“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
K.O. didn’t take long to consider her friend’s invitation. “I’d love to, then. What would you like me to bring?”
“Dessert,” LaVonne said promptly. “Something yummy and special for Christmas.”
“All right.” They agreed on a time and K.O. left, feeling better than she had in days. Just as she was about to step outside, she turned back.
“How’s Max?” she asked, knowing her neighbor was on good terms with Wynn’s father. Exactly how good those terms were remained to be seen. She wondered fleetingly what the Jeffrieses were doing for Christmas, then decided it was none of her business. Still, the afternoon K.O. had found Max in LaVonne’s condo, she’d been shocked to say the least. Their brief conversation the following day hadn’t been too enlightening but maybe over Christmas dinner LaVonne would tell her what had happened—and what was happening now.
Flustered, LaVonne lowered her eyes as she sorted through a stack of mail that seemed to be mostly Christmas cards. “He’s completely recovered. And,” she whispered, “he’s apologized to Tom.”
A sense of pleasure shot through K.O. at this…and at the way LaVonne blushed. Apparently this was one romance that held promise. Her own had fizzled out fast enough. She’d come to truly like Wynn. More than like…At the thought of him, an aching sensation pressed down on her. In retrospect, she wished she’d handled the situation differently. Because she couldn’t resist, she had to ask, “Have you seen Wynn?”
Her friend nodded but the look in LaVonne’s eyes told K.O. everything she dreaded.
“He’s still angry, isn’t he?”
LaVonne gave her a sad smile. “I’m sure everything will work out. I know what I saw in that Raisin Bran.” She attempted a laugh.
“When you see him again, tell him…” She paused. “Tell him,” she started again, then gave up. Wynn had made his feelings clear. He’d told her it would be best if they didn’t see each other again, and he’d meant it. Nine days with no word told her he wasn’t changing his mind. Well, she had her pride, too.
“What would you like me to tell him?” LaVonne asked.
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
“You could write him a letter,” LaVonne suggested.
“Perhaps I will,” K.O. said on her way out the door, but she knew she wouldn’t. It was over.
Blossom Street seemed more alive than at any other time she could remember. A group of carolers performed at the corner, songbooks in their hands. An elderly gentleman rang a bell for charity outside the French Café, which was crowded with customers. Seeing how busy the place was, K.O. decided to purchase her Christmas dessert now, before they completely sold out.
After adding a donation to the pot as she entered the café, she stood in a long line. When her turn finally came to order, she saw that one of the bakers was helping at the counter. K.O. knew Alix Townsend or, at least, she’d talked to her often enough to know her by name.
“Merry Christmas, K.O.,” Alix said.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” K.O. surveyed the sweet delicacies behind the glass counter. “I need something that says Christmas,” she murmured. The decorated cookies were festive but didn’t seem quite right. A pumpkin pie would work, but it wasn’t really special.
“How about a small Bûche de Noël,” Alix said. “It’s a traditional French dessert—a fancy cake decorated with mocha cream frosting and shaped to look like a Yule log. I baked it myself from a special recipe of the owner’s.”
“Bûche de Noël,” K.O. repeated. It sounded perfect.
“They’re going fast,” Alix pointed out.
“Sold,” K.O. said as the young woman went to collect one from the refrigerated case. It was then that K.O. noticed Alix’s engagement ring.
“Will there be anything else?” Alix asked, setting the pink box on the counter and tying it with string.
“That diamond’s new, isn’t it?”
Grinning, Alix examined her ring finger. “I got it last week. Jordan couldn’t wait to give it to me.”
“Congratulations,” K.O. told her. “When’s the wedding?”
Alix looked down at the diamond as if she could hardly take her eyes off it. “June.”
“That’s fabulous.”
“I’m already talking to Susannah Nelson—she owns the flower shop across the street. Jacqueline, my friend, insists we hold the reception at the Country Club. If it was up to me, Jordan and I would just elope, but his family would never stand for that.” She shrugged in a resigned way. “I love Jordan, and I don’t care what I have to do, as long as I get to be his wife.”
The words echoed in K.O.’s heart as she walked out of the French Café with a final “Merry Christmas.” She didn’t know Alix Townsend all that well, but she liked her. Alix was entirely without pretense. No one need doubt how she felt about any particular subject; she spoke her mind in a straightforward manner that left nothing to speculation.
K.O. passed Susannah’s Garden, the flower shop, on her way to the bank. The owner and her husband stood out front, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. As K.O. walked past, Susannah handed her a sprig of holly with bright red berries.
“Thank you—this is so nice,” K.O. said, tucking the holly in her coat pocket. She loved the flower shop and the beauty it brought to the street.
“I want to let the neighborhood know how much I appreciate the support. I’ve only been in business since September and everyone’s been so helpful.”
“Here, have a cup of hot cider.” Susannah’s husband was handing out plastic cups from a small table set up beside him. “I’m Joe,” he said.
“Hello, Joe. I’m Katherine O’Connor.”
Susannah slid one arm around her husband’s waist and gazed up at him with such adoration it was painful for K.O. to watch. Everywhere she turned, people were happy and in love. A knot formed in her throat. Putting on a happy, carefree face was getting harder by the minute.
Just then the door to A Good Yarn opened and out came Lydia Goetz and a man K.O. assumed must be her husband. They were accompanied by a young boy, obviously their son. Lydia paused when she saw K.O.
Lydia was well-known on the street.
“Were you planning to stop in here?” she asked, and cast a quick glance at her husband. “Brad convinced me to close early today. I already sent my sister home, but if you need yarn, I’d be happy to get it for you. In fact, you could even pay me later.” She looked at her husband again, as if to make sure he didn’t object to the delay. “It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. I know what it’s like to run out of yarn when you only need one ball to finish a project.”
“No, no, that’s fine,” K.O. said. She’d always wanted to learn to knit and now that LaVonne was taking a class, maybe she’d join, too.
“Merry Christmas!” Lydia tucked her arm in her husband’s.
“Merry Christmas,” K.O. returned. Soon they hurried down the street, with the boy trotting ahead.
Transfixed, K.O. stood there unmoving. The lump that had formed in her throat grew huge. The whole world was in love, and she’d let the opportunity of her life slip away. She’d let Wynn go with barely a token protest, and that was wrong. If she believed in their love, she needed to fight for it, instead of pretending everything was fine without him. Because it wasn’t. In fact, she was downright miserable, and it was time she admitted it.
She knew what she had to do. Afraid that if she didn’t act quickly, she’d lose her nerve, K.O. ran back across the street and into her own building. Marching to the elevator, she punched the button and waited.
She wasn’t even sure what she’d tell Wynn; she’d figure that out when she saw him. But seeing him was a necessity. She couldn’t spend another minute like this. She’d made a terrible mistake, and so had he. If there was any chance of salvaging this relationship, she had to try.
Her heart seemed to be pounding at twice its normal rate as s
he rode the elevator up to Wynn’s penthouse condominium. She’d only been inside once, and then briefly.
By the time she reached his front door, she was so dizzy she’d become light-headed. That didn’t deter her from ringing the buzzer and waiting for what felt like an eternity.
Only it wasn’t Wynn who opened the door. It was Max.
“Katherine,” he said, obviously surprised to find her at his son’s door. “Come in.”
“Is Wynn available?” she asked, as winded as if she’d climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Talking to Wynn—now—had assumed a sense of urgency.
Wynn stepped into the foyer and frowned when he saw her. “Katherine?” She could see the question in his eyes.
“Merry Christmas,” Max said. He didn’t seem inclined to leave.
“Could we talk?” she asked. “Privately?” She was terrified he’d tell her that everything had already been said, so she rushed to add, “Really, this will only take a moment and then I’ll leave.”
Wynn glanced at his father, who took the hint and reluctantly left the entryway.
K.O. remained standing there, clutching her purse with one hand and the pink box with the other. “I was out at the French Café and I talked to Alix.”
“Alix?”
“She’s one of the bakers and a friend of Lydia’s—and Lydia’s the lady who owns A Good Yarn. But that’s not important. What is important is that Alix received an engagement ring for Christmas. She’s so happy and in love, and Lydia is, too, and Susannah from the flower shop and just about everyone on the street. It’s so full of Christmas out there, and all at once it came to me that…that I couldn’t let this Christmas pass with things between us the way they are.” She stopped to take a deep breath.
“Katherine, I—”
“Please let me finish, otherwise I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to continue.”
He motioned for her to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Wynn, for everything. For wanting to be right and then subjecting you to Zoe and Zara. Their behavior did change after Zelda read your book and while I can’t say I agree with everything you—”
“This is an apology?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“I’m trying. I’m sincerely trying. Please hear me out.”
He crossed his arms and looked away. In fact, he seemed to find something behind her utterly fascinating.
This wasn’t the time to lose her courage. She went on, speaking quickly, so quickly that the words practically ran together. “Basically, I wanted to tell you it was rude of me to assume I knew more than you on the subject of children. It was presumptuous and self-righteous. I was trying to prove how wrong you were…are, and that I was right. To be honest, I don’t know what’s right or wrong. All I know is how much I miss you and how much it hurts that you’re out of my life.”
“I’m the one who’s been presumptuous and self-righteous,” Wynn said. “You are right, Katherine, about almost everything. It hasn’t been easy for me to accept that, let alone face it.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, aren’t you two going to kiss and make up?” Max demanded, coming back into the foyer. Apparently he’d been standing in the living room, out of sight, and had listened in on every word. “Wynn, if you let this woman walk away, then you’re a fool. An even bigger fool than you know.”
“I—I…” Wynn stuttered.
“You’ve been in love with her for weeks.” Max shook his head as if this was more than obvious.
Wynn pinned his father with a fierce glare.
“You love me?” K.O. asked, her voice rising to a squeak. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”
A light flickered in his eyes at her confession. “Katherine, I appreciate your coming. However, this is serious and it’s something we both need to think over. It’s too important—we can’t allow ourselves to get caught up in emotions that are part of the holidays. We’ll talk after Christmas, all right?”
“I can’t do that,” she cried.
“Good for you,” Max shouted, encouraging her. “I’m going to phone LaVonne. This calls for champagne.”
“What does?” Wynn asked.
“Us,” she explained. “You and me. I love you, Wynn, and I can’t bear the thought that I won’t see you again. It’s tearing me up. I don’t need time to think about us. I already know how I feel, and if what your father says is true, you know how you feel about me.”
“Well, I do need to think,” he insisted. “I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do yet, because I can’t continue promoting a book whose theories I can no longer wholly support. Let me deal with that first.”
“No,” she said. “Love should come first.” She stared into his eyes. “Love changes everything, Wynn.” Then, because it was impossible to hold back for another second, she put down her purse and the Yule log and threw her arms around him.
Wynn was stiff and unbending, and then his arms circled her, too. “Are you always this stubborn?” he asked.
“Yes. Sometimes even more than this. Ask Zelda.”
Wynn kissed her. His arms tightened around her, as if he found it hard to believe she was actually there in his embrace.
“That’s the way to handle it,” Max said from somewhere behind them.
Wynn and K.O. ignored him.
“He’s been a real pain these last few days,” Max went on. “But this should improve matters.”
Wynn broke off the kiss and held her gaze. “We’ll probably never agree on everything.”
“Probably.”
“I can be just as stubborn as you.”
“That’s questionable,” she said with a laugh.
His lips found hers again, as if he couldn’t bear not to kiss her. Each kiss required a bit more time and became a bit more involved.
“I don’t believe in long courtships,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.
“I don’t, either,” she said. “And I’m going to want children.”
He hesitated.
“We don’t need all the answers right this minute, do we, Dr. Jeffries?”
“About Santa—”
She interrupted him, cutting off any argument by kissing him. What resistance there was didn’t last.
“I was about to suggest we could bring Santa out from beneath that sleigh,” he whispered, his eyes briefly fluttering open.
“Really?” This was more than she’d dared hope.
“Really.”
She’d been more than willing to forgo Santa as long as she had Wynn. But Santa and Wynn was better yet.
“No hamsters, though,” he said firmly.
“Named Freddy,” she added.
Wynn chuckled. “Or anything else.”
The doorbell chimed and Max hurried to answer it, ushering LaVonne inside. The instant she saw Wynn and K.O. in each other’s arms, she clapped with delight. “Didn’t I tell you everything would work out?” she asked Max.
“You did, indeed.”
LaVonne nodded sagely. “I think I may have psychic powers, after all. I saw it all plain as day in the leaves of my poinsettia,” she proclaimed. “Just before Max called, two of them fell to the ground—together.”
Despite herself, K.O. laughed. Until a few minutes ago, her love life had virtually disappeared. Now there was hope, real hope for her and Wynn to learn from each other and as LaVonne’s prophecy—real or imagined—implied, grow together instead of apart.
“Champagne, anyone?” Max asked, bringing out a bottle.
Wynn still held K.O. and she wasn’t objecting. “I need to hire you,” he whispered close to her ear.
“Hire me?”
“I’m kind of late with my Christmas letter this year and I wondered if I could convince you to write one for me.”
“Of course. It’s on the house.” With his arms around her waist, she leaned back and looked up at him. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to say?”
“Oh, yes. You can write about the succe
ss of my first published book—and explain that there’ll be a retraction in the next edition.” He winked. “Or, if you prefer, you could call it a compromise.”
K.O. smiled.
“And then I want you to tell my family and friends that I’m working on a new book that’ll be called The Happy Child, and it’ll be about creating appropriate boundaries within the Free Child system of parenting.”
K.O. rewarded him with a lengthy kiss that left her knees weak. Fortunately, he had a firm hold on her, and she on him.
“You can also mention the fact that there’s going to be a wedding in the family.”
“Two weddings,” Max inserted as he handed LaVonne a champagne glass.
“Two?” LaVonne echoed shyly.
Max nodded, filling three more glasses. “Wynn and K.O.’s isn’t the only romance that started out rocky. The way I figure it, if I can win Tom over, his mistress shouldn’t be far behind.”
“Oh, Max!”
“Is there anything else you’d like me to say in your Christmas letter?” K.O. asked Wynn.
“Oh, yes, there’s plenty more, but I think we’ll leave it for the next Christmas letter and then the one after that.” He brought K.O. close once more and hugged her tight.
She loved being in his arms—and in his life. Next year’s Christmas letter would be from both of them. It would be all about how happy they were…and every word would be true.
Rainy Day Kisses
Prologue
“Is it true, Michelle?” Jolyn Johnson rolled her chair from her cubicle across the aisle and nearly caught the wheel on a drooping length of plastic holly. The Marketing Department had won the Christmas decoration contest for the third year in a row.
Michelle Davidson glanced away from her computer screen and immediately noticed her neighbor’s inquisitive expression. It certainly hadn’t taken long for the rumors to start. She realized, of course, that it was unusual for a high school senior to be accepted as an intern at a major company like Windy Day Toys, one of the most prestigious toy manufacturers in the country. She’d be working here during the Christmas and summer breaks—and she’d actually be getting paid! Michelle had connections—good connections. She’d been a bit naive, perhaps, to assume she could keep her relationship to Uncle Nate under wraps. Still, she’d hoped that with the Christmas season in full swing, her fellow workers would be too preoccupied with the holidays to pay any attention to her. Apparently that wasn’t the case.
Christmas Wishes Page 15
