Celebration

by Fern Michaels

  “Shit!”

  The kitchen door opened and closed. Woodie stumbled his way through the dining room and out to the kitchen. “You take one more fucking step, and you’ll be picking these shotgun shells out of your teeth,” he roared.

  “Woodie, it’s me, Pete! Put that damn gun down before you shoot someone. Is it loaded?”

  “Yeah, it’s loaded. D’ya think I’m stupid?”

  “Hell, yes, I think you’re stupid. I don’t like guns, and I particularly don’t like drunks with guns,” Pete said in a jittery voice, his feet rooted to the floor.

  “Then what the hell are you doing here?” Woodie said, leaning the gun in the corner.

  “Don’t you have to do something to that gun? Put a safety on it or uncock it or something?” Pete asked, his face full of worry.

  “I already did that. I told you I wasn’t stupid. Kristine thinks I’m stupid, but I’m not.”

  “Kristine doesn’t think any such thing. She’s miserable. As miserable as you look. What’s all this stuff?” Pete asked, waving his arm about.

  “This is liquor. This is macaroni and cheese. This pot has noodle soup in it. This is tuna fish with little green things in it. This plate is full of Spam. I don’t know what to do with it. This is baked beans, the kind that has a cube of something white in it. And this is ... hell, I don’t know what it is. It’s my Christmas dinner.”

  “I think it’s succotash. I hate succotash,” Pete said.

  “I hate succotash, too,” Woodie said, his head bobbing up and down. “Want a drink? Christmas holidays and all. How’d you get here?”

  “On one of the snowmobiles you bought for Kristine for Christmas. Don’t you remember? They came yesterday morning before all hell broke loose. I hid them in the old barn.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So, do you want the drink or not? We need to toast old Logan and his return.”

  “I’ll take the drink, but I’m not making a toast to Logan or anyone else. You need to stop torturing yourself. It’s not Kristine’s fault her husband came back. She wanted to kick him out. So did the kids. However, when someone is dying, that’s kind of hard to do. Even though you’re drunk, you should understand that.”

  “Well, I don’t. She won’t marry me. She put me on hold. Do you got that? Me, she put on hold. Maybe later I’ll be good enough to marry, but not now because Logan has to come first. That should tell you something, Pete Calloway.”

  “It tells me Kristine has emotions and decency. She’s trying to do the right thing so that when . . . when the end comes, she can hold up her head and know she did the right thing.”

  “She can still do the right thing and marry me. We could live here. She could go to the farm every day. I don’t begrudge her taking care of her ex-husband. I don’t, Pete. I’m not good enough to marry. I’m an ... interference. Are you going to eat this crap or not?”

  “No.”

  “Then why’d I cook it?” Woodie grumbled.

  “To have something to do while you were drinking, I guess,” Pete said.

  “Maureen called me. Guess what old Stedman gave her for Christmas besides the French villa?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Pete said.

  Woodie leaned over the table, his eyes popping from his head. “He gave her a diamond belt. Ya wear it when you’re nakid! Whad’ya think of that?”

  “I’m impressed.” Pete grinned.

  “Me too. She’s coming out here to model it for me. Whad’ya think of that?”

  “I’m really impressed. Are you going to wear the yellow Calvins or the blue Speedo?”

  “Smart-ass. You sound like Kristine. I don’t like her today.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just came out to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “What are you going to do, Woodie?”

  “I’m-going-to-Tibet!”

  “No shit!”

  “Yep. I might get a cat, too.”

  “That’s pretty far. Tibet isn’t around the corner. You gonna seek out the Dalai Lama?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’ll ask Maureen if I can stay in her French villa. She said a part of her will always love me. Kristine never said that.”

  “That’s because the whole of her loves you, not just a part of her. I have to get back to the farm. It’s almost time to take the dogs out. You need some coffee and a nap. How about if I make you some coffee and tuck you in?”

  “The best man won, Pete,” Woodie said as he flopped down on one of the kitchen chairs.

  “That’s not true, Woodie. You’re the best man. Listen. This is just a temporary setback. Look, I’m going to come back here tomorrow when you’re sober and talk sense to you. We can work this out. I don’t want to see you or Kristine throw away something you’ll both regret.”

  “Call first. I might have company.”

  “No one comes out to this godforsaken place.”

  “Maureen will. She knows where it is. You can tell Kristine that, too.”

  “Okay, big guy, the coffee is perking. I’m putting all this liquor back in the cabinet. Promise me you won’t drink any more.”

  “No, no. When I make a promise, I keep it. I might want to drink some more later. After I eat this feast. What are those green things in the tuna?”

  “It looks like leaves from the plant over the sink. Parsley?”

  “Yeah, maybe it’s parsley. Are you going to tell Kristine I love her?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Nah. Are you going to tell her I’m going to Tibet?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Nah. How about Maureen?”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna tell her about the belt.”

  “You are!” Woodie reared up in his chair. “Why?”

  “It’s important.” Pete grinned.

  “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t know they made things like that.”

  “I didn’t either. Isn’t it great the way we learn something new every day? Okay, here’s your coffee. Come on, I’ll help you into the living room and put the television on for you. Are you going to be okay, Woodie?”

  “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

  “I’ll come back later. Now drink that coffee.”

  Woodie took one swallow before he set the cup on the end table. He leaned his head back into the softness of the sofa cushions. Moments later he started to snore.

  Pete went up to the second floor for a blanket. He removed Woodie’s shoes, straightened out the lanky form, covered it, then turned off the television. He checked the fire and adjusted the fire screen.

  In the kitchen, he unplugged the coffeepot and threw dish towels over the array of food on the table and counter. He felt like crying when he went outside in the cold air. Sometimes life just got in the way of life.

  Pete arrived back at the farm just in time to help with the dogs.

  “I was wondering where you were,” Kristine said.

  “You know me. I couldn’t wait to try out your new snowmobile. I gotta tell you, Kristine, it was a blast.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I went over to check on Woodie. He’s drunk. I made him some coffee and put him to bed on the couch. He’s going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Actually he said a lot. You know drunks. They talk a lot. I didn’t mean . . .”

  “No offense taken. What did he say, Pete?”

  “If I tell you, you won’t like it.”

  “Try me,” Kristine said.

  “His ex-wife is in Washington and she called to wish him a Merry Christmas. It seems her husband gave her a diamond belt for Christmas, the kind ya wear when you’re nakid. She’s coming out to model it for him. If you’re planning on going over there, call first. That’s what he told me to do.”

  Kristine stomped into the house, her face murderous.

  “It was my best shot, Woodie,” Pete murmured as he followed Kristine into the house.

  “It was a great dinner, Mom,
” Tyler said.

  “I’ll help clear up, but first I want to put the kids to bed. Both of them are out on their feet,” Cala said.

  “Take your time; Mike and I will clean up,” Carol said.

  “I’m going to fix a plate for your father,” Kristine said with an edge in her voice. She waited to see what her children would say to that. They ignored her comment and went about their business.

  “I can take it over if you want me to,” Jack said.

  “It’s okay, Jack. I need to talk to Logan to straighten out a few things.”

  Pete poured fresh coffee into his cup. “All things considered, it’s been a great Christmas, Kristine. It’s amazing how the animals adapted. My biggest worry is when their owners pick up their pets after the new year that they’re going to want to be pulled around in a red wagon. How are we going to explain that?”

  Kristine smiled. “Look at it this way, it’s a service we provide. They can bring them back anytime and I’m sure Emily and Ellie will oblige. For a fee of course.”

  “Now why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because Mom’s the brains,” Cala said, tossing him a dish towel. “Are you coming up to say good night, Pete?”

  “As soon as I finish my coffee.”

  Kristine arranged everything on Logan’s plate in neat little sections. Pete watched her with clinical interest. “That’s rather tidy, Kristine.”

  Kristine looked down at the plate. “It’s the way Logan always ate. Nothing touched anything else. If it did, he would toss it out.” She ripped off a piece of tin foil when she saw Pete’s jaw drop.

  “You fixed his plate?”

  Kristine clenched her teeth. “Yes.”

  “Cala would boot mv butt out the door if I asked her to do that. What did you do if he tossed out a plate?”

  Kristine unlocked her jaw. “Made another one.”

  “Uh-huh,” Pete said.

  “You don’t understand,” Kristine said lamely.

  “You’re right. I don’t. Please don’t explain it to me either, okay?”

  Kristine yanked at the aluminum foil and dumped the contents of the plate into the trash. A minute later she tossed food onto the same plate any old way. She slopped gravy onto the mess, dusted it all with salt and pepper before she crunched the same foil around the plate. “Satisfied?”

  “Hey, this is none of my business. I have to say good night to my kids,” Pete said, heading up the back stairway.

  Jack Valarian’s pitying look almost drove Kristine to tears. Carol refused to meet her gaze. Tyler bent over to tie his shoelace, and Mike shook out a clean trash bag as he danced around Gracie and Slick.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Outside in the cold air, Kristine followed the shoveled path. She must be crazy to be doing this. She’d always been crazy where Logan was concerned. She needed her wits about her.

  She didn’t bother to knock, but kicked at the door with one foot to announce her arrival, then opened the door. “I brought you some dinner. You better eat it now before it gets cold.”

  “That was nice of you, Kristine. What is it?”

  “Prime rib, mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetables, salad, and plum pudding.”

  Logan folded back the aluminum foil. “Did you fall on your way over?”

  “No. Why?”

  “It’s all messed up. I can’t eat this.”

  “That’s a shame. That’s right, you like little spaces between your food. How could I have forgotten something so important?” She watched as Logan set the plate aside. He picked up a chunk of cheese and nibbled at it. She shrugged. “Your loss, Logan, it was a good dinner.”

  “Sit down, Kristine. Do you want to talk?”

  “Actually, Logan, no, I do not want to talk. By that I mean I don’t want us to have a conversation. I volunteered to bring dinner over to you because I wanted to tell you something. I plan . . . planned on getting married New Year’s Day. Now that you’re here, I will postpone it until . . . a more . . . later when it’s warm. I thought you should know.”

  “You’re getting married!” Kristine smiled at the shock on her ex-husband’s face. “How can you do that? Are you saying you’ve been having an affair? Who is it? Kristine, I cannot believe you would do that to me. You’ve been carrying on with someone behind my back?”

  Kristine stared in awe at Logan. If he wasn’t so serious, so shocked, she wouldn’t have laughed. She doubled over, howling with mirth. “You are absolutely unbelievable. You really are.”

  Logan found his voice. “Who is it, Kristine? I think I have a right to know that.”

  “You have no rights where I’m concerned, Logan. However, I don’t mind telling you. It’s Aaron Dunwoodie.”

  “Woodie. He was always a stuffed shirt. I bet he has a paunch and is half-bald. Woodie!”

  Kristine laughed. “Wrong. He’s taller than you, full head of hair, all his own teeth, one-eighty without an ounce of fat, and he’s so virile he makes my head spin. Eat your dinner, Logan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No, no, it doesn’t work that way, Kristine. You stay right here and explain all of this to me. I can’t believe you turned into a slut!”

  Kristine whirled around so fast Logan stepped backward but not in time to ward off the resounding slap she centered on his puffing cheek. “If you ever make a remark like that about me or to me again, I will personally slice off your prick while you’re sleeping. Are we clear on that, Logan? You aren’t answering me. Are we clear on that?”

  “You struck me! Jesus Christ, Kristine, what’s gotten into you. I don’t know you anymore.”

  “That’s true, Logan, you don’t know me anymore. You never knew me. And, pay attention to this, you aren’t going to get to know me now at this point in time. Good night, Logan. Sleep well.”

  “Kristine, wait. I’m sorry. You can’t just throw something like that at me and expect me to ... to say congratulations. You shocked the hell out of me. I need to know more. I need to digest what you said.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s my business, not yours. You can digest and dissect this all night long after I leave. You really should eat your dinner, Logan. It was very good. I’d heat it in the oven, though. It must be cold by now.”

  “Kristine, wait.”

  “I can’t, Logan. My family is waiting for me.”

  Kristine zipped up her down jacket. It was clear and cold, the sky star-spangled. She drew the drawstring on the hood tight as she trudged around to the front of the house. Christmas was almost over. She sat down on the front steps, her hands jammed into her pockets.

  How could Logan talk to her like that? Was she supposed to make allowances for him because he was dying. Had he always been that inconsiderate, that cruel? Of course he had, and she’d put up with it. Tonight she’d shown her backbone, though.

  Too much too little too late.

  20

  “The daffodils are about to bloom. I guess we can count on spring arriving a little early this year,” Pete said, his gaze sweeping around the backyard.

  “It’s about time,” Kristine said. “This past winter was a horror. We survived, though. I’m very excited that Mike and Carol will be here by Easter. Dillon should be walking by now. Actually, he is toddling around, Carol said. And he’s into everything. Business is great. They’re going to start on the new barns as soon as the ground warms up. By summer we’ll be up to speed. I’m up to four pages on my waiting list. It warms my heart. I heard in town a few weeks ago that Taylor’s toy store had a run on red wagons. Mr. Taylor personally thanked me,” Kristine’s voice was so flat-sounding that Pete blinked.

  “We’re dancing around this, Kristine. Talk to me about Woodie and Logan. I don’t like the way you’re acting. It’s almost as though you’re a robot just going through the motions.”

  “There’s nothing to say, Pete. I heard in town that Woodie is doing some consulting work at the bank. He hasn’t called. I’ve called him, but I always get the
machine. I leave messages, but he doesn’t return them. Maybe he’s seeing his ex-wife. Before you can ask, of course I miss him, and, yes, I still love him. I’ve come to the conclusion that if it’s meant to be, it will be. As for Logan, we are civil. I inquire about his treatments. He’s helped me a little with the books. He clears up after dinner. One evening we even sat on the back porch and talked. We didn’t discuss anything important. Mostly it was the weather, what kind of summer we’ll have, putting a new roof on, things like that. He was quite pleasant. He’s never said another word about Woodie.”

  “Jack Valarian?”

  “I think Jack is about ready to give up on me. Logan has been looking at the records and he found stuff Jack and I missed. You’re going to find this hard to believe but it was Logan’s ancestors who were the big slave traders, not mine. Somehow Jack mixed up some of the records. In the end it doesn’t really matter which side of the family did it. We’re going to make it right. Logan is agreeable to it all. He said he didn’t want to go to his Maker with that on his conscience. So, some good has come of all this—by this, I mean his return. He even volunteered to input all the records and files into a computer. He ordered one last week. It should be set up today or tomorrow. He also hired a handyman to clear out the storage room so he can move into it. He’s having trouble with the stairs. He said he doesn’t sleep well at night, so he might as well work at the computer to keep himself busy. I hesitate to say this, but he isn’t the same old Logan I used to know.”

  “I saw you going for a walk the other day,” Pete said sourly.

  “I went for a walk. I go for a walk every day. That particular day, Logan tagged along. He didn’t get far. I went ahead and picked him up on the way back. If you have something to say, Pete, then say it.”

  “I just did. I’m sorry, Kristine, but I don’t like your ex-husband. I never did, and I don’t see any point in pretending I do. I stayed on here because of you.”