at the same time he did.

Why was he bringing her food? "We're not a charity case, Sinclair."

He ignored the antagonistic tone of her voice. For some reason Sara was afraid of him. He intended to find out why.