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Lauren closed the door and ran to the bed. She scooped up all the photographs except for the few shed chosen, and dumped them back in the box, which she shoved under the bed. Then she gathered up her two disposable cameras and hid them in the nightstand drawer. Once all the evidence was taken care of, she dressed in her old flare-leg Target jeans, a black wool turtleneck sweater, and her fur-trimmed coat.
Downstairs, Angie was waiting. She looked beautiful in a forest green wool dress with black boots and a black cape. Her long dark hair was the very best kind of mess. It made her look hip.
"You look great," Lauren said.
"You, too. Now come on. "
They went out to the car and got in. All the way to town they chatted. Not about anything important; just ordinary life.
By the time they reached Front Street, the traffic was bumper to bumper.
"I cant believe all these people are out on Christmas Eve," Lauren said.
"Its the final tree-lighting ceremony. "
"Oh," Lauren said, not quite understanding what all the hype was about. Shed lived in this town for years and never been to one of these ceremonies. Shed always had to work on weekends and holidays. David had told her it was "okay," but he hadnt been in years, either.
"Too many people" was his parents excuse.
Angie found a parking spot and pulled in.
The minute she got out of the car, Lauren heard the first sound of Christmas: Bells. Every church in town was pealing its bells. Somewhere nearby a horse-drawn carriage was moving along; she could hear the clip-clop of the hooves and the jangling of harness bells.
In the town square, dozens--maybe hundreds--of tourists were milling about, moving from one store to the next, collecting in front of the booths that sold everything from hot cocoa to rum cake to candy canes. The Rotary Club was roasting chestnuts by the flagpole.
"Angela!" Marias voice rang out above the crowd.
The next thing Lauren knew, she was swept into the DeSaria family. Everyone was talking at once, telling jokes, holding hands. They moved from booth to booth, eating every morsel that was offered and buying bags of whatever they couldnt eat on the spot. Lauren saw dozens of school friends moving through the crowd with their families. For once she felt as if she were a part of things instead of on the outside, looking in.
"Its time," Mira said at last. As if on cue, the family stopped. In fact, the whole town seemed to freeze.
The lights went out. Darkness clicked into place. Suddenly the stars overhead were stunning. An air of anticipation moved through the crowd. Angie took Laurens hand in hers, squeezed it gently.
The Christmas lights came on. Hundreds of thousands of them, all at once.
Lauren gasped.
Magic.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Angie said.
"Yeah. " Laurens throat felt tight.
They spent another hour in the square, and then walked to church for midnight mass, which in this day and age took place at ten. Lauren almost started to cry when she entered the church with Angie at her side. It was just like her little girls dream; she could easily pretend that Angie was her mother. After the service, the DeSarias split up, each going their separate ways.
Angie and Lauren walked through the crowd, pointing out things to each other along the way. By the time they reached the car, it had started to snow. They drove home slowly. The flakes were huge and airy. They fell lazily to earth.
Lauren couldnt remember the last time shed seen a white Christmas. Rain was much more the holiday norm.
On Miracle Mile Road, the snow was sticking. It coated the tree limbs and dusted the roadside. The yard lay hidden beneath a blanket of sparkling white.
"I wonder if well be able to go sledding tomorrow," she said, bouncing up and down in her seat. She knew she was acting like a little kid but she couldnt help it. "Or maybe we could make snow angels. I saw that on television once. Hey, whos that?"
He was standing at the front door of Angies house in a wedge of golden light. A veil of falling snow obscured his face.
The car stopped.
Lauren peered through the windshield.
He stepped down from the porch, came closer.
And suddenly Lauren knew. The man in the worn Levis and black leather jacket was Conlan. She turned to Angie, whose eyes looked huge in her pale face.
"Is that him?"
Angie nodded. "Thats my Conlan. "
"Wow" was all Lauren could say. He looked like Pierce Brosnan. She got out of the car.
He came toward her, his shoes crunching on the gravel driveway. "You must be Lauren. "
His voice was low and rumbly, as if maybe hed smoked or drank too much when he was young.
Lauren fought the urge to flinch. He had the bluest eyes shed ever seen and they seemed to penetrate her to the bone. He seemed angry with her. "I am. "
"Conlan," Angie said breathlessly, coming up beside him.
He didnt look at Angie. His gaze was steady on Lauren. "I came to meet you. "
TWENTY-SIX
HE WAS TRYING TO KEEP HIS DISTANCE FROM Lauren; Angie could tell. He wore his reporter detachment like a suit of armor, as if a few patches of hammered together metal could protect a mans heart. He sat stiffly upright at the head of the table, shuffling cards. Theyd been playing Hearts for the last hour, talking almost the whole time, although Angie wouldnt characterize it as conversation. An interrogation was more apt.
"And youve applied to colleges?" Conlan asked as he dealt the next hand. He didnt look at Lauren. It was, Angie knew, an old reporters trick. Dont look; theyll think its a casual question, one you dont care about.
"Yes," Lauren answered without looking up from her cards.
"Where?"
"USC. Pepperdine. Stanford. Berkeley. UW. UCLA. "
"Do you still think college is an option?"
The reference to the baby made Angie look up sharply from her cards.
Laurens gaze was surprisingly direct. It was clear that shed decided enough was enough. "Im going to college. "
"Itll be hard," he said, pulling out cards to pass.
"I dont mean to be rude, Mr. Malone," Lauren said, her voice taking on strength, "but life is always hard. I got a scholarship to Fircrest because I never gave up. Ill get a scholarship to college for the same reason. Whatever I have to do, Ill do. "
"Do you have any relatives to help?"
"Angie is helping me. "
"What about your own family?"
Lauren answered quietly, "Im alone. "
Poor Conlan. Angie watched him melt, right there at the head of the table with the cards in his hands. The reporter face gave way, leaving behind the sad, lined face of a man who was worried.
Angie could tell he was trying to back away from the emotion hed stirred up, but he was caught, trapped by the tears in a girls eyes. He cleared his throat. "Angie tells me youre interested in journalism. " There it was: higher ground.
Lauren nodded. She led with the two of diamonds. "Yes. "
Conlan played the king. "Maybe youd like to come to work with me someday. I could introduce you to some of the people there; let you see how reporters work. "
When she looked back on it, Angie saw how everything had changed in that moment. The interrogation vanished, leaving in its place a mini-party. For the next hour, they talked and laughed and played cards. Conlan told a series of funny work stories about stupid criminals. Angie and Lauren relayed some of their cookie-making mishaps.
At around ten oclock, the phone rang. It was David, calling from Aspen. Lauren took the phone upstairs.
Conlan turned to Angie. She wasnt sure, but she thought it was the first time hed dared to look at her.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
"Its Christmas Eve. Youre my family. "
She wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but she felt awkward, unsure. After all those years of living and loving together, they were separate
now. "Habit isnt enough," she said softly.
"No. "
"Is it a start?"
Before he could answer, Lauren bounded back into the room, smiling brightly, looking like a girl with her whole life in front of her. "He misses me," she said, sliding into her seat and scooting up to the table.
Angie and Conlan immediately went back to playing cards. For the next hour, they all talked about things that didnt matter.
It was the best night Angie had had in years. So much so that when midnight came and Lauren announced that she was going to bed, Angie actually tried to talk her out of it. She didnt want this evening to end.
"Ange," Conlan said, "let the poor girl go to bed. Its late. How can Santa come if shes not asleep?"
Lauren laughed. It was a young, girlish sound full of hope. It did Angies heart good to hear it. "Well, good night," Lauren said, surging toward Angie, hugging her. "Merry Christmas," she whispered. When she drew back she added, "This was my best Christmas Eve ever. " Then she flashed a smile at Conlan and left the room.
Angie sat back in her chair. With Lauren gone, the room felt too quiet.
"How are you going to make it through her pregnancy?" Conlan asked the question gently, as if the words caused him pain. "How will you handle watching her belly grow and feeling the baby kick and shopping for onesies?"
"It will hurt. "
"Yes. "
Her gaze was steady, even if her voice wasnt. "Not being there for her would hurt more. "
"Weve been through this before. "
Angie thought about that, about them. Theyd played cards with Sarah Dekker, too, and watched television with her and bought her new clothes. But it had always been the unborn child that connected them. "No," she finally said. "Not this. "
"Hope always came easily to you, Angie. It was part of what ruined us. You dont know how to give up. "
"Hope was all I had. "
"No. You had me. "
The truth of it settled heavily on her heart. "Lets not look in the rearview mirror tonight. I love you. Can that be enough for now?"
"For tonight, you mean?"
She nodded. "Alcoholics take one day at a time. Maybe old lovers can do the same thing. "
At that, he leaned toward her, put his hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him. Their gazes met; hers was overbright with unshed tears, his was dark with worry.
He kissed her. It was everything she needed, that kiss, and more than shed imagined. The next thing she knew, he had her in his arms and was carrying her up the stairs. He started to go to Angies old bedroom.
She laughed. "The big bedroom. Were the grown-ups now. "
He pivoted, pushed through the door, and kicked it shut behind him.
THE NEXT MORNING WHEN ANGIE WOKE UP, HER WHOLE body ached. She rolled onto her side and snuggled up to Conlan, kissing his stubbled jawline. "Merry Christmas," she murmured, moving her hand along his naked chest.
He blinked awake. "Merry Christmas. "
For what seemed an eternity, she gazed at him, her nipples pressed against his chest, her body ripe with a longing so sharp and sweet it hurt. She could feel their hearts beating together again. When she kissed him, it was with everything she had, all the good times and the bad and the in-between. It was a kiss that peeled back the hard layer of years and made her feel young again, carefree and hopeful.
The Things We Do for Love Page 41
