Christmas Letters

by Debbie Macomber

  A stark silence followed.

  "You don't mince words, do you?"

  "No…"

  "I respect that. I wholeheartedly disagree, but I respect your right to state your opinion."

  The tension in the car had just increased by about a thousand degrees.

  "After this weekend, you still disagree?" She was astonished he'd actually said that, but then she supposed his ego was on the line.

  "I'm not interested in arguing with you, Katherine."

  She didn't want to argue with him, either. Still, she'd hoped the twins would convince him that while his theories might look good on paper, in reality they didn't work.

  After Wynn exited the freeway, it was only a few short blocks to Blossom Street and the parking garage beneath their building. Wynn pulled into his assigned slot and turned off the engine.

  Neither moved.

  K.O. feared that the minute she opened the car door, it would be over, and she didn't want their relationship to end, not like this. Not now, with Christmas only nine days away.

  She tried again. "I know we don't see eye to eye on everything— "

  "No, we don't," he interrupted. "In many cases, it doesn't matter, but when it comes to my work, my livelihood, it does. Not only do you not accept my theories, you think they're ludicrous."

  She opened her mouth to defend herself, then realized he was right. That was exactly what she thought.

  "You've seen evidence that appears to contradict them and, therefore, you discount the years of research I've done in my field. The fact is, you don't respect my work."

  Feeling wretched, she hung her head.

  "I expected there to be areas in which we disagree, Katherine, but this is more than I can deal with. I'm sorry, but I think it would be best if we didn't see each other again."

  If that was truly how he felt, then there was nothing left to say.

  "I appreciate that you've been honest with me," he continued. "I'm sorry, Katherine— I know we both would've liked this to work, but we have too many differences."

  She made an effort to smile. If she thought arguing with him would do any good, she would have. But the hard set of his jaw told her no amount of reasoning would reach him now. "Thank you for everything. Really, I mean that. You've made this Christmas the best."

  He gave her a sad smile.

  "Would it be all right— would you mind if I gave you a hug?" she asked. "To say goodbye?"

  He stared at her for the longest moment, then slowly shook his head. "That wouldn't be a good idea," he whispered, opening the car door.

  By the time K.O. was out of the vehicle, he'd already retrieved her overnight bag from the trunk.

  She waited, but it soon became apparent that he had no intention of taking the elevator with her. It seemed he'd had about as much of her company as he could stand.

  She stepped into the elevator with her bag and turned around. Before the doors closed, she saw Wynn leaning against the side of his car with his head down, looking dejected. K.O. understood the feeling.

  It had been such a promising relationship. She'd never felt this drawn to a man, this attracted. If only she'd been able to keep her mouth shut— but, oh, no, not her. She'd wanted to prove her point, show him the error of his ways. She still believed he was wrong— well, mostly wrong— but now she felt petty and mean.

  When the elevator stopped at the first floor, the doors slid open and K.O. got out. The first thing she did was collect her mail and her newspapers. She eyed the elevator, wondering if she'd ever see Wynn again, other than merely in passing, which would be painfully unavoidable.

  After unpacking her overnight case and sorting through the mail, none of which interested her, she walked across the hall, hoping to talk to LaVonne.

  Even after several long rings, LaVonne didn't answer her door. Perhaps she was doing errands.

  Just as K.O. was about to walk away, her neighbor opened the door just a crack and peered out.

  "LaVonne, it's me."

  "Oh, hi," she said.

  "Can I come in?" K.O. asked, wondering why LaVonne didn't immediately invite her inside. She'd never hesitated to ask her in before.

  "Ah…now isn't really a good time."

  "Oh." That was puzzling.

  "How about tomorrow?" LaVonne suggested.

  "Sure." K.O. nodded. "Is Tom back?" she asked.

  "Tom?"

  "Your cat."

  "Oh, oh…that Tom. Yes, he came home this morning."

  K.O. was pleased to hear that. She dredged up a smile. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."

  "Yes," she agreed. "Tomorrow." K.O. started across the hall, then abruptly turned back. "You might care to know that the Raisin Bran got it all wrong."

  "I beg your pardon?" LaVonne asked, narrowing her gaze.

  "I think you might've read the kitty litter wrong, too. But then again, that particular box accurately describes my love life."

  LaVonne opened the door a fraction of an inch wider. "Do you mean to tell me you're no longer seeing Wynn?"

  K.O. nodded. "Apparently we were both wrong in thinking Wynn was the man for me."

  "He is," LaVonne said confidently.

  K.O. sighed. "I wish he was. I genuinely like Wynn. When I first discovered he was the author of that loony book my sister read…" Realizing what she'd just said, K.O. began again. "When I discovered he wrote the book she'd read, I had my doubts."

  "It is a loony book," LaVonne said.

  "I should never have told him how I felt."

  "You were honest."

  "Yes, but I was rude and hurtful, too." She shook her head mournfully. "We disagree on just about every aspect of child-rearing. He doesn't want to see me again and I don't blame him."

  LaVonne stared at her for an intense moment. "You're falling in love with him."

  "No, I'm not," she said, hoping to make light of her feelings, but her neighbor was right. K.O. had known it the minute Wynn dived under the Christmas tree to save her from the not-so-rare African brown-tailed mouse. The minute he'd waved down the horse-drawn carriage and covered her knees with a lap robe and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  "Don't try to deny it," LaVonne said. "I don't really know what I saw in that Raisin Bran. Probably just raisins. But all along I've felt that Wynn's the man for you."

  "I wish that was true," she said as she turned to go home. "But it's not."

  As she opened her own door, she heard LaVonne talking. When she glanced back, she could hear her in a heated conversation with someone inside the condo. Unfortunately LaVonne was blocking the doorway, so K.O. couldn't see who it was.

  "LaVonne?"

  The door opened wider and out stepped Max Jeffries. "Hello, Katherine," he greeted her, grinning from ear to ear.

  K.O. looked at her neighbor and then at Wynn's father. The last she'd heard, Max was planning to sue LaVonne for everything she had. Somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, he'd changed his mind.

  "Max?" she said in an incredulous voice.

  He grinned boyishly and placed his arm around LaVonne's shoulders.

  "You see," LaVonne said, blushing a fetching shade of red. "My psychic talents might be limited, but you're more talented than you knew."

  Chapter 18

  K.O. was depressed. Even the fact that she'd been hired by Apple Blossom Books as their new publicist hadn't been enough to raise her spirits. She was scheduled to start work the day after New Year's and should've been thrilled. She was, only…nothing felt right without Wynn.

  It was Christmas Eve and it should have been one of the happiest days of the year, but she felt like staying in bed. Her sister and family were expecting her later that afternoon, so K.O. knew she couldn't mope around the condo all day. She had things to do, food to buy, gifts to wrap, and she'd better get moving.

  Putting on her coat and gloves, she walked out of her condo wearing a smile. She refused to let anyone know she was suffering from a broken heart.

  "Katherine,
" LaVonne called the instant she saw her. She stood at the lobby mailbox as if she'd been there for hours, just waiting for K.O. "Merry Christmas!"

  "Merry Christmas," K.O. returned a little too brightly. She managed a smile and with her shoulders squared, made her way to the door.

  "Do you have any plans for Christmas?" her neighbor called after her.

  K.O.'s mouth hurt from holding that smile for so long. She nodded. "I'm joining Zelda, Zach and the girls this evening, and then I thought I'd spend a quiet Christmas by myself." Needless to say, she hadn't issued any invitations, and she'd hardly seen LaVonne in days. Tomorrow she'd cook for herself. While doing errands this morning, she planned to purchase a small— very small— turkey. She refused to mope and feel lonely, not on Christmas Day.

  "Have dinner with me," LaVonne said. "It'll just be me and the boys."

  When K.O. hesitated, she added, "Tom, Phillip and Martin would love to see you. I'm cooking a turkey and all the fixings, and I'd be grateful for the company."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure!"

  K.O. didn't take long to consider her friend's invitation. "I'd love to, then. What would you like me to bring?"

  "Dessert," LaVonne said promptly. "Something yummy and special for Christmas."

  "All right." They agreed on a time and K.O. left, feeling better than she had in days. Just as she was about to step outside, she turned back.

  "How's Max?" she asked, knowing her neighbor was on good terms with Wynn's father. Exactly how good those terms were remained to be seen. She wondered fleetingly what the Jeffrieses were doing for Christmas, then decided it was none of her business. Still, the afternoon K.O. had found Max in LaVonne's condo, she'd been shocked to say the least. Their brief conversation the following day hadn't been too enlightening but maybe over Christmas dinner LaVonne would tell her what had happened— and what was happening now.

  Flustered, LaVonne lowered her eyes as she sorted through a stack of mail that seemed to be mostly Christmas cards. "He's completely recovered. And," she whispered, "he's apologized to Tom."

  A sense of pleasure shot through K.O. at this…and at the way LaVonne blushed. Apparently this was one romance that held promise. Her own had fizzled out fast enough. She'd come to truly like Wynn. More than like…At the thought of him, an aching sensation pressed down on her. In retrospect, she wished she'd handled the situation differently. Because she couldn't resist, she had to ask, "Have you seen Wynn?"

  Her friend nodded but the look in LaVonne's eyes told K.O. everything she dreaded.

  "He's still angry, isn't he?"

  LaVonne gave her a sad smile. "I'm sure everything will work out. I know what I saw in that Raisin Bran." She attempted a laugh.

  "When you see him again, tell him…" She paused. "Tell him," she started again, then gave up. Wynn had made his feelings clear. He'd told her it would be best if they didn't see each other again, and he'd meant it. Nine days with no word told her he wasn't changing his mind. Well, she had her pride, too.

  "What would you like me to tell him?" LaVonne asked.

  "Nothing. It's not important."

  "You could write him a letter," LaVonne suggested.

  "Perhaps I will," K.O. said on her way out the door, but she knew she wouldn't. It was over.

  Blossom Street seemed more alive than at any other time she could remember. A group of carolers performed at the corner, songbooks in their hands. An elderly gentleman rang a bell for charity outside the French Café, which was crowded with customers. Seeing how busy the place was, K.O. decided to purchase her Christmas dessert now, before they completely sold out.

  After adding a donation to the pot as she entered the café, she stood in a long line. When her turn finally came to order, she saw that one of the bakers was helping at the counter. K.O. knew Alix Townsend or, at least, she'd talked to her often enough to know her by name.

  "Merry Christmas, K.O.," Alix said.

  "Merry Christmas to you, too." K.O. surveyed the sweet delicacies behind the glass counter. "I need something that says Christmas," she murmured. The decorated cookies were festive but didn't seem quite right. A pumpkin pie would work, but it wasn't really special.

  "How about a small Bûche de Noël," Alix said. "It's a traditional French dessert— a fancy cake decorated with mocha cream frosting and shaped to look like a Yule log. I baked it myself from a special recipe of the owner's."

  "Bûche de Noël," K.O. repeated. It sounded perfect.

  "They're going fast," Alix pointed out.

  "Sold," K.O. said as the young woman went to collect one from the refrigerated case. It was then that K.O. noticed Alix's engagement ring.

  "Will there be anything else?" Alix asked, setting the pink box on the counter and tying it with string.

  "That diamond's new, isn't it?"

  Grinning, Alix examined her ring finger. "I got it last week. Jordan couldn't wait to give it to me."

  "Congratulations," K.O. told her. "When's the wedding?"

  Alix looked down at the diamond as if she could hardly take her eyes off it. "June."

  "That's fabulous."

  "I'm already talking to Susannah Nelson— she owns the flower shop across the street. Jacqueline, my friend, insists we hold the reception at the Country Club. If it was up to me, Jordan and I would just elope, but his family would never stand for that." She shrugged in a resigned way. "I love Jordan, and I don't care what I have to do, as long as I get to be his wife."

  The words echoed in K.O.'s heart as she walked out of the French Café with a final "Merry Christmas." She didn't know Alix Townsend all that well, but she liked her. Alix was entirely without pretense. No one need doubt how she felt about any particular subject; she spoke her mind in a straightforward manner that left nothing to speculation.

  K.O. passed Susannah's Garden, the flower shop, on her way to the bank. The owner and her husband stood out front, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. As K.O. walked past, Susannah handed her a sprig of holly with bright red berries.

  "Thank you— this is so nice," K.O. said, tucking the holly in her coat pocket. She loved the flower shop and the beauty it brought to the street.

  "I want to let the neighborhood know how much I appreciate the support. I've only been in business since September and everyone's been so helpful."

  "Here, have a cup of hot cider." Susannah's husband was handing out plastic cups from a small table set up beside him. "I'm Joe," he said.

  "Hello, Joe. I'm Katherine O'Connor."

  Susannah slid one arm around her husband's waist and gazed up at him with such adoration it was painful for K.O. to watch. Everywhere she turned, people were happy and in love. A knot formed in her throat. Putting on a happy, carefree face was getting harder by the minute.

  Just then the door to A Good Yarn opened and out came Lydia Goetz and a man K.O. assumed must be her husband. They were accompanied by a young boy, obviously their son. Lydia paused when she saw K.O.

  Lydia was well-known on the street.

  "Were you planning to stop in here?" she asked, and cast a quick glance at her husband. "Brad convinced me to close early today. I already sent my sister home, but if you need yarn, I'd be happy to get it for you. In fact, you could even pay me later." She looked at her husband again, as if to make sure he didn't object to the delay. "It wouldn't take more than a few minutes. I know what it's like to run out of yarn when you only need one ball to finish a project."

  "No, no, that's fine," K.O. said. She'd always wanted to learn to knit and now that LaVonne was taking a class, maybe she'd join, too.

  "Merry Christmas!" Lydia tucked her arm in her husband's.

  "Merry Christmas," K.O. returned. Soon they hurried down the street, with the boy trotting ahead.

  Transfixed, K.O. stood there unmoving. The lump that had formed in her throat grew huge. The whole world was in love, and she'd let the opportunity of her life slip away. She'd let Wynn go with barely a token protest, and that was wron
g. If she believed in their love, she needed to fight for it, instead of pretending everything was fine without him. Because it wasn't. In fact, she was downright miserable, and it was time she admitted it.

  She knew what she had to do. Afraid that if she didn't act quickly, she'd lose her nerve, K.O. ran back across the street and into her own building. Marching to the elevator, she punched the button and waited.

  She wasn't even sure what she'd tell Wynn; she'd figure that out when she saw him. But seeing him was a necessity. She couldn't spend another minute like this. She'd made a terrible mistake, and so had he. If there was any chance of salvaging this relationship, she had to try.

  Her heart seemed to be pounding at twice its normal rate as she rode the elevator upto Wynn's penthouse condominium. She'd only been inside once, and then briefly.

  By the time she reached his front door, she was so dizzy she'd become light-headed. That didn't deter her from ringing the buzzer and waiting for what felt like an eternity.

  Only it wasn't Wynn who opened the door. It was Max.

  "Katherine," he said, obviously surprised to find her at his son's door. "Come in."

  "Is Wynn available?" she asked, as winded as if she'd climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Talking to Wynn— now— had assumed a sense of urgency.

  Wynn stepped into the foyer and frowned when he saw her. "Katherine?" She could see the question in his eyes.

  "Merry Christmas," Max said. He didn't seem inclined to leave.

  "Could we talk?" she asked. "Privately?" She was terrified he'd tell her that everything had already been said, so she rushed to add, "Really, this will only take a moment and then I'll leave."

  Wynn glanced at his father, who took the hint and reluctantly left the entryway.

  K.O. remained standing there, clutching her purse with one hand and the pink box with the other. "I was out at the French Café and I talked to Alix."