On The Dotted Line

by Kim Carmichael

  “I am saying it doesn’t matter.” She spun to face him, her hair whipping around and hitting her in the face. “Why do you have to know? It doesn’t matter! You didn’t marry a woman with any background and it couldn’t make a difference, because in a few months I’ll be gone and then you won’t have to worry about it!”

  He recoiled as if she slapped him in the face. Again she mentioned the end and again Jade’s question replayed in his mind. “Willow, I asked you before what you want.”

  “I can’t give you the answer until you know what you want.” Tears sparkled in her eyes.

  He resisted the urge to reach out to her. “How can I know what I want when I don’t even know who I married?”

  “You know all you need to know and now you have your answer.” She turned her back to him.

  “So that’s what you want.”

  Again, silence and a shrug.

  Stagnant heat seemed to take over the tent. He had to get out of there and crawled out of the tent. “Am I allowed to go outside? I need some air.”

  “You are free to do what you want. Maybe you should create something.”

  “I was trying to.” The night air instantly cooled him. A bon fire in center circle lit up the area.

  Two tents over, he spotted Nan standing outside staring up at the sky.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to her.

  “There’s a regular bathroom just beyond the trees.” With a laugh, Nan pointed. “Unless you want to commune with nature some more.”

  “When you and Willow didn’t have a mattress to sleep on did you have a bathroom?” He rocked from his heels to his toes.

  “That is not my story to tell.”

  “Fair enough.” He didn’t even know why he asked. “May I ask you something that is your story?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why did you never marry?”

  “Does a woman have to marry to be valid?” She hooked her arm in his and led him away.

  “No.” They walked around the circle. “Neither does a man.”

  “I was given a blessing when I got Willow, but she began her life on unstable ground and I needed to give her my heart to make her whole. I would give it to her a million times more, but now it’s time for her to find her own soil.”

  “Can you give me anything to go on?” No, he wasn’t beyond begging.

  “Before you get what you want, you need to think of why you want it.” She stopped and stood in front of him. “Do you want to win or do you want something more?”

  Before he spoke, he took a moment to think about his answer. If nothing else, he wanted to give her the truth. “All I’ve done my whole life is try to win, so I don’t even know how to answer your question.”

  Nan pressed her palm to his cheek. “Willow fears anything ending and your life is based on a series of finishes.”

  He absorbed her words. “I need to think.”

  “A good revelation for the New Year.” She smiled one of those wise smiles that told him she knew more than she ever let on.

  Arm in arm they continued their walk. Yes, he needed to think.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Lillian, hold it tight while I secure the ends.” Mr. Van Ayers leaned over and tied one side of his tamale.

  “Van, don’t get my nail stuck in there.” Lillian winced, but per her husband’s instructions kept her fingers in place.

  “I spent a lifetime watching your nails, do you think I would tie one up over three thousand miles away from your nail lady?” He moved to the other side. “Stay still, I know we can beat them.”

  Willow shook her head at the scene in front of her. Not in a million years did she ever think she would find Mr. Van Ayers making tamales on Christmas with the rest of the Van Ayers clan, but more surprising than anything was watching them work together. They were a true husband and wife team. Even with Mr. Van Ayers’ commanding presence and Lillian’s unique look on the world, the love between them was evident.

  “We are already one up on you son.” Randolph Van Ayers the first, otherwise known as Randolph the third’s grandfather, otherwise known as Judge for his work in local politics, nodded. “Hurry up Caroline, we can get at least a two-tamale lead on Junior.”

  The family resemblance among the Randolphs was as incredible as the experience. Randolph I, II and III were like gazing upon a movie where the lead character gradually became older and Judge possessed the appearance of the star that aged but still kept his spark.

  “We got this. You need the nimble fingers of a woman to tie the ends. My son’s fingers are too large and he’s too concerned with his wife’s grooming.” Caroline, Randolph’s grandmother, finished her bow, held her hands up and gave Willow a wink. “Come on old man, get the next one, I want to spend time with my granddaughter-in-law. She promised me a reading before we open the presents. I want to know what I got before I get it.”

  With the grace and looks of a queen without the attitude to match, Caroline Van Ayers playfully, but dutifully, commanded all she surveyed including a mansion in Vermont that rivaled the one back in Bel Air, a staff and her husband. Willow observed her in awe. All the Van Ayers males practically cowered in her short, but powerful shadow.

  “You talk about me father, but you haven’t even mentioned your grandson, who walked away to go get something right in the middle of the fight.” Mr. Van Ayers cradled his tamale in his palm and held it up. “Nanette, please inspect this one and tell Judge speed does not match perfection.”

  Nan bent down and gave him a thumbs-up. “You are right on.”

  Mr. Van Ayers put his in the pile and returned to his wife. “Come on Lillian, we can catch up. We’ll leave the seniors and the babies in our wake.”

  Suddenly, Christmas music filled the air and the kitchen door boomed open. “I have returned.” With a large burlap bag in his hands, Randolph entered the kitchen like a makeshift Santa Clause and headed straight for her. “Willow, I brought us something.”

  Since they arrived in Vermont, Randolph had gone Christmas crazy. Thus far he presented her with candy canes, made sure they strung popcorn and cranberries for the tree, decorated sugar cookies, and they tried to build a gingerbread house. They were never to speak of the collapse of their cookie cottage again. She swore her husband got tears in his eyes at the mention of the demolition.

  “Anytime you want to take this playlist off repeat it is fine with me.” Mr. Van Ayers shook his head.

  “Bah Humbug.” Randolph brushed him away.

  In Mr. Van Ayers’ defense, Randolph had played the same series of about fifteen songs for the last seventy-two hours. Of course, in same amount of time, he also stopped asking about her past. Either the man realized she was right and it didn’t matter, he respected her wishes, or he didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t sure which answer she wanted, but she knew which one she didn’t want.

  “You better get going on these tamales, or you’ll never catch up.” Randolph’s father held up another finished product. “The winner gets to pick the wine for Christmas dinner.”

  “Maybe it’s not so much about winning, but the process of making the tamale and the spirit of the holiday season.” Randolph opened his bag.

  Everyone, including her, stopped and stared at youngest of the Randolph Van Ayers in the room. Had he honestly said it wasn’t about winning?

  Of course, along with not asking about her past was the other side of Randolph. Since Sedona, the man who had contracts down to what brand of sock he would wear, changed. He seemed deeper, he listened to her, and he doted on her. She shook her head. Maybe he did all these things before, and she tried to ignore him. No matter what, keeping her distance wasn’t working at all.

  “Randolph, baby, did you have too much eggnog?” Lillian twisted around to look at him.

  “No, Willow and I already did eggnog yesterday.” He reached in the bag and pulled out what appeared to be little brown nuts. “Today is spiced wine, sugar plums and roasted chestnuts.”<
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  “Honey, where are you getting these ideas?” Lillian narrowed her eyes.

  Willow wanted to ask the same question. In truth, she wanted to ask many questions.

  “The Traditional Christmas handbook.” Judge let out a laugh and put another tamale in his pile.

  She managed to not ask if there was such a handbook, but she caught Randolph reading on the flight to Vermont. The moment he discovered tamales were part of the holiday festivities and Nan knew how to make them, she would have thought he uncovered a Christmas miracle. Upon their arrival to the senior Van Ayers’ home, Randolph insisted everyone join in the tamale making and refused the help of the staff.

  “I didn’t know there was a book.” Lillian wrinkled her nose. “I hope we’re doing everything right.”

  “I have it covered, Mother.” Randolph returned his attention to Willow and handed her one of the chestnuts. “I talked to the chef and he said he could make these for us, and he said it would be his pleasure. He will even put them in paper bags for us. But first we have something to do.”

  She held her breath in anticipation of what he would conjure next.

  “Like make tamales?” Randolph’s father barked.

  “We made tamales, and we are going to allow the rest of you to continue with this fine culinary craft while I take my wife into the snow.” He took her hand. “I am busy being a husband.”

  And there was the problem.

  He was being a husband.

  An amazing one.

  One who insisted on throwing her whole world off balance, and she didn’t know how to get back on track.

  “Keep talking son, you’re slowing up your grandparents.” His father lifted another cornhusk. “Lillian, I don’t think there is the proper amount of meat on this one.”

  “Come on.” Randolph shook his head and led her to the back door. He stopped and helped her put on a puffy white coat, and matching boots, mittens and scarf, items that seemed to materialize for her the other day. “You look like a gorgeous ice princess. It’s the eyes.”

  While her mind begged to remain firmly grounded in reality, her heart fluttered, longing to soar away on the fantasy Randolph created since they left Sedona. He could easily take her heart. Half the time she wanted to give it to him on one of his mother’s expensive designer platters and get it over with.

  He put on his black cold weather gear. His blond curls and green eyes popped. The man should have forgotten finance altogether and simply sold pin up pictures of himself in various outfits. At the sight of him and the way he spoke, her body and her heart fought her mind. It was an all-out war and she decided to simply try to go with the flow, relax and capture some of the spirit overtaking her husband. “Well, then you look just like a handsome prince.” She wrinkled her nose at her words.

  “Then let’s stroll about the kingdom, shall we?” With a smile that only needed a starburst to be complete, he bowed.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to return to the war zone and win the tamale trophy?” She couldn’t believe he actually walked away from a challenge.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll win.” He held out his arm.

  Powerless to ward off his overwhelming energy, she took hold of him. If nothing else, she needed the support.

  Randolph’s grandparents’ property was at least as impressive as the California property, but more natural. The house was set against what she would describe as a forest, and even included a small iced over pond. With a dusting of snow on everything, the setting was right out of a catalog for Christmas, or the Christmas handbook.

  They walked along the shoveled path over to the trees.

  Randolph held up his hand. “I want to show you something. Stay right there.” He took several steps into the snow and bent down.

  “What is it?” She stood on her tiptoes to try to see.

  “Hold on.” His voice came out strained. “Close your eyes.”

  She shut her eyes and waited for yet something else she hadn’t known she missed but wanted all the same.

  Out of nowhere a ball of cold exploded on her. “Randolph!” She gasped and opened her eyes. Her coat was covered with pieces of snow, blending into her outfit.

  Another snowball in hand, he grinned. “I’ll give you a moment to catch up, but I warn you. I told you I would win.”

  Yes, they needed fun. She bit her lip, stomped into the snow and gathered up as much snow as she could into some sort of warped ball.

  “I’m waiting.” Randolph called out in a sing-song voice.

  Without any knowledge of snowballs, she paused, going for a surprise attack. At last she spun around. In preparation of propelling her own projectile, she cocked her arm back, but before she fired off her weapon, another blast hit her right in the face. “Ah!” She jumped and fell back in the snow and dropping her own snow blob on her head.

  “Willow!” In an instant Randolph skidded to her side, landing on top of her. “I didn’t mean to aim so perfectly.”

  She opened her mouth and snow dropped onto her tongue.

  “Are you all right?” Randolph brushed her off.

  She blinked to find him gazing down at her. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “The fight isn’t over.” Using her legs for leverage and the element of surprise, she somehow managed to turn the both of them over and straddled him, pinning him down.

  “Is this how we’re going to play it?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

  She slid her hand off to his side and scooped up some snow. “You started the game and didn’t tell me the rules.”

  “I think no matter what the rules are you make up your own.”

  “Yes I do.” She threw the snow on him at exactly the same time he returned the favor.

  Like two animals set free, they let loose. Snow flew everywhere as they tried to pelt each other with the freezing white flakes. Despite her best efforts to win the cold war, she ended up on her back under Randolph.

  “Had enough?” He panted, his breaths coming out as little white puffs.

  Her throat dry from the exertion, she managed to gather up one more handful of snow.

  He caught her wrist, lifted her arm, and with his free hand gave her a playful poke under her ribcage.

  The tickles ran through her. At her laugher, she released her hold on the snow and dropped it on herself.

  “You win.” Her arm went weak and she blinked away the snow on her lashes.

  “See? I told you I would win something today.” He leaned down. “Do I get to choose my prize?”

  “I don’t think I have any choice over you picking the wine for dinner.” She shivered from the cold and the way he looked her over.

  “I want something much more tasty.” He lifted his eyebrows.

  “I’ll see what I can do. I don’t want to be a sore loser.” Her heart sped and she willed it to slow, leave her alone and stop begging for something it couldn’t have.

  “You have what I need right here.” He curled his hand around the back of her head, pulled her up and grazed his lips over hers.

  His light kiss warmed her in all the right places, but before she had the opportunity to open her mouth, he pushed back and stared into her eyes. “I missed kissing my wife.”

  His wife. He wanted a wife if only for the year. Still, her breath caught. She didn’t realize she missed him as well and in her attempt to go with the moment, leaned up to connect their mouths once more.

  In an instant he gave in and their tongues touched. While her center heated, the combination of lying in a pile of snow and a light breeze caused her to shiver.

  Randolph moaned and moved his mouth to her ear. “You’re freezing.”

  Somehow with him there it didn’t matter.

  “We are going to have to get ready for dinner and presents, but first I must warm you up.” He stood and helped her up.

  Better than the idea of presents, was the anticipation of how he planned on raising her body temperature. As he guided her
inside and up to their suite, the snow clinging to her hair melted chilling her, and her mind yelled out a warning.

  He corralled them both into the huge grey marble bathroom, turned on the water in the shower built for multiple people and returned to her. “Let’s get out of these wet things.”

  On automatic she undressed, and dropped her clothes in a pile on the floor. Her mind overruled the rest of her body, and she realized she at least better figure out what she wanted before stepping into the shower with her husband.

  Yes, Nan always told her to go with the flow, but she didn’t think the woman meant getting washed away. What was it about Randolph the third that made her forget everything?

  “The hot water awaits.” He took her hand.

  She turned and practically fell over. No wonder her mind turned to mush around him.

  Yes, she had spied Randolph without his suit of armor many times, but for some reason it was always a flash, or the room was dark, or something prevented her actually being able to take him all in.

  In the brightly lit bathroom, she finally got to truly take in the man she married.

  His poster perfect looks didn’t stop at his face. In fact, the rest of his body would have made the ideal centerfold. Muscles in all the right places encapsulated by smooth skin, everything fit, strong, and tight.

  “Come on.” He gave her a little tug.

  Without a thought or a protest, she stepped inside with him. Several strategically placed showerheads ensured they both remained under the warm water. Once she spotted Randolph with his damp curls, she closed her eyes lest she attack the man. Images of him making love to her in their wet wonderland instantly filled her struggling mind.

  “My God, you are beautiful.” His voice echoed, bouncing off the marble.

  She gained her courage to look at him. No matter the arguments, the miscommunication, the bizarre circumstances where they ended up together in the here and now, they had the same effect on each other. Though privy to the size of his erection, it was truly impressive in the stark bathroom lighting.

  “I want you to know that from day one I thought you were beautiful.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her back to him. “I want to do something.”