by Marci Bolden
“It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
He looked at her, and the depth of sadness in his gray eyes made her heart hurt. “The only good thing about Christmas is the food.”
She held his gaze for a moment before letting her questions go and smiling. “The food is amazing.”
“Will you be spending Christmas with family?”
“No. My family is in Oregon. I met Mitch in college. We moved here after he graduated. He grew up here.”
“Did you graduate?”
“Nope. I did get pregnant, though. I planned to finish after we got settled, but it just never happened. Mitch had a good job, and I wanted to be home with Jason, and then Sam came along. I always thought I’d go back once they were both in school, but then there was PTA and classroom volunteering and sports. I never found the time to finish my degree. I’m certainly kicking myself for that now.”
“Don’t. You were with your kids when they were growing up. That’s important. You have a bond with them that I’ll never have with my kids.” His lack of relationship with his sons was clearly weighing on his mind.
“It’s not too late. If you want a relationship with your boys, you can make it happen.”
He stared at the tree, but she didn’t think he was actually seeing it. “They’re in college. They don’t need me now.”
“Yes, they do.” Her voice was soft but firm. “Trust me, they do. It’s never too late to be a father. Will they be there tomorrow?”
“No. They’re both back at school until Christmas break.”
“Well, when they get home, do something fun, something different than you normally would do. It’ll give you something to talk about.”
“Maybe.” He shook his head after a moment, as if to rid it from his thoughts. “So what did you study in college? Music?”
“Music and English.”
“English?”
She scrunched up her nose. “I’m kind of a nerd.”
He laughed. “Well, working in a bookstore must be heaven for you.”
“It’s more stocking shelves than analyzing poetry, but I like it.” She finished her wine. “I’m going to get more. Would you like some?”
“Sure.”
She nodded toward the remote and took his empty glass from the coffee table. “Why don’t you find us a movie to watch? I’m over talking about depressing shit.”
Chapter Seven
Kara gasped loudly. “What are you doing on that site?”
Dianna turned from the sink where she was washing the last of the dinner dishes. Kara was staring at her laptop screen. She’d forgotten to close the window she’d been browsing earlier. “I have to start selling stuff if I’m going to pay the bills.”
Kara’s eyes went wide. “Did you put your address online?”
“No. But I’ll have to give it to whoever wants to come look at what I posted.”
“Don’t. You. Dare. Are you insane?”
“It’s not like I put out a sex ad, Kare. I’m selling some furniture.”
“Do you know how many crazy people are just waiting for some beautiful single woman to sell some furniture? You’ll be raped and murdered within a week.”
“Oh, my God.” Di laughed. “You watch too much Nightline.” She sat in her chair and pulled her laptop to her. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Didn’t Harry just lecture you about personal safety after you hired a drug addict to do some work at your house?”
“He wasn’t a drug addict. He just…had a problem. And I’m not talking about me. There are perverts out there who answer these ads just to case out a house and see if they have a potential victim. Stonehill isn’t a bubble. There are lunatics here, just like everywhere else. I cannot believe you put an ad on Craigslist.”
Dianna’s frown deepened when Paul stepped into the kitchen, his eyes just as wide as Kara’s.
“You did what?” he demanded.
“She put her address on Craigslist.”
Dianna rolled her eyes. “No, I didn’t. I set up an account so I could sell some things. She’s acting like I asked someone to come kill me.”
“You might as well have,” Kara said.
“Just…stop,” Dianna said. “Paul, this is Kara, my overlord.”
Paul took Kara’s hand when she extended it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Kara rolled her eyes to Dianna. “None of it good, I’m sure.”
Paul grinned as he sat at the table. “Not all of it was bad.”
Kara snorted. “I bet.”
“If you’d quit hovering like I’m a child, I’d have nicer things to say about you.”
“And if you didn’t do things that endanger your life, I wouldn’t hover.”
“She’s right,” Paul said. “If you’re going to sell something online, do it through your social media. At least you know the people.”
“And have everyone know just how bad things are? No, thanks.”
“Hey,” Kara said firmly, “there’s no point in trying to save face if some weirdo cuts your head off.”
“Jesus,” Dianna said. “You really do watch too much TV. Is he going to decapitate me or rape me?”
“He’ll probably decapitate you and then rape you, smart-ass.”
“Not all murderers are men, you know,” Paul offered. “That’s a pretty broad stereotype, and as the only male in the room, I’m slightly offended.”
Dianna chuckled and looked at Paul. “When did you get here?”
“Just now. Sam let me in on his way out. Listen, if you don’t want to list your stuff on your profile, I’ll put it on mine, but don’t use some online sales site. It isn’t safe.”
Dianna frowned. “Fine. I’ll take my ad down.”
“Thank you,” Kara said with a nod. “Do it now, please.”
She grumbled under her breath but went in and took down what she’d posted earlier in the evening.
“What are you selling?” Paul asked. “I’ll see if anyone I know is interested.”
“A leather sectional sofa, a piano, and a full-size bedroom set.”
“You’re selling your piano?” Kara asked softly.
“Yes.” Though she didn’t elaborate, she was sure the expression on her face spoke for her. She didn’t want to sell it—she didn’t want to sell any of it. But she was out of options. Silence hung in the air, heavy and thick, while Dianna messaged Paul and Kara the photos and information on the items she was selling. “Do me a favor and tell anyone who asks that I’m remodeling instead of destitute, okay?”
She pushed herself up and walked to the sink to fill a glass of water but didn’t miss the glance that Kara and Paul shared. She’d have asked them both to leave if it weren’t so rude to do so. She’d spent the day determining what big items to sell and then researching what other people were selling similar furniture for so she wasn’t asking too much or too little. She’d been depressed and gloomy, and as she always did, Kara acted like it was her responsibility to cheer her up with food and drink.
Overeating had worked briefly. For a while Dianna actually forgot that her life was in shambles. But it came back around the moment Kara had realized Dianna’s secret plan for getting by. Her guests were quiet, which seemed to make it all that much worse.
“Di,” Kara started in her let-me-solve-everything voice.
She slammed the glass down and turned to face them. “Were you just dropping by, Paul, or did you need something?”
“Hmm? Oh. I, uh, I hit up Goodwill today and got a few things for the party.”
Kara’s eyes lit. “What party?”
“Oh, Dianna agreed to suffer through my family Christmas gathering. We do a white elephant exchange. It’s pretty lame, but I can’t get out of it and didn’t want to go alone.”
“It’s not like that,” Dianna said as soon as Kara’s eyebrows lifted.
“I didn’t say anything.” Kara put up her hands to show her innocence. “Did you hear me say anything?”
“I didn’t hear a peep,” Paul said.
“You were thinking it. I know how your mind works. Paul helped me out. I’m helping him out. End of story.”
“Okay.” Kara pushed herself up. “End of story. Well, I have to go. I don’t want to interrupt you helping each other out.”
Dianna’s mouth opened, but then she closed it. Anything she said would only encourage Kara, and Paul’s quiet chuckling certainly didn’t help matters.
“Don’t egg her on,” Dianna chastised.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said.
She made a face at him, but then Kara was standing between them.
“Listen,” she said quietly, “don’t sell your piano. You’ll regret it so much.”
“I need the money.”
“I will help you if you need it,” she whispered, “but don’t sell the piano. Don’t let him take anything else away from you.”
Dianna knew Kara and her husband would help, but she just couldn’t accept charity from friends when she had other choices. So far, she’d been making it with those other choices.
Kara turned to Paul. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too.” He pushed himself up from the table and watched her leave. He looked at Dianna, and she was certain he, too, was going to offer to swoop in and save her. He just had that air about him. He had probably been a knight in shining armor in a previous life.
“I’m sorry about her,” Dianna said before he could delve into her troubles. “She’s become a bit overbearing since Mitch left.”
“She’s still not as bad as Annie.”
Dianna laughed, but it was uneasy.
“I know it’s not my place, but—”
She closed her eyes. “If you’re about to offer me money, please don’t.” Looking at him again, she could see the concern on his face. “Everybody keeps offering me money like I’m a charity. I don’t want people tossing cash at me to appease their guilt. Mitch hasn’t been gone that long. I’m still trying to figure this out, but I will, okay? It’s hard—it’s really hard—but I can’t be dependent on handouts to get by.”
“Okay,” he said quietly. “But I want you to know—”
“Paul.”
He crossed the room and lowered his face so she had nowhere to look but his eyes. “I know how devastating it has been to lose your husband’s income and to try to maintain your home and your lifestyle for your kids. You’re doing your best, I know that. But sometimes a little help doesn’t hurt. I’m not going to hand you money, but if you need it, I can give you a loan or we can work something else out.”
Her heart simultaneously lifted and sank a little more with every word he’d said. He didn’t even know her, and he had more concern for her and her kids than Mitch had shown since leaving. It was as heartwarming as it was mortifying. It was a crazy mix of both, and she didn’t know if she should hug him or cry.
Finally, she managed to grin. “Well, I haven’t reached the point of prostitution just yet, if that’s what you mean by working something out, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
He held her gaze, but after a moment, he chuckled. “Let’s hope neither of us get so bad off that prostitution is our only option.”
“Let’s hope.”
His smile was still soft as he held her gaze. “Piano, huh? You play?”
“Not for a while. The piano was a gift from my parents a long time ago, but it just sits there taking up space now.” She exhaled and looked down at herself before he pushed and she had to tell him playing music just depressed her now. She drew a breath. “So, where are these gag gifts you bought for the party?”
“Before I forget,” Paul said the following Sunday. He dug into his pocket and pulled out several folded bills. “For the piano.”
Her heart sank as she looked at the wad of cash. “You sold it already?”
“My friend’s daughter just started lessons.”
She bit her lip as she took the money from him. “Thanks.”
“He’s hoping to surprise her for her birthday. Would you mind if it stays here for a while?”
She shrugged. “No, that’s fine.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Are you ready?”
“Um. Yeah.” She tucked the cash into her purse, and then he helped her into her coat and followed her out to his car.
“Don’t be nervous,” Paul said. “Annie can come off as pushy, but underneath it she’s very sweet.”
Dianna glanced at him from where she sat in the passenger seat of his car. “I wasn’t nervous…until you started constantly telling me not to be nervous.”
He smiled. “Sorry. You look very nice, by the way.”
She looked down at her beige slacks and then at his jeans. Underneath their winter coats, she wore a coral-colored blouse and several long gold necklaces to dress her outfit up while he wore a T-shirt under a sweater jacket. “Am I overdressed?”
“No. You’re perfect.”
“I feel overdressed.”
“You look beautiful.”
“They’re not going to be mean, are they? They’ll be nice even if they don’t like me, right?”
He reached across the car and squeezed her hand. “They’re going to love you, sweetheart. Trust me.”
Dianna’s teeth stopped working over her lip at the term of endearment and intimate touch. “Sweetheart” had rolled off his tongue like he hadn’t even considered his words, and though he pulled his hand back quickly, she could still feel the heat of his touch. His smile was wide across his lips, and she had to wonder if he even realized what he’d said. He’d called her “sweetheart.” And even if he hadn’t meant it intimately, it had made Dianna’s heart skip a beat and a feeling wash over her that was something like…belonging. Like she belonged here. With Paul. Going to meet his family.
Belonging somewhere was something she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.
She exhaled when he pulled into a driveway several minutes later. Stonehill wasn’t exactly the slums. The mid- to upper-class Des Moines suburb was still one of the fastest growing areas, yet it somehow managed to keep its small-town feel. Most of the houses, while large, were modest, but the house she found herself looking up at was one of the nicer ones she’d seen. She had felt nervous before, but now she felt completely out of her element. Paul was a lawyer. Matt and Annie both owned businesses. They were all clearly successful in life. All Dianna had done was raise kids and fail at her marriage. What was she even going to talk about with these people?
She swallowed hard. “I feel like they’re all going to be judging me.”
Paul parked behind several other cars. “Oh, they will be, but only because I screwed up so badly when I married Michelle.”
“Okay. That did not help ease my nerves.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand again. “Just be yourself, Di. Even if they don’t like you, which they will, it doesn’t matter. We’re not dating.”
“Right.”
Paul climbed out of the car. He opened the back door and grabbed their gifts while she got out, her mind racing with anxiety.
“Do they know how we met?”
He closed the car door. “Not yet, but I’m sure they will before the day is over.”
“Oh, God.”
He laughed and took her elbow to guide her to the front door. He pushed it open without knocking. “Hello?”
Dianna took a deep breath when several people said his name from the other room. A woman several years older than Paul rushed into the foyer as he was helping Dianna out of her coat. She stood only to Dianna’s nose, making her at least six inches shorter than Paul. She was blond and had a soft curve to her face, but she looked as intimidating as he had warned. Dianna knew this was Annie.
She looked at Dianna as if her brother weren’t even there. Her gaze, the same steel gray as Paul’s, was piercing and suspicious. Dianna smiled and extended her hand. This wasn’t a date. She and Paul were barely even friends. Like Paul had just said, it did
n’t matter what his family thought of her.
So why did she so desperately feel the need to gain Annie’s approval?
“It’s nice to meet you, Annie. Paul has told me so much about you.”
Annie finally acknowledged her brother with a frown. “I’ll just bet he has. The pleasure is all mine. Trust me. Come on. Donna and I are hiding in the kitchen with the food and wine while the men discuss football and other testosterone-infused subjects.”
Dianna looked back at Paul when Annie started pulling her away. He shrugged, as if he were innocent, but Dianna suspected he’d known exactly what was going to happen before they’d even arrived.
Annie led her into the kitchen, where she was instantly met with the scents of Christmas dinner. Ham and rolls and spices from the pies assaulted her, making her feel at home. She was almost able to relax until the woman standing at the stove turned. Her stare was almost as distrusting as Annie’s had been.
“This Paul’s girl?”
“Dianna, this is Matt’s wife, Donna.” Annie filled a third wineglass and looked at Donna. “Looks like a deer in the headlights, doesn’t she?”
Donna chuckled. “Better than looking like a tramp heading out for a night on the town. That wife of his,” she said to Dianna, “showed up for her first family dinner in a minidress and stilettos.”
“I considered wearing a minidress,” Dianna deadpanned, “but I haven’t shaved since September, and I didn’t feel like breaking out the weed whacker.”
Annie laughed as she handed Dianna a glass of wine. “You’re already better than the last one. Now sit down and let us grill you.”
Dianna grinned. Mostly because she was realizing that Paul hadn’t over-exaggerated Annie’s behavior at all. But unlike Paul, Dianna could appreciate where Annie was coming from. Paul had been through hell, and here he was bringing a new woman to Christmas.
“How’d you meet?”
“I’m going to let Paul tell you that one.”
Donna turned and cocked a brow. “Shit. You’re not one of his clients, are you?”
Dianna chuckled as she recalled the small, timid man who had sold her electronics at a much-discounted price. He was as far from the stereotypical criminal type as Dianna could have imagined, so she could guess the horror that Donna and Annie might have at the thought of her needing Paul’s defense.
