Blown Away

by Muriel Jensen

  Her eyes locked with his for a moment, and he wondered if she was remembering the kiss. He certainly was.

  “You had a friend with climbing gear,” she reminded him.

  “Those were special circumstances,” he countered. “A rooftop will seem like a piece of cake.”

  “Cool!” Taylor said. “I could help you. You can get onto the roof from my window.”

  Kara turned to him in sudden alarm. “You don’t do that, do you?”

  Taylor’s eyes widened, and he reassured her quickly, “No. But Cole could.”

  Kara looked relieved. Cole couldn’t believe she’d bought her son’s denial. It was clear to him from Taylor’s expression that the boy climbed onto the roof—probably often.

  “That’s all the lights, Mom,” Taylor said. “What do you think?”

  It was only too obvious to Cole that Taylor was trying to divert his mother’s attention. And he did.

  Kara examined the tree closely and nodded. “Looks good.” She turned to Cole with a reluctant wince. “What kind of garland did you buy?” she asked. “That fuzzy foil stuff?”

  He’d seen the thick foil ropes but had opted for a more natural-looking garland of bright red berries and pinecones. As he pulled the garland out of a bag and held it toward her, he teased, “Somehow I figured garland was an indicator of style. So there. I may have a smaller tree than yours, but it’s going to be chic.”

  She smiled as she reached out to touch the realistic berries. “That’s the garland I wanted to get for the mantel, but I couldn’t afford it. It cost a fortune.”

  “I knew you’d be judging me on it, so I paid the price.” He climbed the ladder, still looking superior. “All the way to the top?”

  “No. Just a little way down so we can space the strands out. If the tree was against a wall, we could just do the front, but since it’s going to be seen through the French doors, the back has to look as good as the front.”

  “You mean I should have bought more?”

  “We can alternate it with some twiggy-looking stuff I didn’t use this year. It’ll add to the country air.”

  “Country air,” he repeated, then said firmly, “No bows or lacy stuff.”

  “Well, of course not. Give me some credit.”

  “Country means bows and lace.”

  “In some circles. In mine it means natural stuff, old wood, old fabrics, dried flowers and greens.”

  There was a knock at the front door and Taylor raced over and peeked through a window to see who it was. “It’s your aunt Shirley!” he reported, going to the door and pulling it open. “Hi!” he said as Shirley stepped inside. “We’re putting up Cole’s tree.”

  Shirley stopped in the middle of the living room to stare at the tree, clearly incredulous. “Oh my.” She put a hand to her heart. “I may have to sit down.”

  Kara had crawled under the tree to plug in the lights, and even with just the garland strung, it was beautiful.

  “Hi, Aunt Shirley.” Cole turned to Taylor and Blaine. “Taylor, you take Aunt Shirley’s coat, and Blaine, you can get her a cup of coffee, please. The coffee’s in the kitchen—just call if you need help.”

  The boys scurried to do his bidding as Kara scooted out backward from under the tree, presenting a delicious view.

  “How tall is it?” Shirley asked.

  Kara went to an overstuffed chair and fluffed the pillow in it, then motioned for his aunt to sit. “Eight feet. We’re very proud of that, considering Cole originally wanted a tree that would stand on a table.”

  Shirley studied her for a moment, then turned her gaze back to the tree. “As I live and breathe,” she said. “Last year he bought lots of presents, but otherwise, there wasn’t a sign of Christmas in this house.”

  “I’m usually at work,” Cole protested, “and we spent Christmas day at your house.” Although Cole believed in the spirit of Christmas, he had no use for the trappings. When he was first married he’d made an effort, but Angela had always been on the road, and putting up a tree had only reminded him that he didn’t have anyone to share it with.

  “When you do come home,” Kara said, gently resting her hand on his sleeve, “you’ll be surprised how much this touches you, revitalizes you.”

  It touched him already. He just wasn’t sure how good that was in the long run. He really didn’t need to resurrect the longing for all the things he’d decided it was easier to live without.

  The feel of her hand on his arm was causing a powerful reaction in him. Anytime he came in contact with Kara, he seemed to undergo a molecular change.

  As if aware of that reaction, she drew away and smiled at Shirley as Blaine brought Cole’s aunt a cup of coffee. Blaine had spent enough time at Cole’s to know how she liked it.

  “I brought coffee cake,” Kara said, heading for the kitchen. “Shall we all take a break?”

  KARA LIKED THE WAY Cole teased his aunt unmercifully about the designer sweatsuit she wore. The way he poured her more coffee, then went to his garage to get the vacuum cleaner he’d fixed for her, and put it in the trunk of her car.

  “He’s such a honey,” Shirley said to Kara when he carried the vacuum cleaner out, the boys and the dog determined to help him whether he needed them or not. She patted Kara’s hand on the table. “So, how serious is this?”

  “Not serious at all,” Kara fibbed, afraid of shocking the woman with the intensity of her feelings. “We’re just helping him put up his tree.”

  Shirley leaned toward her conspiratorially. “I think it’s more serious than you realize.”

  Unable to lie to Cole’s aunt, Kara decided to confide in her. “I’d be happy with that, but I know Cole’s concerned about what went wrong with his first marriage.”

  “Whatever went wrong,” Shirley replied, glancing toward the door, “was with Angela. Cole was hardworking, faithful—gave her all the flexibility her work on the road required, even when it afforded him none of the things he wanted in a marriage.” She shrugged. “I was living in Portland then, but Brad told me all about it. Angela was a nice enough girl, but she was never as committed to her marriage as she was to her career.”

  Cole and the boys burst back into the room, still laughing, and the time for confidences was over.

  Shirley opened a small round hatbox she’d brought in with her and handed it to Cole. “I must say my timing is perfect. Although, I thought you’d want to take these to work to share with your friends rather than use them yourself.”

  The boys leaned over Cole’s shoulders and Kara went around the table to watch him lift out what looked like cookies. There were about a dozen in various shapes—hearts, stars, bells, wreaths—and each one had a cut-out center that resembled colored glass.

  “They’re called stained glass cookies,” Shirley said, confirming Kara’s thoughts. “The glass is fruit glaze. But don’t try to eat them, because I sealed them with hair spray. They’ll look beautiful on your tree, Cole.”

  The boys hurried to hang them up. When the lights caught the sparkling “glass,” the ornaments gleamed.

  Cole gave his aunt a hug. “Thanks, Aunt,” he said with sincere affection. “I love them.”

  A short time later, Shirley got up to say her goodbyes.

  “Stay for lunch,” Cole suggested. “Kara brought something.”

  “Spaghetti casserole,” Kara said. “Fruit salad and bread sticks. Taylor’s favorite things.”

  Shirley made an appreciative sound. “I’d love to, but the grannies and I are due at Candy’s for a work party. We have a booth at the annual Christmas fair, and we’re taking all our crafts over to see if we have enough.”

  “I hope you’ll be selling those stained glass cookie ornaments,” Kara said, helping her with her coat.

  “We will—” Shirley hooked her arm in Kara’s as they walked to the door.

  Cole noted the gesture and raised an eyebrow.

  “But I’ll leave some for you with Cole.”

  “No, I want to
buy them.”

  “But I want to give them to you, and you have to do what I say because I’m older,” Shirley said firmly.

  Kara looked at her dubiously. “Who made that rule?”

  “I did. Cole knows all about it. He’ll tell you it’s pointless to argue with me.” She hugged Kara, then Cole, then each of the boys.

  They all walked out with her, and minutes later waved her off as she peeled away with a loud and slightly erratic burst of speed.

  “You’re lucky to have her,” Kara said as they trooped back inside. “My mother was always so full of her own problems. It’s hard to have to bottle up all the little things you really want to share with someone.”

  “I miss my dad a lot, too,” Taylor said. “We didn’t talk much, but I liked being with him.”

  No matter how many times Kara heard her son say he missed his father, the guilt she felt never lessened.

  Cole nodded. “I know. I missed my dad for a long time, even though I knew he left because he didn’t want to be with us.”

  Kara saw that Taylor was struggling with Cole’s words. He was telling himself that his father left because he didn’t want to be with Kara, not because he didn’t want to be with Taylor. She squared her shoulders. It was better for Taylor to believe that than to know the truth: his father had walked away from both of them because he was a common criminal and never gave a thought to either of them.

  “My dad got a divorce so he could join the army,” Taylor told Blaine.

  Blaine frowned. “You don’t need a divorce to do that.”

  Kara stepped forward quickly, encouraging the boys to open the box of ornaments she’d brought. “Put the bigger ones on the bottom,” she directed, ignoring Cole’s questioning glance, “and Cole will climb the ladder to put the smaller ones on the top.”

  “At home, we have a star for the top of the tree,” Blaine said, “and when you plug it in, it sparkles!”

  Taylor turned to Cole worriedly. “Did you buy something for the top?”

  “No,” he replied. “Can’t I just leave it?”

  Taylor put both hands to his face. “No! There has to be something at the top of the tree. We have an angel. Some people have a star or this funny tall ornament thing, but there has to be something.”

  “Okay, I’ll find something.”

  “It has to be special,” Taylor explained. “Ours was Mom’s when she was a little girl. And before that it was her grandma’s.”

  “Well…special things have to start somewhere,” Cole said, carrying the box of ornaments to the tree. “So even if I do have to buy it, it’ll be special because you told me I had to get it. And I’ll let you put it up for me.”

  Taylor turned to Kara. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure,” she replied, touched and suddenly a little worried. What if Cole’s involvement in this relationship wasn’t as serious as Shirley thought? What if he liked her son because he could relate to how much Taylor missed his dad, but didn’t particularly care about her? Was that even a consideration after their kiss? Was she just torturing herself, as she had a tendency to do?

  She worried all the way through lunch while Cole and the boys talked about police work while devouring her casserole and salad. Taylor and Blaine finally ran outside with Mel to let off steam, and Cole helped himself to the last spoonful of casserole.

  “This is delicious,” he said, sprinkling Parmesan on it. “I’m surprised you didn’t become a chef with your talent in the kitchen.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always loved to cook, but I’m passionate about music.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Angela was like that. And she wasn’t happy unless she was sharing it with an audience.”

  “In my case,” she said, “the passion’s deep, but the talent isn’t. I love sharing with children, because they think my meager talents are good enough, and I do the absolute best I can for them.”

  “Is Taylor showing any musical tendencies?”

  She leaned her chin on her hand and watched her son through the French doors. He and Blaine seemed to enjoy each other’s company. She was happy about that. “Oh, he likes to sing along with CDs. And he helped me pick out carols for my group’s Christmas gig. But he’s more interested in his science class and flatly refuses to play a musical instrument.”

  “All kids resist the family business, so to speak—don’t they?”

  She looked away, feeling wistful as she thought of the close relationship she and Taylor used to share. “I think mostly he’s resisting me. I know he loves me, but from his point of view, the divorce is all my fault. Uprooting him so I could take this job hasn’t helped.”

  COLE THOUGHT TWICE about his response, but decided not to hold back. He’d been watching Kara with Taylor all morning, and he saw something worrisome in her behavior. “Are you sure telling him his father joined the military was a good move?”

  She sat up, instantly defensive. He’d figured that would be her reaction. But she was becoming important to him, and he thought the subject worth exploring.

  “I’m never sure of anything. But I want Taylor to be certain that both his parents love him, even though they aren’t together.” Her snapping eyes and set chin told him she didn’t want to discuss the subject further.

  But he’d gone this far, and he remembered how close he and his mother and brother had become as they’d worked together to adjust to his father’s defection.

  “To make him a hero, though, when he’s really responsible for all the—”

  “Little boys need heroes,” she interrupted.

  “Little boys need to know they’re being dealt with honestly. That no matter how hard things get, they can depend on somebody for the truth.”

  She went pale. “You wouldn’t tell him?”

  He couldn’t believe she would ask that. “Of course I wouldn’t tell him. But I think you should.”

  “He’s upset enough that his father’s gone. Thinking he’s doing heroic things rather than wasting his days in jail gives him something to be proud of, rather than embarrassed about.”

  “Are you embarrassed that you loved him?” he asked, guessing he was only getting himself into deeper trouble. But he thought he’d detected something of her own humiliation in that remark. He hadn’t known Kara long, but she always seemed so together, so in charge, and he figured it might be good for her to admit that the past few years had been difficult.

  He was right about her reaction. She straightened in her chair and became cool, putting him at a distance.

  “I’m embarrassed that my love meant so little to him, that his time with his son was so expendable, and that he was willing to throw it all away in the interest of getting rich quickly.”

  He leaned toward her, not wanting her to shut him out. “So you misread him,” he said, “or he changed. That can happen. You thought he was more of a man than he turned out to be. If anyone should be embarrassed, shouldn’t it be him?”

  She put her fork down and reached for her coffee. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does matter,” he insisted. “You’re making an idol out of him for Taylor’s sake, and that isn’t right. He’ll feel betrayed by you when he finds out. You have to see things as they are and then move on.”

  “No, that’s your M.O.” She banged her cup on the table. Coffee sloshed out and she mopped it up with her napkin. “You want to get your marriage all figured out, but the truth is, you can’t. How can you hope to know what went wrong when you had a false impression of the person you married in the first place? From what you’ve said, Angela changed on you just like Danny changed on me.

  “And if you can’t get it straight, then you don’t have to move on, and that saves you from having to get it right the next time, because you never try for a next time. And all for seemingly noble reasons.” She pushed back from the table and got to her feet. “I’m on to you, Winslow, so don’t try to analyze me. I think the great paragon who can protect and serve everyone else is doing h
is best to protect himself as well.”

  That hurt, as he was sure she’d intended, and it was instinctive to want to hurt her in return. “At least I’m not lying to my child,” he shot back.

  “No,” she retorted, “you’re just lying to yourself.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. “Good luck, Cole. Just return my stuff after the holidays.”

  Kara went to the French doors to call Taylor, but the backyard was empty. Mel and the boys were in Blaine’s backyard playing in a makeshift fort. She called Taylor’s name, but the boys were laughing so hard, he didn’t hear her. Turning, she headed for the front door.

  Cole caught her arm. There’d been no satisfaction in hurting her, and he hated what had happened to their day together. “So, that’s it? You don’t want to fight it out?”

  She stood stiffly in his grasp. “What’s the point? You told me up front you have no intention of remarrying, and we disagree on how I’m raising Taylor, so there’d be little point in getting to know each other any better. It doesn’t seem anything could come of it.”

  “I think you’re doing a great job with Taylor,” he corrected, tightening his grip as she tried to pull free. “I just don’t think you should sacrifice your relationship with him to pump up your husband. He doesn’t deserve Taylor’s admiration anyway. I don’t see why you can’t make the point that it’s all right for Taylor to love his dad, even though he’s a louse.”

  “It’s trickier than that.” She rolled her eyes. “But how would you know? You’ve never had children.”

  He refused to flinch. “I didn’t mean to be intrusive,” he said, still holding her. “I just hate to see you hurt.”

  “Please don’t concern yourself with my feelings. I’m very resilient. Just let go of my arm and I’ll get out of your comfortable bachelor space.”

  “Look, I know I’ve hurt you, but we need to argue this through. You’re the one running away.”

  Suddenly, she slumped, and all the passion and temper of a moment ago vanished. That made Cole feel even worse.

  “To tell you the truth,” she said on a sigh, “I was attracted to you, but now I’m beginning to remember how much I hated having someone second-guessing me—or trying to figure out what on earth I seem to be lacking. You don’t have the heart for a relationship anyway, Cole, and that’s killed the attraction.”