Love Takes Flight

by Jane Peart

  Two hours later, they sat at a table in The Peasant Uptown, a charming restaurant delightfully decorated in green and white, with latticed chairs and hanging plants. Pots of red and white poinsettias were massed at the entrance and along one wall. The eatery was a refreshing oasis from the hustle and bustle of the shopping center.

  “You’re incredible,” Tyler told Robbie, shaking his head. “I’d still be wandering around in that mall like a rat in a maze. I can’t believe we got everything accomplished in such a short time.”

  Robbie affected a brisk, professional manner and replied, “Our service thrives on satisfied customers such as yourself, sir. I just hope you’ll give others your recommendation.”

  Tyler smiled but continued, “Seriously, you could go into business doing this sort of thing! I know a dozen men who would be willing to pay good money for relief from this chore. Taking you to lunch, however, I consider my bonus!” He leaned across the table and said, “How come you’re so smart and so pretty, too?”

  Robbie’s face colored, making her lovelier than ever. She was grateful that their order arrived at that moment. She took a bite of her sandwich and said, “This is delicious repayment. Hardly seems fair to get treated for doing something I enjoy. Besides, I love spending other people’s money!”

  Tyler took out a rumpled piece of paper and a ballpoint pen and started checking off items. “Let’s see—the candlesticks for Aunt Louise, the cosmetic bag for my cousin Jan, deerskin slippers for Uncle Jim, sweater for Ellen, my niece—what did we get for my sister and her husband? Oh, right! The ‘Toby’ coffee mugs.” Tyler finished checking off the list with a flourish. After pocketing his pen he grinned broadly. “I feel like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Now what shall we do with the rest of the afternoon?”

  Impulsively Robbie suggested, “What about iceskating?”

  Tyler’s eyes lighted up. “Great idea! Come on, let’s go.”

  They drove across the city to the indoor skating rink and were soon skimming the glazed surface with the ease of skaters who had often skated together. Holding hands, cross-armed, they circled the frozen arena several times, enjoying the feel of their runners cutting into the ice.

  “Hey, you didn’t tell me you were another Dorothy Hamill,” Tyler said after a few spins around the rink.

  “It’s one of my well-kept secrets,” she retorted.

  “I’m discovering new things about you all the time,” Tyler said with a kind of puzzled edge to his voice.

  “That’s what makes life interesting, don’t you think? You believe you know all there is to know about someone, and then suddenly you find a whole new facet of his personality that you hadn’t even suspected.”

  “I think that’s what you tried to tell me in Bermuda, wasn’t it? That first time we went out together I wanted to find out all about you at once. You thought I was moving ahead too fast, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe,” Robbie replied noncommittally. She was not yet ready to tell Tyler all the reservations she had about getting involved with him.

  “I think you were right. Too much too soon can ruin a relationship. It’s probably better to build a foundation for friendship that can lead to—” he stopped and suddenly whirled her into a spin, very carefully, very expertly, and they began skating backward, doing a few intricate steps.

  Afterwards Robbie thought maybe that had been a clever maneuver on Tyler’s part—a tactic to avoid letting down his guard. She was sure she knew the logical ending to what he was saying—a foundation for friendship that can lead to falling in love.

  Even with all he obviously thought and felt about her, Tyler was not ready to speak of love. Nor was Robbie ready to make a similar declaration.

  As they sat on the side benches unlacing their skates after an hour of skating, Tyler said, “I’m hungry again. How about having dinner with me? I know a fantastic country-style restaurant, and it’s a nice drive.”

  “All we seem to do when I’m with you is eat!” laughed Robbie. “What are you trying to do? Ply me with food?”

  “Whatever it takes,” Tyler’s eyes twinkled.

  They left the skating rink and walked out into the bright winter sunshine to Tyler’s parked car.

  After the long stretch of chill, damp weather, the day seemed gloriously bright and clear. Even in late afternoon the sky was a brilliant blue. Tyler had pressed the button to roll back the car’s top. Robbie breathed in the tangy scent of the air and enjoyed the crisp snap of wind blowing back her hair as the open car zoomed along the interstate.

  After they had left the freeway and were driving along the less traveled country roads, they saw that there were still fall colors on some of the trees flanking the old highway. Robbie felt absurdly young and free and happy.

  As they drove along, Tyler suddenly looked over at her with a puzzled smile and declared, “You know, I haven’t spent this much time with the same girl since I was in college. You must be something special.”

  At his words, Robbie felt her heart take flight like a balloon soaring into the sky. She could not think of anything to say, so she just looked back at him. He reached over and took her hand, releasing it only to shift gears.

  Some time later, Tyler swerved off onto a side road, and they drove a little farther on what appeared to be a winding private driveway. At the end stood a sprawling white clapboard and stone farmhouse with a circling verandah etched against the December sky. “This is it!” he said, stopping the car.

  “It looks like somebody’s grandmother’s house,” Robbie remarked. “I love it!”

  “Good! Wait until you taste the food!”

  Out of the sun it felt suddenly cold. Robbie shivered in spite of her wool plaid pants suit and deep green sweater. Tyler put his arm around her shoulders as they walked up to the house. “You’ll be warm in a minute,” he promised.

  He was right. Once they stepped inside they were enveloped by the cozy warmth of the place. A smiling hostess led them into a room where a welcoming fire burned merrily in a stone fireplace with a raised hearth. A large comfortable sofa was drawn up in front of it.

  “We can have our drinks in here,” Tyler said. “Two hot spiced ciders,” he told the hostess. He looked at Robbie, lifted one eyebrow and grinned. “See what a good influence you are?” In the coppery glow from the firelight, Tyler’s eyes seemed to soften as they rested on Robbie for a long moment.

  With their cider in hand, they surveyed the menu. Since dinner was served “farm style,” they had their choice of one of three entrées. The rest of the meal consisted of vegetables in season, rice, hot biscuits, cornbread, salad, and homemade pies á la mode.

  “My grandmother never served such a menu!” exclaimed Robbie, remembering her remark about the place looking like somebody’s grandmother’s house. “Did yours?”

  “No.” Tyler shook his head. “In fact, my grandmother didn’t cook very well at all.”

  They both laughed and then sat watching the fire in a kind of companionable contentment, until their waitress came to say their dinner was ready to be served.

  Tyler put down his cider, took Robbie’s hand, and said, “This has been a very special day.” She looked up into his fine, lean face searchingly. His expression was serious as he returned her intent gaze. Was this, after all, a man she could trust—trust with her heart, her love, her life?

  They lingered over coffee after dinner, but their conversation was sporadic. It kept drifting off distractedly as they looked into each other’s eyes over the flickering light of the small hurricane lamp on the table. Time seemed magically suspended and unhurried.

  Tyler reached across the table and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips. “Happy?” he asked her.

  “Yes.” Robbie nodded, her heart too full to add that she felt happier than she could ever remember.

  At last, Tyler regretfully mentioned that he had an early flight the next day and it was time to go.

  “Wait a minute,” he said to Robbie
before they went outside. “I’ll be right back.”

  He came back carrying his sheepskin-lined suede car coat. “It’s such a beautiful night, I thought we’d leave the top down—that is, if you won’t be too cold. I brought this to wrap you up in.” He grinned. “It will swallow you, but it will keep you snug and warm.”

  He had an extra sweater for himself in the car. As she snuggled into the seat beside him, with the wooly collar turned up over her ears, Robbie’s spirits were high. With Tyler there was always some unexpected experience.

  The powerful motor of the sports car purred as they started back to town. Robbie put her head back against the leather seat and gazed up at the clear winter sky far overhead. It was a dark velvet infinity sprinkled with thousands of stars glistening like sequins.

  Their goodnight was brief, ending with a light kiss. As Tyler ran down the steps from the little deck of Robbie’s new apartment, he called back, “I’ll call you!”

  And this time she was sure he would.

  Robbie got ready for bed slowly, almost dreamily. She sensed that today had been a sort of turning point. She and Tyler had spent hours together, and it had been wonderful—no strain, no pressure, no tension. Who would have imagined it?

  All she had heard about him before she met him, and then her own bad impression, gradually had faded and been proven untrue as she had come to know him.

  He had told her she was “special.” What did being “special” mean to someone like Tyler Lang? Was this all just the novelty of a new challenge for him? He made a girl feel that there was no one else in the room—in the world, for that matter. He was dangerously seductive. It would be so easy to believe she really was special to him—easy to fall in love with him. But it had been easy for other girls before her.

  Robbie brushed her hair vigorously until her scalp tingled. With each stroke she told herself that it would be a mistake for her to take everything that Tyler said seriously. Foolish to think he was not playing his familiar line as cleverly with her as he had with others. Maybe for some girls it would not be so important. But for her, given what she knew she wanted in a relationship, it would be a terrible mistake.

  And I’m not going to make that mistake, Robbie told herself. I’d better back off a little—not accept the next date. It’s all going too fast too soon.

  She opened the bedroom window and stood breathing in the sharp, cold night air and looking out at the still star-studded sky. It had been a magical evening, but she could not let herself be fooled by T. J. Lang’s brand of magic.

  Chapter Ten

  In the next few days Robbie discovered that slowing down the momentum of a romance is easier said than done. On the Monday after their Christmas shopping excursion, an enormous crimson poinsettia plant from Tyler was delivered. She opened the card and smiled as she read his enclosed note.

  When she phoned to thank him he said, “I was going to send you a Partridge in a Pear Tree, but I couldn’t figure how to manage the Lords a’ Leaping and the Maids a’ Milking.”

  Robbie giggled. “Thank goodness for that. How would I ever explain all that commotion to my landlady?”

  “I’ve always tried to figure out how that legendary fellow did it anyway. And what did his true love do with all that loot after it arrived?” Tyler went on. “By the way, did I thank you for your expertise in dissolving all my Christmas problems? I woke up Sunday morning wondering why I felt so good, and then I remembered why.”

  “Yes, you did thank me—more than adequately, and the poinsettia is really lovely,” Robbie told him.

  “By the way, since you love ballet, would you be interested in seeing The Nutcracker? There’s a matinee on the twenty-fourth.”

  “Oh, Tyler, I thought you knew I’m scheduled to fly on the twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth, and twenty-sixth,” Robbie said regretfully.

  “You are? I get in the night of the twenty-third. I thought maybe we could spend Christmas Eve—at least a part of it—together.” There was genuine disappointment in his voice.

  “Will you be here for Christmas?” she asked.

  “No. Actually, I’m planning to fly down to Florida the evening of the twenty-fourth. We’re—my family— spending Christmas with my grandmother. I’m not sure she wants us, but my mother insists we go. She called and reminded me Gran will be seventy-two next year and you never know! Of course, that’s what Mom always says. Last year she laid on the guilt by saying Gran would be seventy-one! Robbie, my grandmother is the youngest person in our entire family! I mean it. She swims every day, rides a bike, and has a very active social life. I predict Gran will outlive us all. And who knows? We may be ruining some plans she has of her own for the holiday when we arrive en masse.”

  “Oh, maybe not. Don’t you think she’ll enjoy it?”

  “I guess so. We’ll all probably eat too much and sit around watching a football game on TV. My brother-in-law and Dad are sports nuts—that is spectator sports nuts. I’ll try to get in some surfing. But it’s not much of a way to spend Christmas.”

  When she hung up Robbie thought there had been some hidden element in their conversation, something she could not quite put her finger on, something in Tyler’s tone of voice. It was almost as if he wanted her to suggest some way for them to be together. It kept nagging at her for definition. She tried to dismiss it as her imagination. Surely, the plans she had for the next few days would seem corny to the sophisticated T.J. Lang.

  Robbie loved Christmas more than any other holiday. She enjoyed everything about it, the undercurrent of excitement, the dazzling displays in store windows, the lights, decorations, and the music. She even liked the things other people found chores—the shopping, sending cards, searching for just the right gifts. She had grown up in a home with cherished holiday traditions, and even when she could not make it home for Christmas, she clung to the well-loved rituals.

  Robbie did most of her actual shopping on layovers, but she saved the wrapping to do all at once while she listened to familiar carols on her stereo or radio. Her mood of anticipation started early and grew steadily the closer Christmas came.

  Since she had to fly on the holiday itself, the few days beforehand she spent doing the things she most enjoyed. One morning she went browsing in the mini-Mall not far from her apartment. Although she didn’t like the panic of last-minute shopping, she liked mingling in the holiday crowds, gazing at the gorgeous gift arrays in the stores, and experiencing the sights and sounds of Christmas in the air.

  As she walked through the arcade of the Mall and heard the carillon playing, mixed with the ringing of the Salvation Army bell and the happy voices of children lined up for a visit with the department store Santa, Robbie felt caught up in the whole atmosphere of this special time of year. The only thing missing was someone to share it with, and for a minute she had a little twinge of loneliness.

  She wandered through a card-and-candle shop picking out special gift tags for each member of her family and then selected several rolls of colorful wrapping paper, ribbons of various colors, stickers and tape. She could not choose between two fragrantly scented candles and ended up buying both.

  On her way home Robbie passed the Community Church and heard the ringing voices of their choir rehearsing for the Christmas services. She slipped inside and found a seat in one of the back pews of the darkened interior. Only the choir loft was lighted, and as the sounds of “O Holy Night” rose in majesty and power, Robbie felt a little tingle along her spine. “A thrill of Hope, the weary world rejoices…” The triumphant words rang high into the raftered ceiling and filled Robbie with a joyous and childlike expectancy at this celebration of Christ’s birth.

  Christmas is such a wonderful time, she thought. Christmas alone or Christmas, flying, it didn’t make any difference, she was going to celebrate it with a full heart!

  She had not planned to have a tree, but impulsively she decided to buy one on her way home. After all, it was her first Christmas in her very own place, and she could have any ki
nd of Christmas she chose—and she chose to have an old-fashioned one.

  Robbie drove to the nursery and picked a small shapely pine already attached to a stand. When she placed it in the corner of her tiny living room she felt festive rather than foolish. She would trim it with strings of popcorn, cranberries and homemade cookies!

  Just as she had finished getting out the ingredients for sugar cookies, a knock came at her front door.

  It was Mrs. Holmes, and when Robbie opened the door for her Cyrano slipped into the apartment, meowing loudly and rubbing against Robbie’s legs.

  Mrs. Holmes clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Naughty cat! He was just waiting for his chance. You see I’m going away to spend Christmas with my sister in Decatur, and he always seems to sense when I’m leaving. Thinks he’ll find himself another place to stay.”

  Robbie bent down and scooped Cyrano up in her arms, nuzzling her chin against his soft, furry head.

  “He’s welcome, Mrs. Holmes. Although I’ll be away myself most of Christmas Eve, all day Christmas and part of the next day. But it’s okay for now.”

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Mrs. Holmes said doubtfully. “I have one of those automatic feeding stations for my cats for both their food and water, so they have everything they need. And I’ll only be gone overnight…”

  “It will be fine for Cyrano to stay here, really!” Robbie assured her as Cyrano began to purr contentedly.

  “I’ve brought you one of my fruitcakes, Robbie,". Mrs. Holmes said handing her a package wrapped in shiny green cellophane topped with a sprig of holly. “I hope you’ll have a Merry Christmas, dear.”

  “You, too, Mrs. Holmes. Have a nice time with your sister, and thanks very much for the fruitcake,” Robbie called after her as she went down the porch steps.