Delighted CEO

She shifts her weight and nods, looking nervous. "Could you help me?" she asks, holding the baby against her chest. He starts to mumble, and the woman tries to calm him down by shaking him slowly. "I just need shelter until tomorrow morning. Then I'll find a way to go to town and solve my problem." "Don't you have someone I can call?" I swallow hard and look away at the little girl clinging to the hem of her coat. She has big blue eyes that look at me in fear. I look back at her, her lips parted, a confused expression on her face.

I guess she didn't expect me to refuse shelter to a woman with two children under the snow. She gives a nervous laugh. "No." She sighs. "I mean, kind of." She looks away for a second. - I forgot my cell phone at home, on the table, as soon as I left. My ex-husband is on a plane right now, going to spend Christmas in Spain with his wife of twenty-two years, who he left me for. My parents are in a place with no signal, waiting for me for the holidays. I clench my jaw, not knowing what to do. I look at the Watsons' house next door and wonder why she didn't knock there. - Look, we're not going to bother you, okay? We just need some shelter for the night. It's cold and snowing out here, my car was two miles behind, and I have two children who are going into hypothermia and starving to death. Please don't be so cruel. I close my eyes and huff, opening the door wider. - Come in, I'll get you some things to get settled in. Squeezing the girl's hand, she carefully enters. The baby in her arms - I still don't know if it's a boy or another girl - starts to cry. The woman tries hard to calm him down as she follows me into the house. I lead them upstairs to my bedroom and open the door. She looks at me with doubt and surprise in her brown eyes. "Take a shower and change your clothes." My eyes go down to the bags hanging from her shoulder and I assume she has clean, dry clothes. "I'm going to light the fireplace in the living room and make some hot chocolate." The little girl still clinging to the hem of her coat catches her attention by pulling on it. She crouches down to the girl's height, who whispers something in her ear. The woman gives me a brief smile and waves. I'm curious, but I decide not to say anything. I go into the bedroom and explain where she can find soap and towels in the bathroom cabinets. "I really appreciate it..." She turns to me, standing in the middle of the room. Her lips part and only now do I realize that we haven't even introduced ourselves. "Altman. Hans Altman." She waves. - I can't thank you enough, Altman. - The woman looks around again, as if I'm offering more than she expected. - Thanks again. I nod briefly. - The left faucet is for hot water - I instruct her before leaving her alone with the children. I close the bedroom door to give her more privacy and go to the garage to get some dry wood to light the fireplace. While the wood crackles, I make three mugs of hot chocolate, trying not to think too much about having a stranger with two children in my room. Then I also realize that she didn't give me a name. I stare at the landline phone on a pillar in the kitchen, debating whether or not to call the police. Surely a police officer could help her better than I could. I push the thoughts out of my head and look up at the Watsons' house. The little lights continue to blink on the gables of the roof, on the porch fence, on the tree in the backyard and, from what I can see through the thin curtain on the glass window, on the dining room too. A little cry behind me makes me turn around immediately. I find them a few meters away from me, both with wet hair, changed clothes, the girl still clinging to her mother as if she would escape at any moment. Only then do I realize that I don't know what to give the baby, who is now wrapped in another blanket. I grab two mugs of hot chocolate and hand them to them. The little girl grabs the cup with both hands and looks at me over the rim, I think she's a little intimidated by me, and the older one leaves hers on the counter. The little girl looks around, as if looking for a place to sit. A little hesitantly, I approach her and place her on one of the stools-too high for her to reach. Her blue eyes stick to me for a second too long. "I don't know what to make for your baby," I say sincerely, turning to the stranger. "I have a bottle here," she answers and shows me the aforementioned object that was hidden between her chest and the child. "I just need to warm it up." I understand her implicit request and nod. I take the bottle and put it in the microwave. She tells me to wait a minute and I set the desired time. I keep my back to them, trying to deal with this strange moment that has hung over us. "My name is Becky." I turn to her. "Becky Hayes." She strokes the blond hair of the girl next to her. "This is Lora." The girl looks at me intently, her big blue eyes on me, her small lips on the rim of her mug of hot chocolate. "This is Archie." Becky unwraps the little one from his blanket and turns him to face me. The boy looks about ten months old, maybe younger, with thin, yellow hair, big blue eyes, long eyelashes and full lips. "Okay." That's all I say as I swallow hard. "Um... I'll get the living room ready for you guys to sleep. My guest room only has a single bed and I think it will be uncomfortable for you to share." "We'll make ourselves comfortable." I shake my head no. - I have a sofa bed. They'll be better off on it. The microwave behind me beeps, letting me know that time is up. I hand the bottle to Becky, who finally settles down on one of the stools next to Lora. She tests the temperature of the milk before cradling Archie in her arms and handing him his object of desire. The boy is desperate for his food and only calms down when he holds the bottle and sucks on the nipple with all his strength. While the little one drinks the milk, his mother finally pulls out her mug of hot chocolate. I offer a quick smile before leaving the kitchen and going to prepare the place for them to sleep. I arrange pillows, sheets, and blankets and spread them all out on the sofa bed in front of the fireplace. I'm finishing setting up when Becky appears. Archie is asleep in her arms, Lora is clinging to her bar, as always, and now she's rubbing her eyes with sleep. "They're exhausted," she whispers and points to her children. "It was a long trip to get here and then we faced cold, snow, and miles of walking." "Rest," I say, giving her space to settle her children. Becky gives me a weak smile before settling little Archie first. The boy is slumped over, already fast asleep, and I can't take my eyes off her, as she cares for him with affection and dedication. Then, she helps Lora settle next to her little brother. I barely notice that I smile when I see her hugging the little boy's body and

ransacked and robbed. Still, I ignore all my work, the short deadline, and lie down to sleep, but I can't because I'm not worried about falling into a trap. I can't sleep because I'm curious about Becky. I get up early the next day, without having slept the recommended eight hours. It's not even dawn yet when I take refuge in my office and continue the work that was interrupted the night before. I'm a little tempted almost all the time to go to the living room and check on the three of them, but I restrain myself and let them rest.

It's fully dawn and my stomach starts to protest with hunger just as I hear a noise coming from the kitchen. I go there to understand what's going on and find Becky picking up some pans that fell from the cupboard under the sink. I look around and see Lora quiet on the sofa bed, still wrapped in the blanket and distracting her brother who is on her lap. "I woke you up with all that noise, didn't I?" I turn to Becky, who is now holding two frying pans, one in each hand. "I shouldn't be invading your space like this, but I wanted to make you some breakfast to thank you for welcoming us." I blink a few times, taking in what she's told me. "It wasn't necessary," I finally manage to answer. I take a few steps closer to her and look at the countertop. She's separated milk, eggs, sugar and flour. "Pancakes?" She nods. - Do you like it? - She wets her lower lip, as if she was afraid of my answer. - I like it. Becky gives me a tight smile, goes back to the ingredients and starts preparing the dough. For the next few moments, I simply don't know what to do. She's a stranger in my house, with two small children, cooking for me. I walk to the glass window in the living room and look outside. From what I remember from the news forecast, it should be very cold today and snow heavily before nightfall. I turn to the little ones on my couch, and there's the little girl, watching me with curious and attentive eyes. Archie has a pacifier in his mouth and is incredibly quiet, also looking at me as if I were a different species. - Did you sleep well? - I ask without taking my eyes off the little blonde girl. I even think my question was directed at her because I don't remember hearing her say a word since they arrived. However, it's the mother who answers: - We slept. Archie was a little surprised because it's his first night away from home. - Becky glances at me quickly over her shoulder as she lights a flame on the stove and places the frying pan on the grate. - I hope his crying didn't bother you. I shake my head. - I didn't even hear him crying - I say, which is true. My eyes land on Archie, who is still watching me. His blue eyes under his long eyelashes stare at me seriously, his little mouth sucking hard on his pacifier. Lora, hugging her brother in a gesture of protection and affection, is also still analyzing me carefully, perhaps even with some apprehension and fear. - Where were you going? - The question is my way of keeping some conversation going and not letting the awkward atmosphere hang over our heads. I turn to the window again and see my backyard covered in snow. There is a moment of silence until Becky says to me: - Fortwood. - Fortwood? - I frown. - Yes. I quickly turn to her and, for a moment, I study her making the pancakes. I try to imagine which direction she came from to be heading to Fortwood and why she had to pass through here, in Kearney Valley. "Where did you come from?" She turns to me as she takes a pancake off to place it on the plate on the table in the center of the kitchen. So she doesn't catch me in the act, I stand facing my window, looking out at my white garden for the third time. "Aberdeen." My eyebrows furrow. That's... far. "That's a long drive," I say, and shove my hands in the pockets of my pajama pants. "It's over a twelve-hour drive." Another awkward silence. "Yeah." "Why didn't they fly to the capital and continue by car?" "I know Fortwood is a small town with no airports." I turn to her again, who's putting the third pancake on the plate. Becky looks up at me and looks at me differently. "Lora's afraid of heights." I look at the little girl, who's frowning vigorously. It's as if she disagrees with what her mother has just said. I nod and return to my position. We don't say anything else to each other for the next ten minutes-the exact amount of time it takes Becky to finish the pancakes and set them on the table with the coffee cups. She settles Lora into the chair and sits down with Archie on her lap. I stand by the window, the sight of her with the kids stirring something inside me. I can't remember the last time I experienced something like this. I've seen images like this all the time-in the neighborhood, at work, in the coffee shops downtown-but to have experienced something like this... I can't even remember the last time I had a family gathering. And it hurts me deeply. It hurts because I wanted something like this. A wife, two kids, pancakes in the morning, family Christmases. I could have had all of that if I hadn't acted in the most wrong way possible with Katherine. "Aren't you coming?" Becky calls me back to the real world. "Your coffee's going to get cold." I approach carefully and sit in the chair across from Becky and next to Lora, who remains quiet. I begin to suspect that she doesn't know how to speak. I help myself to two pancakes while Becky settles Archie on her lap with a bottle in her hands. The boy enjoys his meal. As if the boy on her lap was nothing, his mother takes a slice of the pancake and eats it. "Mr. Altman..." "Hans," I correct her quickly. "You can call me Hans." She nods and smiles. "I know I promised to leave as soon as it gets light," Becky says carefully, not looking at me, her attention now fully on her youngest son. "But I still don't have a car and I don't know anything about the place. I need a few more hours to solve my problem." She looks up at me this time. "Do you mind? You're a stranger in my house with two small children who will probably disrupt my entire work day." "No, of course not." I hide the forced smile behind the rim of my coffee mug. "Where are you planning on finding a mechanic? The only one I know around here went on vacation with his family a few days ago." She sighs and, with her free hand, takes another bite of her pancake. "I'll try a gas station. There should be one downtown, right?" I nod. "Is it far from here?" "About three miles, maybe." She looks defeated by this information and studies me in a way that tells me she's expecting me to offer her a ride there, since it's too far for her to walk with two kids. I clench my jaw, not really liking the situation I'm getting myself into. I'm on a tight deadline to turn in my papers, but here I am, determined to help this woman. "Look, let's do it this way..." I say, slowly lowering my mug to the table. "I'll go over to your car and take a look. It might be

." I watch her eat the pancake as if it were the most delicious food in the world, her eyes now intent on the mother who helped Archie burp. I finish my coffee quickly and leave the table to try to solve Becky's problem quickly. - I'll get the truck ready and go to your car - I say. - Can you tell me roughly where you left it and what model it is? Becky gives me the necessary information, which I easily remember. I put on pants, snow boots, a thick coat, a hat, and gloves to face the weather outside.

I put snow chains on the truck's tires and drive the two miles to her car, facing the snow-covered road and the weather that threatens to get worse with every passing second. When I get there, I find the vehicle parked on the shoulder. I try to start it, but it just stalls and won't start. I check the fuel gauge and the tank is half full. Okay, it's not a lack of gas. Braving the biting cold, I risk taking a look at the engine. I know a lot of the basics and I can't find anything that could explain why the car just stopped working. I turn on the radio, which works, so it's not the battery problem. I pull the clutch out of the car, push it off the shoulder to avoid an accident, and leave it there as the cold begins to bite my skin, deciding it's time to make the drive back to my house. The snow begins to fall harder halfway through the drive. The news on the station I'm tuning in to reports that an unprecedented blizzard is coming and authorities are worried. Roads will be closed and it's recommended that people stay indoors for the next three days. Without knowing exactly why, I think about Becky and the kids. A mix of feelings pressurize my chest, leaving me confused. I didn't intend for her to stay at my house any longer than necessary. One night. Just. Nothing more than that. But I also can't imagine her traveling to Fortwood-still a good eight hours away-in the middle of a freezing storm. I push my thoughts out of my head and continue on my way, determined to sort this out as soon as I get there. It takes me a little longer than usual to get back because of the slippery road-I have to be extra careful and drive at a reduced speed-and because of the strong wind and the snow against the windshield. I park the truck at the curb and run inside the house, dusting off my coat as I go inside. I look up and find Becky in my living room with her children, the place all tidy and fragrant. I look around, noticing that she has even cleaned up a few messes that weren't hers. The woman is on the now-folded sofa bed, Archie on her lap, Lora right next to her, a children's book in her hands that she must have brought in her bag. I pick up the story she's half-reading to the little ones, something about a princess and a swan, and Becky stops her story when she sees me. "Hi," she greets me, and I lean against the door to stop the cold wind. "Did you get anything?" I take off my coat and hat and hang them on the coat rack in the entryway. - No. The car has gas, the battery works. I don't know what it could be. Maybe it's a problem with the ignition system. We'll have to call a mechanic, if we can find one. Her eyes fill with concern and... I think fear. Becky seems distressed and restless because of the setback that will delay her trip. - I didn't want to bother you, Hans - she says and stands up, adjusting Archie on her hip. Becky gives Lora a quick once-over, head down with her book. - But could you take me to the nearest gas station? Maybe I can find a mechanic who can help me. If not, I can try a taxi, a ride-hailing service, maybe even a bus. - Sorry, I can't - I answer immediately, almost without even realizing it. - There's a storm coming and it won't be safe out there, Becky. Even if you manage to fix the car, the blizzard promises to last three days and it will catch up with you before you reach Fortwood. -I seriously look at it for a moment, then to Archie and, finally, to Lora, who is now aware of what I am saying.-You will have to stay here. To understand what is going on in your head now. - We don't want to bother. "She looks at her daughter and squeezes Archie a little more against her body. , especially with two young children. Becky looks at Lora, and the little girl back on her mother as she pleaded to stay. It takes a whole second until the woman agrees with a brief head.This whole set-up-these three in my living room-makes my heart beat differently. I clear my throat and grab my coat again. "I'm going into town to buy some supplies for the next three days." I look outside, the snow falling hard but not enough to stop me. "I'll take advantage of the fact that I can still leave the house." "I should have some money to-" "No, please," I interrupt her. "That's not necessary." Becky nods slightly and gives me a smile that I find very cute. "Do you want me to bring you something from the market?" The woman shakes her head, but Lora speaks up. "Froot Loops and chocolates." "Lora!" Becky warns, alarmed. The request elicits a small smile from me. "Froot Loops and chocolates. Okay. Anything else, young lady?" I ask. Lora blinks a couple of times and looks around, as if considering. "Lora, no!" her mother says firmly. "We don't need anything else." The girl crosses her arms and frowns, angry. "But, Mommy..." Becky shakes her head from side to side. "No." She huffs and picks up the book again, her brow furrowed, clearly sulking that she can't make her wish. I walk over and sit down next to her. Lora raises her big blue eyes to me and stares at me seriously. "What do you want to ask for?" "Hans..." Becky whimpers. I raise a hand, not looking at her, and she immediately stops her protest. "Can we have lights?" I frown at the same time Becky whispers, "Oh my God." I don't quite understand her request and tilt my head to the side a little. "L... lights?" Lora nods. "Yeah, like the ones next door." She points to the Watson residence. "Lights and stockings to put on the mantelpiece." I part my lips, understanding what she means. I didn't decorate the house for Christmas. I never had any desire to do it, and it's not a tradition I follow. Katherine is the one who loved the date and made a point of decorating every corner she could find. She even had Christmas-themed dishes and bed, table and bath linens that she started using religiously the day after Thanksgiving. "Hans, Lora's request... Is that she..." I stand up and shake my head. "It's okay. It's a fair request, right?" I offer Lora a sincere smile. "Froot Loops, chocolate, lights and fireplace stockings." I tap my index finger on my temple. "I recorded everything here." The little girl smiles back, looking happy that her wish will be granted, and that arouses some curiosity in me. I turn to Becky and announce. "I won't be long." She walks me to the door and touches my arm before I leave. "Sorry about her request," she says carefully. "You don't have to..." "I promised, I'll bring it, Becky. I already told you it's okay." - I look at Archie for a moment, his blue eyes intent on me. Without understanding why, I reach out and take his hand, chubby and