“Where’s Zach now?” K.O. asked, joining Wynn on the sofa.
As if to let her know how much he appreciated having her back, Wynn reached for her hand. At Zelda’s obvious interest, he released it, but the contact, brief as it was, reassured her.
Zelda lowered her head. “Zach’s at home with the girls. If you must know, I sort of left my husband with the twins.”
“Zoe and Zara,” K.O. said under her breath for Wynn’s benefit.
“Despite my strong feelings on the matter, I suspect my husband is planning to take our daughters out to purchase a Christmas tree.” She paused. “A giant one.”
“Do you think he might even decorate it with Santa figurines and reindeer?” K.O. asked, pretending to be scandalized.
“Oh, I hope not,” Zelda cried. “That would ruin everything I’ve tried so hard to institute in our family.”
“As I recall,” Wynn finally said. He waited a moment as if to gauge whether now was a good time to insert his opinions. When no one interrupted him, he continued. “I didn’t say anything in my book against Christmas trees, giant or otherwise.”
“Yes, I know that, but it seems to me—”
“It seems to me that you’ve carried this a bit further than advisable,” Wynn said gently. “Despite what you and K.O. think, I don’t want to take Christmas away from your children or from you and your husband. It’s a holiday to be celebrated. Family and traditions are important.”
K.O. agreed with him. She felt gratified that there was common ground between them, an opinion on which they could concur. Nearly everything she’d heard about Wynn to this point had come from her sister. K.O. was beginning to wonder if Zelda was taking his advice to extremes.
“Besides,” he said, “there’s a fundamental contradiction in your approach. You’re correct to minimize the element of fantasy—but your children are telling you what they want, aren’t they? And you’re ignoring that.”
K.O. wanted to cheer. She took Wynn’s hand again, and this time he didn’t let go.
“By the way,” Zelda said, looking from Wynn to K.O. and staring pointedly at their folded hands. “Just when did you two start dating?”
“I told you—”
“What you said,” her sister broke in, “was that Dr. Jeffries lived in the same building as you.”
“I told you we went to dinner a couple of times.”
“You most certainly did not.” Zelda stood up, an irritated expression on her face. “Well, okay, you did mention the one dinner at Chez Jerome.”
“Did you know that I’m planning to join Katherine this Friday when she’s watching the twins?” Wynn asked.
“She’s bringing you along?” Zelda’s eyes grew round with shock. “You might’ve said something to me,” she burst out, clearly upset with K.O.
“I thought I had told you.”
“You haven’t talked to me in days,” Zelda wailed. “It’s like I’m not even your sister anymore. The last I heard, you were going to get Dr. Jeffries’s autograph for me, and you didn’t, although I specifically asked if you would.”
“Would you prefer I not watch the twins?” Wynn inquired.
“Oh, no! It would be an honor,” Zelda assured him, smiling, her voice warm and friendly. She turned to face K.O. again, her eyes narrowed. “But my own sister,” she hissed, “should’ve told me she intended on having a famous person spend the night in my home.”
“You’re not to tell anyone,” K.O. insisted.
Zelda glared at her. “Fine. I won’t.”
“Promise me,” K.O. said. Wynn was entitled to his privacy; the last thing he needed was a fleet of parents in SUVs besieging him about his book.
“I promise.” Without a further word, Zelda grabbed her purse and made a hasty exit.
“Zelda!” K.O. called after her. “I think we need to talk about this for a minute.”
“I don’t have a minute. I need to get home to my husband and children. We’ll talk later,” Zelda said in an ominous tone, and then she was gone.
Chapter
13
“I’d better leave now, as well,” Wynn announced, getting his coat. “Dad’ll need me to drive him back from the emergency room.” K.O. was glad he didn’t seem eager to go.
For her part, she wanted him to stay. Her nerves were frayed. Nothing had worked out as she’d planned and now everyone was upset with her. LaVonne, her dear friend, was inconsolable. Zelda was annoyed that K.O. hadn’t kept her updated on the relationship with Wynn. Max Jeffries was just plain angry, and while the brunt of his anger had been directed at LaVonne, K.O. realized he wasn’t pleased with her, either. Now Wynn had to go. Reluctantly K.O. walked him to the door. “Let me know how your father’s doing, okay?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Of course.” Wynn placed his hands on her shoulders. “You know I’d much rather be here with you.”
She saw the regret in his eyes and didn’t want to make matters worse. “Thank you for being so wonderful,” she said and meant it. Wynn had been the voice of calm and reason throughout this entire ordeal.
“I’ll call you about my father as soon as I hear.”
“Thank you.”
After a brief hug, he hurried out the door.
After a dinner of eggnog and peanut butter on crackers, K.O. waited up until after midnight, but no word came. Finally, when she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, she climbed between the sheets and fell instantly asleep. This surprised her; she hadn’t anticipated sleeping easily or well. When she woke the following morning, the first thoughts that rushed into her mind were of Wynn. Something must have happened, something unexpected and probably dreadful, or he would’ve called.
Perhaps the hospital had decided to keep Max overnight for observation. While there’d been a lot of blood involved, K.O. didn’t think any of the cuts were deep enough to require stitches. But if Max had filed a police report, that would cause problems for LaVonne and might explain Wynn’s silence. Every scenario that roared through her head pointed to trouble.
Even before she made her first cup of coffee, K.O.’s stomach was in knots. As she headed into the kitchen, she discovered a sealed envelope that had been slipped under her door.
It read:
Katherine,
I didn’t get back from the hospital until late and I was afraid you’d already gone to bed. Dad’s home and, other than being cantankerous, he’s doing fine, so don’t worry on his account. The hospital cleaned and bandaged his arm and said he’d be good as new in a week or so. Please reassure LaVonne. The cuts looked worse than they actually were.
Could you stop by my office this afternoon? I’m at the corner of Fourth and Willow, Suite 1110. Does one o’clock work for you? If you can’t fit it into your schedule, please contact my assistant and let her know. Otherwise, I’ll look forward to seeing you, then.
Wynn
Oh, she could fit it in. She could definitely fit it in. K.O. was ready to climb Mount Rainier for a chance to see Wynn. With purpose now, she showered and dressed and then, on the off chance Max might need something, she phoned Wynn’s condo.
His father answered right away, which made her wonder if he’d been sitting next to the phone waiting for a call.
“Good morning,” she said, striving to sound cheerful and upbeat—all the while hoping Max wasn’t one to hold grudges.
“Who is this?”
“It’s K.O.,” she told him, her voice faltering despite her effort to maintain a cheery tone.
He hesitated as if he needed time to place who she might be. “Oh,” he finally said. “The woman from downstairs. The woman whose friend caused me irreparable distress.” After another pause, he said, “I’m afraid I might be suffering from trauma-induced amnesia.”
“Excuse me?” K.O. was sure she’d misunderstood.
“I was attacked yesterday by a possibly rabid beast and am fortunate to be alive. I don’t remember much after that vicious animal sank its claws into my arm,” h
e added shakily.
K.O. closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said, going along with it. “But the hospital released you, I see.”
“Yes.” This was said with disdain; apparently, he felt the medical profession had made a serious error in judgment. “I’m on heavy pain medication.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I don’t know where my son’s gone,” he muttered fretfully.
If Wynn hadn’t told his father he was at the office, then K.O. wasn’t about to, either. She suspected Wynn had good reason to escape.
“Since you live in the building…” Max began.
“Uh…” She could see it coming. Max wanted her to sit and hold his uninjured hand for the rest of the day.
“I do, but unfortunately I’m on my way out.”
“Oh.”
It took K.O. a few more minutes to wade through the guilt he was shoveling in her direction. “I’ll drop by and check on you later,” she promised.
“Thank you,” he said, ending their conversation with a groan, a last shovelful of guilt.
K.O. hung up the phone, groaning, too. This was even worse than she’d imagined and she had a fine imagination. Max was obviously playing this incident for all it was worth. Irreparable distress. Rabid beast. Trauma-induced amnesia! Oh, brother.
Wanting to leave before Max decided to drop by, she hurried out the door and stopped at the French Café for a mocha and bran muffin. If ever she’d deserved one, it was now. At the rate her life was going, there wouldn’t be enough peppermint mochas in the world to see her through another day like yesterday.
Rather than linger as she normally did, K.O. took her drink and muffin to go and enjoyed a leisurely stroll down Blossom Street. A walk would give her exercise and clear her mind, and just then clarity was what she needed. She admired the evergreen boughs and garlands decorating the storefronts, and the inventive variations on Christmas themes in every window. The weather remained unseasonably cold with a chance of snow flurries. In December Seattle was usually in the grip of gloomy winter rains, but that hadn’t happened yet this year. The sky was already a clear blue with puffy clouds scattered about.
By the time she’d finished her peppermint mocha, K.O. had walked a good mile and felt refreshed in both body and mind. When she entered her building, LaVonne—wearing a housecoat—was stepping out of her condo to grab the morning paper. Her eyes were red and puffy and it looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. She bent over to retrieve her paper.
“LaVonne,” K.O. called out.
Her friend slowly straightened. “I thought I should see if there’s a report in the police blotter about Tom scratching that…that man,” she spat out.
“I doubt it.”
“Is he…back from the hospital?”
“Max Jeffries is alive and well. He sustained a few scratches, but it isn’t nearly as bad as we all feared.” Wynn’s father seemed to be under the delusion that he’d narrowly escaped with his life, but she didn’t feel the need to mention that. Nor did K.O. care to enlighten LaVonne regarding Max’s supposed amnesia.
“I’m so glad.” LaVonne sounded tired and sad.
“Is there anything I can get you?” K.O. asked, feeling partially to blame.
“Thanks for asking, but I’m fine.” She gave a shuddering sob. “Except for poor Tom being in jail…”
“Call if you need me,” K.O. said before she returned to her own apartment.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. She worked for a solid two hours and accomplished more in that brief time than she normally did in four. She finished a medical report, sent off some résumés by e-mail and drafted a Christmas letter for a woman in Zach’s office who’d made a last-minute request. Then, deciding she should check on Max Jeffries, she went up for a quick visit. At twelve-thirty, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door again. With her hands buried deep in her red wool coat and a candy-cane striped scarf doubled around her neck, she walked to Wynn’s office.
This was her first visit there, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. When she stepped inside, she found a comfortable waiting room and thought it looked like any doctor’s office.
A middle-aged receptionist glanced up and smiled warmly. “You must be Katherine,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Lois Church, Dr. Jeffries’s assistant.”
“Hello,” K.O. said, returning her smile.
“Come on back. Doctor is waiting for you.” Lois led her to a large room, lined with bookshelves and framed degrees. A big desk dominated one end, and there was a sitting area on the other side, complete with a miniature table and chairs and a number of toys.
Wynn stood in front of the bookcase, and when K.O. entered the room, he closed the volume he’d been reading and put it back in place.
Lois slipped quietly out of the room and shut the door.
“Hi,” K.O. said tentatively, wondering at his mood.
He smiled. “I see you received my note.”
“Yes,” she said with a nod. She remained standing just inside his office.
“I asked you to come here to talk about my father. I’m afraid he’s going a little overboard with all of this.”
“I got that impression myself.”
Wynn arched his brows. “You’ve spoken to him?”
She nodded again. “I stopped by to see how he’s doing. He didn’t seem to remember me right away. He says he’s suffering from memory loss.”
Wynn groaned.
“I hate to say this, but I assumed that hypochondria’s what he’s really suffering from.” She paused. “Either that or he’s faking it,” she said boldly.
Wynn gave a dismissive shrug. “I believe your second diagnosis is correct. It’s a recurring condition of his,” he said with a wry smile.
K.O. didn’t know quite what to say.
“He’s exaggerating, looking for attention.” Wynn motioned for her to sit down, which she did, sinking into the luxurious leather sofa. Wynn took the chair next to it. “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, but for all his easygoing hippie ways, Moon Puppy—Max—can be quite the manipulator.”
“Well, it’s not like LaVonne did it on purpose or anything.”
There was a moment’s silence. “In light of what happened yesterday, do you still want me to accompany you to your sister’s?” he asked.
K.O. would be terribly disappointed if he’d experienced a change of heart. “I hoped you would, but if you need to bow out because of your father, I understand.”
“No,” he said decisively. “I want to do this. It’s important for us both, for our relationship.”
K.O. felt the same way.
“I’ve already told my father that I have a business appointment this weekend, so he knows I’ll be away.”
That made K.O. smile. This was business. Sort of.
“I’d prefer that Max not know the two of us will be together. He’ll want to join us and, frankly, dealing with him will be more work than taking care of the kids.”
“All right.” Despite a bit of residual guilt, K.O. was certainly willing to abide by his wishes. She was convinced that once Wynn spent time with Zoe and Zara, he’d know for himself that his theories didn’t work. The twins and their outrageous behavior would speak more eloquently than she ever could.
“I’m afraid we might not have an opportunity to get together for the rest of the week.”
She was unhappy about it but understood. With his injuries and need for attention, Max would dominate Wynn’s time.
“Are you sure your father will be well enough by Friday for you to leave?” she asked.
“He’d better be,” Wynn said firmly, “because I’m going. He’ll survive. In case you hadn’t already figured this out, he’s a little…immature.”
“Really?” she asked, feigning surprise. Then she laughed out loud.
Wynn smiled, too. “I’m going to miss you, Katherine,” he said with a sigh. “I wish I could see you every day this week, but
between work and Max…”
“I’ll miss you, too.”
Wynn checked his watch and K.O. realized that was her signal to go. Wynn had appointments.
They both stood.
“Before I forget,” he said casually. “A friend of mine told me his company’s looking for a publicist. It’s a small publisher, Apple Blossom Books, right in the downtown area, not far from here.”
“They are?” K.O.’s heart raced with excitement. A small publishing company would be ideal. “Really?”
“I mentioned your name, and Larry asked if you’d be willing to send in a résumé.” Wynn picked up a business card from his desk and handed it to her. “You can e-mail it directly to him.”
“Oh, Wynn, thank you.” In her excitement, she hugged him.
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed to keep her in his arms and kiss her. She responded with equal fervor, and it made her wonder how she could possibly go another three days until she saw him again.
They smiled at each other. Wynn threaded his fingers through her hair and brought his mouth to hers for another, deeper kiss.
A polite knock at the door was followed by the sound of it opening.
Abruptly Wynn released her, taking a step back. “Yes, Lois,” he said, still looking at K.O.
“Your one-thirty appointment has arrived.”
“I’ll be ready in just a minute,” he said. As soon as the door was shut, he leaned close, touching his forehead to hers. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Me, too.” But it was with real reluctance that they drew apart.
As K.O. left, glancing at the surly teen being ushered into his office, she felt that Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter
14
On Thursday afternoon, LaVonne invited K.O. for afternoon tea, complete with a plate of sliced fruitcake. “I’m feeling much better,” her neighbor said as she poured tea into mugs decorated with cats in Santa costumes. “I’ve been allowed to visit Tom, and he’s doing so well. In a couple of days, he’ll be back home where he belongs.” She frowned as if remembering Wynn’s father. “No thanks to that dreadful man who had Tom taken away from me.”
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