We spent Thanksgiving with his family. I felt guilty about my mother, who airily said she had accepted an invitation to spend the weekend with a colleague, in New York. In my heart I admitted to jealousy of my mother’s visit to New York while Stanley’s mother and I made subdued small talk as we loaded the dishwasher after Thanksgiving dinner. Close by, the televised football game did not have much influence over the napping men.
Back in Apple Grove for the weekend, Stanley attended the Sunday service at New Horizons Church with me.
I poked him midway through. With an unbecoming snort, he sat up straight. “Sorry.”
We shook hands with the Pastor on the way out.
“Very nice,” Stanley said. “Enjoyed the sermon a great deal.”
I frowned, for he couldn’t have heard more than five words of it before he started breathing too regularly. We were invited to the Greens for dinner at their house after church.
Stanley talked to young Bobby Green about the football game coming on later in the afternoon. They shared stats, and Bob stuck his two cents in every once in a while, from the dining room where he set the table.
Marion had a pot roast in the slow cooker, and I brought bread, so it did not take much time to get the food ready. Bob said grace.
Stanley seemed to take note of everything that went on as if there was a test on the subject of Normal Family Behavior in America next week.
“Pass the Brussels sprouts.” Marion elbowed me.
I handed her the dish, while trying to gauge her expressive eyebrows, so I missed the first part of Bob’s announcement.
“…Grand Opening. You might want to come, Stanley. The stuff you handed out that time when Jenny Toynsbee went missing was a big hit. You could pick up a lot of contacts.” Bob waved his fork.
“I’ll think about that,” Stanley replied.
“What’s opening?” I asked.
“Jeff Hanley finally got the repairs completed at Mea Cuppa,” Marion said, giving me a critical snort. “You weren’t listening. They’re opening tomorrow, Monday, with a party, and giveaways. The Chamber of Commerce has a big gift certificate drawing, and there’s a contest. The kids and I are coming after school.”
“Oh? Hanley’s not quitting his job at the bank, is he?” I ate a bite of Marion’s roast. “This is delicious.”
Marion set the bowl of potatoes down with a thump.
I could tell my attitude bothered her. Hanley interested me not at all, although I wondered why Adam Thompson would let him keep the name of his popular franchise. I changed the subject. “Oh, hey, Stanley. Did I tell you that Marion and I are playing volleyball? After Christmas we’re on the blue team at the rec center.”
He grinned at us and passed the potatoes around again. We didn’t stay long, as Stanley wanted to get back for a colleague’s birthday party. He hadn’t asked me to attend and I hadn’t protested. I was glad for his new acquaintances and his new life, but we agreed that I should not feel obligated to share it. He told me he wanted to move up the company ladder and things were happening. It was time to make a decision about what was happening between us and we planned to talk about it later that night.
I didn’t plan on talking long.
Marion had something on her mind I could tell by the way she lingered with us at the door. “I have to talk to you, Ivy,” she said when I asked what was up.
Stanley, talking to Bob, did not notice us.
“I’ll call you later.”
~*~
“All I’m asking is, are you sure?” Marion chewed the subject like a terrier that wouldn’t let go.
“I invested five years of my life in him. That’s gotta count for something,” I told her over the phone. I turned my toasted cheese sandwich over on the griddle. “Maybe I just want what you have.”
“I’m flattered,” Marion said dryly. “But honestly, Ivy.”
“I thought you liked him. You gave him a thumbs up.”
“For his chocolate. What girl wouldn’t like a man who brings chocolate?”
“All right.” I sighed and turned off the heat. “What should I do?”
“Just go to the opening tomorrow.”
“Opening?”
“Remember? Downtown. Mea Cuppa.”
“Why? I don’t give a hoot about Jeff Hanley.”
“Just go.”
After she hung up, Stanley and I had that conversation. He’d applied for promotion and found out on Monday he’d gotten it. We talked it over. Stanley was learning to be content, and so was I. He planned to set up house on the east coast. I doubted we would cross paths again, certainly not on purpose. He deserved to start over as much as I. But the main point was I found peace where I was. Really. I had finally gotten over needing a man in my life. Certainly not one like Stanley Brewer, who made up his mind too late. Or Adam Thompson, who never made up his mind at all.
~*~
And there he stood, cutting the ribbon for the real grand opening of Mea Cuppa, Apple Grove.
I should have known. The past six months passed before my eyes. Marion! I wanted to cry. She could have warned me.
Adam Thompson smiled and waved at people in the crowd. Jeff Hanley joined him, as did Cal Stewart, the third partner. But today was Adam’s show. He joked, shook hands, patted the heads of little ones too young for school.
I reached the head of the line for a free cup of coffee.
His face paled when he saw me.
My hand shook so hard the coffee sloshed over.
Adam handed me a napkin. He opened his mouth, closed it again.
“I thought you sold this place,” I said in a rush. “I mean, I came here, but I didn’t realize you would be here.”
“Or you wouldn’t have come?” He frowned with the words. His gray eyes were as chilly as the late November day.
I shivered. There were still lots of folks behind me and I stepped away.
Marion might have meant well, but I wanted to run and hide. I went home to pet his cat and my own, then left a blistering message on Marion’s voicemail at city hall.
At ten after nine that night I hustled around the kitchen getting myself some hot cocoa during the commercial break of my favorite television show.
Someone outside clomped up to my kitchen door and rapped with gusto.
That figured. I wore my way big flannel pajama pants with the balloons and my hair was in a messy ponytail that showed all the grays at my temples. I let Adam in without comment.
He didn’t take off his coat but leaned against the kitchen door.
Isis padded out and warbled her hello as if she had only seen him earlier in the day instead of months ago.
Adam picked her up, noticing the change in her shape immediately. He raised his eyebrows.
Memnet slunk along the wall behind the kitchen table as if he was afraid Adam would demand a shotgun wedding for knocking up Isis. He blinked his gooseberry eyes.
“I was so rude to you today, Ivy. The first thing I do when I see you is act like an idiot. I can’t explain myself. I’m sorry, and I wanted you to know.” He looked at Isis, ruefully.
“Um. Would you like some hot chocolate?”
Background voices emanated from the living room.
“I don’t want to disrupt your evening.”
“You’re not interrupting anything.” Just a host of daydreams, and a load of regret. “So, you didn’t sell?”
He shook his head. “I told you I thought about it. Hanley and Stewart gave me a good offer.”
“But you didn’t? Why not?”
“After I was…back there for a while, I realized how much I missed…Isis.”
Only her?
Adam felt Isis’s burgeoning tummy before giving me a serious look. “You have something you want to tell me?”
My grin was self-conscious. I waved at the table and turned on the overhead light. “I told you they were getting to be good friends. Why don’t you sit? Take your coat off.” I pulled the band from my hair and fluffe
d.
He shrugged out of the coat and hung it over the back, just as he had done in the past.
I stared, dizzy with recall and longing. I pulled out a chair and managed to fall on the seat.
“Ivy. What’s going on?” His voice sounded so gentle.
You left. I thought you were never coming back. You found a new girlfriend. “You heard about Jenny and Memnet getting lost?” I said instead.
“Yes,” he nodded and lowered himself opposite. “Hanley told me. I talked to the Greens. I got your message. Later. There was some mix-up with my phone company for a while. That’s not my only excuse.” He hunched his shoulders, and he stared at the table top. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I really liked Donald. I owe him a lot.” He set his gaze on me, the molten gray I remembered and loved. “The chocolate salesman. Someone from your past?”
“Stanley? Yes, what about him?”
“That’s your ex-fiancé? Or your current one?” He rushed on without waiting for my answer. “The first time he came to the store, he stopped to read your ad when he left. I thought it strange. He stood there for so long I had to ask if he was all right. He wondered if I knew you, and was that a local address. I should have realized.”
“Adam.”
“Just, tell me, are you…do you want to go back to him?”
I was miserable. I pulled my knee up and wrapped my arms around it. “He changed. He was here when I needed him.”
He ducked his chin. I did not exactly mean for the words to come out like that, but I spoke the truth. No, Stanley wasn’t staying in my life, as we’d agreed at Thanksgiving. But I couldn’t just let Adam back in like he never left, and I wasn’t just acting out of revenge. A girl needs some respect, you know?
He pursed his lips at me for a couple of seconds, then got up and reached for his coat.
“Adam, please.”
“Isis seems content here. If you want her—”
“Adam!”
“When is she due?”
“Around Christmas. Adam—”
“Will you let me see the kittens?”
“Adam Truegood Thompson, will you listen to me?”
He shook his head and retreated from me as if I was radioactive. Then he left. I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes. That was all the time he’d been here. Dazed, I sipped from my cup. The hot cocoa was lukewarm. Just like my life.
27
Ask me the real reason why I don’t like Christmas. Go on, ask me.
I had just turned six years old. For the first time in my life I anticipated the lights, colors, sounds, smells and presents, oodles of presents, under the Christmas tree. And Santa Claus, who was really Saint Nicholas. Mom said he had been a real person who lived long ago, and loved Jesus so much he helped poor children. That’s why we give each other presents now, because we love Jesus. I got up early, wondering about my presents.
What I found half-way under the tree had nothing to do with Saint Nicholas. My father felt cold to my touch and didn’t answer when I called in his ear. Mom did not decorate for the holidays for years afterward. When I reached my teens, she asked if I’d like a tree. I always said no. We went to church and had dinner with friends. Sometimes.
Yet I put up a tree this year, the first Christmas of my adult life that I lived in my own house. I made popcorn strands and a few of those cinnamon ornaments with the help of Martha and the kids next door.
Mem batted at the tinsel. I moved it to the upper branches.
Isis, heavy with her pregnancy, slept a lot.
I determined to show my mother that I had adjusted to my new life. She came to visit for Christmas week to see for herself. I weathered her war of subtle insults against Stanley all month. Yet I refused to tell her that Stanley and I had come to an understanding and he was no longer in the picture.
On Christmas morning, I woke about 8:00.
Mom and I stayed up late last night watching old movies and church would not happen until ten.
I smelled coffee. She was up. I pushed my arms through the sleeves of my robe and padded out to the living room.
The lower half of a human protruded from the base of the little tree.
My knees hit the carpet, but my shriek died when I recognized Adam’s moccasins.
Mom sat on the sofa, still in her maroon robe and drinking something steaming. She looked at me passively over the mug’s rim. “Darling, what’s the matter? And Merry Christmas.”
She could not have appreciated my traumatic moment.
“Merry Christmas. And to you, too, Adam.” I leaned forward, fists on my knees, to demand of his backside, “What are you doing here?”
“Ivy! Adam’s our guest.”
“I don’t remember inviting him.” I exhaled. My blood pressure was slowly beginning to recalibrate to normal.
“I’ve got some news for you, dear. Come. Sit by me for a minute.” Mom patted the cushion to her right.
I stayed my ground, crossing my arms, still on my knees.
I ignored Adam, who had removed his upper half from under the tree, almost tipping it when I screamed. He emerged, blinking dust from his eyes, brushing dry needles from his hair and keeping too quiet. I paid no attention to the fact that he wore my favorite shirt of his, the cobalt-blue one that also happened to feel really soft under my fingers.
I took a deep breath. “Mom!”
“Stanley Brewer hasn’t got a chivalrous bone in his body.”
“Mo-ther.”
“I happened to be up last night when I heard your machine pick up a message from him.”
My gaze cut quickly to the kitchen where my personal answering system blinked. “You listened in to my private business?”
Adam rolled to his feet.
Mom calmly drank from her mug. “I assure you I did not listen on purpose. He said Merry Christmas and best wishes. And that he met someone who made him happy.” She rose. “But I did call Adam on purpose this morning, and for that I’m not sorry. Excuse me.”
“It’s pretty early in the morning for visiting,” I said in his direction. I noticed his boots at the back door, his overcoat draped on the back of a kitchen chair. Right at home. I heard him breathing. Still, he said nothing.
Remembering to fill my own lungs, I got up and sat on the sofa, cuddling in my mother’s leftover warmth. Afraid he might misunderstand my welling tears, I refused to look at him. I stared at the tree instead. Someone had plugged in the lights, which appeared like miniature swimming prisms until I blinked. “Stanley told me after Thanksgiving that he’d been promoted and would relocate to Trenton. I never even considering going with him.”
Adam strode to a side chair and sank into it. He cleared his throat. “When were you going to tell me?”
I stared at my twined fingers and sucked at my lower lip, scared of ruining this moment by saying something ridiculous. Like blurting out “I love you! Why did you leave?”
Adam got up to pace.
A moment later, the cushion sank as he settled next to me, his warm fingers brushing my cheek. “Ivy. I love you.”
All the gooey feelings settled in a puddle at the pit of my stomach. Drat tears. “I love you, too.”
“Then why are you acting so sad?”
“I’m not sad,” I protested, weakly. I still could not face him.
“Does it have something to do with that…other guy? I won’t stand in your way if you changed your mind and would rather go after him.”
“Oh, stop it!” I faced him. “I told you, he’s already gone. I couldn’t even, I never let him…” My eyes strayed to his lips, which were twitching with amusement. I fell on him, batting weakly at his shoulder until his arms enfolded me. I closed my eyes as our lips met and clung. This place, holding and being held by Adam, was more home than anywhere in the world. The last six months might never have been.
We broke apart.
“You said you’d only be gone for two weeks,” I accused him.
He didn’t let me out of his embrace but regarded me
frankly. “You knew about my mother, and the store mess.”
“I really am sorry about your mother. I wish you would have called me more to talk. And,” I swallowed, “I saw you.”
His grip loosened a bit. “What? When? And thanks, my mom’s move to assisted living was really more of a blessing. I didn’t want to make you sad.”
“Oh.” I took a deep breath. “I went down to check out the Summersby building. It’s not far from one of your stores, only about six blocks from the lake. Why didn’t you say you knew where it was?”
His eyes glazed over and he frowned. “Summersby? Like the message? I don’t—oh, wait! You must mean my shop that needed a manager. On Fountain Street. But there’s no office building close by with that name.”
I wiggled, but he didn’t let go. “It’s big and squarish, like twelve stories or something. Pale limestone, no windows on the first floor. To the south of your store.”
“There’s the Bluecity that sounds like that. Ivy. You mean you went there alone? To do what?”
“Never mind. I suppose they could have changed the name since you were gone. The lettering of the sign looked new. Addy and Yolanda and I went back later. But we can’t use the evidence we collected there. Anyway, the first time, I saw you.”
If he could follow my garbled speech, I knew he was the perfect mate for me. He shook his head a little, but gamely asked the only question that mattered now. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You were entertaining.”
Adam gripped my shoulders. “Ivy! What in the world are you talking about?”
“There was this gorgeous, young, woman with legs up to here,” I indicated a spot on my ribcage, “who made you laugh.”
He plopped back against the sofa, taking me with him. He tucked my head under his chin. “I interviewed several people for the manager’s position. That woman you saw might have been one of them, I don’t recall. You should have knocked on the door, or something.”
Chastised, I leaned close. “I didn’t even know it was your shop until I was all the way inside. Why did you stop calling?”
His hands stroked my back. His heartbeat raced under my hand. “Maybe I’m not so different from Stanley, after all.”
Meow Mayhem Page 26
