One Charmed Christmas

by Sheila Roberts

  Kurt shrugged. “I think they want to be. Most people,” he amended.

  “Yeah,” Trevor said. “Not counting Dad.”

  “Not counting Dad,” Kurt agreed.

  Trevor thought of the chocolate shoe he was carrying, boxed and bagged with the care due such treasure. “Mom would have loved that chocolate shop.”

  “Yeah, she would’ve.”

  “You know, Misty kind of reminds me of her.”

  “She’s got a lot of Mom’s good qualities,” Kurt said.

  “You gonna make it permanent?”

  “Yeah, so don’t get any ideas.”

  Trevor was sure his brother had gotten the last good woman out there.

  Kurt and Misty had met online. Maybe Trevor needed to try that. He sure hadn’t done so well on his own. There had to be someone somewhere who had both a big smile and a big heart. Are you out there, Cinderella?

  He thought of the woman he’d seen on the ship. What was she like? Did she already have a Prince Charming?

  If she didn’t, would he qualify? He was just an average guy who liked to watch football and play poker with his buddies, go for a bike ride in the summer, make a batch of lasagna and have friends over. He gave money to environmental charities and cancer research (in honor of Mom). But he was also stubborn and tended to hold a grudge, even though he knew better. And he snored. Not very princely.

  But Kurt wasn’t all that princely, either, and he’d found somebody. You never knew.

  The face of the cutie on the boat danced in front of him. He did have a shoe.

  * * *

  Even Denise, who had twice the energy of Catherine, agreed that a little rest would be good before going to the lounge. The two women stretched out on their beds and within minutes Denise was snoring. Catherine found she was simply too wound up to sleep in spite of her jet lag.

  She was actually here, in Europe, taking a cruise. It had been on her bucket list for years, and was something she’d lobbied for doing once Bill retired. They’d done their share of camping when the kids were small—nothing Catherine had enjoyed but she’d been a sport. They’d finally bought an RV, something Bill had always wanted, and had taken a couple of short trips in it. Those trips had been fun but she’d still had to cook and clean. The idea of taking a vacation where she didn’t have to do anything but enjoy the scenery had appealed strongly to her.

  “We’ll take a cruise as soon as I retire,” he’d promised after she’d showed him yet another cruise brochure, and they’d gotten passports.

  But then, two years before he could retire, he’d had a massive heart attack and died, and she’d abandoned the idea of taking that cruise. In fact, she’d abandoned the idea of doing much of anything.

  Now here she was, with the dream coming true. Bill would have loved this. They should never have waited. Life, she was coming to realize, had to be lived in the now because you could head for the future only to discover when you got there you didn’t have the one you’d planned on.

  She certainly hadn’t planned on losing Bill, who’d always been so healthy, and she’d never dreamed she’d be facing what lay ahead of her. Somehow, she’d gotten it into her head that by sixty-one she’d dodged the cancer bullet. But when it came to cancer there was no cutoff date, no safe zone.

  Denise finally awoke with a snort. She saw Catherine next to her, wide-awake, and stretched and smiled. “Did I snore?”

  “Only a little. Very delicate.”

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  “I guess I’m too excited,” Catherine said.

  “Well, then, let’s get up and check out the rest of the ship. We can grab a bite and relax until the welcome program at six.”

  They freshened up, then went down the narrow hallway, back through the lobby and up the few stairs to the next level where their map of the ship showed the lounge to be.

  “I’m going to be in heaven,” Denise predicted, checking out the coffee station. “We can make everything from lattes to cappuccinos. Ooh, and cookies. I will definitely splurge tomorrow.”

  “I will definitely splurge today,” Catherine said, and helped herself to one. “Delicious,” she reported.

  The glass doors in front of them slid open, leading them into a huge area that was bigger than any lounge Catherine had ever been in. Windows ran along both sides of it, offering two different views of the city. The bar was centered so you passed it no matter which side of the ship you entered from, and it boasted almost more bottles than a liquor store. The rest of the lounge was filled with groupings of upholstered chairs and sofas and coffee tables. At the bow end, a long table displayed an elaborate gingerbread town, coated with frosting snow and sparkling with all manner of candies. Beyond that was a glass-enclosed space set up for casual dining with more tables and chairs and a buffet-style serving station.

  The women went there first, helping themselves to crusty rolls, soup, cold cuts and salad, then circled back to the lounge, where several of their fellow cruisers had already staked out conversation areas.

  Catherine caught sight of the woman who had sat next to her on the plane. The woman smiled and waved.

  Catherine waved back. “Uh-uh,” she said to Denise, trying not to move her mouth.

  “For sure uh-uh. Let’s start our own party,” Denise suggested, and headed for a grouping in the middle of the room.

  Party. Catherine liked the sound of that.

  They were barely seated before a server wearing a white jacket was in front of them, asking what they’d like to drink.

  “Dirty martini,” said Denise. “Extra olives, please.”

  Catherine wasn’t much of a drinker and she hesitated.

  “Give her a rum and Coke,” said Denise. “You can pretend you’re back in college,” she told Catherine with a grin.

  “That sounds good,” Catherine said. “And extra cherries, please.”

  “Of course,” he murmured.

  Denise sat back in her chair and surveyed the room. “This is the life. I think, instead of going into a nursing home when I’m older, I’ll live on a cruise ship. No cooking, no cleaning, someone to wait on me every day, and laundry service. Plus beautiful scenery.”

  “But you’d only have the friends you made until the cruise ended. Then they’d leave and you’d be alone,” Catherine said. That felt too transient after having lost a husband. She wanted something more permanent.

  As if anything was permanent. Who was she kidding?

  “Then you’d make new friends,” Denise said as the man returned with their drinks. “Or, better yet, you get a bunch of your friends to go along with you and you all book rooms next to each other. You’d be planning your own floating retirement community.”

  Catherine smiled. “Now, there’s an idea.” Except you’d never see your children.

  She decided to keep that thought to herself. Denise would be sure to make some snide comment in light of her kids’ poor holiday behavior.

  “There’s someone I’d invite to the neighborhood.”

  Catherine was in the middle of reaching for her drink and made the mistake of looking to see who her friend had spotted. And there it went, tipping over on the little table, splashing her in the process.

  “Oh, no,” she said, brushing at her slacks. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  “Thank you, girlfriend. That was like a psychic signal. He’s coming our way.”

  Catherine was embarrassed, then flustered, as a tall man with tanned skin, salt-and-pepper hair and a finely chiseled face approached them. He had a younger woman in tow, somewhere in her forties, perhaps, with dark hair and pretty eyes. Wife or daughter? He was fit enough looking, probably in his sixties but one of those super agers, so it could be either.

  “What a shame,” he said as their server mopped up the spill. “Let’s get you another drink What
are you having?”

  What she was having didn’t seem very impressive. Catherine should have been drinking champagne or a martini like Denise. “Just a rum and Coke. I’m not much of a drinker,” she told the stranger.

  “No champagne?” he suggested.

  “A little too sour for my taste,” she admitted. Plebian her.

  “Not all of it,” he said. “Let me introduce you to something I think you’ll like.”

  Food was included in the price of the cruise. So was any wine or beer passengers drank with their meals. Drinks in the bar were a different story.

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” Catherine protested. Judging from the expression on her face, the young woman with the stranger agreed.

  “I could,” said Denise.

  He smiled at Catherine. The man had a beautiful smile. “Looks like you’re outvoted,” he said, and spoke to their server.

  “Really, you shouldn’t have,” Catherine protested as their server left.

  “I think I should,” he said easily. “Do you ladies mind if we join you?”

  “Not at all,” said Denise. She was practically purring.

  The man sat down in a chair opposite Catherine and crossed his legs. His slacks were expensive. So were his shoes. He leaned back in his chair, ready for a nice, long visit. The woman, also well dressed in black leggings, stylish half boots and a black cashmere sweater, took a chair and perched on the end of it, ready to leave as soon as it was socially acceptable.

  Which she would have to do soon if she wanted to find another place to sit. The lounge was starting to fill up, people staking out seats and munching on sandwiches, ordering drinks, getting acquainted. Another half an hour and it would be very hard to find a place to sit.

  “I’m Rudy Nichols,” he said. “This is my daughter, Athena.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Denise said. “I’m Denise and this is my friend Catherine. We’re doing a girlfriend trip,” she added, and lifted a hand to slip a lock of hair behind her ear. The left hand with the bare ring finger. Oh, brother.

  “Do you ladies cruise very much?” Rudy asked.

  “I’ve done the Mediterranean, both sides of the Caribbean and the Hawaiian Islands. This is my first river cruise,” Denise told him.

  He nodded, smiled, then turned expectantly to Catherine.

  “This is my first cruise ever,” she confessed. “My husband and I had talked about taking one, but...” She could feel her throat closing up and her eyes starting to sting with tears. “He died.” She probably sounded pathetic. But losing your mate was pathetic.

  Rudy’s easy smile turned sober. “I’m so sorry. It’s hard to lose someone you love. I lost my wife six years ago. I still miss her.”

  “Oh, I am sorry,” Catherine said, seeing the pain in his eyes.

  Thankfully, their server arrived with a bottle of champagne and several glasses on a tray.

  “Shall we toast to better times ahead?” Rudy suggested once their flutes were filled with sparkling bubbles.

  Catherine nodded and tried not to think about what was waiting for her in January. “To better times.”

  They’d just taken their first sip when two women approached. Catherine remembered seeing them in the milling crowd down below, both slender and attractive, one with light brown hair cut in a shaggy bob, the other with longer blond hair.

  “Are these seats taken?” asked the brunette, pointing to two empty seats.

  “No, by all means, join us,” Catherine said as Rudy stood to greet them.

  “Thank you,” said the brunette, speaking for both of them. “It’s getting crowded in here.” The blonde settled in the seat opposite Rudy and she took the other. “I’m Sierra Johnson and this is my sister, Sophie Miles.”

  “Rudy Nichols, my daughter, Athena,” said Rudy.

  Athena gave the newcomers a steely look. Catherine remembered that Athena was the goddess of war. This woman could probably live up to her name.

  “And Catherine,” he continued, “and... Denise, right?”

  Denise nodded, smiled like they were already best friends, then took a sip of her champagne.

  “Nice to meet you all,” said Sophie. “I’m looking forward to this cruise. I hope no one gets sick, though,” she added, which struck Catherine as odd. Of all the topics to bring up when first meeting fellow travelers.

  “It looks like they have plenty of hand sanitizers on board,” Rudy said easily.

  “That’s good,” Sophie said. “I brought my own, but it’s good to have extras on hand.”

  “Where are you girls from?” Catherine asked. A much better topic than germs, which made her think of illness, which made her think of her own precarious health.

  “Washington state,” Sierra told her.

  “Us, too,” Catherine said.

  “We’re from California,” Rudy volunteered. “I hope you won’t hold that against us.”

  “We won’t. As long as you don’t move to Washington,” Denise said with a teasing smile.

  He nodded, getting the joke.

  There had been a time when Washingtonians resented the influx of Californians into their state, raising the price of houses and changing the political landscape. Californicating, they’d called it. But those days were gone. Everybody was moving to Washington now, and not just from California.

  “Tell me, Sierra, what do you girls do when you’re not traveling?” Denise asked.

  “I’m afraid my job isn’t very exciting,” Sierra said. “I work in admissions at a hospital in Seattle. My sister’s the one with the cool job.”

  “Oh? What do you do?” Denise asked her.

  “I’m a professional shopper,” Sophie said.

  “Aren’t we all?” said Athena. It sounded like a sneer.

  “No, really, I do it for a living,” Sophie said. “I purchase gifts and giveaways for event planners and corporate executives, shop for companies needing help with employee gifts. That sort of thing.”

  “Now, there’s a creative way to make a living,” Rudy said. “How did you settle on that?”

  “It happened gradually. I helped a couple of friends who were getting married find bridesmaid gifts. Someone else was giving a baby shower and wanted ideas for party favors. More people started coming to me and then one of my mom’s friends, who’s a writer, wanted to do some giveaways. She paid me and pretty soon I was in business.”

  “Never knew there was such a thing,” said Denise. “It sounds fun.”

  “It is. I love my work. What about you?” Sophie asked her.

  “Me? I was just a boring Realtor.”

  Who’d been the top seller in her office. “There’s nothing boring about you,” Catherine said to her.

  “How about you, Catherine?” Rudy asked.

  She was the boring one of the group. A stay-at-home mom for years—cookie baker, Camp Fire Girl volunteer, PTA secretary. She’d never had her own business or made a killing in real estate. She’d always thought it would be fun to write a book but she never had. Never learned to ski, never took up painting. Never even entered a recipe contest, although all her friends had urged her to. She knitted, but who would care about that?

  “I’m afraid I didn’t do much at all,” she said, feeling suddenly inadequate. “I was an elementary school secretary. I do like children,” she added.

  “Do you have children?” Rudy asked her.

  “Two. A son and a daughter.” Who are both too busy to be with me. She forced the corners of her lips to stay up. Hold that pose. “You obviously have a lovely daughter,” she said to him. Or she would be if she smiled.

  “I do,” Rudy said. “I’m a lucky man.”

  “Are you retired?” Catherine asked.

  “Getting ready to in another year,” said Rudy. “I’m a doctor.”

  “A doctor?” So
phie repeated, and looked at him as if he’d just said, I’m a god.

  “What kind of doctor?” her sister asked.

  “Just a lowly GP.”

  “A general practitioner. They treat everything,” Sophie said. “You’re so lucky to have a father who’s a doctor,” she told Athena.

  “I’m lucky to have a father who’s such a good man,” Athena corrected her.

  Sophie didn’t appear to be listening. She was too busy smiling at Rudy.

  She gave that lovely, shoulder-length hair a flip, crossed those slim, probably varicose-vein-free legs and leaned forward. “What’s the most interesting case you ever had?” she asked him.

  Oh, brother, Catherine thought in disgust. She wasn’t interested in remarrying or even in having a shipboard romance, not with what she had waiting for her after the holidays. So, really, she shouldn’t have been bothered by the conversation getting snatched from her. She’d certainly never thought of herself as insecure or the jealous type. But watching this young interloper in action, she felt both. Honestly, the girl was way too young for Rudy. Who’d invited these two to the party, anyway? Oh, yes, her.

  * * *

  Athena’s eyes narrowed as she listened while Sophie the shopper grilled her father about his medical career. Next she’d be wanting to know about his 401(k) and his California real estate investments.

  Athena was sure she could get rid of Sophie easily enough by pointing out the age difference between her and Daddy. He’d learned his lesson with that misalliance. And this woman was even younger than Nicole had been, for heaven’s sake.

  But the two older women were another matter. Denise was obviously on the hunt. Athena could tell by the way she’d looked at Daddy when they first entered the lounge. She was in great shape for someone her age, but that red hair. Really? Obviously dyed. Still, Athena had to admit, it looked good on her. It was thick and she wore it short and sassy. Daddy wasn’t that into redheads, though, thank God.

  Catherine was a little on the plump side but she had one of those sweet faces that made you think she’d be a good neighbor, the kind who watched your house when you were gone and brought over freshly baked banana bread. Yes, she was a stealth hunter, good at disguise. She wasn’t dressed to kill, just wearing a red turtleneck top and boring black slacks to send out the signal that flashy clothes weren’t important. She was keeping her agenda well hidden, pretending to be only mildly interested in Daddy. Her hair was chin length and slightly curly. And blond. Fading and shot with silver, but blond, nonetheless. Daddy had a thing for blondes, and this one was the right age for him. Ugh.