legs, which, granted, were the point of wearing the tall red heels that day, but still… she hadn’t meant to resurrect an old heartache. She had only meant to lure Uncle Blix’s elves into having fun in the costume.
Hadn’t she learned her lesson about shallow men from Dancer’s uninterested father? Men who looked like Dash only wanted the pleasure of the chase and the bedding reward that followed a woman getting caught.
Love and romance were no more than a game to those kinds of men, and she drew them like a magnet. Money and wealth let a man feel like he could waltz away from his mistakes without a backwards glance. Dancer’s father had barely acknowledged the child he’d conceived. His lack of involvement suited Vixen fine because it had removed her mistake permanently from her life.
The single parent situation wasn’t optimal, but she did her best with it. Dancer deserved more than the occasional hit-and-run male passing through her life. Believing that was why she had been very careful about dating. No man had made it far enough to merit introducing to her daughter more than briefly. Whatever kind of woman her infrequent sleepovers at their bachelor homes made her, she knew she was sparing her child some long term disappointment by keeping unsuitable men away.
Vixen felt no regrets for taking emotional precautions. Dancer mattered more to her than anything—more even than alleviating her own loneliness. She had work she loved and a business she was proud of. She had a family who loved her and accepted her child without reservations. Those blessings kept her going. Those blessings had also helped her stop frantically searching for the perfect male companion, which was good because he refused to be found anyway… or so it seemed to her.
“Mommy… you have to knock on the door.”
Vixen looked down. Even Dancer knew she was stalling. “Sorry, Baby. They have a doorbell. Do you want to push it?”
She pointed to the button beside the door handle. Nodding vigorously, Dancer used two tiny fingers to get it to ring and then squealed when it went off inside the house.
Vixen felt a ball of lead forming in her gut at hearing the sound because it couldn’t be taken back. When Cupid answered the door, she practically melted with relief not to have to confront Dash just yet. She also realized a tiny part of her hadn’t believed Dash when he said others would be present.
“What a great elf you are, Vixen. It’s so nice of you to make a personal visit,” Cupid teased, smiling at the nervous woman on the doorstep. She dropped her gaze and beamed at the child. “Nice to see you again, Dancer.”
Instead of answering, Dancer chose that moment to get shy. She reached her arms up to Vixen who lifted her automatically.
“Where did my brave girl go? You were the one who rang the doorbell. You remember, Cupid. She’s Uncle Blix’s special friend.”
“Special friend?” Cupid repeated, waving them inside as she laughed. “Come into the living room. The boys are working on a train set that goes around the tree.”
“Dancer, you’re heavy. Walk beside me like a big girl. You can hold my hand,” Vixen said, sliding her daughter down her body.
“I want to walk with Cupid,” Dancer declared.
Vixen shrugged when Cupid’s surprised gaze met hers. Dancer took Cupid’s hand when it was offered. Vixen followed behind, listening to her daughter now chatting to Cupid like she’d known her forever.
Looking around on her walk, she saw Dash’s home was just as nice and well cared for on the inside.
In the living room, two dark heads were bent over the train track they carefully assembled. It looked like serious business and sounded like it too, as they debated how big a circle needed to be made.
Dash’s head lifted on their entry, but before he could get a word out, Nicky had jumped up and ran to her.
“Hi Vixen. Did Santa get my letter?” he demanded
Like every parent wanting to spare the illusions of
Learning to Kill: Stories