Christmas Star Sapphire (Inspirational Romance): A Second Generation Jewel Series Novella (The Jewel Series Book 6) Page 8
“Blah, God!” Joseph mocked, making a wheezing sound as he struggled to shift his body upward. “Don’t try to talk to me about your imaginary friend.”
“You rather we talk about ‘Mother Nature’ some more?” Joe felt his eyebrow raise in irony. “At least my God is real. And He is so powerful and so loving that even a man as evil as you can still live an eternity in glory just by accepting His gift.”
His father chuffed. “Oh, right. Gifts. Like from magical elves. It’s Christmas time, after all. All kinds of gifts on Santa’s sleigh. Fairy tales. Don’t preach about some deity that doesn’t exist. My whole life? I was my own god, boy.”
With a sad smile, Joe nodded. “And you ruled over your greedy little kingdom with force and wrath. Right this second, you’re just hours or even minutes away from learning just how small you are and just how big my God is. I’m sorry I never tried to tell you about Him before.”
“I don’t believe in heaven, boy. After I die, I’m just going to go rot in the dirt like your mother.”
Joe sighed. “I hope that’s the worst thing that happens to you, Joseph, but I actually believe you’re in for one hell of a surprise.”
“Think so? You’re the one who’s in for a big surprise after I’m gone.” His father’s voice sounded almost jolly.
Joe had no idea what his father was talking about and quite frankly didn’t care. He had long since learned not to take the bait. He looked at the clock and felt some relief that his ten minutes had come and gone. “Good-bye, Joseph.”
As he turned and pushed the button for the door, his father rasped behind him, “Get back here! I want to tell you about your surprise!” He didn’t even turn to look back. He could not bring himself to. He walked through the unit, past the nurses’ station, and through the double doors that led to the waiting room.
While he didn’t pause to speak to his family, he did glance in their direction. If one person had called him back, he would have probably stopped. But no one did.
MADELINE sucked on a piece of ginger candy, fighting back the remnants of air sickness that always struck her when flying in her father’s private jet. On Christmas Eve, one simply did not catch a flight out of the Keys. Her brother and his wife Faith had learned that themselves. So, she commandeered the jet, sat next to Faith who flew it so the company pilot could enjoy the holiday with his family, and prayed for Joe the entire flight.
Faith hadn’t stayed. She seemed to understand Madeline’s need to do this alone. Instead, she had hugged her and promised her that if she needed someone to talk to, she was available any time.
After walking through the shockingly cold air to the limo stand, she had her driver take her to the Viscolli hotel. She had called the hotel from the plane, so they expected her. The manager met her at the door, taking her personally to her penthouse suite. “This isn’t necessary,” she insisted. “It’s just me. The rest of the family’s back home.”
“I understand, Miss Viscolli,” he said, “but the room was free and we always give it to your father whenever he’s in town.”
Not wanting to press any further, she acquiesced. “Very well. What about the delivery I asked to have waiting for me?”
“Four outfits, shoes, coats, and accessories are waiting for your appraisal, Miss Viscolli. Your driver is downstairs waiting to take you wherever you need to go.”
She nodded. “Thank you. And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Miss Viscolli. We’re all very happy you’ll be here with us for the holidays.”
She walked through the suite. She stopped and ran her fingers over the branches of the Christmas tree. Smartly displayed in front of the big glass doors that led to the patio, all the decorations were gold and cream, making it an elegant sight for the few who would actually see it. At the base of the tree, a gold nativity scene sat on a cream colored base that reflected the white and yellow lights draped over the tree. She had never spent Christmas away from her family before, but she felt thankful for the last week, for the bonding time with those she loved the most. Now she had to focus on Joe and be there for him.
After a quick shower, she went through the clothes the hotel had provided from a boutique they partnered with. She chose a gray wool skirt and black sweater. After belting a thin leather belt around her waist, she clipped the black earrings in her ears, then twisted her hair into a braided bun. She touched up her makeup then transferred her wallet and room key to the new gray and black houndstooth purse.
Slipping on her brand new shoes, she hurried back downstairs, pulling her new gray wool coat on as she exited the elevator. The driver stood by the valet and the town car idled in the loading zone. She pulled the printed copy of the online newspaper article out of her pocket and handed it to the driver. “Can you take me here, please?”
The driver’s eyebrows knit in recognition of the address. “Yes, Miss Viscolli. I’ll get you there just as fast as I safely can.”
THE sniffling widow in the corner, whom he had discovered was named Jessica, set Joe’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t understand why he’d come here.
His uncles and cousins stood together off to the side. None of them had spoken to him except his oldest cousin, Jerry, the only child of his father’s younger brother, and the only one absent from the hospital a few days ago. Jerry came out of a back room as Joe entered, stopping him at the doorway and telling him that this room was reserved for family only, that the funeral would begin in two hours.
Joe had raised an eyebrow and said, “Thanks for the info, cuz.”
He’d sputtered, looked to his father for confirmation, then left him to make his way to stand by the window and wait alone. He wore his suit. He’d had it custom tailored for his college graduation, the only time he’d ever worn it before. If he had taken the path of his cousins, he would dress similarly every day with drivers taking him to the corporate offices of Westcott Marine, a company that built everything from dinghies to aircraft carriers.
Jessica hadn’t bothered to stop crying long enough to speak to him, though she did look at him over her handkerchief once – with suspicious, narrowed eyes that belied the supposed tears. He was kind of surprised at how young she looked. If she was older than his twenty-six years, it wasn’t by much.
When a uniformed maid brought Jessica a little girl with a shock of red hair and a little gray dress, he actually felt his jaw drop. The child couldn’t be more than two years old. Jessica took her and stood her next to her chair, straightening the gray and white polka-dotted bow in her hair. Joe stepped forward before he could talk himself out of it.
He ignored the mother and knelt next to the little girl. “Hello, there. What’s your name?”
She put her two middle fingers in her mouth and stared at him with big green eyes. He looked up at Jessica quizzically. She answered him, “Rosie.”
He looked back at the little girl and held out his hand. “Hi, Rosie. I’m Joe.” He pointed at his hair. “We have the same red hair. I think our daddy gave it to us.”
She cautiously pulled her fingers out of her mouth and pointed at her hair. “Hair!” Then she giggled and reached for Joe’s whiskered chin. “Hair!”
He held his hands out and she stepped forward, letting him scoop her up. “That’s right. Hair.” He looked at Rosie’s mother as he stood. “How old is she?”
The woman sniffled one more time before answering. “She’ll be two Valentine’s Day.”
“Born on Saint Valentine’s Day. That’s just a few months away.”
He put his lips to her cheek and inhaled the smell of baby shampoo and little girl. She giggled and pushed at his chin. “Hair!”
Clearly his whiskers tickled, so he kissed her neck and made her giggle with sheer joy. Whatever part of his heart had ripped apart at the sight of his father in that bed started to mend back together again. Even Jessica’s tears stilled while she watched them play.
He carried Rosie back to the window with him, expecting her mother to protest, b
ut she never said a word. They looked out the window and talked about the world outside of the big church. She kept running her hands over his face, as if marveling at his beard.
THAT was how Madeline found him. She walked into the room reserved for the family and immediately saw Joe standing at the window, holding a little red haired girl. The resemblance between the two momentarily stopped Madeline in her tracks. She intentionally pushed back a thousand questions and smoothed her skirt. No one challenged her as she came into the room and walked straight over to him.
“Hi there,” she greeted softly, putting a hand on his arm.
Startled, he turned toward her. “Maddie!” His face lit in a smile. With his free hand, he cupped her cheek, his hand warming the cold skin. “What are you doing here?”
She rose to her toes and quickly kissed his lips.
“Kisses!” Rosie observed.
Madeline grinned, then looked around at the somber and serious group. “I couldn’t very well send you into the lion’s den without backup, now could I?” His fingers flexed against her hairline and he stared into her eyes. She whispered, “You should have asked me to come.”
“I couldn’t pull you away from your family Christmas for this.” He ran his hand over her shoulder before touching the little girl’s hair. “Apparently, I have a sister. Madeline Viscolli? This is Rosemary Westcott. Rosie.”
“So this is your sister. The obituary said you had a sister and I wondered why you never mentioned her.” Madeline smiled and touched the girl’s cheek. The toddler immediately tried to launch herself into her arms. Madeline laughed and took her from Joe, shifting her purse to accommodate the extra weight. “What a doll you are.”
“She is. I would have mentioned her if I knew she existed.”
She looked at him over Rosie’s head. His eyes looked sad. “I guess it’s good you came then.”
With a sigh, he said, “I just hate that it interrupted your holiday.”
“I’ve had a full week with my family. Being here for you is more important than anything else in my life right now.”
He smiled and cupped her face again. “I keep trying to find the words to thank God for bringing you into my life, but I keep falling short.”
Rosie lifted a hand, fingers damp from her mouth, and touched the other side of her face. Madeline felt emotion flood her heart and bring tears to her eyes. “Likewise, Joe.”
“You look beautiful, by the way. I know that at a funeral that should be a nonissue, but you really do. You always do.”
More pleased than she should be, she reached out and ran a finger over his silver and black tie. “You clean up nicely yourself. I keep seeing you in my mind in a T-shirt and deck shoes.”
He smiled. “I’m incredibly happy to see you. Overjoyed. And, I promise you than an hour after this ordeal, this suit will be nothing but a memory.”
As she laughed, a young woman with frosted blonde hair approached. She wore a tight black dress that fell just above mid-thigh and four-inch heels. “I’ll take her. It’s almost time.”
The little girl launched herself at her mother, who teetered a bit in her heels. “Let’s go now, little one. Time to say bye-bye to daddy.”
“Bye!” Rosie giggled, pointing at Joe.
Madeline slipped her hand into his and leaned against him. “How can I pray for you?”
He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Just to give me strength to get through the next few hours.”
CHAPTER 9
“IF the child had been a boy, then my decisions would be different. As it is, I’m standing by it, and if the tart I married doesn’t like it, she can go back to the rock I pulled her out from under.”
Madeline sat with Joe in the back of the attorney’s office, holding his hand. She couldn’t believe the video she’d just witnessed. In the video he’d attached to his last will and testament, Joseph Westcott had berated his young wife for giving birth to a girl. Apparently, he’d had nothing to do with them since. Her tears, from what Madeline could ascertain, had been caused by the knowledge that she suddenly found herself a single parent, penniless and homeless.
Joe, on the other hand, had just inherited his father’s vast fortune. As majority shareholder of Westcott Marine, he received fifty-two percent of the company, while his uncles each owned twenty-four percent. His father had structured the shares that way on purpose so that even if his brothers joined forces, they couldn’t execute a coup d’état. Joe suddenly realized that his uncles had misguidedly thought that his father would split his shares between his wife and daughter, which would give them an opening for a buyout offer or even a hostile takeover while Rosie’s shares remained in trust.
Instead, his father had insidiously outmaneuvered absolutely everyone. In willing everything to his estranged son, he ensured that his brothers couldn’t get what they wanted, his wife wouldn’t get what she needed, his daughter was left out in the cold, and Joe was left holding the bag – stuck with everything he never wanted. He sat next to Madeline in stunned silence. She didn’t know what to say or how to say it to him, so she just allowed him some time and peace to digest the information.
His furious uncles left the office in a rage, their sons following close on their heels. When he stood, she stood with him, and followed him to Jessica’s side. She sat there, looking so broken, with tears running down her face, smearing her makeup. Madeline sat next to her and put a hand on top of hers.
“Jessica,” he began, then, “May I call you Jessica?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Madeline squeezed the woman’s hand. “It will be.”
“How can you say that? The second he died, all my accounts were frozen. I couldn’t even get a car to come here. One of those awful men had to arrange a ride for me to come to my own husband’s funeral. They only did it because they thought I was going to inherit. Me or Rosie.” She gestured toward the door. “Now they left me here. I don’t even have a ride home or a token for the bus.”
Joe knelt next to the chair and took her hand. “Listen to me, Jessica. I don’t want the house or any of the life that comes with it.” He looked over at the attorney. “I’m sure there’s some way I can legally rent it to you for a dollar a year.”
The attorney shook his head. “You won’t need to charge her anything. She can just stay there, if those are your wishes.”
“I don’t want to stay there. I hated that house.” She wiped her eyes and stood, and Joe stood next to her. “Marrying that man was the worst thing I ever did, until I got my Rosie. She and I moved into the pool house when I came home from the hospital after having her. It gave us a place to stay out of his sight, which made life easier for me.”
He looked at the attorney again. “Could we draw up a trust for her and Rosie?”
He nodded. “Of course. You can specify a monthly stipend, if you’d like, and a trust fund that matures for her daughter at a certain age.”
Madeline chimed in, understanding what Joe wanted to do. “Let’s talk about what an adequate figure would be. Consider it child support from her father, if you want.”
Jessica’s eyes filled with tears again. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Joe smiled. “I’m just taking care of my sister.” Madeline knew he could have added, the way no one took care of me.
“I vote we celebrate tonight,” Madeline said with a grin. “It’s Christmas Eve. I have your gift here. You said you packed mine and brought it with you.” She lifted the spoon of mousse to her lips and let the silky smoothness of the rich buttery chocolate concoction fill her mouth with happiness. Eyes closed, she sighed. When she opened her eyes again, she found Joe grinning at her from across the hotel dining room table.
“That good, huh?”
“You really should try it.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like chocolate.” Instead, he dipped his spoon into his apple pie. “Now, apple pie
, since, you know, I’m an American, is just good citizenship.” He chewed and swallowed, then pointed his finger at her. “Did you know that chocolate was used for currency by both the Maya and the Aztecs?”
With a laugh, she said, “I actually knew that one!” After a few more bites of mousse she said, “And you never answered me. Come on. I want to open presents tonight.”
“Have you no patience?”
“None.” Contentedly, she set her spoon down and picked up her cup of coffee. “I have absolutely no patience and I’m about to start pouting.”
He snorted. “You wouldn’t know how to pout.”
“True. But I’m willing to learn.” She stuck her lip out, but started laughing so hard that she couldn’t hold the look.
Joe held up his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. You got me. I am surrendering to your feminine wiles.”
She signed the check and they walked to the elevator together. “Let me stop at my room,” he said, “and I’ll meet you upstairs.”
The elevator let him out on the fifth floor, and she continued the ride to the Penthouse floor. She went into the suite and got his wrapped presents out of the bedroom closet and put them under the tree. While she waited for him, she lit the gas fire logs, turned on the stereo and found some Christmas hymns, and went into the kitchen to get a pot of tea started.
A few minutes later, she heard a knock at the door. She swung the door open just as the teapot started to whistle. Joe stood there, still wearing his suit from the day. He looked so handsome, so authoritative, that it made her heart skip a little beat. “Hi,” she said with a grin, as if it hadn’t been five minutes since she last saw him. “Come in. I am making tea.”
All Viscolli hotels kept records of what staples to stock in the kitchens for her family. Whenever she stayed in one, she could count on fresh lemons, her favorite tea, and local honey. She added water to the pot, which already contained the tea bags, and carried the tray into the living room. She set it on the table in front of the fireplace. Outside the big window, a light snow had started falling.