by Webb, Peggy
“I realize that. She’s not an invalid, you know. She’s perfectly healthy and amazingly spry for her age.”
“My arthritis is killing me,” Lily interjected. “And my feet are cold. Tell James how cold my feet get in this drafty house.”
“That doesn’t excuse what you did, Holly,” James was saying. “She was worried sick about you. She was going to call the police. Fortunately, she called me first. I don’t know what she would have done if I hadn’t been here.”
Why aren’t you here now? She’s your grandmother too.
Holly wanted to scream. Her head was beginning to ache. Rubbing her forehead, she sank onto a blue chintz ottoman.
She had never said anything like that to her brother, and she wouldn’t today, not with Lily in the same room. Holly loved her grandmother too much to say anything that would make her feel unwanted. She didn’t resent being the one to take care of Lily, though sometimes she wished she had the freedom to come and go as she pleased without having to worry that her grandmother might get cold or get sick or panic.
After the holidays she might drive up to Memphis and have a talk with James. Perhaps he and Gwen could let Lily stay with them for a few weeks. Even a few days would be a blessing.
“What if something had happened to her, Holly?” James was saying.
“It didn’t, James. She’s okay.”
“No thanks to you. I swear, Holly, sometimes I don’t know what’s going to become of you.”
“What do you mean by that? I’m healthy and happy. I have lots of great friends, and I make my own living. Just because I don’t perform to your standards doesn’t mean that I’m a failure.”
“I didn’t say you were, Holly, but you have to admit that you’ve made some pretty bad choices.”
Holly didn’t want to talk about her past. It was over and done with. She had no intention of wallowing in guilt and self-pity just because she’d learned her lessons the hard way.
“It’s Christmas, James... Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you, Holly.”
“Are you and Gwen and the kids coming down today? I’d like to see you, and I know Lily would love it.”
“Can’t make it. Gwen’s parents are coming over for lunch.”
“How about this afternoon? You could drive down and be back before night. Or Lily and I could drive up.”
“That’s not a good idea, Holly. Gwen and I promised the children we’d take them to a movie this afternoon. A family outing, you know. We don’t get to have those very often.”
Though he was only an hour and a half away, they hadn’t seen James for the last five years at Christmastime. It was perfectly obvious that they weren’t going to see him this year either. But Holly persisted anyway. She might have told herself that she was doing it because of Lily, if she hadn’t known better. Sure, her motives were partly noble, but his remark about her bad choices still stung. Holly was not a plaster saint: She was out for revenge.
“How about tomorrow?” she said. “The tree will still be up, and we can postpone unwrapping the gifts until then.”
“I have to be back at work.”
“The day after Christmas?”
“How do you think I got where I am today, Holly? A firm the size of mine doesn’t run itself, you know.”
“Yes, I know. Are Kenneth and Michelle up? I’d like to tell them Merry Christmas, and I’m sure Grandma would love to speak to them.”
“They’ve been up since the crack of dawn. Couldn’t wait to see whether Santa brought all the loot they’d ordered. Let me see if I can round them up.”
His footsteps echoed on the polished parquet floor, and then there was an echoing silence as James went downstairs to fetch his children.
“Hi, Aunt Holly.” It was Kenneth’s excited voice. “Guess what Santa brought me.”
“A quarter for your front tooth?”
“Aunt Holly... that’s the tooth fairy.”
Kenneth launched into a long narrative about his gifts then his sister came on the line. After both Holly and Lily had talked to the children, Lily cast aside her afghan and went into the kitchen to make coffee.
“I can do that,” Holly said.
“No, you have to cook the turkey and make the dressing. Not too much sage. James doesn’t like sage.”
“I thought I would do something different this year, Lily. Maybe pork loin and a nice green salad.”
“But that won’t be enough. Growing children need plenty of food.” Her hands shook as she measured coffee into the filter.
“Lily...” Holly took the measuring spoon and finished the job. “James and his family won’t be here today, but Jo Ann and Michael Snipes are coming over. You’ll enjoy the children.”
“Poor James, always so busy. We’ll have to make some of that good fudge and send him a big box. Do we have any pecans?”
“Yes, we have pecans.”
“Good. James likes lots of pecans.”
“Lily, did you hear me say that the Snipes family is coming?”
“I heard. I’m not deaf, you know.”
Lily rummaged in the cabinets until she found the pecans. She stood uncertainly, holding on to the bag, her lips trembling. From under his cage cover Popeye called out for help. Lily put the pecans back in the cabinet and shut the door.
“Let’s forget about that candy,” she said. “Do we have any fresh lemons?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I thought I’d make a lemon icebox pie.”
It was Holly’s favorite dessert. When she was growing up, Lily had made her a lemon icebox pie to celebrate every important occasion—Holly’s birthday, the first “A” she made in school, the day she won the spelling bee.
As she scooped Lily into a hug and held her close, the scent of baby powder tickled Holly’s nose. Every morning when Lily dressed, she turned her clothes wrong side out, laid them on the bed, and dusted them with baby powder.
Until today Holly hadn’t realized how closely she associated that scent with her grandmother.
“Thank you, Grandma,” she said.
“Hmmph. No need to thank me yet. You haven’t tasted it.”
Still, she could tell her grandmother was pleased.
o0o
The Snipeses arrived in time to help set the table. There was much cause for celebration at that Christmas Day meal, for Michael had a job as night watchman at the local tire plant. Not only that but he had found a small country house on a five-acre lot.
“We can have animals again,” Timmy said.
After lunch the children and Michael visited with Lily while Jo Ann and Holly cleared the table.
“I’m going back to school, Holly. I thought I’d start small, maybe take only one course the spring semester till I get used to it.” She laughed. “I can tell the children exactly how they ought to study, but I’m not sure I know how myself.”
“You’ll get the hang of it. I’m so proud of you, Jo Ann. Nobody deserves happiness more than you.”
Jo Ann started to say something then busied herself with the dishes.
“What?” Holly asked.
“It’s just... oh, nothing.”
“Jo Ann, come on. You know I can’t stand that kind of suspense.”
“This is probably something that you already know.”
“What?”
“I found out who our anonymous benefactor is—Ben Sullivan.”
“Ben?” Holly almost dropped the plate she was holding. “Are you sure?”
“You didn’t know? He hasn’t told you?”
“No, Ben has never mentioned it. As terrible as I’ve been to him about taking your farm, wouldn’t you think he would tell me? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I’m sorry. I never should have mentioned it.”
“No, I’m glad you did. It just goes to show...”
Holly didn’t know what it showed about the man. Did it mean that Ben kept secrets? Perhaps he knew she would find out, and it meant that he was trying to get on her good si
de.
But why? He’d already won her over.
Maybe it meant that he was like James. Maybe Ben thought she didn’t have enough intelligence to understand the significance of anything involving business.
Jo Ann put her hand on Holly’s arm. “Please don’t let this change whatever is going on between the two of you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of spoiling things for vou.”
“Are you absolutely positive it was Ben?”
“When I went to pick up the check, the regular girl was out sick and somebody else was filling in. She let it slip.”
“How?”
“She asked if Mr. Sullivan was family or just a friend. I told her just a friend.”
Just a friend. And a very wealthy friend at that. Holly was struck by a terrible thought. What if Ben had kept the secret from her because he thought she was a gold digger?
It made perfect sense. Ben had never said he loved her, let alone that he wanted to marry her. All he had said was that he wanted her.
She was merely his playmate. It didn’t matter if playmates were gold diggers—as long as they were willing to play.
Could she settle for that?
Chapter 19
Holly’s Christmas gift was still in the desk drawer where Ben had left it. He opened the drawer for the tenth time and looked at it. He had intended to give it to her the previous night when she was there, but first they had made ornaments and they had decorated the tree and then they had settled in beside the fire and nothing else had mattered.
He had gotten sidetracked. That was all.
So, what was holding him back today? He didn’t like to think about it.
He closed the desk drawer and picked up the telephone. Hines answered on the first ring.
“Were you sitting beside the telephone waiting for my call?” Ben said.
The idea pleased him. As far as he knew, Hines was the only one who ever did that.
“It is Christmas Day, sir.”
“So it is. How’s the family?”
“Noisy.”
“You miss me, do you?”
“That might be stretching it a bit, sir, but I do miss the peace and quiet of the farm. I think I’m turning into a recluse.”
“Then it would suit you to have the farm all to yourself for a while?”
“Have the farm to myself? Have you made some plans that I should know about?”
“I thought I might head up to D.C. and help Senator Glenn out with his farm bill.”
“You’re moving back?”
“No. I’ve come to enjoy the simple lifestyle too much to chuck it and get back into that rat race. I thought it might be good to keep my hand on the political pulse.”
“Good idea, sir. No need to let your power base slip. You worked too hard for it. How long will you be gone?”
“About a month, total. Two weeks in D.C., then a couple in Hawaii.”
“Hawaii? Did I hear you right?”
“You heard me. Hines, did you know that whales migrate thousands of miles just to mate there?”
“Remarkable.”
“I think so too. Merry Christmas, Hines.”
“Same to you, sir.”
As soon as Ben hung up, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out Holly’s gift. There would be no waffling this time. Before he could change his mind, he rushed to the hall closet and grabbed his blue jacket. Ramming her gift into his pocket, he hurried out the door.
Halfway to Holly’s house he almost turned around and went back to the farm. She might be having a late lunch. Or an early dinner. She would have family there. Or she might be on the way to see her brother in Memphis.
Maybe she was taking a nap. After all, they had stayed up until the wee hours that morning.
The thought brought a smile to his lips. He patted his jacket pocket. He was absolutely going to give her the gift today.
o0o
The Snipeses were gone, Lily was napping, and a lemon icebox pie was sitting on the top shelf of the refrigerator. Holly cut a piece, kicked off her shoes, and settled into an easy chair. Maybe she didn’t need it, but it was Christmas and she was tired and out of sorts. She deserved a small treat, and she was going to enjoy every morsel of it. After all, it was her pie.
Lily had not lost her touch. The pie was delicious down to the very last crumb. But somehow it had lost its magic. When she was a child, the mere sight of that paper-thin crust and that tall meringue was enough to make her feel good. Now it did nothing except make her feel stuffed.
Besides that, she was still cranky. She would blame it on the season if she didn’t know better.
In her stockinged feet she padded to the kitchen, found a place for her plate in the crowded dishwasher, then turned it on. It was old and sounded like a freight train. She barely heard the doorbell over the racket.
“Coming,” she said, hoping it wouldn’t ring again and wake Lily.
Ben Sullivan was on her doorstep with the collar of his blue jacket turned up. She wanted to eat him up. Then she wanted to cry. Maybe her period was coming on and her hormones were raging.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said.
Not in ways she wanted to talk about.
“You aren’t,” she said.
“I probably should have called first.”
“That’s all right. I’m having a quiet afternoon by myself.”
“You’re home alone?”
“Not alone. Lily’s napping.”
A door slammed across the street, and Holly could see her neighbor standing in her doorway gawking. By night everybody in the neighborhood would know Ben had come calling.
Holly figured she should have been absolutely delighted, but she wasn’t. She was confused and slightly miffed, as if he had delivered a dozen long stemmed red roses, then told her he’d made a mistake, that they were for someone in the house down the street.
“Did you have a good Christmas, Holly?”
He was so sincere and sweet that she almost forgave him, though what she had to forgive was mostly a mystery to her. Usually being female was an absolute pleasure, but sometimes being a woman with all those raging hormones was hard.
Sighing, Holly held open the door. “Forgive my lack of manners. Won’t you come in?”
He sat on the sofa, leaving space for her to sit beside him, but she chose a chair across the room from him. Still, the distance didn’t help her distinguish between fantasy and reality. It did nothing to diminish her foolish, impossible dreams.
“Would you—”
“Have you—”
They both spoke at the same time, then looked at each other with such longing that it was impossible not to tell what they wanted: He wanted her, and she wanted him.
But to what degree and for how long? Those were the questions that haunted Holly.
“Ladies first,” Ben said.
“Would you like some lemon icebox pie? My grandmother made it.”
“It’s tempting, but no thanks. I have packing to do and a plane to catch.”
“You’re leaving?”
Of course, he was. Every man she had ever cared about had left. Why should Ben Sullivan be any different?
“Yes.” He pulled a plane ticket from his pocket. “And so are you, I hope.”
She looked down at the ticket he handed her. Holly Jones it said. Destination, Hawaii.
“Merry Christmas, Holly.”
“You bought this ticket for me?”
“Yes. I leave for D.C. early in the morning. In two weeks we’ll meet in Atlanta and fly together from there.”
“To Hawaii?”
“Didn’t you say it was paradise? Didn’t you tell me whales mated there?”
Not one word did he say about love or commitment. Not a single word did he utter about hope and plans for a future. Well, of course, whales mated there, but didn’t they mate for life? Holly wasn’t sure about that, but it seemed that the male whale was the kind of mam
mal who picked out one special female and hooked up with her for the rest of their days. And she would bet that not once did a male whale ever take his female counterpart for granted.
“I’m no whale,” she said with asperity.
“I see,” he said, but he didn’t look as if he did. He looked puzzled.
Well, good for her. Good for him.
“You may think I’m the kind of woman who can be bought, just like you bought the Snipeses—”
“The Snipeses!” Ben was out of his seat, looking ready to explode. “How do you know about that?”
“Sunday Cove is a small town. It’s impossible to keep a secret here.”
He held her captive with his fierce regard. Holly began to waver. What if she was wrong about his motives? But wouldn’t he say something to set her straight? Why didn’t Ben say something?
“And you think I’m trying to buy you?” His voice was soft and deadly.
Suddenly Holly didn’t know what to think. Reason was impossible with his eyes burning a hole in her.
“Keep the ticket, Holly. You’ve earned it.”
He left so fast, she didn’t have time to return the ticket to him.
“Wait,” she said, but all the only response she got was the revving of the powerful Corvette’s engine.
It was too late to call him back.
Chapter 20
It was the first evening in the nearly two weeks since he had come to D.C. that Ben spent at home. His house in Georgetown was spacious, charming, and beautifully decorated. Some of his favorite antiques were there—the dining table and chairs he had found in a shop in Boston, an armoire he got in London, a roll top desk from a little place off the coast of Maine.
His quiet house with its fine old furniture used to lift his spirits after a day of wheeling and dealing on Capitol Hill. But the magic was gone. Nothing had caught his interest since Holly. Nothing had lifted his spirits since Holly.
He put a frozen pot pie in the oven. It would be dinner. Though he had no appetite, he knew better than to go without food. Food was necessary for existence. A perfect word for his life. Existence. No spontaneous moments, no laughter, no passion, no unexpected encounters with a red-haired angel. Just getting from one day to the next.
That’s what he had been doing ever since he left Mississippi. It was no way to live. Ben picked up the phone and called Hines.
