Lights, Latkes, and Love

by Peggy Bird

  “I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in getting things out for the kids I wasn’t paying attention.”

  She smiled. “Don’t apologize. I’m early, and you were obviously having fun.”

  “This is one of our favorite days this time of year. The kids can’t wait to get here after school to get the tree set up and the Kwanzaa and Hanukkah displays organized.”

  “No Ramadan display?” she said with a grin. “No winter solstice?”

  “Ramadan was early this year. We’ve already done our display about that. And eventually one of the bulletin boards will have a display explaining the movement of celestial bodies and how that makes the seasons change. We’ve found that to be more acceptable to a lot of parents than an explanation of Wiccan solstice rituals.” He tugged at her hand. “Come meet some of the staff. And you’re welcome to help, if you’d like. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to finish up here before we go to dinner.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll watch. I’m not much of a decorator.”

  “Neither am I. Actually, I’m only useful because I can reach higher on the tree than the kids can. But I get such a kick out of it I can’t stay away.”

  After being introduced to his staff, she found a seat at one of the only tables not directly involved in the decorating. At first, what was going on looked like chaos. There must have been two or three dozen kids, maybe more—it was hard to count them when they were moving around so much—unpacking boxes, hanging ornaments, setting up displays, and pinning things on the bulletin boards. But after watching for a few minutes, she realized that although the kids seemed to have free rein to set things up the way they wanted them, every activity had adults overseeing it. David and two others were working on the Christmas tree, two staff members were setting up the Kwanzaa table, and two more were at the Hanukkah table. And as each of the displays was set up, the adults in charge kept up a running commentary on the origins and meaning of the different holiday items.

  In what seemed like no time at all, the chaos resulted in two table displays and one tree completely decorated with great care and attention—if not with designer style. Hannah had to admit it was fun to watch.

  David seemed to give a few last-minute suggestions to his staff before coming over to her again. “I’m about finished. Five more minutes and ... ”

  A little girl with a blonde ponytail interrupted by tugging at his hand. “David,” she said, “I finished my Santa letter.” She handed him a folded piece of paper. “But I’m worried.”

  He knelt down so he was on her level. “What are you worried about, kiddo?”

  “How’s Santa going to know where I am? Maybe he won’t be able to find me because we had to move.”

  “Santa always knows where kids are. It’s one of the things he does best.”

  She obviously wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She sighed. “Okay. I guess you know.”

  He stood up and pointed at a table in the back. “Hey, I think the cookies and milk have arrived. Why don’t you grab some before they’re all gone?”

  The little girl smiled and ran to where the snacks were being dispensed to the kid decorators.

  “What’s her story?” Hannah asked. “Why is she here?”

  “Let’s just say her mother left a really bad situation so she and her kids could have a violence-free future.”

  Hannah shuddered at the idea that anyone would hurt that adorable little girl. “She’s, what, five? Six?”

  “Almost six, and her brother’s four. We’re trying to find a permanent safe place for them but probably won’t be able to before the end of the year, so they’ll be in the shelter ’til then.”

  On an impulse, Hannah walked over to where the little girl was eating her cookie and sat down in a chair next to her. “Hi, my name’s Hannah, and I’m one of Santa’s helpers this year. I promise you,” with her forefinger she made an X across her chest, “cross my heart, that Santa will get your letter. And I’ll tell him where you are so your presents won’t get lost.”

  “Is your name really Hannah? My name’s Hannah, too.” The little girl’s grin was so big it almost cracked her face. It definitely broke the adult Hannah’s heart.

  “Well then, Hannah, too, that makes it even more important I make sure Santa knows where you are. Us Hannahs have to look out for each other.”

  The little Hannah threw her arms around the older Hannah’s neck. “Thank you so much, Hannah One.”

  “Hannah One?”

  “If I’m Hannah, too, you’re Hannah One, aren’t you?”

  “I guess I am.” Hannah One laughed at the impish look on the little girl’s face.

  “When you tell him where I am, can you tell him about my brother, too?”

  “Of course. What’s your brother’s name?”

  “George.”

  Grown-up Hannah made a great show of taking a piece of paper and a pen out of her purse and writing down the information. “There. I have it all. Santa will be sure to get your gifts to the right place.”

  As she walked back across the room, she saw the soft look in David’s eyes. “Don’t go thinking this is making me a convert to Christmas,” she said quietly when she was close enough for him to hear.

  “I’d never think anything like that about a hardnosed Scrooge like you.” But his smile betrayed his words. “I’ll add Hannah’s letter to the ones I have in the office for you, and you can—”

  She grabbed the letter. “Nope. Don’t get it mixed in with the others. She’s mine. And I want her brother’s, too.”

  From the expression on his face, David was thinking about saying something else to her, something gloat-y, she thought. But he didn’t. He merely put his hand at the small of her back, and pointed her toward his office. “Let’s go get the rest of those letters and get out of here. I’m starving. If we don’t get dinner soon, I’m going to steal the cookies from the kids, and that wouldn’t look good on my next performance evaluation from my board.”

  • • •

  It couldn’t have gone any better if he’d orchestrated it. David had hoped seeing the kids so excited about the holidays would open Hannah’s eyes a bit to the real meaning of the season. What he hadn’t foreseen was the arrival of a six-year-old heartbreaker who shared Hannah’s name. This was date one, and a little blonde cutie had achieved exactly what he’d wanted for this stage of the plan. Hannah Jenkins was now invested in making Christmas merry for a couple of kids. Now he could focus at dinner on getting to know her for personal reasons, not because of the bet he’d made.

  Because Mandy had told him Hannah liked Thai food, he headed for Pok Pok, the best Thai restaurant in town. After they’d ordered, they settled into a Dating 101 conversation, exchanging information about families, colleges, work experience. They branched out into books and movies they liked, music that spoke to them, discovering considerable overlap.

  But the most interesting part of the conversation followed after Hannah asked if he had plans for the future other than managing SafePlace.

  “I’ve never given much thought to doing anything else,” he said. “I’m happy where I am and have plans for expanding the program. There’s need in the suburbs I’d like to see about meeting. You can’t imagine how many women and children are at risk outside the city.” He was sure his expression wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, thanks to the images of what he’d seen in the shelter that popped into his head.

  She grasped his hand. The little jolt of attraction he felt from the contact brought him back to where he was and who he was with. He shook his head and shrugged off the mood. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound so serious.” He squeezed her hand. “What about you? What’s your secret plan for the future?”

  “It’s going to sound shallow and vain after what you just said.”

  “The drive to do something you love is never shallow or vain. Tell me.”

  “Well, as frivolous as it sounds, I want to design clothes for yo
ung women starting their careers. The kind they can buy without a lot of money, but still look professional and smart. Actually, I already design clothes. And make them. But only for myself and my friends. Someday, maybe, I’d like to do it for a clothing company.”

  “Creativity isn’t frivolous. And it sounds like you’ve found a niche worth filling. Have you tried contacting the clothing companies around here with some of your designs?”

  “Columbia Sportswear and Nike aren’t exactly my style.”

  He looked at the form-fitting rose-colored jacket she wore with black fabric roses on one shoulder. “Even I can see that. So what are you doing to find a company that is your style?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing at the moment. I just do it for fun. Maybe one of these years I’ll think about doing it for real.”

  The arrival of their main courses stopped the conversation about her dreams, but David tucked the information away, sure he would find it useful eventually.

  • • •

  As far as Hannah was concerned, the evening couldn’t have been much better. Her favorite food at the city’s best Thai restaurant, a hot guy across the table from her, and some of the most interesting conversation she’d had with anyone, male or female, in ages. David Shay was funny, smart, and obviously invested in what he did. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes when he talked about his clients. And he hadn’t made fun of her for wanting to design clothes. He seemed to understand how much it meant to her.

  But now the question of the evening was about to arise. Would he kiss her? She realized she wanted him to—and was even willing to make the move herself she was so drawn to him. The spark of attraction he’d lit had been obvious to her from the day he walked into her office, and it hadn’t cooled in the two times she’d seen him since, no matter how much she told herself not to get involved with him. And then there was the way he looked tonight when he talked about the clients his program served. Surely someone who cared so much about other people wouldn’t be ... couldn’t be ... a jerk like the dipshit. Would he?

  He followed her directions to head south, to her house in Sellwood. After he pulled his CRV up to the curb and cut the engine, he said, “Your house is cute.”

  “Thanks, but it’s not mine. It belongs to my housemate. I rent from her.” She hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’d invite you in to meet her, but I didn’t give her any warning about bringing someone home with me. And given how she dresses down when she gets home, I’d embarrass her by springing you on her unannounced.”

  “Maybe the next time.” He unclipped his seatbelt and slid closer to her. “And there will be a next time, won’t there?”

  “Of course there will be. This was only your first opportunity to show me where I’ve erred in my thinking about Christmas. We have to get through two more before I win the bet.”

  “Get through? Is that how you look at going out with me?”

  She could feel the blush rising on her face. If she was lucky, it was dark enough in the car that he couldn’t see. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant ... ”

  “If you meant you’re still convinced I can’t win but are happy to know we’ll be spending time together, I’ll rein in my outrage.” He released her seatbelt and tugged at her to move her toward him. “I want to think you’d like to see me again, regardless of the bet.” He took her face in his hands and began to stroke her cheekbones with his thumbs.

  She couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. The warmth of his hands, the pressure of his caress drove any response she might have made from her thoughts. Just as she began to think cogently again, he touched her mouth with his, lightly, softly. She could taste the spice from his dinner on his lips, along with a very distinctly male flavor.

  He tilted her head to get her mouth exactly where he wanted it and kissed her again—this time with more intensity, his lips parting and his tongue urging her to open for him. A moan sounded, echoing inside the car. She was pretty sure it came from her.

  Her arms went around his neck, and he pulled her closer, over the console between the seats. It should have been uncomfortable, but all she could feel was the heat of his mouth, the slick of his tongue as he explored her lips from one corner to the other then found her tongue and played hide-and-seek with it.

  He slid one hand up her side so it was just under an aching breast. Arching her back to give him better access, she encouraged him to touch the nipple now puckered in anticipation.

  But he broke from the kiss. “Not yet. Not tonight. Not in a dark car. I want more than that for us. With lots more time.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and her lips. “You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Do you know that?”

  She giggled. “You taste like Thai food.”

  “Luckily for me, you like Thai food. So all I have to do is find a toothpaste and mouthwash that tastes like pad Thai, and I won’t have to worry about keeping you interested.”

  He was funny and smart. He kissed like a wicked romance hero, and he talked about wanting to keep her interested. Any one of those characteristics would intrigue her. The combination would keep her awake for quite a while, wondering if she wanted to be interested.

  Chapter 5

  It had been another miserable day in the Christmas trenches. First there was the crew of teenaged shoplifters, a classic “gang that couldn’t shoot straight,” they were so inept at what they tried to do. Unfortunately, their parents refused to believe the evidence of the security cameras or the undercover shoppers who saw the teens stuffing merchandise into the bags they were caught with. The indulgent parents argued for what seemed like hours about how their darlings were being harassed before threatening lawsuits and letters of complaint.

  Then there was the man who drove her most experienced salesperson to tears with demands for things the store couldn’t provide—alterations to merchandise purchased at another shop, champagne to accompany the diamond bracelet he claimed to be about to purchase, women’s sizes that didn’t exist in clothing meant for young teens, not adults. Her staffer didn’t call in the reinforcements until things spiraled out of control, so Hannah knew another angry letter would be winging its way to Mr. Austin soon.

  And that was just what happened before lunchtime.

  Worn out when she got home, Hannah changed into yoga pants and a knit top before pouring herself a largish glass of wine. It was her night to cook, but she was beyond the ability to even think about what to prepare, let alone cook it. She was rummaging for takeout menus when her cell rang.

  “What’re you up to tonight?” David asked, sounding altogether too cheerful for her mood.

  “A tall glass of wine, some pad Thai, and bed. How about you?”

  “You tempt me, but ... ”

  “I don’t remember asking you to join me. Did I?”

  “Sorry. I jumped to a conclusion based on what I wanted, not on what you said.” Before she could say anything more, he continued, “Actually, what I called for might turn your day around. I have the urge to go see one of my favorite holiday places in Portland. I’d like to take you with me. Then I’ll buy you an Irish coffee or a hot buttered rum.”

  “Thanks but I’m not really in the mood to go anyplace tonight.”

  “If you go with me, that’ll change, I guarantee.”

  She apparently hesitated long enough for him to assume she was going to say “yes,” because he said, “Good. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Dress warmly. We’ll be outside for a while.” And he hung up.

  Hannah punched the number to call him back and cancel, but she ended the call before the first ring. Maybe he was right, if not for the reason he said. Some Christmas display wasn’t likely to improve her frame of mind, but being with him might—especially if there was any chance for another kiss like the one that ended their last outing. He could put anyone in a good mood with his kisses.

  After changing into a pair of jeans and a sweater, she dug out a down jacket and found a warm scarf, hat, and gloves. A
quick note to Sarah explained why there was no dinner waiting and warned her David might come back to the house after their date. No, not date, she reminded herself. An outing. A meeting with a colleague.

  Except how many meetings with colleagues ended with a kiss?

  She was at the front door in time to unlock it just as he knocked.

  “Eager to see me? I like that in a woman,” he said, bending down to give her a peck on the cheek.

  “Eager to get this over with so we can get to the hot buttered rum and dinner.”

  “Did I say anything about dinner?”

  “No, but if you’re dragging me out of my warm house to see some stupid Christmas display before I’ve eaten, there better be dinner involved.”

  “The place I have in mind for our drinks does food. But first the Christmas cheer, Ebenezer.”

  He drove north until they reached Hawthorne Boulevard, where he turned east. At Cesar Chavez Boulevard, he turned north again.

  “Oh, my God. It’s the fifteenth of December, isn’t it? Are you taking me where I think you’re taking me?” Hannah asked.

  “How do you know where we’re headed?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we’re headed to my old neighborhood.”

  His head snapped toward her so fast she thought she heard his neck crack. “Are you saying you lived around here?”

  “I grew up around here.” Now it was her turn to be mysterious.

  “Where, exactly?”

  “Oh, a block or so over from here.” She waved vaguely in the general direction of east. “Look, there’s a parking place. You better grab it. Parking’s tough around here this time of year.”

  “You know exactly where I’m taking you, don’t you?” he said as he slipped his car into the spot she’d pointed out.

  “Yup. Peacock Lane. I might have known a Christmas freak like you would love the place.” She hopped out of the car and waited on the sidewalk for him.

  “You know the street?”