When he pulled away, it took her a long time to open her eyes. She glanced up at him and discovered he seemed as perplexed as she was.
“I was afraid of that,” he said.
She blinked, understanding perfectly what he meant. “Me, too.”
“It was as good as last night.”
“Better,” she whispered.
He cleared his throat. “If we don’t leave now, I’ll be late for the interview.”
“Right.”
Still, neither of them moved. Apparently all they were capable of doing was staring at each other. Wynn didn’t seem any happier about this than she was, and in some small way, that was a comfort.
K.O. forced herself to break the contact between them. She collected her coat and purse and was halfway to the door when she dashed into the bathroom. “I forgot my toothbrush,” she informed him.
He gave her a puzzled look. “You brush after every meal?” he asked.
“No, before.” She smiled sheepishly. “I mean, I didn’t yesterday, which is why I have to do it today.”
He didn’t question her garbled explanation as she dropped her toothbrush carrier and toothpaste inside her purse.
Once outside the building, Wynn walked at a fast pace as if he already had second thoughts. For her part, K.O. tried not to think at all. To protect everyone’s peace of mind, she’d decided to wait outside the building. It was safer that way.
By the time they arrived at the radio station, K.O. realized it was far too frigid to linger out in the cold. She’d wait in the lobby.
Wynn pressed his hand to the small of her back and guided her through the impressive marble-floored lobby toward the elevators.
“I’ll wait here,” she suggested. But there wasn’t any seating or coffee shop. If she stayed there, it would mean standing around for the next thirty minutes or so.
“I’m sure they’ll have a waiting area up at the station,” Wynn suggested.
He was probably right.
They took the elevator together, standing as far away from each other as possible, as though they both recognized the risk for potential disaster.
The interviewer, Big Mouth Bass, was a well-known Seattle disk jockey. K.O. had listened to him for years but this was the first time she’d seen him in person. He didn’t look anything like his voice. For one thing, he was considerably shorter than she’d pictured and considerably…rounder. If she had the opportunity, she’d share her toothbrush trick with him. It might help.
“Want to sit in for the interview?” Big Mouth asked.
“Thank you, no,” she rushed to say. “Dr. Jeffries and I don’t necessarily agree and—”
“No way.” Wynn’s voice drowned hers out.
Big Mouth was no fool. K.O. might’ve imagined it, but she thought a gleam appeared in his eyes. He hosted a live interview show, after all, and a little controversy would keep things lively.
“I insist,” Big Mouth said. He motioned toward the hallway that led to the control booth.
K.O. shook her head. “Thanks, anyway, but I’ll wait out here.”
“We’re ready for Dr. Jeffries,” a young woman informed the radio personality.
“I’ll wait here,” K.O. said again, and before anyone could argue, she practically threw herself into a chair and grabbed a magazine. She opened it and pretended to read, sighing with relief as Big Mouth led Wynn out of the waiting area. The radio in the room was tuned to the station, and a couple of minutes later, Big Mouth’s booming voice was introducing Wynn.
“I have with me Dr. Wynn Jeffries,” he began. “As many of you will recall, Dr. Jeffries’s book, The Free Child, advocates letting a child set his or her own boundaries. Explain yourself, Dr. Jeffries.”
“First, let me thank you for having me on your show,” Wynn said, and K.O. was surprised by how melodic he sounded, how confident and sincere. “I believe,” Wynn continued, “that structure is stifling to a child.”
“Any structure?” Big Mouth challenged.
“Yes, in my opinion, such rigidity is detrimental to a child’s sense of creativity and his or her natural ability to develop moral principles.” Wynn spoke eloquently, citing example after example showing how structure had a negative impact on a child’s development.
“No boundaries,” Big Mouth repeated, sounding incredulous.
“As I said, a child will set his or her own.”
Just listening to Wynn from her chair in the waiting room, K.O. had to sit on her hands.
“You also claim a parent should ignore inappropriate talk.”
“Absolutely. Children respond to feedback and when we don’t give them any, the undesirable action will cease.”
Big Mouth asked a question now and then. Just before the break, he said, “You brought a friend with you this afternoon.”
“Yes…” All the confidence seemed to leave Wynn’s voice.
“She’s in the waiting area, isn’t she?” Big Mouth continued, commenting more than questioning. “I gathered, during the few minutes in which I spoke to your friend, that she doesn’t agree with your child-rearing philosophy.”
“Yes, that’s true, but Katherine isn’t part of the interview.”
Big Mouth chuckled. “I thought we’d bring her in after the break and get her views on your book.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t go away, folks—this should be interesting. We’ll be right back after the traffic and weather report.”
On hearing this, K.O. tossed aside the magazine and started to make a run for the elevator. Unfortunately Big Mouth was faster than his size had led her to believe.
“I…I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said as he led her by the elbow to the control booth. “I’m sure Wynn would rather not…”
“Quite the contrary,” Big Mouth said smoothly, ushering her into the recording room, which was shockingly small. He sat her next to Wynn and handed her a headset. “You’ll share a mike with Dr. Jeffries. Be sure to speak into it and don’t worry about anything.”
After the traffic report, Big Mouth was back on the air.
“Hello, Katherine,” he said warmly. “How are you this afternoon?”
“I was perfectly fine until a few minutes ago,” she snapped.
Big Mouth laughed. “Have you read Dr. Jeffries’s book?”
“No. Well, not really.” She leaned close to the microphone.
“You disagree with his philosophies, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She dared not look at Wynn, but she was determined not to embarrass him the way she had in the French Café. Even if they were at odds about the validity of his Free Child movement, he didn’t deserve to be publicly humiliated.
“Katherine seems to believe I’m taking Christmas away from children,” Wynn blurted out. “She’s wrong, of course. I have a short chapter in the book that merely suggests parents bury the concept of Santa.”
“You want to bury Santa?” Even Big Mouth took offense at that, K.O. noticed with a sense of righteousness.
“My publisher chose the chapter title and against my better judgment, I let it stand. Basically, all I’m saying is that it’s wrong to lie to a child, no matter how good one’s intentions.”
“He wants to get rid of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny, too,” K.O. inserted.
“That doesn’t make me a Jim Carrey,” Wynn said argumentatively. “I’m asking parents to be responsible adults. That’s all.”
“What does it hurt?” K.O. asked. “Childhood is a time of make-believe and fairy tales and fun. Why does everything have to be so serious?”
“Dr. Jeffries,” Big Mouth cut in. “Could you explain that comment about Jim Carrey?”
“I called him that,” K.O. answered on his behalf. “I meant to say the Grinch. You know, like in How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Jim Carrey was in the movie,” she explained helplessly.
Wynn seemed eager to change the subject. He started to say something about the macabre character of fairy tales
and how they weren’t “fun,” but Big Mouth cut him off.
“Ah, I see,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “You two have a love/hate relationship. That’s what’s really going on here.”
K.O. looked quickly at Wynn, and he glared back. The “hate” part might be right, but there didn’t seem to be any “love” in the way he felt about her.
“Regrettably, this is all the time we have for today,” Big Mouth told his audience. “I’d like to thank Dr. Jeffries for stopping by this afternoon and his friend Katherine, too. Thank you both for a most entertaining interview. Now for the news at the top of the hour.”
Big Mouth flipped a switch and the room went silent. So silent, in fact, that K.O. could hear her heart beat.
“We can leave now,” Wynn said stiffly after removing his headphones.
Hers were already off. K.O. released a huge pent-up sigh. “Thank goodness,” she breathed.
Wynn didn’t say anything until they’d entered the elevator.
“That was a disaster,” he muttered.
K.O. blamed herself. She should never have accompanied him to the interview. She’d known it at the time and still couldn’t resist. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on the air with you.”
“You weren’t given much choice,” he said in her defense.
“I apologize if I embarrassed you. That wasn’t my intention. I tried not to say anything derogatory—surely you could see that.”
He didn’t respond and frankly, she didn’t blame him.
“The thing is, Katherine, you don’t respect my beliefs.”
“I don’t,” she reluctantly agreed.
“You couldn’t have made it any plainer.” The elevator doors opened and they stepped into the foyer.
“Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t see each other again.” K.O. figured she was only saying what they were both thinking.
Wynn nodded. She could sense his regret, a regret she felt herself.
They were outside the building now. The street was festive with lights, and Christmas music could be heard from one of the department stores. At the moment, however, she felt anything but merry.
The Figgy Pudding contest, which was sponsored by the Pike Market Senior Center and Downtown Food Bank as an annual fund-raiser, would’ve started by now and, although she didn’t feel the least bit like cheering, she’d promised Vickie she’d show up and support her efforts for charity.
K.O. thrust out her hand and did her utmost to smile. “Thank you, Wynn. Last night was one of the most incredible evenings of my life,” she said. “Correction. It was the most incredible night ever.”
Wynn clasped her hand. His gaze held hers as he said, “It was for me, too.”
People were stepping around them.
She should simply walk away. Vickie would be looking for her. And yet…she couldn’t make herself do it.
“Goodbye,” he whispered.
Her heart was in her throat. “Goodbye.”
He dropped his hand, turned and walked away. His steps were slow, measured. He’d gone about five feet when he glanced over his shoulder. K.O. hadn’t moved. In fact, she stood exactly as he’d left her, biting her lower lip—a habit she had when distressed. Wynn stopped abruptly, his back still to her.
“Wynn, listen,” she called and trotted toward him. “I have an idea.” Although it’d only been a few feet, she felt as if she was setting off on a marathon.
“What?” He sounded eager.
“I have twin nieces.”
He nodded. “You mentioned them earlier. Their mother read my book.”
“Yes, and loved it.”
There was a flicker of a smile. “At least someone in your family believes in me.”
“Yes, Zelda sure does. She thinks you’re fabulous.” K.O. realized she did, too—aside from his theories. “My sister and her husband are attending his company Christmas dinner next Friday, the fifteenth,” she rushed to explain. “Zelda asked me to spend the night. Come with me. Show me how your theories should work. Maybe Zelda’s doing it wrong. Maybe you can convince me that the Free Child movement makes sense.”
“You want me to come with you.”
“Yes. We’ll do everything just as you suggest in your book, and I promise not to say a word. I’ll read it this week, I’ll listen to you and I’ll observe.”
Wynn hesitated.
“Until then, we won’t mention your book or anything else to do with your theories.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” she concurred.
“No more radio interviews?”
She laughed. “That’s an easy one.”
A smile came to him then, appearing in his eyes first. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Yes, she did, and K.O. could hardly wait to introduce Zoe and Zara to Dr. Wynn Jeffries. Oh, she was sincere about keeping an open mind, but Wynn might learn something, too. The incorrigible twins would be the true crucible for his ideas.
K.O. held out her hand. “Are you ready for some Figgy Pudding?” she asked.
He grinned, taking her mittened hand as they hurried toward the Figgy Pudding People’s Choice competition.
Chapter
7
The Figgy Pudding People’s Choice event was standing room only when Wynn and K.O. arrived. Vickie and her friends hadn’t performed yet and were just being introduced by a popular morning-radio host for an easy-listening station. K.O. and Vickie had been friends all through high school and college. Vickie had married three years ago, and K.O. had been in her wedding party. In fact, she’d been in any number of wedding parties. Her mother had pointedly asked whether K.O. was ever going to be a bride, instead of a bridesmaid.
“That’s my friend over there,” K.O. explained, nodding in Vickie’s direction. “The one in the Santa hat.”
Wynn squinted at the group of ladies huddled together in front of the assembly. “Aren’t they all wearing Santa hats?”
“True. The young cute one,” she qualified.
“They’re all young and cute, Katherine.” He smiled. “Young enough, anyway.”
She looked at Wynn with new appreciation. “That is such a sweet thing to say.” Vickie worked for a local dentist as a hygienist and was the youngest member of the staff. The other women were all in their forties and fifties. “I could just kiss you,” K.O. said, snuggling close to him. She looped her arm through his.
Wynn cleared his throat as though unaccustomed to such open displays of affection. “Any particular reason you suddenly find me so kissable?”
“Well, yes, the women with Vickie are…a variety of ages.”
“I see. I should probably tell you I’m not wearing my glasses.”
K.O. laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. “And here I thought you were being so gallant.”
He grinned boyishly and slid his arm around her shoulders.
Never having attended a Figgy Pudding event before, K.O. didn’t know what to expect. To her delight, it was enchanting, as various groups competed, singing Christmas carols, to raise funds for the Senior Center and Food Bank. Vickie and her office mates took second place, and K.O. cheered loudly. Wynn shocked her by placing two fingers in his mouth and letting loose with a whistle that threatened to shatter glass. It seemed so unlike him.
Somehow Vickie found her when the singing was over. “I wondered if you were going to show,” she said, shouting to be heard above the noise of the merry-go-round and the crowd. Musicians gathered on street corners, horns honked and the sights and sounds of Christmas were everywhere. Although the comment was directed at K.O., Vickie’s attention was unmistakably on Wynn.
“Vickie, this is Wynn Jeffries.”
Her friend’s gaze shot back to K.O. “Wynn Jeffries? Not the Wynn Jeffries?”
“One and the same,” K.O. said, speaking out of the corner of her mouth.
“You’ve got to be joking.” Vickie’s mouth fell open as she stared at Wynn.
For the last two months, K.O.
had been talking her friend’s ear off about the man and his book and how he was ruining her sister’s life. She’d even told Vickie about the incident at the bookstore, although she certainly hadn’t confided in anyone else; she wasn’t exactly proud of being kicked out for unruly behavior. Thinking it might be best to change the subject, K.O. asked, “Is John here?”
“John?”
“Your husband,” K.O. reminded her. She hadn’t seen Wynn wearing glasses before, but she hoped his comment about forgetting them was sincere, otherwise he might notice the close scrutiny Vickie was giving him.
“Oh, John,” her friend said, recovering quickly. “No, he’s meeting me later for dinner.” Then, as if inspiration had struck, she asked, “Would you two like to join us? John got a reservation at a new Chinese restaurant that’s supposed to have great food.”
K.O. looked at Wynn, who nodded. “Sure,” she answered, speaking for both of them. “What time?”
“Nine. I was going to do some shopping and meet him there.”
They made arrangements to meet later and Vickie went into the mall to finish her Christmas shopping.
“I’m starving now,” K.O. said when her stomach growled. Although she had her toothbrush, there really wasn’t a convenient place to foam up. “After last night, I didn’t think I’d ever want to eat again.” She considered mentioning the two pounds she’d gained, but thought better of it. Wynn might not want to see her again if he found out how easily she packed on weight. Well, she didn’t really believe that of him, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Which proved that, despite everything, she was interested. In fact, she’d made the decision to continue with this relationship, see where their attraction might lead, almost without being aware of it.
“How about some roasted chestnuts?” he asked. A vendor was selling them on the street corner next to a musician who strummed a guitar and played a harmonica at the same time. His case was open on the sidewalk for anyone who cared to donate. She tossed in a dollar and hoped he used whatever money he collected to pay for music lessons.
“I’ve never had a roasted chestnut,” K.O. told him.
Christmas Wishes Page 6