Home > Mine for Christmas: A Simon and Kara Novella(12)

Mine for Christmas: A Simon and Kara Novella(12)
Author: J.S. Scott

“I think it’s natural to be worried,” Simon told him. “But just think about getting well right now, Tim. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he told the boy roughly, protectively.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Simon answered in a graveled, tormented voice.

Kara blinked back her tears as she moved into the room, unable to bear watching Timmy’s fear and Simon’s anguish a moment longer. “Hey, little man,” she said loudly, cheerfully. “You look better.” Timmy untangled himself from Simon and threw himself into her arms.

“Kara,” Timmy exclaimed breathlessly. “Look what Simon did.” He gestured around the room as he clung to her. “And he’s teaching me to play Myth World on my very own computer.”

“Is he now?” Kara raised an eyebrow at her husband. “I see you got an awful lot of stuff in here, Timmy.”

“I don’t like that name.” Timmy scowled. “It’s a baby name. I’m a guy,” he added, puffing out his tiny chest, sounding like he was parroting something that a certain someone she knew had told him.

“She’s okay to use it,” Simon grumbled. “It’s just us men who have to use guy names.”

The little boy nodded. “Okay then. I guess you can still call me Timmy. But Simon calls me Tim.”

Kara hugged the child, smirking at Simon. “Thank you. I think I’d have a hard time changing names now.”

Simon shrugged. “It’s a guy thing,” he mumbled somewhat sheepishly.

She sat on the edge of the bed, watching man and child as they practiced more on the computer games, Timmy’s face lit up like she’d never seen before. He’d been so sick when she’d seen him in the clinic, so lethargic. He’d always been sweet, but so incredibly weak. The little boy needed a haircut; she’d try to remember to bring a comb and scissors tomorrow. Otherwise, he looked like a normal, happy child.

The nurse came in with a snack and Timmy’s insulin, and Kara and Simon finally left. She found herself feeling depressed as she walked to the parking lot with her husband, even though Timmy was doing well.

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked anxiously. “Don’t you think he’s doing okay? He looks so much better. And he has a lot of energy now.”

“Nothing’s wrong really. And he’s doing fine,” she reassured him, threading her fingers through his as they entered the parking lot. “I’m just worried about where he’ll go from here. He has special needs. A diabetic child needs special care, and I’m not certain how easy he’ll be to place in foster care. He needs a good family, somebody patient. He’s such a good boy, and he’s had it so hard,” she answered tearfully.

“A nurse would make a handy foster parent,” Simon said casually. “And somebody who didn’t care about money, somebody who maybe has…billions of dollars to make sure he has the best care?”

Kara’s head jerked to the side to meet her husband’s gaze. Was he thinking...?

“Us?” she asked excitedly. “But we’d have to get approval for foster care,” she warned him, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“I found out a few days ago that they were having a hard time placing him. He’ll probably have to go to a group home until they can find a permanent place for him.” Simon’s voice vibrated with frustration and concern. “Baby, I can get us approved. Sam knows the right people. But I think it would be too much for you—”

“It wouldn’t. I swear. I know exactly what to do, and a team of professionals will be on Timmy’s case. He can get an insulin pump eventually to make things a little easier.” She hesitated, running out of breath. Kara stopped and turned to him as they reached his vehicle. “Please, Simon. I don’t want him to be alone or with strangers for Christmas. He’s had such a hard life. He deserves to be happy for a while.” The thought of Timmy going to a strange group home made her heart clench. She couldn’t stand the image of that happening.

“Fuck. I can’t let it happen, either,” Simon rasped. “You should have seen his face whenever I brought him something. Every single time, he thought it was for someone else. I don’t think the kid thinks he deserves anything.”

“So, we can do it?” Kara asked tremulously, holding her breath.

“We’ll sign the papers, and they’ll come over to check out the penthouse. Then we can take him when he’s discharged,” Simon agreed. “Sam’s ready to push all the paperwork through. I had a feeling you’d want to take him when you found out what was happening. I just worried about putting anything else on your plate right now. Ginny keeps you busy.”

Kara threw herself into Simon’s arms with a sob. “Thank you. Thank you.” She peppered tiny kisses all over his face.

“I’ll help as much as I possibly can. Are you sure this won’t be too much?” His voice was concerned and gentle.

She pulled back to look at him as his arms tightened around her waist. “It won’t. I’ll take a leave of absence from the clinic and stay home. Now that Sam is funding the clinic with donations, we have plenty of staff. Timmy will need constant monitoring for a while.”

“I like the kid,” Simon admitted gruffly.

Kara considered that Timmy might remind Simon a bit of himself at that age. They’d been raised in similar circumstances. Unfortunately, there had been no rescue for Simon. “I know,” she answered with a smile, knowing the child was more likely to follow Simon around with hero-worship on his face than spending a lot of time with her. It was obvious that man and boy adored each other. “Will you have time to spend with him? You’re pretty busy.”

“I’ll make time,” Simon vowed.

Simon gave his agents instructions to bring Kara’s car home and helped her into his own vehicle.

They talked about Timmy and their upcoming Christmas all the way home.

“I feel like the most unattractive woman in the world. Please explain to me why Sam still pants after me like I’m some sexy goddess,” Maddie Hudson asked her sister-in-law wryly. “I’m constantly exhausted, and I’m carrying even more extra weight than before I had the twins. I haven’t used any makeup in over a year, and I barely have time to shower, so I’m pretty sure I smell like baby poop and formula most of the time.”

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