by Laurie Paige
She swallowed hard as longing threatened to overcome her. That would never do, not on her last day. She studied Matt, who sat in an easy chair, his attention on the screen of a laptop computer while he worked on his article about New Orleans.
He’d volunteered to drive her to the airport that afternoon after a late lunch. They had also had a late breakfast after a very personal leave-taking. They’d eaten at their favorite table in the courtyard.
She was going to miss those lovely, sunny mornings sitting outside, her heart purring like a happy kitten.
“Done?” he asked, his heavenly blue eyes looking up at her.
She nodded, unable to speak for a second.
“You can still change your mind,” he said as if the emotion that rose in her was visible to him.
“Charlotte gave me a rain check on another week here,” she told him, taking the chair on the other side of the table and sipping the cool coffee in her cup. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll come back next year and take in the Mardi Gras parade and parties.”
“That’s a thought,” he agreed, his manner relaxed. “Maybe I will, too.”
Her heart leaped at the possibility of being back in New Orleans with him. “So, are you staying the rest of this week?”
“Yes. My editor called and asked if I would check out a couple of new restaurants a friend mentioned to her before I leave. I’m taking you to one of them for lunch before we head for the airport.”
“Lucky you. I’m going to miss the warm weather. Sharon said it’s below freezing back home.”
He chuckled, clicked off the laptop and closed it. “We’d better go.”
As they made their way to the rental car, Matt pulled the large suitcase with the smaller case resting on top. She carried a sturdy shopping bag with the gifts for her family members tucked inside.
The charms on her bracelet tinkled against each other like tiny wind chimes. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of the river and salt marshes and the gulf beyond as the breeze caressed her face.
Matt stowed her bags in the trunk, held the car door for her and saw that she was safely inside before getting in and driving down the street, which wasn’t very busy.
“I hope things pick up at the hotel,” she said, glancing back once at the charming building. “This has been a difficult week for them.”
“The concierge said things were getting back to normal, but it’s his job to convince guests the hotel is in good shape,” Matt said in his deep, pleasant voice. “The Marchand family has certainly had its share of troubles of late.”
“And before, too,” Kerry told him. “There was Remy’s accident and Hurricane Katrina. Also, Charlotte said her mother had had a heart attack a few months ago. She’s been very worried about her.”
“You and Charlotte got to be friends,” he commented.
“Well, not really, but we did have coffee together a couple of times during the week. I liked her. And her mother, too. You remember Anne?”
“Yes. A nice lady. Here we are.” He swung the car into a small parking lot in an area of the city that had been rebuilt since the hurricane.
The restaurant had a bold color scheme and deliberately brash attitude, a new, funky place for the young-at-heart, Matt told her.
During the meal, which was based around a tasting menu, there were long lapses in their conversation. Kerry couldn’t concentrate. Her emotions were too close to the surface to risk talking. When they at last departed for the airport, she was trapped between relief and despair.
“Well,” she said brightly when her luggage was checked and she clutched only the gift bag and her purse. “It’s been fun.” She gave a little laugh.
“It’s been wonderful,” he corrected, guiding her to a corner away from the crowd. “Do you have any objections to my calling you at home?”
“No. Of course not. I’d love to hear from you.” She gave him her most sincere look while her insides coiled into a tight ball.
“What about visiting? Is that out?”
Startled, she asked, “Would you want to visit White Bear Lake?”
He laughed and shook his head as if highly amused by the question. “I’d like to visit wherever you are.”
“Oh. That would be…”
Heaven.
Hell.
Pick one.
“…nice,” she finished.
His laughter rolled over her, through her, filling her with impossible yearnings.
She touched his cheek. “I couldn’t have made this journey without you,” she said softly. “Never in my wildest imagination could I have come up with a fellow adventurer who was so right for the situation.”
“It was fated,” he told her without a trace of irony or sardonic wit. He took her hand, touched each charm on the bracelet, then kissed her gently, sweetly. “This isn’t goodbye, Kerry. I’ll call you.”
After he left, while she stood in the security line, she wondered if he would.
“SIT STILL,” Sharon ordered.
Kerry frowned in the mirror at her sister, who was being damn bossy while she put color highlights from a kit into Kerry’s hair.
“This is going to look so good,” Sharon assured her. “You looked wonderful when you came home from New Orleans. The sun streaks were great with your eyes. Sit still. I’m almost finished.”
Kerry sighed and kept her opinion to herself. Her birthday wasn’t until Wednesday, which was Valentine’s Day, but her parents were holding a birthday dinner for her tonight, Saturday.
For some reason, Sharon had gotten the idea to play fairy godmother and try to turn Kerry into a princess for the event. She yawned as she waited for her sister to finish.
Outside the windows of her cottage, the light glinted off a new snowfall, nearly blinding in its intensity. The sky was a brilliant blue.
Like eyes she’d once gazed into while making love.
She halted the thought as her heart speeded up to a painful pace. True to his word, Matt had called several times since their sojourn in New Orleans. In fact, he’d called nearly every night. If he didn’t call, he sent an e-mail.
Except he hadn’t done either the last couple of days.
She’d found herself hovering by the phone Thursday and Friday night, then had finally gone to bed, irritated with him for not calling.
However, she had to be practical. As she’d expected, the calls were tapering off. Maybe he would still invite her to New York.
If some of the magic lingered, they might exchange calls again for a while, but eventually they would drift apart. Their communication would come down to postcards from exotic locales where he was researching the new book he’d told her about. Perhaps he would mention someone interesting he’d met.
Ah, well, the life of a celebrity was a lot more glamorous than her life. Not that she wanted to change. She was happy in her job…and in her life… pretty happy…
“Okay, we have to let that stay on for twenty minutes,” Sharon said, checking her watch. “Let’s pick out something for you to wear. I can’t believe you went to New Orleans and didn’t buy one single outfit. That just slays me.”
“Hey, I bought those clothes you talked me into before I went on the trip.”
“Oh, let’s look at those. I want you to look really good. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
Kerry threw a sofa pillow at her sister. “Thirty-five isn’t all that old.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m three years younger and I feel ancient.”
“Well, that’s because you’ve got kids,” Kerry told her with superior logic.
“Isn’t that the truth. By the way, they loved the gifts. Ian took the python photo to school for show and tell. The kids declared you and…what was its name?”
“Jolie.”
“Yeah, they thought you and Jolie were a great team. They decided you were awesome. I quote your nephew.”
Laughing, they went into the bedroom. After a thorough search, Sharon selected black slacks, a
black fitted camisole with a built-in bra and a black-and-green cardigan to wear over it.
“That looks really good,” she said. “Informal but sophisticated. Chic.”
“Just the effect I was going for,” Kerry murmured facetiously. Right. For dinner with her parents.
Sharon seemed to think this was hilarious.
After a shower to wash the highlighter out of her hair, Kerry dressed and even put on evening pumps when Sharon insisted she needed them for the outfit.
Her sister also helped her with her makeup, adding a golden sheen over dark, smudgy shadows on her upper eyelids and insisted she brush on several layers of mascara.
“Look,” Sharon commanded, turning her toward the mirror on the bathroom door.
Kerry blinked at her image. She looked different from her usual self and more as she had on vacation in New Orleans last month—smart and glittery, but mysterious, too, with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth…as if the woman who gazed back at her had a wonderful secret.
“THIS IT?” the driver wanted to know.
Matt checked the address again and decided this was definitely the cottage where Kerry lived, just as Sharon had described it to him. The roads had been cleared of snow, and his driver had gotten them from the airport and over the county road without difficulty.
“Sure is,” he said, and handed the man a couple of bills. “No change.”
The driver nodded in pleasure at the tip.
Matt thought any amount was worth it to get here. The blizzard yesterday had been a worry, but he was here at last.
He was a little surprised to find he was nervous as he walked up to the front door, his luggage in hand.
If Sharon was wrong…if his own instincts were wrong…well, this trip was going to be a disaster.
He rang the doorbell and admired the pinecone-and-dried-apple wreath on the door. When he heard footsteps inside, his heart went into overdrive.
When Kerry opened the door, all his muscles seized up and his heart skipped several beats.
“Matt!” she cried, her eyes wide and staring and utterly beautiful.
“My God,” he said, “you’re even lovelier than I remembered. And that’s a fact, not a cliché.”
“Matt,” she said again, blinking rapidly.
“Yeah,” he said in a very husky voice, “it’s me.”
“What are you doing here?”
He gestured toward his suitcase. “You said it was okay to visit any time I wanted. May I come in?”
She was charmingly flustered. “Yes. Of course. I’m so glad to see you…I don’t understand…uh, do you want to stay here? I have a guest room.”
A blush bloomed like a rose all over her face.
“But you probably have other arrangements,” she ended, giving him an anxious stare.
“No. I’d hoped you would invite me to stay.”
She stepped back so he could enter and closed the door behind him. He breathed deeply and caught the scent of cinnamon in the air and the familiar drift of rose blossoms from her favorite cologne.
He dropped the bag and gathered her close. “I knew I’d missed you, but I hadn’t realized how much until this moment.”
Unable to resist, he kissed her, and it was like every dream he’d had for the past five weeks—no, better, because this was real.
Kerry was sure this wasn’t real, but Matt was here. In the flesh. He was kissing her as if he’d really missed her. And she was kissing him back.
“Matt,” she said at one point a long time later. “Matt.” That’s all she could get out, she was that thunderstruck by his presence.
When he lifted her into his arms, she held on tightly, then settled happily in his lap on the sofa.
“This is like a dream. Oh!” she said in alarm.
“What?” he asked, nuzzling along her neck and collarbone.
“Tonight. There’s a birthday dinner. At my parents’.”
She realized she didn’t want to leave home or see anyone else or have to make small talk.
“I know. I’m invited.”
He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes, which made her mind go hazy, like she was soaring into an endless blue sky. “You are?”
“Yeah. Is that okay with you?”
To her surprise, a sort of anxious look came into his heavenly eyes. She squeezed him as tightly as she could.
“Of course. I’m delighted, just surprised, that’s all—well, actually, flabbergasted,” she babbled, suffused with happiness she couldn’t suppress. “Oh, Matt, this is the best birthday present ever,” she assured him.
His laughter worked its usual magic on her. She glanced at the clock. They should be at her parents in forty minutes. With a fifteen-minute drive, would there be enough time to…?
She realized there wouldn’t.
“Uh, we need to leave in a few minutes. I’ll show you to your room.” She groaned. “I sound like the staff at the Hotel Marchand,” she said when he cast her a questioning glance.
Laughing softly, he followed her to the guest room and left his bag there. She pointed out the guest bathroom and invited him to freshen up. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she realized her eyes were shining and her cheeks flamed with color.
Happiness, she thought. Having Matt here was the greatest happiness.
But when he leaves? some part of her asked.
She shook her head. She’d think about that when the time came, she decided, and ignored the piercing ache at the thought of another parting. Going into her bedroom, she removed the charm bracelet from her jewelry box and fastened it on her left wrist. There, that felt right.
For an instant she stared at the intricate love knot ring nestled among her small collection of birthstones and costume jewelry. It seemed to glow in the lamplight as if bestowing a birthday blessing on her.
When Matt returned to the living room, she was standing by a side table, waiting. She noticed he’d changed from the casual jeans he’d arrived in to dress slacks and a muted plaid shirt of blue and tan. He carried a tweedy sports jacket of heather blues and browns draped over his shoulder and held by a finger. Oh, but he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m with you, kid,” he said in the tone of a hard-boiled movie detective.
They smiled and simply stood there for an enchanted moment, staring at each other.
He was the first to move. “After you.” He held her winter parka while she slipped it on, then opened the door to the frosty winter chill.
To her, the evening air felt as balmy as it had in New Orleans last month. She drove them to her parents’ home, still not sure she wasn’t imagining all this. Several cars were already in the drive when they arrived.
“Happy birthday,” her relatives shouted when she and Matt arrived at the door.
Her grandparents were there, her sister and her family, her aunts and uncles, several cousins and their children.
Kerry glanced at Matt and relaxed. He was perfectly at ease in a mob scene. She grinned and squeezed his arm.
He gave her a wink and calmly shook hands as she introduced him to twenty-three of her closest relatives.
“Let’s eat,” her nephew suggested after the introductions. “Then we can get to the cake and ice cream.”
From that moment, the evening became a blur of laughter, stories—mostly about her and Sharon’s exploits—delicious food, and finally the cake and ice cream.
There were presents of jewelry and clothing and handmade knitted scarves, plus a tiny diorama of a nature scene from her nephew and two nieces, composed of a bird’s egg in a tiny nest, twigs for trees, dried seeds and pebbles for landscaping, all glued to a round cedar plank.
Matt gave her a sterling silver charm with gold accents. She recognized it as the Hotel Marchand.
“Ohh,” she said, then couldn’t say another word as he snapped it onto her bracelet. When the evening started to wind down, she found she
was ready to go home. She thanked her relatives for a wonderful birthday with hugs and good wishes for them all.
“I’ll help with the dishes,” she told her mom.
“You’ll do no such thing,” her mom retorted, shooing her out of the kitchen. “It’s your birthday …well, on Wednesday, but we wanted to celebrate when everyone could be here.”
“I know.” Kerry threw her arms around her mother. “It was a super birthday dinner, Mom.”
They held each other for a moment, then her mother said, “Go home with your young man. I think he wants to have you to himself.”
Anticipation rose in Kerry. She laughed. “I think I want to have him to myself, too.”
Her mother touched her cheek before they rejoined Matt in the living room. “Be happy, darling.”
“I will. I am,” Kerry assured her.
She and Matt headed home just as a light snow started falling. “Good timing,” she told him.
“I agree.” He paused. “I liked your family. Your parents made me feel very welcome in their home. And it was nice meeting Sharon face-to-face after talking to her on the phone this week.”
“I think I detect some collusion going on between you two,” she accused, thinking of her hair and makeup and the outfit that her sister had insisted she wear.
“Uh-huh,” he agreed, but wouldn’t confess to more.
At her house, she saw it wasn’t quite eleven by the wall clock. That seemed a little early for bed on a Saturday night. She turned on the gas logs in the fireplace.
“Would you like some hot cider?” she asked.
Matt shook his head. “Come sit by me.”
Feeling a bit startled, she went to the sofa and sat down, careful not to crowd him. When he kicked off his shoes, she did, too.
“This is cozy,” he murmured.
“Yes.” She could barely get the word out. Nervous, she tucked her feet under her and leaned into the corner of the sofa, farther from him than she liked, but safer. She didn’t want to seem pushy in case this visit was more casual than she hoped. She sensed currents flowing between them and wanted him to lift her into his lap as he’d usually done in New Orleans when they were alone.
