Timing Is Everything

by Steinsiek, Sabra Brown;

  Are you serious about Christmas? It sounds wonderful, and I’d love to see more of Albuquerque, especially with you. If you’re really sure, send me more details and we can make plans.

  My shopping trip with Meg was a great success. Of course, I’m not sure what Annie’s going to think of purple hippopotamus slippers, but Meg insisted she needed them. It’s my job to take her shopping, not to censor her purchases, but they will match the purple robe that I bought for Annie.

  You were a girl once—well, you still are, I guess! Any suggestions for a perfectly precocious eleven-year-old?

  Taylor

  Laura had a moment of panic when she read his answer. He’d said “yes!” She had never thought beyond the invitation to what would happen if he took her up on it! Then panic was replaced by excitement, and she realized how much she had been hoping he would say “yes.” Cary would be gone after the twentieth, so if Taylor came out then, she wouldn’t have to worry about them meeting. Maybe she could talk Robert into letting her have another day off if she got her articles in early.

  Hi Taylor,

  Purple hippos? Are you sure they were completely Meg’s idea? Why do I have the feeling that you were egging her on?

  Of course I was serious about Christmas! It will be great to have you here. I have to work, but can probably sneak off early any afternoon that week. You’re welcome to come any time after the 20th if you don’t mind exploring on your own during the day. Just let me know when to pick you up at the airport.

  I do hope you own a coat. You’ll need it, and gloves and a hat for the procession. It can get pretty cold. Don’t worry if you don’t. You can always borrow some from Dad.

  Oh! I just realized all that cold wouldn’t be good for your voice. If you want to skip the procession, we can wait with Mom and Dad for the finale.

  I’ll give some thought to something for Meg, but I’m sure you don’t really need my help. I think you have her pretty well figured out.

  Laura

  Chapter 16

  Hi Laura,

  I just got home from Meg’s concert and father/ daughter dinner. It was almost a disaster—was a disaster as far as I’m concerned.

  The dinner was fine, if you overlooked the music teacher fawning all over me. The woman is a total twit. Luckily, Meg’s friends were less impressed, since I’ve met most of them at one time or another. The fathers didn’t care who I was.

  After the girls went to get ready for the concert portion, I realized that Meg had forgotten the stole that goes over her choir robe. I went to take it to her and came upon a group of girls in the hall…

  They hadn’t seen him as he walked toward them. Only Meg was facing him, and he could see the pain in her eyes before he heard what they were saying.

  “Are you trying to impress us with your famous friend? If you are, it’s not working, Megan Miller. He’s not your father, and you shouldn’t have come.” The tallest of the girls was leading the attack, but the four or five others around her were nodding in agreement. Taylor could see that Meg was close to tears.

  They jumped like startled cats when Taylor spoke, “Actually, you’re wrong. I am Meg’s father—her godfather. And that’s even more important because I got asked if I’d like to do it and I said ‘yes.’ I chose Meg.” He’d walked around the small knot of girls. “You forgot your stole, Meg,” he said as he handed it to her. His back was to the others, and he winked at her, coaxing a small smile to her face and drying up the tears that threatened to spill over. Knowing that making too much of a fuss would embarrass her, he turned and said, “Nice meeting you, ladies,” before he walked away.

  … Laura, leaving her there with those little beasts was hard. But when they filed out on stage a little later, Meg winked at me and smiled, so I knew she was all right.

  After the concert, we met up with the ringleader again in the parking lot. She seemed pretty impressed when we took my Jag that she’d been eyeing. Meg waved at her like a princess acknowledging a subject as we drove away.

  I worry about Meg a lot. This fatherless stuff is hard on her. Annie’s never lied to her. She’s told her that her father left before she was born, and Meg’s always seemed fine with it, but someday she’s going to want to find him, and I know she’ll be hurt when she does.

  Enough of that. I promise I’ll be more cheerful when I see you next week. I’m really looking forward to it.

  Taylor

  * * *

  For some reason he couldn’t explain even to himself, Taylor still had not told Annie about Laura. He remembered Annie’s opinion of Janis and the fight they’d had. Annie had been right, and a part of him was afraid that Annie wouldn’t like Laura. She fussed at him often enough about finding someone, and, now, maybe he had. It was that “maybe” that was stopping him.

  Since he would be going to New Mexico this week, it was time to tell Annie. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He just wished he knew what he was going to say! He tried to compose his thoughts as he drove to Annie’s for Sunday brunch. Meg was having a friend over and would be occupied. He’d talk to Annie after they ate.

  * * *

  Laura hadn’t told anyone, even Beth, that Taylor was coming. She would need to soon, but she didn’t want it to get back to Cary. Considering his history with Taylor, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let either of them know she knew the other.

  She and Cary were going out tonight to “have an early Christmas.” Cary had planned all of it; dinner at the Hyatt, dancing, then… it was what she was sure he was expecting afterwards that was making her nervous. He had become more overt about his expectations lately, his embraces a little rougher, his kisses more aggressive. She had begun to think seriously about breaking if off with him, and she probably would after the holidays. It just seemed unnecessarily cruel to do it when the whole world was wrapped in happiness.

  * * *

  Hi Taylor,

  I can’t believe that it will be Christmas this week. The year seems to have rushed by.

  I’m glad Meg survived the father-daughter dinner. Being different is always hard. While it’s not on the same scale, of course, I was always singled out because of my height. I wanted desperately to be shorter.

  Meg will remember someday what you did for her at that dinner. Right now she’s probably gone on to the next thing, to excitement about Christmas. But a memory like that doesn’t disappear. It stays hidden in your mind until it’s needed. I’m sure it’s going to help her through more than one rough spot in the future. She’s very lucky to have you in her life, Taylor.

  See you in a few days.

  Laura

  * * *

  After brunch, Meg and her friend went out to skate around the quiet neighborhood. Annie made sure they were helmeted and padded before she let them out the door with an admonition to check in every thirty minutes. The house was amazingly quiet without them.

  Taylor handed Annie a glass of wine as they went out to the patio, where they took chairs facing each other.

  “OK, Taylor. Out with it.”

  “Out with what, Annie?”

  “Whatever it is that’s bothering you. You’ve been nervous all morning. So, tell me already.”

  “Annie, how do you do that? How do you always know?” he asked.

  She just grinned at him and answered, “That’s something you’ll never find out, Taylor.”

  “I’m going to be gone for a couple of days this week, Annie. I’m flying to New Mexico on the twenty-second, but I’ll be home in plenty of time for Christmas Eve. We won’t have to change any plans,” he was quick to reassure her.

  “New Mexico? I know you stopped there on the tour…”

  “Annie, I met someone there. Her name is Laura Collins. She was the reporter who wrote about the concert.”

  As Taylor told her about that short time with Laura, Annie studied his face. T
aylor was very attracted to this girl, but there was something else, too. He was already half in love with this Laura Collins, she was sure of it. Thankfully, Laura sounded a million miles away from what Janis had been.

  “It sounds like you’ll have fun. I’m glad you’re going.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, Annie. I think you’ll like Laura. She’s nothing like Janis, I promise.”

  Annie’s eyes darkened as she told him, completely seriously, “She’d better not be, Taylor.”

  * * *

  Cary arrived at her door, promptly at 6:30 with a dozen roses, a bottle of champagne, and a package wrapped in silver paper and tied with gold ribbons. He had told her he expected her to dress up, but she was surprised he was wearing a tux. She commented on it as she took the roses, and he replied, “It’s a special evening, Laura, or at least, I hope it will be.” He looked with approval at her long, deep blue velvet dress. Her hair had been pinned up with unruly curls escaping here and there. If all went well tonight, he looked forward to removing those pins—and the dress.

  When she’d finished putting the roses in water, he handed her the package. “Go ahead and open it, Laura.”

  She undid the ribbons and carefully opened the box to find a pair of heavy crystal champagne flutes. She lifted one and held it as the light caught and reflected in the carved facets. “They’re beautiful, Cary.”

  “Not as beautiful as you,” he said as he popped the cork on the champagne and filled the glasses. He lifted his and proposed a toast, “To Christmas wishes, Laura,” and gently tapped his glass against hers.

  “Thank you. They really are wonderful. It makes the champagne seem even more special.”

  He kissed her lightly, then finished his champagne. “Ready?” he said as he set the glass on the table and corked the champagne. “We can finish this later.”

  Cary put the champagne in the refrigerator, then helped Laura with her coat, his hands lingering on her shoulders as he dropped a kiss on the back of her neck. He assumed it was a shiver of pleasure that ran through her at his touch.

  * * *

  It had been a nice evening. Cary could be a wonderful companion, charming and funny, if he just wasn’t so insistent on a more intimate physical relationship. As he opened the car door for her at her apartment complex, she felt herself losing the relaxed feeling of the evening and beginning to tense at the confrontation she was sure was coming.

  At her door, he took the key from her and opened it. Following her in and closing the door behind him, he kissed her, pushing her coat from her shoulders. Pulling her into his arms, he whispered, “I think I’m falling in love with you, Laura Collins.” She was spared having to answer as he kissed her again.

  Gently, she pushed him away from her and said, “We have a bottle of champagne to finish, and, unlike certain people who start a vacation tomorrow, I have to be at work in the morning.”

  Still confident that he could change her mind, Cary took no offense at her implied end of the evening. He was sure that she wouldn’t be able to resist him, especially after another glass or two of champagne. He smiled at the thought of lying next to her as she called in sick in the morning, ready to spend the day in bed with him.

  He took the glass of champagne she handed him. “Thanks for a wonderful evening, Cary.”

  He took a sip of champagne before he answered her. “It doesn’t have to be over, Laura.”

  She laughed and said, “But it does, Cary. I need to get some sleep.”

  She started to move past him, towards the door, when he caught her and turned her to face him. He took her glass and put it on the table. “You could call in sick tomorrow, darling,” he said quietly as he pulled her into his arms. When she brought her hands up to push him away, he caught her wrists and held them as he kissed her.

  “Cary, stop. You’re hurting me,” she said as she twisted her face away from his. He released her wrists, sliding his hands along the velvet sleeves of her dress, finally taking her face between his palms.

  “I never want to hurt you, Laura. But, I do want to make love to you, and I think you want it, too.”

  Laura stepped back from him. “No, Cary. You’re wrong,” she said, her voice shaking. “Please, leave now.”

  He was genuinely shocked. He’d been sure that the romance of the evening and his confession that he was falling in love with her would be the final keys that would gain him access to her bed.

  “Laura…”

  “No, Cary. I want you to leave, now.”

  He was suddenly filled with rage. Taking two swift steps toward her, he caught her by the shoulders. “Damn it, Laura, you can’t toy with me this way.”

  He was surprised when she slapped him. “Get out, Cary. Now.” She pulled away from him and opened the door, her eyes blazing with anger.

  Reaching deep inside himself, he presented a calm front as he straightened his jacket and tie before he walked to the door. Stopping in front of her, he looked into her eyes and whispered with bitter irony, “Merry Christmas, Laura,” before he walked away without a backwards glance.

  Laura closed the door behind him and locked it before she collapsed, trembling, on the couch. She had never expected the evening to end this way, but at least now, she didn’t have to worry about breaking up with him. Slowly, she stood and took the crystal to the kitchen where she poured the remaining champagne down the sink and washed the glasses before she went to bed.

  Chapter 17

  Waiting at the airport for Taylor’s plane to arrive, Laura finally had some time to think about what had happened with Cary. She’d been so busy this week trying to get things done before Taylor arrived that she had refused to let herself think about it until now.

  When she’d arrived at work the next morning, a single white rose had been waiting on her desk, a letter propped up against the vase. She knew it was from Cary and considered just trashing the letter, but her own curiosity wouldn’t let her, and she’d opened it to read:

  Darling Laura,

  I was a hopeless jerk last night. I’d like to be able to blame it all on the champagne and the intoxicating affect you have on me, but I’d be compounding my already poor behavior with a lie.

  I let my own wants override your needs. I’m ashamed of my behavior and realize you probably never want to see me again. I can’t blame you.

  Still, I find myself hoping that you can forgive me. I’ll call you after Christmas to see if there’s any chance.

  Penitently,

  Cary

  She hadn’t decided what she was going to do. Albuquerque was a small town really. The media community often had to work together. She was bound to run into him again, and it would be easier if they could make some kind of peace.

  The announcement of the arrival of Taylor’s flight caused all thoughts of Cary to vanish. It was finally happening. He was here, and she was scared to death. What if this is a disaster?

  Then she saw him as he raised his hand to wave at her. She waved back and waited for him to make his way to her through the crowds. They made an awkward scene in the midst of the joyful reunions around them, neither of them quite sure what to say, how to act. Their eyes met, and they both burst out laughing at the mutual panic they saw in each other’s eyes.

  “Welcome back, Taylor.”

  “Thanks, Laura. I’ve been really looking forward to this.”

  “Me, too. Let’s get out of this madhouse.” She led him down the busy concourse. Since he’d brought what he needed in a carry-on bag, they didn’t have to stop for luggage, and proceeded to the garage. Taylor stopped at the sight of Laura’s car, an ancient, bright yellow Opel GT.

  “I’m sure it’s not as impressive as your convertible, but I love it.” Laura said as she opened the door.

  “Actually, it’s great. I had a teacher who had a car like this when I was in high school. We all tho
ught it was the coolest thing we’d ever seen, which, by extension, made him the coolest teacher. Where did you find it?” He ran his fingers across the line of the roof, and Laura had a momentary image of his hands caressing her in the same reverential way.

  “Actually, it belonged to my brother, Tomás. He bought it in high school and spent hours restoring it. It was his baby. He was so full of instructions about how I was to care for it that it might as well have been a real baby. It’s like having a part of him still around.”

  “Well, I’d trade you my Jag for it in a heartbeat.”

  “Watch it, Taylor. The next time this breaks down and I have to hunt all over for parts, I might take you up on it!”

  As they exited the airport, Laura said, “I thought we’d take your stuff back to the apartment before we set out exploring. Is there anything special you’d like to see?”

  “I have no idea, Laura. I’m completely at your mercy.”

  Laura maneuvered the sports car through the Albuquerque traffic and the ever-present road construction, pointing out landmarks on the way. The first one she showed him was a sculpture called San Mateo Cruising I. “Locally, it’s known as the ‘Chevy on a Stick.’ The artist, Barbara Grygntis, put a real Chevy on the arch and tiled the whole thing. It has two companion pieces down that way—a tiled table and a tiled chair. They cost the city a small fortune, and people either love them or hate them; there’s no half-way.”

  Taylor watched her as she talked. Laura was a person of strong opinions, and she wasn’t afraid to express them. He hadn’t told her that he’d been accessing the Herald on the web and reading her articles since they’d met. He admired the stand she’d taken on some issues and her ability to get to the heart of the matter. Now he was forcibly reminded of the beauty that went with the brain, a beauty that was distracting him from her words.