Tidings of Love

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  Eloise stood as the other girls dressed her in different costume pieces transforming her into Frosty. From her vantage point, Penelope enjoyed watching as the audience went slack-jawed as the girls threw bubble wrap on the floor. With great physical effort and every possible body part, the girls popped the bubbles. Some jumped, some rolled on the floor, and some pushed each other. She struggled to hold back her mirth as Eloise did something best described as bouncing on her bottom. The girls laughed so hard they couldn’t sing, but she did her best to finish the lyrics for them.

  Next, Eloise, still in her snowman costume and slightly out of breath, moved to center stage to read her original poem. Having taught her for five months, she admired the little girl’s growing confidence, but her heart ached for the motherless child every time she listened to it. She suspected she wouldn’t be the only one tearing up today.

  “Christmas star light and bright,

  Bring a wish to me tonight.

  I don’t want presents or money,

  Or a big fat tummy.

  I want my Mommy, oops, I mean my family, to hold me tight,

  And give me kisses all through the night.”

  Pleased Eloise corrected her mistake quickly and adorably, rather than getting upset as she had the other day in rehearsal, Penelope pulled herself together, allowing the audience to do the same. She daubed her eyes with the handkerchief concealed in her hand before starting the applause.

  After a moment, she stepped forward. “Thank you all for coming today and more importantly, thank you all for sharing your wonderful, creative daughters with me for the last few months. I hope you are as proud of them as I am.”

  With a quick swish of her skirts she signaled the girls to run to their parents for hugs and kisses.

  Allowing her students a private moment to accept the adulations of their most ardent fans, she began picking up the bubble wrap, alone. In the mirrored wall, she quietly watched as Eloise jumped into Carson’s lap before reaching over to hug her grandparents. For the first time, she wondered what it must be like for a parent to watch their child blossom, what it would be like to watch her own child.

  She glanced away from the mirror, scooping up more debris from the floor. There was too much to pick up to let her mind travel down paths untaken. Spending so much time fostering the girls’ imaginations apparently sent hers into overdrive. Perhaps she’d call her brother Quinn later. He wouldn’t let her wallow in pity.

  She heard foot falls and before she finished her thought, arms wrapped tight around her legs, nearly knocking her off balance.

  Eloise practically shouted, “You need kisses, too! I’ll be your little girl.”

  Sloppy kisses and tears moistened her cheeks at this spontaneous outpouring of affection. She crouched to return the hug and within seconds, other girls rushed over, wanting to give her a hug as well. She’d think about Eloise’s words later. Now, she needed to pull herself together, and say goodbye to all the girls since she knew she wouldn’t be back after the holidays.

  As families filed out, she noticed Carson and Eloise lagging behind, zipping their coats in slow motion. She didn’t want to clean the floors in front of any of the students or their parents so she started to push the audience’s chairs back into place.

  “Let me help,” Carson said.

  He spoke with that same low rumble he used when offering her coffee last weekend. Penelope knew she couldn’t blame the coffee for the warming sensation within her body. She wondered if he used that tone just to drive her mad or if he was oblivious to power to charm? She swallowed hard, but refused to look at him. She couldn’t risk looking into those eyes. She might imagine an invitation to press her lips against his.

  “Sure. It will make the cleanup go faster.”

  Stacking chairs, he paused. She followed his gaze to watch Eloise practicing pirouettes in the middle of the room, a serious expression on her face. Penelope smiled. She knew how much Eloise struggled with spotting and how determined she was to master the skill. She was about to ask Carson if she had a spot to practice at home when he broke the silence.

  “Are you available on Saturday?”

  “What time?” She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. After last Friday, she doubted he would ever let her watch Eloise again. She didn’t want to know the details. He probably had a date for a holiday party and the Pattersons were otherwise engaged. But she’d do it. For Eloise.

  “Would six work?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good.”

  They put the last few chairs away in silence. They said goodbye, in that cordial way one does with teachers, although she and Eloise exchanged one last hug before she skipped toward the door. She listened, amused, as Eloise attempted to convince him that they should have ice cream for dinner to celebrate her performance. She used to do the same thing at that age and sometimes it even worked, but then her parents would insist on broccoli for dessert. Carson probably insisted on a healthy dinner or at least one without the possibility of sprinkles. That was yet another reason why she should forget last week’s kiss.

  • • •

  Penelope dressed for comfort in stretchy black pants and a t-shirt with a sparkly Christmas tree, which she thought Eloise would like, and a black cardigan she’d knit two years ago. She didn’t spend nearly as much time on hair and make-up as she had during her last visits to the Langley home. Nearing the house, she admired the Christmas tree, enjoying the street view. No other holiday lights or décor competed with the tree for attention.

  It struck her as appropriate. She suspected Carson preferred the single focus on the tree. It fit with the rest of him. His singular focus on his daughter, his continued attachment to his deceased wife in spite of the vulnerability he showed last week. Steeling herself for cordial chatter with him, she stepped onto the porch and rang the bell.

  He opened the door.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re here.” He invited her inside and removed her coat, but without the accidental touch she so enjoyed before. Just as well. She searched the foyer, trying to ignore the man beside her as she sorted out what else was missing.

  “Where’s Eloise? Last time she gave me a hug before I even had a chance to take off my coat.” She bent as she spoke so she could undo her boots and not track melting snow throughout the house.

  “She’s with her Grandma and Pappy.”

  She couldn’t have heard him right. She straightened and glared at him, but he appeared unfazed. If anything, he seemed relieved or possibly … dare she say … happy? It was too much. Sighing, she leaned over, preparing to rebuckle her left boot.

  “You could have called to tell me that before I came over.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

  Suddenly, he was crouched beside her, grabbing her hand before she got her shoe buckled. “But then you might not have come over at all.”

  Chapter 5

  Lifting her head, she met his gaze. She wasted time and gas getting to an unpaid babysitting job and he sat there, his gray eyes looking downright amused. Anger bubbled inside her, but she bit her tongue. There was no use making an enemy of him.

  He guided her to a standing position. “I guess I wasn’t very clear the other day.”

  She arched her eyebrow quizzically, and crossed her arms over her chest, letting her impatient look speak for her.

  “Eloise is having dinner with her grandparents and sleeping over before their annual breakfast with Santa. You assumed I asked you over to watch her, when really I wanted your company.”

  “It was a reasonable assumption, especially since last time you let me know you might have needs, but you’re not exactly open to filling them.”

  “Ouch. I deserved that.”

  She tried reading his face, wondering what sort of game he played. Last week, he shut her out, this week he
teased her, promising to finish what they started last week. He gave her a sheepish half smile. The dimple did her in. She would stay.

  She would stay in spite of knowing he could bring her a world of hurt. He loved someone else. Catherine had been his star; Penelope was the stand in, not even the understudy, just a convenient, willing substitute.

  He stared expectantly at her, apparently waiting for her answer. She sighed. Tonight, they were two lonely people seeking comfort and warmth. As much as she liked the idea of pursuing something more, she needed to keep some distance between them, emotionally if not physically.

  “If I stay, I need something from you.”

  He stepped closer. The peppery, spicy scent of his aftershave surrounded her, inflaming her. Adrenaline surged through her body, every nerve anticipating his lips on hers. They stood inches apart, but not touching.

  “What?”

  The rasp in his voice suggested she wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity. She spoke quickly, fearing if she didn’t get the words out in one breath, she’d do something foolish like nuzzle his neck or tug up his shirt and touch his back.

  “I want to be long gone before Eloise is due to arrive home. You and I may be grown up and know what we’re doing tonight, but she is a child. It’ll be hard enough saying goodbye to her when I land a new job somewhere out of town, but I’ll depart as her friend and teacher. I don’t want her to get her hopes up that I’ll be some sort of mother figure in her life. If she sees us together, she might think that. I refuse to hurt her in that way.”

  He considered her words, his eyes going blank as he accessed recesses of his mind. He seemed to be struggling to find an answer. Her lungs pressed heavily in her ribcage and heart. It was like being on an audition and waiting for the choreographer to either announce her number or send her packing in silence.

  He looked back at her, drawing in his breath. On the exhale, he whispered, “Agreed,” before chastely kissing her cheek. The look he gave her as he pulled away was anything but chaste. Fire ran through her body.

  She opened her mouth to reply, but instead, he dropped to his knees and tapped on her boots. “You won’t need these.”

  “I guess not.” She bent forward to undo the buckles, but he stopped her, placing his hand on her hip.

  “Allow me.”

  Surprised by his request, she complied as he gently pulled off each boot and placed them neatly onto the boot tray by the door. During her career, she’d had a few quick costume changes where dressers helped her strip out of one costume and throw on another in a matter of seconds. She knew when to hold still and when to move to help them do their job. With Carson, it was tantalizingly different. He used light pressure to hold her leg and did his work smoothly and patiently. His touch aroused her, showing his potential as a lover, but subtly. She touched his shoulder with her fingertips, certain her legs lacked the strength to hold her upright. Silently, he stood and stepped back giving her that lopsided grin once more.

  “Thank you.”

  She matched his gaze and cocked her head to the left, the corners of her mouth tugging slightly upward. Carson left her rattled, in a good way. She sensed he wanted to play it slow. And after last week, he needed to take the lead in whatever might happen between the two of them. Even though he might stop at any point, leaving her frustrated, she looked forward to it. She wondered if and how he would continue his seduction dance. She sensed this would be more of a tango than the quick and dirty grind preferred by her few past lovers. She longed to learn some new moves. With him.

  • • •

  He scanned her body head to toe and back, struck yet again by her easy beauty. Costume jewelry barrettes pulled back her bouncy curls enough to keep them out of her eyes. Her clothes fit like a glove, showing soft curves, the rise and fall of her chest, and her long legs. Part of him wanted to kiss her, to savor that taste he’d thought of so much this past week. The one that made him want to see her again even though he knew he shouldn’t. He wanted to trace his fingers along her heart shaped face, pull her close, and feel those long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

  In spite of the strength of her physical pull on him, he needed to know more about her. His sole one night stand had left him empty. He couldn’t risk his heart or hers. He couldn’t do that to her. Already, she meant more to him than that and he needed to know why she mattered so much. And he needed to discover why without Eloise and her unabashed admiration present.

  Unfortunately, rational thought eluded him when he looked at Penelope. Even now, he was forgetting something important. He glanced away, hoping to break the powerful spell she cast on him.

  “I’ve got to check on dinner.”

  “Is that what smells so delicious? What is it?”

  “Coq au Vin. Care to join me in the kitchen?”

  He indicated she should sit at the dark marble countertop attached to the work island. She accepted the generous glass of Cabernet Franc he proffered. She cradled the glass, leaning forward to watch him chop vegetables once she realized he would not accept her help.

  “This is a lot more elaborate than grilled cheese. When did you learn to cook?”

  “I grew tired of takeout. Neither Catherine nor I cooked when we got married. She worked long hours, and with my med school and residency, it was easier to grab something on the go or microwave a frozen dinner. After Eloise was born, dining out became more challenging, so I decided to learn how to cook. Eloise tolerates my experiments so long as I let her choose dinner at least one night a week.” He wondered whether mentioning Catherine’s name was a faux pas, yet Penelope seemed undeterred.

  “You taught yourself? I’m impressed.”

  The way she looked at him, smiling, eyes peeking over her glass coquettishly, yet sincere, interfered with his chopping rhythm. He didn’t mind. He stopped to look at her. He grew aware of a warmth on his cheeks. Her compliment was undeserved since the only thing she’d tasted that he cooked was a grilled cheese and tomato soup from a can.

  “I watched a lot of cooking shows.”

  “You have the moves down and it smells heavenly. You don’t get aromas like that from the television.” She took a small sip from her glass. She seemed to enjoy it. He spent an hour trying to decide what wine to use.

  “I used to watch those shows sometimes on the road, but they just made me hungry for a home cooked meal so I quit. My mom’s been working with me these last few months, trying to refresh my cooking skills. Compared to her, I’m a disaster. Still, it’s nice crafting a meal, even if I am only throwing together a casserole or a salad. The hands-on work, the smells — it’s so much more sensual than picking something off a menu. This kitchen is so beautiful, by the way. It looks like a TV set or a magazine. Your whole house does.” Her hands fluttered, gracefully indicating their surroundings.

  “Do you really like it? I find it a bit dreary, actually. The furniture, cabinets, curtains, countertops, everything is so dark. Except for Eloise’s room, that is.”

  “Now that’s a blast of color!”

  The sound of Penelope’s laugh brought a smile to his face. “I don’t want the whole house bubblegum pink, but her room is certainly more cheerful than the rest of the house. We painted it together last summer. She made such a mess with the roller that I ended up getting new carpet in there, too.”

  “I bet she had fun, though. She loves that canopy over her bed. She said she feels like she’s in a fairy house. Oh, did she show you the fairy house we made last Friday?”

  He glanced up in surprise. “No.”

  “You can see it from the back door. I’ll show you.”

  Standing behind her, his body responded to her closeness and the smell of her skin. Her hair tickled his chin. “There it is. See the twigs sticking out of the snow? We scavenged materials in the backyard.”

  “Is this why
the bathtub was so dirty?”

  “She did get a bit grimy collecting her building materials.” She twisted her neck to face him. “Sorry about the tub. I couldn’t find the cleaner and the paper towels only did so much. I’m surprised the fairy house is still upright.”

  He reached for her when she got a mischievous smile, but not in time. She opened the porch door and before he could ask what she was doing, she formed a couple snowballs.

  She shouted over her shoulder, “How’s your arm?”

  “Are you going to knock it down?”

  “Hopefully, although I don’t have great aim. I was the last picked in gym class. Did you know that fairies can be pretty clumsy in the snow? Even in good weather they have a tendency to knock down their houses and hope they get rebuilt. After she rebuilds it, the fairy leaves a present to show her gratitude.”

  “Great, more shopping.”

  “No, not at all. Fairies only leave things they find in nature. Flowers in the summer, pinecones, acorns, and pretty leaves at other times. I noticed some great looking icicles on your front porch. Fairies love sparkly things.” She studied the small house. “Eloise made a sturdy house. We used some rocks, but there are a lot of twigs on the roof.”

  Her first snowball fell short and to the left.

  “Oh well.” She looked at him and shrugged. “I had brothers. Mom probably made up the stuff about clumsy fairies so I wouldn’t pick a fight with them when they knocked the houses down.”

  “How many?”

  “Fairy houses?”

  “Brothers.”

  “Three. And one sister.”

  “And they didn’t teach you how to throw?”

  She shook her head.

  He scooped up snow from in front of the door and coached her on how to toss an underhand snowball to the gate on the deck. She beamed when she made contact. He couldn’t remember the last time he cut loose like this. Laughing, he asked “How serious are you about the fairy house? I don’t want to make Eloise too mad.”