Christmas in Cedar Cove

by Debbie Macomber

  “I can put you down for lunch, then?”

  “Yes, that would be lovely.” Her gaze fell on Paul’s letter and Ruth realized that the date her grand mother had suggested was the first week end Paul would be in town. He’d specifically asked her to keep as much of that two-week period free as she could. She wanted to spend time with him and yet she couldn’t refuse her grand mother. “Grandma, I’m looking at my calendar and—”

  “Is there a conflict?”

  “Not…exactly. I’ve sort of got a date,” she said, assuming she and Paul would be seeing each other. It would be ideal if he could join her. “It isn’t any thing official, so I—”

  “Then you do have another commitment.”

  “No…” This was get ting complicated. “Well, not exactly,” she said again.

  “I wasn’t aware that you were dating any one special. Who is he?”

  The question hung there for a moment before Ruth answered. “His name is Paul Gordon and we aren’t re ally dating.” She would’ve continued, except that her grandmother broke in.

  “Your parents didn’t say any thing about this.” The words were spoken as if there must be something un toward about Paul that Ruth didn’t want to divulge.

  “No, Mom and Dad wouldn’t,” Ruth said, not adding that she hadn’t actually mentioned Paul to her parents. She’d decided it wasn’t necessary to en lighten them about this correspondence yet. Explaining her feelings about Paul to her family would be difficult when everyone knew her political views. More importantly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about him and wouldn’t be until they’d met.

  So far, they were only pen pals, but this was the man she dreamed about every night, the man who dominated her thoughts each and every day.

  “Grandma, I haven’t said any thing to Mom and Dad be cause I haven’t officially met Paul yet.”

  “Is this…” Her grand mother hesitated. “Is this one of those…those internet relationships?” She spit out the word as though meeting a man via the internet was either illegal or un seemly—most likely both.

  “No, Grandma, it’s nothing like that.”

  “Then why don’t your parents know about him?”

  “Well, be cause…be cause he’s a soldier in Afghanistan.” There—it was out.

  Her announcement was greeted by silence. “There’s something wrong with that?” she eventually asked.

  “No…”

  “You say it like you’re ashamed.”

  “I’m not ashamed,” Ruth insisted. “I like Paul a great deal and I’m proud of his service to our country.” She down played her political beliefs as she expanded on her feelings. “I enjoy his letters and like him more than I probably should, but I don’t like the fact that he’s a soldier.”

  “You sound con fused.”

  Ruth sighed. That was certainly an ac cu rate description of how she felt.

  “So this Paul will be in Seattle on leave?”

  “Yes. For two weeks.”

  “He’s coming here to meet you?”

  “His family also lives in the area.”

  “Invite him along for lunch,” her grand mother said. “I want to meet him, too.”

  “You do?” Ruth’s enthusiasm swelled. “That’s great. I thought of it, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having him join us.”

  “I meant what I said. I want to meet him.”

  “We’ve only been writing for a few months. I don’t know him well, and…” She let the rest fade.

  “It’ll be fine, Ruth,” her grand mother assured her. Helen al ways seemed to understand what Ruth was feeling. She’d found ways to encourage the special bond between them.

  “Grandpa was a soldier when you first met him, wasn’t he?” Ruth remembered her father telling her this years ago, al though he’d also said his mother didn’t like to talk about those years. Ruth assumed that was be cause of Grandpa Sam’s bad memories of the war, the awful things he’d seen and experienced in Europe. She knew her grandparents had met during the Second World War, fallen in love and married soon afterward. Ruth’s father had been born in the baby boom years that followed, and her uncle Jake had arrived two years later. Ruth was Helen’s only grand daughter, but she had three grand sons.

  “Oh, yes.” She sighed wistfully. “My Sam was so handsome, especially in his uniform.” Her voice softened perceptibly.

  “How long did you know him before you were married?”

  Her grand mother laughed. “Less than a year. In wartime everything’s very in tense. People married quickly be cause you never knew if you’d still be alive tomorrow. It was as if those of us who were young had to cram as much life into as short a time as possible.”

  “The war was terrible, wasn’t it?”

  Helen sighed before whispering, “All war is terrible.”

  “I agree,” Ruth said promptly.

  “So you and this soldier you’ve never met are discussing marriage?” her grandmother asked after a moment.

  “No!” Ruth nearly choked get ting out her denial. “Paul and me? No, of course not. I promise you the subject has never even come up.” They hadn’t writ ten about kissing or touching or exchanged the conventional romantic endearments. That didn’t mean she hadn’t dreamed about what it would be like to be held by Paul Gordon. To kiss him and be caressed by him. She’d let her imagination roam free….

  “So you say,” her grand mother said with amusement in her voice. “By all means, bring your friend. I’ll look for ward to meeting him.”

  That was no doubt true, Ruth thought, but no one looked for ward to meeting Paul Gordon more than she did.

  Three

  “How do I look?” Ruth asked her room mate. She hated to sound so in se cure, but this was per haps the most important meeting of her life and Ruth was determined to make a perfect impression.

  “Fabulous,” Lynn said, her face hid den be hind the latest issue of People magazine.

  “I might believe you if you actually looked at me.” Ruth held on to her patience with limited success. The relationship with her room mate had gone steadily downhill since the confrontation on the porch steps two weeks earlier. Apparently Clay wasn’t interested in dating Lynn. What Ruth did know was that Clay hadn’t contacted either of them since, and her room mate had been increasingly cold and standoffish. Ruth had tried to talk to her but that hadn’t done any good. She suspected that Lynn wanted to be upset, so Ruth had decided to go about her own business and ignore her room mate’s disgruntled mood. This might not be the best strategy, but it was the only way she could deal with Lynn’s attitude.

  Her room mate heaved a sigh; apparently lifting her head a couple of inches required immense effort. Her eyes were de void of emotion as she gave Ruth a token appraisal. “You look all right, I guess.”

  These days, that was high praise coming from Lynn. Ruth had spent an hour doing her hair, with the help of a curling iron and two brushes. And now it was raining like crazy. This wasn’t the drizzle traditionally associated with the Pacific North west, either. This was rain. Real rain. Which spelled disaster for her hair, since her umbrella wouldn’t afford much protection.

  If her hair had taken a long time, choosing what to wear had demanded equal consideration. She had a pretty teal-and-white summer dress from last year that made her eyes look soft and dreamy, but the rain had altered that plan. Now she was wearing black pants and a white cash mere sweater with a beige over coat.

  “You’re meeting at Ivar’s, right?”

  “Right.” Ruth didn’t remember telling her room mate. They were barely on speaking terms.

  “Too bad.”

  “Too bad what?”

  Lynn sighed once more and set aside the magazine. “If you must know, soldier boy phoned and said you should meet him out side the restaurant.” She grinned nastily. “And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s pouring out.”

  “I’m supposed to meet him out side?”

  “That’s what he said.”

&
nbsp; Ruth made an effort not to snap at her. “You didn’t think to mention this before?”

  Lynn shrugged. “It slipped my mind.”

  Ruth just bet it did. Rather than start an argument, she collected her rain coat, umbrella and purse. Surely she would receive a heavenly reward for controlling her tem per. Lynn would love an argument but Ruth wasn’t going to give her one; she wasn’t going to play childish games with her room mate. The difference in their ages had never seemed more pronounced than it had in the past two weeks.

  Be cause of the rain, Ruth couldn’t find convenient street parking and was forced to pay an outrageous amount at a lot near the restaurant. She rushed to ward Ivar’s, making sure she arrived in plenty of time. Lynn’s sour disposition might have upset Ruth if not for the fact that she was finally going to meet the soldier who’d come to mean so much to her.

  Focusing on her hair, dress and makeup meant she’d paid al most no attention to something that was far more important—what she’d actually say when she saw Paul for the first time. Ideas skittered through her mind as she crossed the street.

  Ruth hoped to sound witty, articulate and well informed. She so badly wanted to impress Paul and was afraid she’d stumble over her words or find her self speechless. Her other fear was that she’d take one look at him and burst into tears. It could hap pen; she felt very emotional about meeting this man she’d known only through letters and emails.

  Thank fully, by the time she reached Ivar’s, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. But it was still wet out and miserably gray. Her curls, which had been perfectly styled, had turned into tight wads of frizz in the humid air. She was sure she resembled a cartoon character more than the fashion model she’d strived for earlier that afternoon.

  After the longest ten-minute wait of her life, Ruth checked her watch and saw that it was now one minute past six. Paul was late. She pulled her cell phone from her bag; unfortunately Paul didn’t answer his cell, so she punched out her home number. Per haps he’d been delayed in traffic and had called the house, hoping to connect with her.

  No answer. Either Lynn had left or purposely chosen not to pick up the receiver. Great, just great.

  To her dismay, as she went to toss her cell phone back in side her purse, she realized the battery was low. Why hadn’t she charged it? Oh, no, that would’ve been much too smart.

  All at once Ruth figured it out. Paul wasn’t late at all. Some how she’d missed him, which wouldn’t be that difficult with all the tourist traffic on the waterfront. Even in the rain, people milled around the area as if they were on the sunny beaches of Hawaii. Some one needed to explain to these tourists that the water drip ping down from the sky was cold rain. Just be cause they’d dressed for sun shine didn’t mean the weather would cooperate.

  Despite her umbrella, her hair now hung in tight ringlets all around her head. Either of two things had happened, she speculated. Perhaps her appearance was so drastically changed from the glam our photo she’d sent him that Paul hadn’t recognized her and assumed she’d stood him up. The other possibility was even less appealing. Paul had got ten a glimpse of her and decided to escape with out saying a word.

  For a moment Ruth felt like crying. Rather than waste the last of her cell phone battery phoning her room mate again, she stepped in side the restaurant to see if Paul had left a message for her.

  She opened the door and lowered her umbrella. As she did, she saw a tall, lean and very hand some Paul Gordon get up from a chair in the restaurant foyer.

  “Ruth?”

  “Paul?” With out a thought, she dropped the umbrella and moved directly into his embrace.

  Then they were in each other’s arms, hugging fiercely.

  When it be came obvious that everyone in the crowded foyer was staring at them, Paul finally released her.

  “I was out side—didn’t you tell Lynn that’s where we were meeting?”

  “No.” He brushed the wet curls from her fore head and smiled down at her. “I said in side be cause I heard on the weather fore cast that it was going to rain. And—” he rolled his eyes “—I forgot my cell phone. I’m not used to carrying one around.”

  “Of course you said inside.” Ruth wanted to kick herself for being so dense. She should’ve guessed what Lynn was up to; in stead, she’d fallen right into her room mate’s petty hands. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

  A number of people were still watching them but Ruth didn’t care. She couldn’t stop looking at Paul. He seemed un able to break eye contact with her, too.

  The hostess came for ward. “Since your party’s arrived,” she said with a smile, “I can seat you now.”

  “Yes, please.” Paul helped Ruth off with her coat and set the umbrella beside several others so it could dry. Then, as if they’d known and loved each other all their lives, he reached for her hand and linked her fingers with his as they walked through the restaurant.

  The hostess seated them by the window, which overlooked the dark, murky waters of Puget Sound. Rain ran in rivulets down the tempered glass, but as far as Ruth was concerned it could have been the brightest, sunniest day in Seattle’s history.

  Paul continued to hold her hand on top of the table.

  “I was worried about what I’d say once we met,” she said. “Then when we did, I just felt so glad, the words didn’t seem important.”

  “I’d al most convinced my self you’d stood me up.” He yawned, covering his mouth with the other hand, and she realized he was probably functioning on next to no sleep.

  “Stood you up? I would’ve found a way to get here no matter what.” She let the truth of that show in her eyes. She had the strongest feeling of certainty, and an involuntary sense that he was everything she’d dreamed.

  He briefly looked away. “I would’ve found a way to get to you, too.” His fingers tightened around hers.

  “When did you last sleep?” she asked.

  His mouth curved up ward in a half smile. “I for get. A long time ago. Maybe I should’ve suggested we meet tomorrow instead, but I didn’t want to wait a minute longer than I had to.”

  “Me, neither,” she confessed.

  He smiled again, that wonderful, intoxicating smile.

  “When did you land?” she asked, be cause if she didn’t stop staring at him she was going to embarrass her self.

  “Late this morning,” he told her. “My family—well, you know what families are like. Mom’s been cooking for days and there was a big family get-together this after noon. I wanted to invite you but—”

  “No, I understand. You couldn’t be cause—well, how could you?” That didn’t come out right, but Paul seemed to know what she was trying to say.

  “You’re exactly like I pictured you,” he said, leaning forward to touch her cheek.

  “You imagined me drenched?”

  He chuckled. “I imagined you beautiful, and you are.”

  His words made her blush. “I’m having a hard time believing you’re actually here,” she said.

  “I am, too.”

  The waitress came for their drink order. Ruth hadn’t even looked at her menu or thought about what she’d like to drink. Be cause she was wet and chilled, she ordered hot tea and Paul asked for a bottle of champagne.

  “We have reason to celebrate,” he announced. Then, as if it had suddenly occurred to him, he said, “You do drink alcohol, don’t you?”

  She nodded quickly. “Normally I would’ve asked for wine, but I wanted the tea so I could warm up. I haven’t decided what to order yet.” She picked up the menu and scanned the entrées.

  The waitress brought the champagne and standing ice bucket to the table. “Is there something special you’re celebrating?” she asked in a friendly voice.

  Paul nodded and his eyes met Ruth’s. “We’re celebrating the fact that we found each other,” he said.

  “Excellent.” She re moved the foil top and wire around the cork and opened the bottle with a slight pop ping sound. After filling
the two champagne flutes, she left.

  Ruth took her glass. “Once again, I’m so sorry about what happened. Let me pay for the champagne, please. You wouldn’t have had a problem finding me if I’d—”

  “I wasn’t talking about this evening,” he broke in. “I was talking about your Christmas card.”

  “Oh.”

  Paul raised his glass; she raised hers, too, and they clicked the rims gently together. “Do you believe in fate?” he asked.

  Ruth smiled. “I didn’t, but I’ve had a change of heart since Christmas.”

  His smile widened. “Me, too.”

  Dinner was marvelous. Ruth didn’t remember what she’d ordered or any thing else about the actual meal. For all she knew, she could’ve been dining on raw sea weed. It hardly mattered.

  They talked and talked, and she felt as if she’d known Paul her en tire life. He asked detailed questions about her family, her studies, her plans after graduation, and seemed genuinely interested in everything she said. He talked about the marines and Afghanistan with a sense of pride at the positive differences he’d seen in the country. After dinner and dessert, they lingered over coffee and at nine-thirty Paul paid the tab and suggested they walk along the waterfront. She eagerly agreed. Her umbrella was now merely an encumbrance because the rain had stopped, so they brought it back to her car before they set off.

  The clouds had drifted away and the moon was glowing, its light splashing against the pier as they strolled hand in hand. Al though she knew Paul had to be exhausted from his long flight and the family gathering, she couldn’t deny her self these last few minutes.

  “You asked me to keep the week ends free,” Ruth murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

  “Did you?”

  She sighed. “Not tomorrow.”

  “Do you have a date with some other guy?”

  She leaned back in order to study his face, trying to discern whether he was serious. “You’re joking, right?” she said hesitantly.