Bright Copper Kettles
Page 9
“It’s getting late.” Mom kissed his cheek. “Do you really think it was the actor who starred in that new Steve McQueen remake?”
Dean shrugged.
“I guess it doesn’t matter.” Mom yawned. “We’re going to head on home. Call us tomorrow.”
“I will.” He assisted Dad into the car and watched his parents drive away. A yawn fled his lips. Yep, home sounded like a good idea. He hadn’t slept much in the last few days, and it was catching up with him.
Dean crossed over to Third Street with a large group of pedestrians. He hoped a certain comedy-loving, culinary defective neighbor didn’t have any holiday plans.
He broke from the pack and headed toward Main Street. A large throng gathered around the town Christmas tree up ahead. White lights twinkled between the branches and red and silver garlands scalloped around the tree. Stuffing his hands deep into his coat pockets, he skirted the crowd, suppressing another yawn.
A pink scarf caught his eye. He veered toward it, praying it was Darcy. She turned in his direction. Thank God. Dean smiled. His legs wouldn’t move fast enough.
He stopped beside her. “How’s the arm?”
“Better. I can’t play tennis yet, but I’ll survive.”
“I’m so sorry, Darcy.”
“I’m not. Who knows, if I hadn’t broken my arm, you may not have made that star, and that million-dollars Lake Roberts paid tonight wouldn’t go to such a worthy cause.”
He blinked. “You really think it was him?”
She chuckled. “Ruth Simpson said she was standing right next to him—fighting hot flashes—when he shouted ‘A million dollars’ above the crowd. Ethel vouched for her.”
Dean laughed. “If anyone would know there was a celebrity in this town, Ruth and Ethel would.”
“A million dollars. That’s fantastic, Dean. That money’s going to bless a lot of people.”
“I can’t even imagine that much money.”
“Me either.”
White flakes drifted from the sky. People moved all around them, but Dean was content to just be near her. He didn’t care that his toes had lost feeling. “Were you headed somewhere?”
“Home.”
He offered his arm, and she smiled, wrapping her fingers around his elbow.
“What changed your mind, Dean?” She studied him, hope radiating from her eyes.
“A master never gives up on his creation. When it’s broken, he fixes it. I hate that it took me so long, but I finally got things settled. Let some things go.” He’d tell her about his reconciliation with James later.
She stopped and hugged him close. “I’m so glad.”
He squeezed her closer. “Do you have any plans for Christmas dinner?”
She shrugged. “The usual, a frozen entree and some form of Christmas mayhem.”
Dean laughed. “Why don’t you come with me to my parent’s house instead?”
She released his neck and backed a step.
“I’m ready, Darcy. Please, come with me.” He tightened his grip on her waist.
Darcy toyed with his coat zipper. “I don’t know. Gomez gets pretty upset when I break our dates.”
“You leave the cat to me.”
She laughed. “I’d love to go with you.”
“Merry Christmas.” Dean sealed his lips on hers.
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