With a sigh, he sank down on his chair and tackled the very first item on the intimidating heap of paperwork. More than an hour later, he came across a plain white envelope. Jason looked at it and frowned when he found it still sealed. It was customary for his assistant to open everything and date stamp the correspondence. It wasn’t like her to miss things.
He slipped a finger beneath the flap and yanked, ripping open the envelope. He pulled out a folded piece of red construction paper. When he saw the crude cutout of a Christmas tree, he was quite puzzled. He flipped it open and smiled at the scribbled, green crayon message, with Samantha’s name printed across the bottom. He blinked repeatedly as he stared at the prettiest card he’d ever received.
Was it possible Kara didn’t hate him? His hands began to shake as his hopes started to mount. Was this her attempt at a peace offering? Or had Samantha merely insisted she deliver the card? Either way, he was deeply touched by the gesture.
He set it on the desk and sucked in a deep, calming breath. He couldn’t go off half-cocked—that was what had led him to this mess.
He glanced down. An old weathered envelope caught his attention. It was the letter from the man who’d hurt him so deeply—the same man who had taught him to fish and how to play ball. Jason stared at the envelope, remembering his promise to Kara to read it.
Maybe there really was such a thing as a Christmas miracle. Or maybe he needed to make a Christmas miracle of his own. He needed to prove to Kara that he had changed into a man she could trust with her heart, through the good and the bad. Words wouldn’t be enough. He needed to do more. Perhaps this letter was the perfect place to start.
He ripped open the envelope, bracing himself for a string of hateful words. But when he read: “Son, I’m sorry...” his gaze blurred. He blinked repeatedly and kept reading the heartfelt note. His father hadn’t meant what he’d said in his drunken rage. Jason checked the date, finding it’d been written almost seven years ago, while he was still in basic training. He’d wasted all these years being stubborn, thinking his dad hated him. But he’d been wrong.
Jason’s throat grew thick with emotion. Kara had been right all along. This was the season for hope and forgiveness.
A plan started to take shape in his mind. He’d show her that he could embrace the spirit of the season. He knew what must be done—the most important mission of his life. Operation: Win Kara Back.
And he didn’t have a moment to lose. He’d already wasted seven years. He could be a reliable, steadfast man for Kara and a father to the little girl who’d already claimed a permanent spot in his heart. He wouldn’t repeat his or his father’s mistakes. He’d make sure both Kara and Samantha knew how much he loved them.
Jason shoved back from his desk. With long strides he headed for the office where Kara’s desk stood. When he found her chair vacant, he spun around, scanning the shelving units, file cabinets and other desks. No Kara.
What if she’d quit? His chest tightened.
“Mr. Greene, do you need something?” asked Sherry, a redhead wearing a festive reindeer sweater.
“First, it’s Jason, remember?”
She smiled, then nodded.
“Do you know where Kara is?” He’d track her down to the ends of the earth if that was what it took. He couldn’t lose this chance to set things right. Something told him it would be the last chance he got.
“Oh, well...”
“Spit it out,” he said, lacking any patience.
“I took a message for her when she stepped out to get some coffee. When I gave her the note, she grabbed her things, said she didn’t know when she’d be back and ran out the door.”
Had something happened to Samantha? Jason’s heart lodged in his throat. But surely Kara would have said something. Then he realized, with the way he’d left things between them, he’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. And he couldn’t blame her after the ass he’d made of himself.
“Do you remember the message?” he asked, praying for a little help here.
Sherry nodded. “It was the Pleasant Valley Care Home.”
Regret sucker-punched him. His breath hitched. Kara’s prediction had come true. Something had happened to his father and Jason had been too stubborn to go to him, to hear him out. Now it was too late to give his dad some peace of mind. Or was it? Was his guilty conscience jumping to conclusions?
“What did the message say?” he asked, poised to rush out the door.
“For her to come to the home—that Joe needed her.”
Jason still had a chance to make things right.
He bolted toward the parking lot, hoping he wouldn’t be too late to put his father’s mind at ease. Jason might not have liked the drunk he had become, but the man he used to be, when Jason’s mother was alive—he owed that man a bit of peace.
And Kara shouldn’t be shouldering this all by herself. She might not want him there, but he owed it to her to at least make the attempt.
Jason clung to the hope that he wouldn’t be too late as he tramped the accelerator on the way to the sprawling facility. He took the first available parking spot and ran to the door.
Out of breath, he said to a small group of women behind the counter, “I’m here to see my father.”