A Christmas Miracle
Author
Amy Andrews
Reads
15.1K
Chapters
18
Chapter One
TRINITY WALKER WAS having a bad day. In a life that had been punctuated by bad days, it was a drop in the ocean. Sadly, they were beginning to have an accumulative effect.
She was twenty-four years old but she suddenly felt ancient.
Sheâd just needed three more days. Come Monday her government payment would be in the bank and Oscar would be walking through the school gates for the first time.
She could finally get some order to their lives.
Regular child-free hours to dedicate to a job that would bring in regular money for things like rent instead of relying on government support and a variety of other dodgy alternatives.
Couch surfing, shonky hostels, single room rentals in share houses and the occasional nightâlike last nightâsleeping rough in her ancient Mazda, was no life.
Not for her or her five-year-old.
Every now and then sheâd get lucky and land a job with some form of accommodation attached. A room, sometimes a small flat or bedsit. It never usually lasted though. More often than not it was Oscarâs health issues that ended the job and therefore their housing. Yesterday it had been Terrible Todd.
Her big, ugly, bearded, tattooed boss who drove a motorbike and reeked of cheap cologne and engine grease. Todd had announced that he did, after all, want her to pay for the accommodation.
Just not with money.
Heâd felt they could come to an arrangement. Sheâd walked.
Bastard.
Bloody hell, why even bother with a permanently stressed-out, exhausted single mother who wasnât even that much to look at? She was five feet four, her long dark brown hair was so fine it hung limply down her back and she was somewhat on the thin side.
And not the sleek, glowing, deliberate thin of a catwalk model. The stringy, wrung-out thin of a woman whoâd been stressed and struggling to make ends meet for the last five years. Sheâd used to be passably pretty back in her size twelve days, but even a fairy godmother would baulk at Trinityâs current state.
Hell, it had been so long since sheâd even thought of herself as a sexual being it always surprised her when someone else did.
Someone like Terrible Todd.
And here they were. With nowhere to go and no money to pay for anything much until Monday. Homeless again.
Homeless.
The word cast a sinister shadow as a cold hand crept around her heart. Fear over the welfare of her child, always present, threatened to overwhelm her.
Seriously, when was she going to ever catch a freaking break?
Maybe she could impose on Raylene again for the use of her couch tonight. Just one night. They could go after dinner and be gone by breakfast so Raylene, who was also doing it tough, wouldnât have to feed them.
âLook, Mummy! Look at all the ducklings. Theyâre hungry.â
Trinity broke free from the sticky tendrils of anxiety. She was sitting on a park bench about two metres from Oscar, keeping an eye on him near the pondâs edge, but had mentally tuned out.
âYes, darling.â She smiled.
Her own belly growled in hunger as she also smiled at the old man standing next to her son at the pondâs edge. Heâd brought the bread with him about ten minutes ago and Oscar had followed him from the slippery dip like the freaking Pied Piper.
The elderly gentleman had said hello to her and had looked down and smiled at an eager Oscar as heâd asked the man politely if he could watch him feed the ducks.
âWatch me?â The old manâs fuzzy eyebrows had drawn together before heâd given a hearty belly laugh. âGoodness, young man, you can help me.â
Oscar had beamed and for a moment, Trinity had almost burst into tears. It was utterly ridiculous. She didnât cry. She was not a crier. Tears didnât put a roof over her kidâs head or food in his belly. But she was feeling so damn low after her brush with Terrible Todd, such a simple act of human kindness had restored her faith in people.
She thought the elderly gentleman might be about eighty. There was a slight stoop to his shoulders and his clothes hung a little as if he might have lost some weight recently but Trinity could tell he once used to be a large man.
A giant next to Oscar that was for sure.
Her heart filled with love for her little guy. He was everything to her. Her stars and moon. Her reason to keep striving, to wake up every morning and eke out a survival when everything seemed so hopeless. A dear little boy who had changed her life.
Who had saved her from a life going nowhere.
It made her sick thinking about the number of times sheâd nearly lost him. Born at twenty-six weeks, with tiny lungs and a major heart condition, heâd had an uphill battle. Six months in the NICU including two major heart operations. Another three months in the childrenâs hospital until he was finally discharged home on sub-nasal oxygen. Then the next few years being knocked flat by every cold and flu bug going, in and out of ICU.
Trinity had been scared out of her wits for nearly five years.
Although he hadnât been sick for over six months. She hoped that it was a sign and not just flu season being over. That he was finally growing out of his chronic lung condition as the specialists had predicted, that his lungs were finally growing big enough to cope.
She really hoped so. Heâd frightened her out of nine lives already.
A group of three teenage boys who should, no doubt, have been in school, were climbing all over the play equipment behind her. They were far too big for it, laughing too loud, talking too loud.
The bread all gone, Oscar ran back and started chattering at her, his voice high and excited. The old man walked by, nodding his head at her and saying, âSee you later, alligator,â to Oscar who laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world.
âIn a while, crocodile,â he called out after the manâs disappearing back, hopping from foot to foot.
Trinity smiled, pulling his skinny little body hard against hers. His wispy white-blond hair tickled her face as a lump rose in her throat. Just three more days.
She could do this.
A shout interrupted the hug and they both turned to investigate. The teenagers had bailed up the old man. They were shoving him none too gently from all directions and the old man was not taking it quietly.
âWhat are they doing, Mummy?â Oscar said, anxiety trembling through his voice. Sheâd heard that anxiety too often during his hospitalisations.
The man stumbled and almost fell and a surge of red-hot fury flashed through Trinityâs veins. How dare they? This was a suburban park in a reasonably well-to-do neighbourhoodâit was safe. That was why Trinity had chosen to pull the car up here last night. They were nothing but thugs.
âStop it,â he said, his voice strong and angry. âYou have no right to do this!â
âWe can do whatever we want, old man.â
Trinityâs heart hammered as rage took hold. Yes, these guys and the Todds of the world always thought they could do whatever they wanted.
She looked aroundâthere was no one else in the park. She was it. Her pulse skyrocketing, she set Oscar down on the bench beside her. âDarling, I want you to stay here and donât move, do you hear me? Stay very still.â
His little fingers clutched her forearm. âLike when they give me the drips, Mummy?â
Trinity hated that so much of her sonâs young life had involved needles and doctors and hospitals and pain.
It fuelled her anger.
âYes.â She kissed his forehead. âExactly like that. Mummy will be back in a minute.â
She rose then, covering the distance quickly. âOi!â she yelled. âStop that right now.â
The three teens were clearly startled enough to obey as she stormed up to them. There was thunder in her veins and lightning in her eyes. She was furious but there was a clarity to her anger as skills from a distant time in her life surfaced again.
These guys had chosen the wrong person to mess with today.
The guys laughed when they realised from whom the demand had come. âOh, yeah?â the beefiest one sneered at her. âWhat are you going to do if we donât?â
âIâm going to put you on your ass.â
The old man looked bewildered, his white hair mad-scientist-wild. âItâs okay, my dear,â he said, a gentleman to the core despite his confusion.
There was more hysterical laughter before it cut out and sneering guy locked gazes with her before giving another, very deliberate shove, right in the middle of his victimâs chest.
âI say!â he objected, his voice quivering with outrage, causing more laughter from the moron gallery.
And an eruption inside Trinityâs head.
The rage sheâd been trying to keep in check exploded in a blinding flash. She grabbed the hand of the beefy guy just as he was about to push again and in one swift, practised, if a little rusty move he was on his back, his arm twisted painfully in her grasp, her foot jammed hard against his throat.
His friendsâ eyes widened as he gurgled on the ground, clutching at Trinityâs foot with his spare hand. A second or two passed before either moved, then one of them puffed his chest out and lunged. Trinity was ready for him, landing a solid blow to his solar plexus with one efficient chop, dropping him to the ground.
She cocked an eyebrow at the third guy. âYou want some?â she demanded, her voice icy. âGet out of here, now,â she snapped, giving an extra little twist to the guyâs arm before removing her foot from his throat. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. âIâm calling the cops.â
The three guys didnât wait around; they scarpered.
It was only then Trinity realised how fast her heart was beating. Automatically she turned back to Oscar, who was watching her with an owl-like expression, his big eyes huge and unblinking.
She rushed to him, her hands shaking as she scooped him up. âMummy, you were like a superhero,â he whispered, his voice reverent.
Trinity laughed. A kid who spent three quarters of his life in hospital had seen a lot of cartoons and the superhero ones were his favourite.
âCâmon,â she said, âletâs go and check on your friend.â
She turned around to find heâd walked away and was almost at the road near where sheâd parked her car. He walked hesitantly though, looking around.
She put Oscar down and they half walked, half jogged to catch up. âExcuse me,â Trinity called. He didnât answer. âExcuse me, mister?â
The old man turned around, his face blank until he saw Oscar. âAre you okay?â
âWhat?â he asked, ruffling Oscarâs hair. âOh, yes, thank you, dear. I just...â He looked around him as if he didnât know where he was. âIâm not sure why Iâm here. Do you know where I am?â
A spike of concern knitted Trinityâs brows together. Had the incident with the teenage boys traumatised him? They hadnât physically hurt him but she couldnât blame him for being shook up.
âItâs Monno Park,â she said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. âYou came to feed the ducks.â
The man stared at the pond for long moments. âOh. Did I?â
âDo you live around here?â
The man glanced at the park around him and the houses on the street opposite. âI...think so,â he said, his big hairy eyebrows beetling together.
Trinity was really worried now. Maybe this wasnât a reaction to his confrontation with the thugs; maybe he wasnât of sound mind to begin with? Maybe he had dementia? Had he wandered or...escaped from somewhere?
âIs there someone I can ring for you?â
âOh, yes.â His face brightened. âMy grandson, Reid Hamilton.â
âOkay.â She nodded encouragingly. âDo you know his number?â
His expression blanked out again. âHe works at Allura. The veteransâ hospital.â He stood taller. âHeâs a doctor.â
âRight, then.â She smiled. Not even dementia, it seemed, diminished a grandparentâs pride. She felt a momentary spike of envy at that. âIâll look it up.â
Trinity wasnât at all confident as she rang the hospital and asked for Reid Hamilton. If the man had some kind of dementia, who knew if the information was correct? She might need to ring the police, after all.
The phone picked up and a male voice enquired who was calling, then informed her Dr Hamilton was with a patient. Trinity was relieved that she was on the right track. âItâs about his grandfather,â she said. âIâve found him wandering in a park. Iâm sure heâll want to know.â
âOne moment.â
Trinity smiled at the man, who was watching her intently, rubbing his creased forehead as if it would help clarify things for him.
âHello? Whoâs this?â
Trinity blinked at the brisk voice. There was an authority to it she doubted few messed with. But she was over boorish men. âIs this Reid?â
âYes.â The impatience in his voice could have cut diamonds.
âMy nameâs Trinity. I think Iâve found your grandfather wandering around in Monno Park. He seems a little...â she dropped her voice, not wanting to hurt the manâs feelings â...confused.â
âGoddamn it,â the man cursed, low and growly. âIâll be there in fifteen.â And the phone cut out in her ear.
* * *
The low rumble of a motorbike engine always put an itch up Trinityâs spine and today was no different as, fifteen minutes later exactly, a big black bike pulled up at the kerb not far from where she, Oscar and Edwardâheâd asked her to call him Eddieâwere standing.
âAh, here he is,â Eddie announced with palpable relief and obvious pleasure.
Trinity watched as the guy on the bike, dressed in top-to-toe black leather, dismounted with a long-legged ease that spoke of many hours in the seat. His helmet was a sleek black domeâgleaming and aerodynamic.
A little hand tugged at her pants and Trinity glanced down at her son, who was even more bug-eyed than he had been witnessing her drop two beefy teenagers to the ground.
âMummy,â he whispered. âItâs the black Power Ranger.â
Trinity almost laughedâhe did look very Power Ranger-esque in his boots, leathers, gloves and helmet. But then he took the gloves and helmet off, unzipped his jacket and completely destroyed that theory.
Reid Hamilton was more lumberjack than superhero. He certainly looked like no doctor sheâd ever met and sheâd met many. He had endless blue eyes, a wild mane of dirty-blond hair, pushed back off his forehead, and a full, thick beard that was neatly trimmed rather than long and scruffy. He was big and rangy like his grandfather and she could just make out tattoos on the backs of his hands.
âHey, Pops,â he said, smiling at his grandfather as he strode towards them. When he drew level he enveloped Eddie in a big bear hug, holding him close for long moments before clapping him on the back a couple of times in a very manly demonstration of his affection.
He pulled back and flicked a glance at Trinity. âMaâam,â he said.
Trinity, who despised everything to do with beards, tats and bikes and hadnât had an orgasm in five years, almost came on the spot.
