"Oh, Joseph, I love you," she laughed, and then stopped short. She hadn't meant for that to come out-not exactly like that, and not here in the hallway of his house with ice cream all over her face.

The laughter in his eyes was replaced by a look that she'd come to know well.

"That's probably the best thing I've heard all day," he said softly.

He cupped her face in his hands then bent down, slowly. His mouth grazed the tip of her nose, "I..." then slipped to the left corner of her mouth, "...love," changed directions and moved to the right with startling accuracy, "...you," caught the surprised gasp coming out of her mouth by covering it with his own, "...too."

By the time the kiss had ended, Molly was completely devoid of traces of ice cream as well as makeup, and was contemplating a second trip to Braums just to get her face washed like this again.

"I think I've made my point," she whispered, closed her eyes and stepped back from his embrace while she still had the strength to stand.

"You're leaving?" he mumbled, unable to think past the ache she'd created and the fire that she'd built.

"Good night, darling," she said softly, smiled and waved, and shut the door behind her on her way out.

Joseph stared blindly at the closed door and wondered what the h.e.l.l had just happened. Whatever it was, it had left him in serious condition. Taking a second shower was suddenly the uppermost thing on his mind. Long-and cold. It was either that, or try to figure out what Molly'd meant. He opted for the shower. It would be simpler than trying to figure out what went on in a woman's mind.

For Carly, the morning had started off perfectly. As if on cue, the call from Enrique that she'd been waiting for had come while Marjorie was fixing breakfast. Now she was tossing clothes into her suitcase with wild abandon, gleefully dancing from closet to bed and back again as she continued to pack. She could still see the curious look on Marjorie's face when she'd handed her the phone.

"It's some man...for you," Marjorie said shortly. "How did he know to call you here?"

Carly simply smiled and shrugged, slipped the receiver to her ear and waved her thanks, indicating the need for privacy.

Marjorie left the room, but not so far away that she couldn't discern this call had been expected. She began to wonder what other surprises she might have in store.

"It serves me right," she muttered, and hurried off to finish dressing for work. "Next time, I swear I'll mind my own business."

She had no way of knowing that her guest would be gone when she returned that night. If she had, the day would have gone a whole lot faster.

Sure enough, Carly left the house only minutes behind Marjorie, and as the cab maneuvered the thick morning traffic, she did a mental count of her money and her good fortune. While she was a tad bit shy of the first, Carly felt herself more than compensated by her luck on the last.

When the cab pulled up at the terminal to Will Rogers Airport, Carly took a deep breath and resisted the urge to keep looking over her shoulder. She kept telling herself she was home free. But until her plane actually left the ground, she wouldn't feel safe. Visions of being stopped at the gate by plainclothes detectives had alternated with visions of angry ex-wives and unpaid bill collectors.

When her flight was called, she was the first in line. The pilot winked at her as she stepped on board, admiring her slender figure and elegant white two-piece suit.

Carly, being Carly, quickly accepted the innocent flirtation as her due. She took a seat by the window, buckled up even before it was time, and leaned back with a slow sigh of relief. She closed her eyes, ignoring the heavyset woman who took the seat beside her, and tried to concentrate on the best way to permanently insinuate herself into Enrique Salazar's life. Carly had already made up her mind that a "south of the border" address was to be her next destination.

A young woman came up the aisle carrying a small child in her arms, obviously struggling with excess baggage as well as the baby, and for a moment, Carly was reminded of what she was leaving behind. Just the thought of being in this woman's shoes made her ill. As the child began to cry, she looked at the woman with a mixture of pity and disgust and didn't bother to lower her voice as she remarked, "Oh, great. A squalling brat all the way to Baja."

The woman sitting beside her frowned, but the new mother didn't seem to mind. She simply slid her bags off her arms, letting the stewardess put them into the overhead rack, as she quickly seated herself and her baby to clear the aisle. Carly watched as the woman seemed to sigh with relief at being off her feet. As the young mother began surveying her surroundings and her seat-mates, Carly thought about looking away before she was caught staring. But she didn't.

It was one of those moments in a person's lifetime when just for a second you connect with a stranger in an unexpected way, because the woman stared straight into Carly Jordan's eyes. Oddly, it was as if they could sense each other's thoughts. Carly's disgust. The weary patience of a mother running on empty.

And then the child settled, lying against his mother's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and very slowly he slid his chubby little arms around her neck. In spite of his intention to remain alert, his little eyes fell shut.

As the child's exhaustion became obvious, his show of affection quickly took the mother's attention. She broke contact with Carly to look down upon her baby's face, smiling gently as she quietly kissed the tip of his nose.

The action was nothing Carly hadn't seen parents do a thousand times in her life. It had never affected her before, so she wasn't expecting the wash of emotions that almost overwhelmed her. For a second, the bond between that mother and child physically hurt her. She inhaled sharply, then looked away, staring instead out the tiny window onto the tarmac below.

When the plane began to move, she breathed a slow sigh of relief as the runway began to fade from view. Higher and higher the jet climbed into the air, and the farther she got from her past, the thicker the tears that blinded her vision. Blinking furiously, she focused her attention on the things that mattered, and furiously discarded the unwanted sentiment from her thoughts.

What the h.e.l.l is wrong with me? When I get to Enrique, I'll have everything I've ever wanted.

And by the time drinks were being served, she'd convinced herself that it was true.

Marjorie came home to a short thank-you note and a blessedly quiet house. Her guest was gone.

"No saying where to, or who with," Marjorie muttered. "And she didn't leave my key. That settles it. I'm changing the locks."

But Carly Jordan's departure wasn't a shock. It was a welcome relief. For the first time since she'd sent that ill-fated letter, Marjorie slept like a log. And when she arrived at work the next day, even Joseph noticed her lighthearted att.i.tude and the constant smile on her face.

"You're awfully chipper this morning," he said, as she handed him his mail.

Marjorie blushed. And then her conscience demanded that she at least share part of her news with him. After all, he would be the one most affected.

"I have a confession to make," she said. "I hope when I tell you that you'll understand. I never meant to get involved."

Joseph waited. Obviously something was weighing heavily on Marjorie's mind.

"The day after the incident at the day care, Miss Jordan came into the office looking for you." She flushed as she watched his mouth grow grim. "Now remember, you'd told me nothing of what had happened until much later."

Joseph nodded. "Go on."

"She came in all upset and crying, said she was searching for you. When I told her you were gone, she started crying even harder. I felt so sorry for her that before I knew it I heard myself offering her a place to stay until everything was sorted out."

"Good Lord! Do you mean to tell me that she's been staying at your house all this time?"

Marjorie looked away, unable to face him. He was angry, she could just tell. She liked working here. She didn't want to look for another job, and at her age, they were harder and harder to find.

"I'm afraid so," Marjorie said. "Once she'd settled in, I didn't quite know how to get rid of her."

Joseph sighed, then relented. He knew all too well how Carly could work a person around to her way of thinking. He'd suffered it for years, but only because he thought he'd loved her. It was only later that he realized how shallow and selfish her actions really were.

"Look, I understand how things happen," he said. "But why are you so happy about it?"

Marjorie beamed. "Because she got a phone call yesterday. To make a long story short, she's gone. And I say, good riddance!"

And then she flushed, realizing that she'd just slightly slandered Joey's natural mother.

Joseph felt a tension beginning to ease from the inside out. It was as if a great weight he'd been carrying suddenly disappeared.

"Thanks for telling me, Marjorie. That's the best news I've had in weeks."

She preened, slipped back into the chair behind her desk, smoothed the high, gray crown of her perfectly lacquered hair, and felt vindicated for what she'd done. Granted, she hadn't told him everything. But there was no need. It was enough that she regretted it and knew that it would never happen again.

The days flew by, and before anyone thought it was possible, Thanksgiving had arrived.

A light dusting of snow almost covered the dry, brittle gra.s.s as Joseph and his son made their way across the lawn to the house next door. Their invitation to have Thanksgiving dinner with Molly had been welcome. Sitting down to a real family dinner would be a first for both father and son.

Joey ran in fits and jerks, flying off to see something that caught his eye and then dashing back to get his father to come look. By the time they arrived on Molly's doorstep and rang the bell, their faces were red from the cold, but their eyes were full of sparkle.

Molly opened the door and then laughed at the pair standing on her doorstep. Joseph looked ready for a warm fire, and Joey looked as if he'd just started to enjoy the freezing temperatures. She watched as Joey began to dig through a pot of snow on her front porch that had been overflowing with geraniums earlier in the year.

"Hey! Who is that digging in my flower pot?"

Joey looked up and grinned, delighted that Molly was already into a game.

"You know me," he answered.

Molly frowned and shook her head. "No...I don't believe I do," she said, then knelt, pretending to try to guess. She tweaked his red-chilled nose and then laughed. "I know who it is! It's Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer!"

Joey shrieked with joy. "No! It's me, Joey."

Joseph scooped him off his feet and dumped him inside Molly's front door.

"So, Joey, let's get inside before we let out all of Molly's heat."

From past experience, Molly knew that Joey would not be satisfied long with the small a.s.sortment of toys she'd slowly been acc.u.mulating, she had rented several Disney videos to allay any boredom. It took Joey no longer than thirty seconds to spy the tapes, and even less to wheedle an instant viewing of the first. Within minutes, Joseph had him settled in place, watching the antics of a young beggar boy who kept escaping from soldiers on a magic carpet.

Joseph paused in the middle of the room, eyeing his son one last time, and at the same instant taking note of the warm, homey atmosphere of Molly's house, the scent of roasting turkey, the yeasty smell of fresh bread, and an underlying blanket of sweet and spices, which he hoped spelled pumpkin pie.

How is it possible that one woman could make such a difference in our lives? Suddenly, he wished he never had to make the trip back across the yard to his house, because this house felt different. This house was a home.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Molly said, and laid her head against his arm.

Joseph turned, took one look at the longing in her eyes, and swept her into his arms.

"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, sweetheart," he whispered, and tasted cinnamon on her lips.

Well aware of his son only feet away, their moment was swift, but sweet. When he could think without the room spinning at his feet, he cupped her face in his hands and feathered one last kiss across her brow.

"Everything smells wonderful," he said. "Want some help?"

I want you. She smiled. "It depends," she drawled. "If you promise not to taste more than you chop, I could use some help with the salad."

Joseph gave Joey one last glance, just to make sure he was still entranced with the movie, and then took Molly by the hand.

"I'm your man," he said. "Just lead the way."

Oh, Joseph, if only you were my man. But Molly wisely kept her wishes to herself and, as the day progressed, pretended to herself that they were truly one, big happy family. That she had every right to wash Joey's face, kiss his hurts, and make love to Joseph Rossi any d.a.m.n time she pleased.

The next day brought them back to Molly's house to finish off the leftovers of yesterday's feast. In the midst of clearing the dining room table, she was forced to keep stepping over the two males rolling on her floor in a fierce mock wrestling match. She rolled her eyes. They had too much energy to be indoors, and with that, came an idea. She dumped the last of the dishes into the sink and then made an unexpected request.

"Let's go to the mall."

"Oh my gosh," Joseph groaned, and lifted Joey over his head to keep from being pummeled. He'd been trying to watch a football game and fend off his son's latest choke hold at the same time. "You feed me solid for two days and then expect me to go shopping? You've got to be kidding."

Molly grinned. "No, I'm not! It's tradition. The day after Thanksgiving is usually the busiest shopping day of the entire Christmas season, except for Christmas Eve."

Joseph groaned. "And this is the day you want to tackle the malls? You're kidding!"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Besides, if we go, Joey will get a chance to see Santa Claus."

Joseph started to smile. The method in her madness was becoming all too clear. She didn't want to shop. She wanted to watch Joey see Santa.

"Wanna see Santa," Joey shrieked.

Joseph ruffled his son's hair in a teasing manner. "You don't even remember Santa."

But Joseph lost and Molly won, and a few minutes later they were parking at Penn Square Mall amidst the barrage of early shoppers looking for bargains.

Only when it came time to sit in Santa's lap, Joey balked, and it was Molly who did the deed. Amid laughter from onlookers, Molly took her seat and smiled and waved at Joey, who'd gotten a sudden case of bashful.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Santa said, happy for the time being to have a pretty woman in his lap rather than a wiggling, crying child. "And what do you want for Christmas, little lady?" he asked.

Suddenly, the foolishness of it all was gone as Molly leaned over and whispered in the burly man's ear, unable to say aloud, even to a stranger, the wish dearest to her heart.

The smile beneath Santa's beard froze on his face. He looked at the woman on his lap, and then out across the crowd until he spied a tall, dark-haired man with a boy in his arms, and nodded, as if to himself.

"Santa will do his best, little lady," he said gently. "But that's a mighty tall order...even for me."

Molly smiled. "I have faith," she said.

"I'll say a prayer," he said solemnly.

Molly nodded, satisfied, and then made her exit. She was certain that she'd done all she could toward the situation at hand. For the moment, her life was in the hands of fate-and a fat man's prayers. It would be two days before Molly's life would change-in a way she would never have expected.

Molly downed the last of her coffee and glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall. She'd overslept and was going to be late for work. But her bed had been so warm, and it was so very cold outside that getting up and getting dressed had been the last thing on her mind.

Partly out of perversity, and partly from haste, she'd chosen an outfit she'd had for years. The blue turtleneck sweater was old but warm, and her navy wool slacks were the same. And if she got something on them at work, it wouldn't be the end of the world. It would simply give her a good excuse to buy a new outfit.

She dumped the coffee dregs in the garbage disposal, sloshed a little water in the cup, and then made a run for the front door. She had one arm in her coat and was struggling to catch the flight of the other when the phone rang.

"Darn," she muttered, and considered letting the answering machine pick it up. But manners won out, even though the caller didn't know she was here.

"h.e.l.lo."

"Molly...thank G.o.d you're still home," Joseph mumbled.

Molly's heart skipped a beat. He sounded so strange.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You don't sound so good."

Joseph sat back down on the side of the bed to keep the room from spinning. "I hate to ask you," he said. "But I need a favor. Could you come and get Joey, take him to day care for me, and then pick him up this evening? I don't feel so good. Maybe if I spend the day in bed, by evening I'll be ready to deal with him."

"I'll be right there," she said.

Moments later she burst through the door, dumping her coat on a chair in the living room, calling his name as she ran through the house.