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Bringing Home Christmas

Page 11

by Vicki Hinze


  The doorbell rang.

  Lauren was on her first cup of coffee, caffeinated, and still in her pajamas and robe. She peeked through the side-window and saw David, then opened the door. “You’re out and about early this morning.”

  He limped in carrying a bouquet of yellow roses. “I just left your mother at the hospital.”

  “Coffee?”

  He nodded, then sat down at the breakfast bar. “Finally, she’s turned the corner, Lauren. The medicines are working.” He smiled. “Jessica is encouraged. Actually, she’s hopeful.”

  Touched by his relief, even though she didn’t want to be, Lauren set a steaming mug of coffee before him. “It’s the best news, she said. “Jessica called about half an hour ago to let me know the danger has passed.”

  “Whew.” He shook his head. “I hope she doesn’t scare me like that again for a long time.”

  He was genuinely fond of her mother. That was clear. Visiting her twice a day and his relief was stark. It couldn’t be anything but sincere. “Why are you carrying flowers?”

  He looked at them as if surprised to see them in his hand. “Oh, I got sidetracked. Yellow roses were always your favorites.”

  “They still are.” Across the bar, standing in the kitchen, she leaned against the counter.

  “I came to ask for your forgiveness.” He passed her the flowers.

  Afraid to assume anything, she asked, “For what?” Half fearful of his answer, she reached into the cabinet for a vase, added water at the sink, then returned to the bar and began arranging the flowers.

  He sipped at his coffee. “It didn’t occur to me until our discussion how you might feel about me living in Holt Ridge.”

  She added a rose to the vase.

  “I didn’t intend to invade your space, Lauren. The thought that I might be hadn’t crossed my mind.” He dragged a thumb over his mug. “Maybe it should have, but it didn’t.”

  “I was surprised, I have to say.” She snipped the stem and placed another rose.

  “Okay, look. I blew it on two fronts,” he said. “Cut the next stem a little shorter.”

  She nodded. Left it longer.

  “First front, I didn’t look at me living here through your eyes. You say it isn’t why you stayed away, but that’s what everyone thought.”

  “I told you. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I know that now, but then, I didn’t, and I wondered for a good reason.”

  “What good reason?”

  “I made your mother promise not to tell you.” He dropped his gaze to the flowers.

  “But you never thought she’d actually do it—not tell me, I mean.”

  His face reddened. “I guess I was more persuasive than I thought.”

  “Persuasive?” Now that was an interesting response. Another flower into the vase. More jammed in than placed.

  “That’s my fault, too,” he confessed. “I told her you’d built a happy life for yourself without me in Atlanta.”

  Lauren stilled. “How would you know that?”

  Ignoring her question, he went on. “I also told her, after what I’d done, I had no right to disrupt your life again.”

  Convinced, Lauren’s skin prickled. “You watched me in Atlanta?”

  “I watched over you,” he corrected her. “Big difference.”

  “Seriously?” She forgot about messing with the flowers and glared at him. “I don’t think so.”

  “Rethink,” he suggested. “Your mom was worried, Lauren. You hadn’t returned here even once. You were, according to her, deliberately evasive about your life there. She loves you. Of course, she was worried.”

  She probably had been.

  “When I told her you were dating intermittently, she was relieved, and she was happy for you when you started seeing James.”

  He knew too much. Enough to know she wasn’t seriously involved with anyone, including James. “Sounds like a violation of privacy from where I’m standing.”

  “It wasn’t like that, I promise. I checked just enough to assure her that you were fine. Honestly, I’d hoped often that you’d find someone special and be happy.”

  Her heart skipped a wild beat and dropped. Pain filled the space. Why had he come here, insinuated himself into her life only to want her pawned off on someone else?

  It was three years ago all over again.

  She dumped the rest of the flowers into the vase and moved it down the breakfast bar, further away from her. “I understand,” she said, her voice frostier than the air outside. “You’re forgiven. Thank you for the roses. Now, it’s time for you to go.”

  “But I haven’t…”

  “I need to get to the hospital, David. You’ve had years to say anything you wanted to say, and you said nothing.” Oh, he’d seen the messages on her phone all right. “For the record, I haven’t found someone special in Atlanta and I am far from happy there. But I’m making a life. I’m trying. So, there’s no need for you to watch over me anymore.” She put her coffee cup into the sink. “I’ve got a full day. You do need to go now.”

  Defeated and maybe a little baffled, and definitely a lot disappointed, David respected her wishes and silently left the kitchen and then her home.

  When the front door closed, Lauren sat down at the bar, torn between fury and indulging in a pity party.

  Caroline walked in and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Lauren, you know I love you, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.” She swallowed a heartfelt sigh. “I love you, too.”

  “I remember our pact not to stick our noses into each other’s business. It’s been in place a long time and I haven’t violated it. But I can’t stay out of this one. It’s too important.”

  “What is this one?”

  “David.” Caroline leaned a hip against the counter. “I couldn’t help but hear it all, and, Lauren, you are making a huge mistake.”

  “Don’t go there,” Lauren warned her sister. “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand perfectly. You are the one who is bumbling around clueless.” Caroline pursed her lips and swiped a hand through her hair. “David told you about his injury, right? I mean, you have noticed the cane.”

  “He got hurt on a job.”

  “Did he tell you how extensive the damage was?”

  She shrugged. “He mentioned having a few surgeries, but that’s all.”

  “Good grief. Well, no wonder.” Caroline rolled her eyes back in her head. “Look, Lauren, you need to talk to him. No dancing around, just straight, plain talk. It’s important.”

  “You seem to know a lot I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “It’s his story to tell, and he needs to tell it to you.”

  Caroline took her coffee and left the kitchen.

  Lauren sat at the bar as torn and confused as ever. Her feelings were so mixed up on all of this, she couldn’t be more divided inside if she had two personalities. So, he had a story, and the answers.

  She worked through all the mental gymnastics of asking him, not asking him; talking straight and plain and saying not a word; and an hour later, she found the bottom line.

  Heaven help her. No matter what his answers were, nothing he could say or not say would change a thing. That truth washed through her like the current crashing water over rocks in the stream.

  She thought back to the night before. The way he’d held her hand in the sleigh, the tenderness in his eyes, their kisses… And the one thing she hadn’t done after getting into bed that was different from any other night in the past three years flashed through her mind, and stuck.

  She hadn’t listened to his voice mail. And she hadn’t read his text.

  Going perfectly still, she didn’t so much as blink. Another truth rushed through her. She still loved him as much as she ever had loved him.

  And he had hoped often to pawn her off on another man.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  When Caroline came back into the kitchen for a refill,
Lauren seized the moment. “Does David still love me?”

  Caroline didn’t pause pouring. “There’s only one way to find out.” She slid the pot back into place. “Ask him.”

  The challenge in her voice was clear. It wasn’t what Lauren wanted to hear, but it clearly was all Caroline was going to give her.

  Lauren slid off the stool. “I’ve got to get to the hospital.”

  “Then the Community—”

  “Yes, yes.” Lauren shushed her sister with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be back in time to dress for the dance.”

  “I’m skipping it.”

  Lauren turned and glared at her sister. “You are not skipping it. You’re going to be there and keep Rory civil and I won’t hear another word about it, Caroline. And I mean it.”

  “Oh, all right. All right.” She frowned. “Get the thorn out of your paw. I’ll go. I won’t like it, but I’ll go.”

  Lauren sniffed. “Frankly, sister, I don’t care right now what you like or don’t. I need you there, and you owe me.”

  “True. You’ve done the lion’s share of all this. So, I guess I do owe you. But don’t think for a second, I don’t know if I answered your questions about David, you’d be a lot nicer to me right now.”

  Lauren grunted. “Right now? Doubtful.”

  “You always did hate being confused.”

  She had. Still did. So she ignored the comment and headed down the hallway to her bedroom to dress.

  “Attitude is everything!” Caroline shouted through her closed door.

  Lauren rolled her eyes and said not a word. She hated it when Caroline was right and left Lauren with no defense.

  20

  December 23rd

  10:30 AM

  In the hospital parking lot, Lauren’s phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello.”

  “Lauren, it’s Mom.”

  Whose phone was she using? What had happened to her phone? “Good morning. I heard the good news.” She cut off the engine.

  “What good news?”

  “Your meds kicked in and you’ve turned the corner.”

  “True. True. That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Okay.” Lauren reached for her handbag.

  “Don’t fret. I’m calling to tell you to go ahead with your day. I know it’s crazy busy, with the dance tonight. Don’t bother stopping by here. I’m going to have a shower and get my hair done.”

  “You are feeling a lot better.”

  “The difference is amazing.” She laughed. “Just, if you have time, drop by after you’re dressed for the dance. I want to see you all dressed up.”

  She always had loved seeing her or Caroline dressed up. Lauren smiled and fished her lipstick from the side pocket of her purse. “Okay. I can do that.”

  “I know you’ll look lovely.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Lauren looked out the window. “Did you get the pictures I sent of the parade and the bonfire?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “Last night, everyone on the Ridge was sending me video clips and photos. Becky Grayson got so annoyed with my phone pinging, she confiscated it.” Her mother sniffed. “She said it was disturbing the other patients, but I’m thinking she just wanted to see everything first.”

  That explained the phone. “So how are you calling me?”

  “I borrowed Jason’s,” her mother said. “You know Jason, Jessica’s—”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Who would ever have thought our Jessica would fall in love with a truck-driving cowboy?”

  Not at all surprised her mother knew about that, Lauren asked, “How long is your phone going to be confiscated?”

  “Just until Jessica gets here in a few minutes. She’ll give it back to me. Isn’t it ridiculous that Becky took it?”

  “She’ll probably take it again tonight.” Unless Lauren was dead wrong, her mother would get even more videos and photos from the dinner and dance.”

  “Not if she doesn’t know I have it back. Jason’s getting me a substitute. Becky won’t get one call or picture to look at on it. He showed me how to turn off the bell, too. So, she won’t know I have it back.” Her mother laughed. “Clever, our Jason.”

  The sound of her laughter was magical to Lauren’s ears. “Very clever,” she said, tearing up. She would recover.

  “I heard you and David took a little sleigh ride last night.”

  “Bailey insisted.”

  “Did he insist on you two kissing, too? Twice?”

  Barbara Pope. Lauren should stitch her mouth closed. “No, Bailey didn’t know about that until it happened,” she said. “Actually, neither did I.”

  “Not what I heard.”

  Here it came. Lauren swiped on lipstick, then dropped the tube back into her handbag.

  “I heard you bartered a kiss for a jar of Liz Baker’s apple butter—for David.”

  “I did.” No sense lying about it. “He loves it, and I got caught up in the moment.”

  “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “Lauren, your whole life, any time you say you’re fine, you’re a wreck.”

  Did she? Probably so. “What can I say? I’m a wreck.”

  “Why, dear? From all reports, you and David have been getting along really well. Far better than anyone—especially you, I’m sure—expected.”

  “That’s the problem.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “What?” Lauren draped a hand over the steering wheel.

  “It’s occurred to you that you still love him.” Her voice was maddeningly neutral. “Not surprising.”

  “Maybe not to you.” Lauren grunted. “It gob-smacked me.”

  “Why? You did almost marry the man.”

  “And he ditched me.” She blinked hard, fighting back tears. She’d shed enough last night to last a lifetime and promised herself not another one would fall today. “Letting this happen again… What kind of fool am I?”

  “A brave one.”

  “Trust me, Mom, I am not brave.”

  “You’re the bravest woman I know,” she countered. “Now, the aide is here to take me for my bath.” A pause, then her mother added, “Lauren, think about what you said. We’ll talk more when you come this evening.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, not okay. Promise me.”

  She knew her daughter only too well. “I promise. I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. See you this evening, dear.”

  Lauren cycled off her phone and dumped it into her handbag, shutting off the conversation in her mind. “Where to next?” she asked herself.

  Community Hall. No doubt the preparations were well underway, but she should check on them. The hard part? David was certain to be there.

  “Just deal with it,” she mumbled to herself then issued a warning she so didn’t want to hear, she couldn’t speak it aloud.

  Act Two of dealing and coping and struggling to forget was about to begin…

  21

  December 23rd

  6:30 PM

  Lauren smoothed her dress, took in a deep breath, then entered her mother’s hospital room. Sitting up in bed, she looked wonderful. “You’ve got makeup on, and your hair looks great.” Lauren smiled. She was recovering now, no doubt about it.

  “Well, I can’t be at Community Hall, but I will be at the dance.”

  Lauren stilled. “How?”

  “Virtually.” She smiled and lifted her phone. “Rory is live streaming to me. Oh, it’s amazing, Lauren. I’ll see everything that happens.”

  “Rory?” For a recluse, he was sure getting around.

  “Oh, he’s quite the computer whiz,” Vanessa told her daughter.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Oh, yes. He designs those games people play.”

  “Rory’s a gamer?”

  “Has been for years.”

  That was a shocker.

  Oblivious, her mother went on. “And I have a b
ack-up plan to keep Becky Grayson from shutting me down.” She pointed to a laptop screen. “No pinging. It’s like watching a movie.”

  “Isn’t that something?” Lauren was moved by her mother’s delight.

  Her mother scanned her, from the tip of her head down to her toes. “I love the look,” she said. “Your hair looks chic pulled back and pinned up.” She twirled a finger. “Let me see the back.”

  “It’s a simple twist, Mom.” Still, Lauren twirled.

  “It’s perfect with that dress.”

  Black, shoulders cut out, a thin loop around her neck, with just a little sparkle. “I got it at Jessica’s mom’s shop.” She always had the best designs. “I didn’t expect to be going to the dance, so I didn’t bring anything to wear.”

  “It’s perfect.” She smiled. “You look…” She swallowed, emotional. “So beautiful, Lauren.”

  “Thank you.” Compliments such as that were rare from her mother. She was a fashion icon in town—part of her duties as a Holt—but Lauren had favored casual clothes. “I have to say, it’s nice to dress up now and then.”

  “I expect you don’t have many occasions to do that, teaching.”

  “Once in a while.” She shrugged. “But I love what I do.”

  “I know you do, and the children are lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you.” Another compliment? How odd…

  “I have a few things to tell you.” She dropped the phone near her side. “First, thank you for all your hard work here. It means a lot to me that you’d step in and do all I do for these events, Lauren.”

  “It wasn’t that much, and I could never measure up to what you do, Mom. You’re an icon in Holt Ridge.” How many times had she been asked about her mother? Been told about little things she’d done throughout the community to make lives better? Lauren had lost count on the first day.

  “I’ve gotten videos and pictures and calls from so many people, telling me what a wonderful job you and David were doing. Recruiting Rory as Santa was a stroke of pure genius.”

  “No, Rory insisted on playing Santa.” Lauren added, “Recruiting Caroline to keep Rory from being Grouchy Santa was a stroke of genius.” Lauren laughed.

 

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