Her Favorite Holiday Gift

by Lynda Sandoval

  Her chest fluttered, and she glanced at her bedside clock to calculate exactly how many hours until she’d see Eric again. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your family gig. See you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Colleen could tell from his tone, he really meant it.

  Which meant more to her than he could ever know.

  Chapter Six

  After speaking to Eric, Colleen wrestled with her bedsheets all night, repeatedly jolted from sleep by dream snippets she couldn’t quite recall. The moment her eyes popped open, the dream details fled, but the murky remnants of them left her unsettled and awake far too early. If only she could remember the gist of the dreams. Megan always said they dredged up important messages from the subconscious. Any significance to the fact that Colleen couldn’t remember anything? An uncooperative subconscious mind, or a lack of important messages?

  Or worse?

  Resignedly, she threw back the covers at dawn, showered, and crept out of the house before her mother roused. She didn’t want to converse with Mom this morning.

  Solitude. Thinking time. That’s what Colleen craved.

  She needed to sort out her restless feelings.

  Where better to get in touch with her own brain than within the verdant, wild beauty of the Lincoln Park Conservatory? Deep down, she aspired to a life of verdant, wild beauty, but she had no idea how to get there or what that actually meant in practical terms. It was probably too late for her anyway, but the notion sure sounded appealing.

  Colleen entered the conservatory, along with a few other early birds, when it opened at nine. Her goal—because setting one each morning was a habit she couldn’t quite break, even on her days off—was to purge her mind of last night’s disturbing lack of sleep before she met up with Eric at ten. Taking a full sixty minutes to indulge in pure sensory stimulation for no other reason than a brain dump?

  Heavenly.

  She rarely allowed herself the luxury. Today, she planned to revel in it. She had promised her mom she’d do something fun, after all. Of course, enjoying herself alone brought up guilt that she hadn’t agreed to her mom’s olive branch suggestion that the two of them should do something fun together, but Colleen couldn’t think about that right now.

  Dissatisfaction.

  Guilt.

  Remorse.

  She desperately needed to wind her way out of this labyrinth of negativity before she lost herself completely and forever. The steamy tropical atmosphere of the Orchid House wrapped her in safety. As she walked slowly through, admiring the exotic orchids, bromeliads and other plants, she practiced Megan’s deep-breathing techniques. It helped to center her, to pull the scents of loamy soil, blossoms and moisture into her soul. All that, combined with the beauty of the Victorian peaked glass ceilings and the winding red paths that led her to one surprise vignette after the other, created a magical atmosphere that carried her straight out of her cold Chicago winter survival mind-set, out of her disconcerting dreamscape, into something calmer, more languid.

  She felt like a woman for once, not a lawyer.

  And, for once, that wasn’t a bad thing.

  How had that happened?

  Pensive, she trailed her fingers along the silky soft petals of a purple spotted orchid. When exactly had thinking of herself as a woman turned into a bad thing? Law school? Not then, although a few seeds had been planted. They hadn’t fully sprouted, however, until she signed on with McTierney, Wenzel, Scott and Framus. Working with the boys’ club had slowly chipped away at her sense of self, until she was left with a distorted view of what constituted…well, everything.

  Self-image, success, womanhood.

  What was success, really?

  And who exactly was Colleen Delaney?

  A shell. Nothing more.

  She felt as if she’d sold her soul to a dark power and hadn’t even seen it coming. Now she was stuck treading fetid water in some horrible underworld sea, but maintaining her lifestyle depended on paddling, paddling, paddling. So she was stuck. The ultimate catch-22.

  But she didn’t want to think about work, the Jones case, her mother or any of the difficult decisions she probably needed to face. This was supposed to be her time. She wanted to enjoy her surroundings and revel in the fact that she just might be able to help Esther Wellington after all, in some small way. A subtle smackdown to the partners at her firm. If nothing else, that should boost her spirits.

  She wished she were strong enough to simply leave, find a firm that fit her better. But she’d worked so hard and had become so entrenched in her position, the thought of starting over was as bad as sticking it out where she was. She had financial obligations, the responsibility for her mother. The whole big mess was too much to contemplate in the middle of an important case.

  Tranquility eventually eased the knots in her shoulders and dampened the pounding in her temples. She claimed a tucked-away bench and began sifting through her notes on the Esther Wellington case. Even after breaking the news to the woman that she wouldn’t be able to represent her, Colleen hadn’t been able to part with her notes. A fortuitous turn of events, as it turned out. And yet, the more she delved into the files and thought about Eric taking Esther’s case without hesitation, the harder it was to ignore all the dark and empty corners in her life.

  Was that what her subconscious had dredged up in her dreams last night? Her many deficits?

  She wanted to take on meaningful pro bono work, to make a difference for people like Esther. And, although she wasn’t the sort of woman who needed a man, needed to be in love, she wouldn’t mind a little human affection now and then. Some laughter, intimate conversation.

  She wouldn’t mind some hot sex.

  She wouldn’t mind, she realized, having a life. It had been so long since she’d felt truly alive. She’d been sleepwalking through her days and nights, but until Eric had reappeared in her world, she hadn’t recognized it. Unable to concentrate, and worried that she’d lose the mellowness she’d attained, she set her case notes aside to just take in the gardens for a moment, one that stretched out until she blissfully lost track of time.

  The ring of her cell phone startled her into the present, the shrill sound oddly incongruent with the peaceful surroundings. She dug the phone out of her handbag, checked it, and actually smiled at the screen. Eric. Flipping her hair aside, she held it to her ear. “Hey.”

  “Where are you?”

  “On a bench next to the—” she leaned forward and read a small sign “—Rumrilla Sugar Baby.”

  “Alrighty then, honey bunch, I’m walking past the Bates Fountain right now,” he teased.

  “Amusing,” she said, in a droll tone. But she couldn’t miss the flip-flop of her tummy.

  “Hey, you used a term of endearment first. Just following your lead.”

  Colleen rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “It’s the name of the plant, Nelson.”

  “Right,” he deadpanned, not the least bit apologetic. “My mistake.”

  She felt happier and lighter than she had in weeks, just hearing his voice. But she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was she pathetic? Was she her mother’s daughter? “Do you know how to get here? Through the formal French gardens, and—”

  “I’m well acquainted with the Orchid House. I’ve been here many times.”

  “Really.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I guess I am, a little. Though I don’t know why.” Eric Nelson was a flower fan. Not that big of a departure for the guy she used to know, she supposed. “Well…great, then. I’ll see you soon? The weather’s gorgeous inside.”

  “I’ll be there in moments. Warm the bench for me.”

  Colleen ended the phone call realizing one more thing in this morning rife with epiphanies. She didn’t want to be a benchwarmer in life anymore. She’d been doing it for far too long, and as a result, her world felt off-kilter, unbalanced, unfulfilled. She was so far gone, sh
e didn’t know how to get back to that center, where she knew who she was and why she wanted the things she did. The thought of overhauling her life overwhelmed her.

  Baby steps, Megan would say. One small bit at a time.

  Maybe repairing the friendship she once had with Eric was the first step to a series of changes Colleen needed to make, and maybe today was the day. She mentally shredded her all business mantra. Today, no matter how scary, she’d challenge herself to move beyond that. What exactly that would entail, she didn’t know. But she felt ready to leap and wait for the net to appear.

  Waiting for Eric to appear turned out to be a scarier, albeit more exciting, prospect. She glanced down the winding path, first in one direction, then the other, as anticipation built in her middle. When he rounded a curve of greenery and came into view, she couldn’t prevent the sharp inhale. The man enthralled her. Pure and simple. Vying for nonchalance, she raised a hand.

  Eric’s smile made his eyes gleam. “There you are,” he said, dropping onto the bench next to her. “I was about to do the Marco Polo thing via cell phone. This place is a maze.”

  “I didn’t want to move from the—” she indicated the sign “—sugar baby. Thought it might throw you off.”

  He leaned in and read the sign. “Damn. So you really didn’t call me a sweet name.”

  She chuckled. “I really didn’t. Sorry.”

  “Oh, well. A guy can dream, right?”

  Colleen’s face heated, and she let her gaze drop to the files on her lap. God, had she completely forgotten how to harmlessly flirt with a man?

  Or was it just this man?

  Eric seemed to pick up on her discomfort. “So what do you have for me?”

  Back onto safe territory.

  She patted the stack of folders. “Quite a bit, actually. I delved pretty far into the case before I had to let it go.” She handed the paperwork to him, and watched as he flipped through quickly.

  “Wow. This isn’t preliminary research.”

  “No.”

  “You truly worked this case.”

  She twisted her lips to the side. “I tried.”

  He studied her, then laid a palm gently on her forearm. “What really happened, Coll? Friend to friend. I’m sure you’ve researched my background now. You know I’m not trying to get dirt to use against you later.”

  Her shoulders sagged. It wasn’t as if her firm’s reputation was a secret. “The partners aren’t really big on pro bono.” Especially not if Colleen was the attorney making the request. “They’re much more fond of billable hours.”

  “I figured that was it.”

  “I wanted to help her, Eric. I did.”

  “I can see that from all you gathered.” He huffed, shaking his head with disgust. “Money-grubbing bastards. Don’t they see the benefits of giving back to the community?”

  Colleen realized anew what an alternate universe she worked in. How had she been so blind? “I’m not sure they care. It’s definitely not part of the firm’s unwritten mission statement, not that they’ve actually let me read the apparently supersecret mission statement. Different story, though.” A pause fell between them with an emotional thud. Colleen swallowed, then gestured to her research. “Anyway, I hope you can use it.”

  He scanned her notes. “It’s a solid bet that the contractor’s going down. And your work will help me accomplish that so much quicker.” For a moment, they sat in companionable silence, taking in the calming effects of the gardens. Or, Eric enjoyed the gardens while Colleen shored up the nerve to do something she should’ve done years ago.

  Baby steps.

  Deep breath in…eased out. “Eric? I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. If your supervisors won’t let you take a case—”

  “That’s not what I’m sorry for.” As boldly as she could, she met his gaze, watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall on a swallow.

  “Then, what?” he asked quietly, as if not wanting to break the spell they seemed to be under.

  “Us. How I treated you…after.”

  A beat passed. “Aw, Colleen,” Eric said, his voice laced with regret. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “It’s okay.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder, mostly because that meant she didn’t have to look into his face. She had to say this, get it out. The words, however, were excruciating. “It’s not okay. The night we…that we…you and I—”

  “I know the night, Coll.”

  “Right. Well, it was…beautiful. Unimaginable.”

  “Earth-shattering?”

  “That, too.”

  “Glad it wasn’t only earth-shattering for me.”

  “It scared me,” Colleen admitted.

  She felt his sigh more than heard it. “Why?”

  “Long story for another time. But I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, regardless of my fear.”

  “It’s really okay. Happened a long time ago.”

  “Please, just listen. You made me feel amazing, and amazing about myself, which is rare.”

  Eric rested his cheek on her head. “You should feel amazing about yourself every day.”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m a mess.” More than he knew.

  “You’re fine. I mean, granted, you work for idiots, but you? Top shelf, Coll. Always have been.”

  She huffed her disbelief, not about to run off a litany of her shortcomings. “Anyway, I’m sorrier than you know. You were never anything but good to me, and I took that for granted then threw it away. I guess I didn’t realize how special a person you are.”

  “Hey, you didn’t throw it away altogether. I’m right here, right now, aren’t I?”

  “That’s different. I guess I’m just saying, I hope we can be friends again. Truce?”

  “Truce.” Abruptly, Eric pulled away from her, but he gripped her elbow and his eyes gleamed. “What are you doing today?”

  “Um, well—”

  “I mean, for the rest of the day.”

  She considered making an excuse, fleeing, avoiding the danger of him. But she was tired of that. Hadn’t she vowed to leap today? “Actually, nothing.”

  “Let’s spend the day together. It’ll be our little ritual to bury the past.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then laughed, in spite of herself. So much like Megan, this guy. She simply couldn’t stop noticing that. “Fine. What do you want to do?”

  “Anything. Nothing. I don’t care.” His tone lowered into a huskier version of itself, and he ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I’ve missed you. Missed your friendship and the times we used to spend together just talking. We can do…whatever.”

  She pondered the dazzling array of options in front of them. “I can’t risk running into anyone from my firm. I know that seems so juvenile, but with the Jones case—”

  “No explanation necessary. We’ll leave the city.”

  “O-okay.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  She crossed her arms and considered the question. If she could go anywhere, do anything with Eric Nelson…? It came to her in a flash. “You want the truth?”

  “No,” he said, in a droll tone. “I love it when women lie to me.”

  She smacked him playfully in the arm, then tossed her hair and tried for brave. “Okay. I want to go to Schaumburg. To your parents’ house.”

  Eric pulled back in disbelief. “What? It’s supposed to be a fun day. Really?”

  “Yes, really. And it will be fun. I’ve heard about the infamous Nelson family dinners for years. I want to see where they happen, give myself a frame of reference.”

  “Well, okay,” he said, his tone dubious. “You may regret this. The Nelson family can drain the life out of you before you realize what’s happening.”

  “No worries.” She stood, shouldered her purse. “My firm already sucked the life out of me, so I’m an empty shell.” She didn’t miss the line of concern that bisected his brows, and she flipped away hi
s worry with one hand. “It’s okay. At least for today, I don’t care. Show me where you grew up, where you went to high school, where you had your first kiss. I want to meet your mom and see your childhood bedroom.”

  The interest in his eyes sparked. “My childhood bedroom, huh? Now that sounds like fun.”

  She scoffed. “Don’t be insane. It’s your parents’ house. That’s not what I meant.”

  “A guy’s gotta dream, Colleen,” he said, before draping his arm casually over her shoulder and steering her toward the exit.

  “You dream a little bit too much, I think,” she told him, with feigned primness. Deep inside, however, she hoped all his dreams were about her.

  “Probably true. Besides, it wouldn’t be as titillating as one would hope. Mom finally accepted the fact that I wasn’t coming home and turned it into a scrapbooking room.”

  They left the gardens arm in arm, laughing.

  Now this, Colleen thought, was fun.

  Eric couldn’t expose the level of nervousness he felt about bringing Colleen to his parents’ house. His mother would think he and Colleen were dating and ask all kinds of invasive questions. His dad would draw him into some sort of embarrassing and meaningless debate. Odds were, Brian and his wife, Melody, would be there, too. Innuendo and assumptions would zing through the Nelson clan quicker than a series of lightning strikes from a single storm super-cell.

  Colleen didn’t know what she was in for. On the other hand, the thought of his family pairing him with Colleen in their minds held the kind of appeal he didn’t dare raise his hopes about, despite her heartfelt apology. Not with all he knew about Colleen.

  Friendship was one thing. More? Too much to wish for.

  They passed the water tower announcing their entry into Schaumberg, and he killed as much time as possible dashing from elementary school to high school to first kiss to first breakup—even first job, at the chicken-wing restaurant that was now a Chinese take-out place called Wok On In. He crawled past the old Schaumburg airport and crept around Volkening Lake. He even showed her the giant red kettle grill in front of the Weber Grill Restaurant. Eighteen years of his life summed up with a few select pins in the map of his youth. Crazy.