“I’ll make coffee,” Richard said.
He brought her coffee in bed, along with a croissant, which she had no interest in eating.
“Try,” he urged. “It’s going to be a tough day.”
That was an understatement. The worst part of her morning was when she got the news about the cause of the fire. It appeared that one of her kitchen workers—probably Bruno—had left a burner on after the Monday lunch shift. A pot on top of the stove, which should have been put away, had eventually ignited and the fire had spread from there. The sprinkler system had failed to activate, and if not for the fire alarm system, the place would have burned to the ground. Charley couldn’t help thinking it might as well have for all that remained of it. Renovation would take months. With a heavy heart, she put in a call to the insurance company.
* * *
Midafternoon Cecily came into her sister’s office at Sweet Dreams Chocolate Company. “We need to take some vitamin C over to Charley.” Chocolate was so much better than the other vitamin C when a friend was under stress.
“I’m sure she’s buried in paperwork. The last thing she wants right now is visitors,” Samantha said.
“We’re talking about the woman who threw herself a party when her divorce was final,” Cecily argued.
“That was different. She was celebrating then. I don’t think she’s celebrating today.”
“Chocolate is good for celebration and commiseration,” Cecily said.
Samantha considered this for a moment. “You’re right.”
Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to Charley’s house with a ten-pound box of salted caramels, her favorite.
“You can still smell the smoke from the fire,” Cecily said, wrinkling her nose.
“As if it isn’t bad enough that she has to see her ruined restaurant,” Samantha said, shaking her head, “she has to smell it, too. I can’t imagine what I’d do if Sweet Dreams burned down.”
“You’d rebuild, of course, just like Charley will. But don’t even say things like that. It creeps me out.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve already had our share of misery.”
“Poor Charley, I hope this is the last misery she has to go through,” Cecily said as they walked up her front porch steps.
Samantha rang the doorbell but they didn’t hear any sounds of life from inside the house. “I told you this was a bad idea,” she said, and turned to go.
Cecily stayed put and rang the bell again. “Give them a minute. She needs this candy, and she needs her friends.”
This time they heard approaching footsteps. A moment later Richard opened the door.
“We brought something for Charley,” Samantha said, holding out the box.
He took it and nodded solemnly. “That was nice. She could use it.”
Cecily expected him to invite them in. After all, they were two of Charley’s closest friends. Instead, he said, “Thanks. I’ll see that she gets it,” and shut the door.
“I don’t like that guy,” Samantha muttered as they walked down the porch steps.
Cecily frowned and pulled up her coat collar. “I’ve got a bad feeling about him.”
“You should tell Charley.”
“I doubt she puts much stock in my hunches.”
“She should. They’re rarely wrong.”
Cecily shrugged. “Even if she did, she wouldn’t want to hear this one. Once a woman’s made up her mind about a man, it isn’t easy to steer her in another direction. When it comes to love, sometimes we have to learn the hard way.” Boy, did she know that. Experience was a thorough teacher.
“Someone should invent a spray,” Samantha said. “Like bug spray, only for losers.”
Cecily chuckled. “Bad-boy spray?”
“Something like that. I’d buy you a bottle.”
“Me?” Cecily protested.
“Yeah. Then you could shoot it at Todd Black every time he drops by the gift shop to buy chocolate for his mom. Since when is he such a good son?”
Since he’d run into Cecily at the drugstore when she’d returned to Icicle Falls to stay. She’d also encountered him at the gym. Several times. That was a bad place to run into a man you were determined not to be attracted to—T-shirts and muscles and…did sweating release pheromones? Todd Black was a bad boy, a heartbreak waiting to happen. Cecily strongly suspected he was the type of man who’d sleep with her, steal her heart and then steal away, move on to the next conquest. Everything he said was a double entendre, meant to tickle her hormones, and every encounter with him hit her zing-o-meter. It was stupid to let herself be attracted to a man who was so wrong for her. But if he suggested she stop by his seedy tavern to try out his pinball machine one more time, she was afraid she might just give in. If she could go a couple of months without seeing him, it would help, but that was next to impossible in a small town.
But if it wasn’t Todd, it would be someone else. Bad boys were her Achilles’ heel. And, darn it all, bad boys were everywhere. It doesn’t mean you need to get involved with one, she reminded herself.
That last thought led her back to Charley and Richard. Hopefully, her intuition was off for once and Charley’s bad boy had reformed.
* * *
Ella had just sent Pat Wilder out the door with a floating-petals coral top and a new bracelet when Axel Fuchs called.
“I’m bringing some people by to see the house around five-thirty,” he said, “so make sure Jake cleans.”
“I will,” she promised. She could close a little early, run home and pitch in.
“And maybe you’d like to go out with one of your friends for a while after work,” Axel added.
He probably didn’t trust her to stay out from underfoot. “Okay.”
“And get Jake to take Tiny for a walk.”
No woman, no man, no dog—make the house look like anything but a home, she thought. Why did that bug her? It already wasn’t a home even with them in it.
“These people have driven by and love the place from the outside. And they like the price,” Axel continued. “So fingers crossed that we’ll have a sale for you this time.”
“I hope so,” she said fervently. Then she could get Jake gone and move on with her life.
She called his cell. Naturally, he didn’t answer. Why did the man have a cell phone when he never bothered to use it? “We might have a sale tonight,” she told his voice mail. “Can you see that the kitchen is clean and your bedroom picked up?” She ended the call and frowned. She felt like his mother instead of his wife. Ex-wife, she quickly corrected herself.
An hour later her cell rang. “Got your message,” Jake said. “Everything’s clean.”
Hmm. Jake-clean or really clean?
“I’m running the dishes right now.”
“Can you sweep the kitchen floor?”
“Already done.”
“Check to be sure the bathrooms—”
“Did it.”
This was, indeed, surprising. “Oh. Well.”
“Anything else?” he asked shortly.
“Um, Axel wants us both gone when he shows the house.”
“When is he bringing them?”
“Around five-thirty.”
“Well, I’m not done with my last student until then,” Jake said, and his tone of voice added, And I’m not leaving one minute before.
“Fine.”
Her tone of voice must have added, Be that way, because he said, “But Tiny and I will get out of here right after.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, good,” he muttered.
Now she felt bad, like she’d somehow turned him out in the cold. Well, she was out in the cold, too. And anyway, this was for his benefit as well as hers.
She stayed late at the shop, then stopped by Charley’s house to see how she was doing. Her friend looked like a zombie, her eyes bloodshot with purple shadows beneath them. She was wearing sweats and her hair was tied up in a sloppy bun.
“Come on in,” she
said. “Richard’s out in the kitchen making dinner. Want to stay?”
“You guys probably don’t want company,” Ella hedged. She’d really meant to stop by for only a few minutes.
Charley swung the door wide. “I always want company. Anyway, how can you say no to stuffed pork loin?”
It turned out she couldn’t. Ella watched as Richard waited on her friend, refilled her wineglass. And the one time Charley grew despondent, he said, “It’s okay. We’ll go on to do something even better.”
How sweet.
“You’re right,” Charley said. “The kitchen really needed a remodel, anyway, and I’d like to make the bar bigger.” She stared at her plate. “I just hope people don’t switch loyalties while we’re rebuilding.”
“Of course they won’t,” Ella assured her. “Everyone loves Zelda’s and everyone loves you.”
That made Charley tear up. Richard patted her hand.
“You should rest, babe,” he said after they’d finished eating.
Ella got the hint and left, feeling hopeful that things would work out for her friend. And only the slightest bit jealous.
She came home to the smell of Jake’s chili. If she’d known he was going to heat that up again, she’d have hurried over and sprayed the house, or lit a scented candle. Except that leaving a candle unattended was never a good idea. Fire hazard.
She thought again of poor Charley’s restaurant. Life had a way of taking turns you never expected. It sure had for her. Who would’ve guessed she’d be divorced and sharing her dream house with her ex-husband?
She heard Jake’s voice and realized he was back home. That meant their potential buyers had come and gone. She slipped off her shoes and padded out to the kitchen, where she caught him feeding Tiny crackers.
“That’s why he’s getting fat,” she accused.
“Hey, it’s comfort food. He needs comfort.”
Comfort and joy. There was none of that this holiday season. Ella sighed. “Has Axel called? Did the people like the house?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah. He’s coming over at seven with their offer.”
“Our asking price?”
“Within five thousand.”
That was close enough as far as Ella was concerned. “Great. Let’s take it.”
“May as well,” Jake said. He turned his back on her and got busy removing his bowl of chili from the microwave.
She walked out of the kitchen and went to the living room to fidget. There wasn’t anything to do here, and she’d read her latest Martha Stewart Living from cover to cover. She went upstairs and brushed her teeth. Then she freshened her makeup. Then she was out of things to do once more. She went back downstairs, feeling like a prisoner awaiting sentencing.
What was that about? She should be doing a jig. They had an offer on the house. By the new year she’d be done with this ridiculous living arrangement. She’d be a free woman. You should be celebrating, she told herself.
Jake came into the living room and sprawled on the couch, staring into the cold fireplace. The sight of him made her feel even less like celebrating.
The doorbell rang and he gave her a stony stare. “You gonna let him in?”
Yes, she was. A moment later Axel was in the living room, brimming with satisfaction. “They want to know if you’ll include some of the furniture,” he said.
“May as well,” Jake said, still stone-faced.
“What furniture?” Ella asked.
“Your bedroom set.”
The sleigh bed. They’d shared more than heated encounters in that bed. They’d shared laughter and dreams.
Ella looked over at Jake. He was scowling at the winter darkness outside the window. “Are we cool with that?” she asked.
He shrugged. “We’re not gonna use it.”
“I guess so, then,” Ella said to Axel. Like Jake said, they weren’t going to use it.
Within a matter of minutes, the papers were signed and she was seeing Axel to the door.
“I think you got a good deal,” he said.
“Yes, we did. Thank you so much.”
“Now you can get on with your life.”
Exactly what she kept telling herself. “Yes, at last.”
“Let’s go out Friday night and celebrate. The Icicle Falls chorale is doing their winter concert at Festival Hall. Handel’s Messiah. We can have dinner before.”
Classical music wasn’t her favorite, but she certainly liked it better than jazz, and the Hallelujah Chorus seemed appropriate, considering that she’d just unloaded her house and her unwanted roommate. “Sure.” She had nothing better to do with anyone else. Her thoughts veered to Jake, scowling in the living room.
“Good. The concert’s at eight. I’ll make dinner reservations at Schwangau for six-thirty.”
Just like that, without asking her where she wanted to go. Granted, Zelda’s wasn’t an option at the moment, but what about Italian Alps or Der Spaniard?
No, not Mexican. That was where she and Jake always went.
Oh, who cared where she and Jake always went. “How about Der Spaniard?”
Axel looked momentarily surprised that some of the planning was being taken out of his hands but he recovered quickly enough. “All right, if that’s where you want to go.”
“It is.” She could eat at that restaurant with anyone and have a good time. Anyone!
With Axel out the door, she turned back toward the living room to find Jake still on the couch where she’d left him, Tiny lying at his feet.
“So, I guess you’re going out to celebrate,” he greeted her.
“Why not?” she retorted. She sat down on the opposite end of the couch, wishing she could feel more excited by this turn of events. “I mean, this is a relief. We’re rid of a house we can’t afford.” And a sleigh bed.
Jake studied her from his end of the couch, those dark eyes of his filled with sadness. “Do you ever ask yourself how we got here, El?”
Suddenly she wanted to cry. She bit her lip and shook her head.
He looked around the living room, taking in everything. “I’m gonna miss this place. We had some great times here.”
“Stop.” The words came out sharper than she intended.
“You already took away our future, El. Don’t take away my past, too.”
“Me! Oh, no. Don’t make me the bad guy here.”
“I wasn’t the one who wanted a divorce.”
“No, you had a good thing going, didn’t you?”
He made no reply to that. Instead, he left the couch and disappeared down the hall. Probably off to the kitchen for more chili. She could hear him out there, opening cupboard doors.
But a moment later he returned with something very different. She saw the Christmas mugs and knew instantly what was in them. “Oh, no. No more eggnog.”
He held out a mug. “We were happy once. Let’s drink to that. Let’s part friends. Can we do that much?”
All right. They could do that much.
She took the mug and he sat down next to her on the couch and clinked his against it. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” she repeated.
Now he was looking around the room again. “I hope the new owners enjoy this house as much as we did. Do you think they’ll put their tree in the same place?”
This resigned kindness was unnerving. Ella took a sip of her eggnog. Spiked, of course. “I don’t know.”
“I hope they don’t repaint.”
She and Jake had spent an entire weekend painting the living room. She still loved her red accent wall. “Isn’t that the color of passion?” Jake had joked, and then proceeded to demonstrate the passion it inspired in him.
She had to stop thinking about all of that. It was in the past. They were done. Through. Finished. That was how she wanted it. She started to cry.
“Aw, babe,” he said, his voice anguished.
The next thing she knew he was kissing her. And then she was kissing him. And then they were
taking one final ride in the sleigh bed.
14
Jake awoke to discover that he was alone in bed. Dang. He’d been hoping for another round with Ella. He rolled over to check the clock on the bedside table and there sat Tiny looking at him. “Where’s, Mom, boy?”
Tiny woofed, doggy encouragement for Jake to get up and find out for himself.
It was only eight-thirty. Ella wouldn’t have left for work yet. Maybe she was in the kitchen, making breakfast for them. Now there was a pleasant thought. Except if she was in the kitchen, Tiny wouldn’t be up here. He’d have been down there with her, looking hopeful.
Jake threw off the covers and went downstairs to investigate. In his boxers. There’d probably be no more complaining about that now that they were back together. They were back together, weren’t they?
The kitchen was empty, and clean, with not so much as a dish in the sink. Or a love note on the table. Maybe she’d been in a hurry. Maybe she had to do inventory at the shop. No, inventory didn’t happen until January. Maybe someone had an appointment for a private style consult. Ella often did that, and when she did, she always went to the shop early to prepare.
He picked up his cell phone from the coffee table and called her.
She said a wary hello.
Okay, the clues were adding up, making it hard to stay in denial. “Hey, babe. You left before I could kiss you awake.”
“Jake, last night was a mistake. We should never have slept together.”
Oh, not this again. “Come on, El. You can’t believe that. The only mistake we’ve made was getting divorced.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
He cut her off before she could finish. “Let’s talk this out. I’ll come by the shop and take you to Der Spaniard for dinner.” He’d cancel band practice. Or better yet, he’d take Ella with him and she could meet Jen, check out the competition she’d been so jealous of. Ha.
“I can’t. I’m going out with Mims.”
Her tone of voice guaranteed she wouldn’t break that date. And once she’d spent an evening with her mother, it would be all over. Mims strikes again. He had to convince Elle to listen to reason before the wicked witch of the Pacific Northwest brainwashed her any more. “Look,” he began.
Merry Ex-Mas Page 14
