by Lara Norman
She finished around six-thirty and decided to go home and change. He’d promised nothing fancy, but she wanted to wear something he hadn't recently seen her in. She wanted to make an effort to feel good about herself and to show off a little. She picked a cream colored sweater with a wide enough neckline to show off her shoulders and a pair of jeans with boots. It was still snowing outside, after all. She left her hair down but added a touch more makeup before sending a text to Warren with her address. The last thing she did was spritz on a subtle perfume and grab her coat and purse. She had to meet him at the curb; she didn't think she had the restraint to let him in her living room and then leave the house in time for dinner without jumping him. When headlights came down her street, she straightened her back and prepared to spend a nice evening with the man she was falling for.
Twelve
Warren was more than pleasantly surprised to receive a text from Cora with her home address. It was a step forward for her to give him such personal information. It didn't even bother him that she was waiting outside for him in the cold instead of inviting him inside. As long as she was willing to go on a date with him, he wouldn't even mention it. He got out after pulling up to the curb behind her car and opened her door for her.
“This is quite the upgrade from the delivery van.”
He closed her in and waited until he was back in on his side before responding. “It was the first thing I spoiled myself with once I felt that I was successful in my business.”
“I completely understand.” She admired the leather interior of the Mercedes. She had a different perspective of Warren now; she hoped she wasn’t a snob that changed her opinion of him based on his material possessions.
Warren didn't care if her thoughts about him had changed because of his job or his car. She’d consistently treated him with respect since they first met. Instead, the first thing he noticed was the way she smelled. “That perfume suits you.” It wasn’t too floral or overly spicy, but something in between.
“Thanks.” She smiled happily, feeling her face flush. She didn't think she’d blushed so much since she was a little girl. It was a good sign for her.
“I thought we could go out to Casco Bay,” he said as he drove down the street and away from her house.
“That sounds nice.” She got comfortable for the ride since they were at least a half an hour from the water if traffic was on their side.
“How did the rest of your day go?” he asked politely as he merged onto the interstate.
“I had an epiphany of sorts.”
“You did?” She heard the shock in his voice, and she couldn't blame him. For once, she wasn’t speaking of work.
“I realized that I’ve let my choices as an adult be affected by my parents’ actions while I was a child, and it’s not fair to me.” She folded her hands in her lap, fidgeting with the one ring she wore. It was a monumental admission for her to make.
“In what way?” He had to keep his eyes on the road, but he wanted very much to look at her face and to give her his full attention. Her face was more expressive than she was aware, and he could typically decipher what she was thinking.
“The thing with Christmas is a perfect example. I hate it because of them, but why
should I? I can’t dissociate my adult life from my childhood? I think it’s possible that it’s affected all of my relationships, whether it be with men or friends.” Cora kept her gaze on the window and the passing lights. She was a little uncomfortable sharing so much of herself, despite how much she wanted to do so.
“That’s very insightful of you.” He smiled, though she couldn't see it in the darkened car interior.
“It’s a change I feel I need to make, starting with you.” Her voice was low, but he heard her.
His smile grew into a massive grin. “I like the sound of that. I have no problem being your guinea pig, so to speak.”
“That’s why I went home first instead of letting you pick me up from the office. I wanted to make it feel more like a date. I changed my clothes and switched off my vice president mode.” Cora looked over at Warren’s profile. “At least, I’m attempting to. I want to try with you.”
“Yes, please.”
She laughed at the eager tone in his voice, relaxing into the seat as she realized he wasn’t going to make a big deal or put her in a position of scrutiny. They remained quiet for the rest of the car ride, and it wasn't much longer before they arrived at the seafood restaurant on the water’s edge. For once, Cora could admire the beautiful Christmas lights that lined the coast and not be disgusted with the reason behind them. It was small progress, but she felt proud of herself for taking that step.
Thirteen
They were seated in a booth by a window, and Cora turned from admiring the view to study Warren as he removed his coat. His Henley style shirt was a forest green and set off his California-boy looks. He had a bit of stubble that she’d noticed earlier in the day, and it suited him.
“You look very handsome, Warren.”
He paused in unrolling his napkin from around his silverware. “Thank you.” He flashed her a grin. “That sweater is quite fetching.” It had slipped off one shoulder, leaving the entire expanse of skin bare. The thought that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath intrigued him greatly. “Having never seen you so casually dressed, I have to say that you look lovely.”
Cora was pleased with her choice to change her clothes. The waiter appeared and they placed their orders, turning their attention back to each other once he’d walked away.
“Since you were gracious enough to share some of your childhood facts with me, I suppose it would only be fair that I be more open with you about my childhood.” He stretched his arm across the table to hold her hand. He’d only shared the surface of a happy childhood while hiding the horrors that came with college and beyond.
She linked her fingers with his, and it felt nice. She was relieved that he was willing to share whatever had happened to cause the flashes of pain she sometimes caught crossing his face.
She also wanted him to feel the support that she was willing to give him. “I would appreciate that if there’s a story you haven’t shared with me.”
He took a deep breath and let it rush out before he spoke again. “I was engaged in college.”
That was it? Cora tried to decide how she felt about that. Certainly a smidgeon jealous, but neither of them were all that young. It only made sense that he would have had girlfriends and even a fiancée. “What happened?” she asked gently, thinking he’d say they discovered they were too young or they simply weren't compatible.
“She died,” he whispered.
There was a silent pause as Cora tried to process that information. The jealousy van- ished, and in its place was more than sympathy, it was a sense of loss. She had great empathy for how devastated he must have felt.
It was all making sense to her.
She squeezed the hand she held. “Do you want to wait and tell me about it later?”
He nodded, and she understood completely. It was one thing to open up about crappy circumstances in public; it was another thing altogether to discuss death in a restaurant. “I want you to know that I had some very dark years, and I ended up quitting med school in the throes of my depression.”
“I can't say that I blame you.” She paused when the waiter came back around. “That’s the sort of event that changes a person.”
“It certainly did, to say the least. We were living in southern California at the time, and we ended up moving across the country, my parents and I.”
“I knew you were Californian. I just knew it.” She smiled triumphantly and raised her glass in his direction.
“I have that look, huh?” He knew he did because he’d been told plenty of times before.
“You do look very surfer-boy.”
“I can assure you that I am not a boy, Cora. I’m all man.” His voice dipped down to a dangerously sexy octave. Cora’s insides curled again as she thou
ght of all the ways he could demonstrate that he was all man. As much as she wanted that, it wouldn’t be that night.
“Well.” She had to clear her throat. “I would like very much if you prove that to me sometime.”
“Are you flirting with me?” His eyes danced as he smiled back at her.
“Maybe,” she demurred.
“I guess it would be presumptuous of me to go ahead and ask for the check.”
She barked out a surprised laugh. She knew he was teasing, but it made her hot. She pulled her neckline away from her body to let some air circulate on her skin. “I don't know, I’m pretty hungry.”
He chuckled. “Me, too,” he said in a murmur. She had the feeling he was suggesting a double entendre, and she found herself enjoying their banter.
They sat back away from each other when their food was served, sampling the local seafood and chatting about safer topics. The Victorian house he was renovating was moving right along.
“The floors are finally set up. The air was a bit too damp for it to go quickly, but the low temperatures ended up working in our favor. I have a crew lined up to start on the walls next. Most likely, they won’t start for another week, though.”
“Why’s that?” She twirled a strand of pasta on her fork and didn’t look up at him as he spoke.
“Cora, it’s the twenty-first.”
“Okay?” She flicked a glance at him before resuming her studious twirling.
“They could work on them for two days and then quit, or I could give them some time off to enjoy the holidays and let them come back fresh after the first of the year.”
She hunched her shoulders. It hadn't occurred to her in the slightest that some people might let their employees have that much time off around Christmas. “What do you do to celebrate the holidays?” she asked to change the subject, finally eating the bite of spaghetti expertly entwined on her fork.
“I would usually spend the time with my parents. My mom would make a ham and
all the sides and we’d spend the day together. I’ve been known to volunteer at the shelter on Christmas Eve serving meals, but Christmas Day is for family.”
She watched him eat after that statement. Once again, she was impressed that he gave so freely of himself. “Not in my family. Mom and Dad immigrated from Polynesia, and they didn't celebrate any American holidays until I was around a year old. Then my mother went nuts on spending money for the perfect everything: tree, lights, holly, wreaths. It was disgusting, I’m sure, but I didn't know that at first. I loved it up until they split and I was shuffled around.”
“Why in the world did they feel the need to fight over you?” He’d always realized he was lucky with the parents he had. They’d never acted the way Cora’s had, and they had been married for forty years.
“Well, it was a tug-of-war between my mom and dad. It was a constant competition between them to try and win over my loyalty. Mom wanted me to hate my father, but he had never done anything for me to hate him, so she started showering me with things I didn't need so I would love her more than him. And that was great, at first, but even at six, I grew bored with all the things she gave me when she wouldn't willingly spend time with me. Dad was okay at first until I began to complain that Mom was buying me so much stuff. He took that to mean that he wasn't doing a good enough job in the buying department and tried to top her.”
Cora stopped and took a breath, sipping her drink and eating a few bites of food. Warren said, “It’s sad that they thought they had to buy your love.”
“It was the absolute worst at Christmas. By the time I was ten, Mom had a storage unit full of junk and garage sales every February and November. There was no room for the stuff she was hoarding, and I didn't want it.”
He touched her hand. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“I understood as I grew older that it was Mom’s way of showing her affection, but I
begged for actual affection and received none. Dad thought it was the way to win me over since I saw him less often. I only wanted to spend some time with him, but he worked nine times out of ten visits.”
“So buying you gifts is not the way to your heart.” It was easy to surmise based on what Andy had said, and he understood it now.
She snorted. “Not in the slightest.”
“I’ll have to remember that. I tend to be generous.” He lifted his drink in her direction in a toast.
“I do, too, but I pick one thing. One can’t-live-without-it thing. As a matter of fact, I’m running behind on ordering my gifts this year.”
“Um, you do know that you’re about to pay through the nose for delivery, right?” Even in the short time he’d been delivering, he’d heard plenty of complaints about shipping costs.
She sighed. “Unfortunately.”
Warren leaned far over the table, meeting her gaze steadily. “Have you checked the weather lately?”
She frowned deeply. What did the crappy weather have to do with their current conversation?
He saw it the moment she made the connection. “There’s a terrible Nor’easter heading right for New England. You’ll be lucky if anything you order makes it this far.”
“Well then, I know what I’m doing as soon as I get home.” She had to at least try, especially since she was getting an idea in her head about something she needed by Christmas.
“Why do I get the feeling it won’t involve me?”
“Oh, I promise you can help.”
He groaned.
Fourteen
The last thing Warren had expected to be doing that evening was online Christmas shopping with Cora. She’d figured they could divide and conquer, but he wasn't enjoying himself in the slightest. He had half of her gift list and his phone, while she had the other half and her laptop. She had at least offered him wine, and he was in her house for the first time.
“I think I’ve finished my part,” Cora started to say. “But I doubt any of it will be here on time, despite the promise of Christmas Eve delivery,” she finished.
“You’re paying an exorbitant amount to have it here in two days, especially with no guarantee.” Warren added another item to the cart on the site he was using. She’d given him her login information so he could easily make purchases and have it shipped to her office.
“I have everything sent to the office since that’s where I am more often than not,” she’d told him.
“I know,” she said now. “But I have to try.”
“Okay, last thing. Thank God.” In a few more clicks, her items were purchased, and he dropped his cell phone on the side table. “Is there any chance we can enjoy some of that entertainment we discussed earlier?”
She stretched her arms above her head. “Depends on what you had in mind.”
“First off, come join me on this couch.” He patted the spot next to him in invitation. She was sitting at her small dining table, but he would much rather she was snuggled up to him.
“Yeah, okay.” She yawned, but she got up and sat next to him. Her couch was old, saggy, and extremely comfortable. It was a shade of green between sage and puke, and Cora had intended to replace it a dozen times but couldn't ever bring herself to do it. It was the perfect size and softness to curl up with a book and some tea, or to stretch out and nap on the weekends when she tried to catch up on her sleep.
“That’s better.” Warren picked up Cora’s closest hand, and she shifted so she was facing him with her arm along the back of the cushions.
“About what I told you earlier . . .”
“The fiancée?” she prompted when he trailed off.
He grimaced. “Yes. Her name was Heather. We met in pre-med classes our freshman year and hit it off really well. By sophomore year, we’d met each other’s families and were planning our future together. We were going to attend the same medical school, and eventually, I was going to be a general surgeon and she was going to be a pediatrician.” He paused, scrubbing his free hand over his face. “She decided to go to th
is bonfire at the beach with some of her sorority sisters. I had to study for a biology final I was struggling with, so I declined to go. I think the last thing I said to her was ‘see ya’.”
He closed his eyes, and Cora pulled her hand from his to run her fingertip over his brow bone as he frowned. “You couldn't have known.”
“No, but it still stings to this day.” He opened his eyes and she dropped her hand. He found both of her hands in her lap and held on to them. “She drowned. Her blood alcohol was three times the limit. I’m not sure what she was thinking since she wasn't usually a heavy drinker.”
“Peer pressure, maybe.” Cora figured the girl could only have been about nineteen or twenty.
“Maybe.” He stroked his fingers over her knuckles. “We were alerted the next day. Someone called the police on the drunken teenagers passed out on the beach come sunrise, and the police were the ones that found Heather in the surf.” His face sort of collapsed in on itself, and she felt her heart go out to him and Heather's family. He looked devastated so many years later, so she couldn't exactly picture how bad it must have been at the time.
“You don't have to tell me any more.”
He took comfort in her gentle tone as much as her words. “You can’t imagine the feeling of having your parents show up to your dorm with the campus police to tell you that kind of news.”
“Warren,” she murmured, pained for the teenager he’d been and what he’d had to endure.
“I turned into a different person after that. I was angry all the time and at everybody. I failed my classes, I dropped out, and I despaired of ever being anything worthwhile. My parents thought a change of scenery would help, and I suppose it did in the long run.”
“When did you decide to become a contractor?” She ran her hands along his forearms, and he remained still in order to let her. His urge was to get up and pace, to scratch the place between his shoulder blades that itched every time he spoke of Heather or the hard times that followed her death. An equally strong and surprising urge came over him; to push Cora down on her ugly couch and see what she was wearing under the tantalizing sweater that constantly slipped down her bare shoulder.