One Charmed Christmas

by Sheila Roberts

  Then she drove home, set her bedside alarm clock for two hours, fell back on her bed and...lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind whirling. She should rest. She’d be exhausted.

  She was too excited to sleep.

  She finally gave up. She called her son and asked him to come pick up Cookie for an overnight.

  “You going out?” William asked.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “With Denise?”

  “No, someone else.”

  “Who?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Just a friend.”

  “What does that mean? What friend?”

  “Someone I met on the cruise.”

  “On the cruise! You never told me you met someone on the cruise.”

  “I met a lot of nice people.”

  “Is this a man?” Will demanded.

  “Well, yes.”

  “Mom, you’ve got to be careful. What do you know about this guy, anyway? For all you know he could be a fortune hunter.”

  Catherine thought of Athena and smiled. She and William had a lot in common.

  “Don’t worry. He’s fine. Now, are you going to come pick up Cookie?”

  “Yeah,” he said, not sounding happy. “We’re going out but the babysitter and the kids can watch her. Jeez, Mom. You don’t tell us anything.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  “I want to know if some fortune hunter’s after you.”

  She chuckled. “If that’s why he’s after me he’ll be sorely disappointed since I don’t have a fortune. Maybe he wants me for my body.”

  “Mom, stop it,” William said, shocked.

  “I’ve got to get ready. Thanks for watching Cookie.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said irritably. “I don’t like this.”

  “I know,” Catherine said, and smiled.

  She took a bath, fixed herself a little snack, then got busy doing her hair and makeup. Struggled into the pantyhose. By the time she was done she looked...like an overweight, older woman in a black party dress. Nothing special. What had Rudy seen in her, anyway?

  At the last minute she put on her jewelry, dabbed perfume behind her ears and on her wrists and slipped into the black heels. They were ten years old. She’d almost forgotten how to walk in heels. She checked herself in the long mirror hanging on the closet door. Now she looked...like an overweight, older woman in a black party dress.

  William arrived half an hour before Rudy was due.

  “How do I look?” Catherine asked him.

  “You look good,” he said. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You don’t even know where he’s taking you?”

  “It doesn’t matter where he’s taking me.” She’d go anywhere with Rudy Nichols.

  “Keep your cell phone on in case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case you need to call me. And don’t stay out too late.”

  “When’s my curfew?” she teased.

  “Not funny, Mom. You watch yourself.”

  “I will,” she assured him.

  He nodded, then went to fetch Cookie’s crate.

  “Have you told Lila about this?” he asked when he returned.

  “No, but I will.”

  “She’ll probably think it’s great,” he said irritably. “She reads too many romance novels.”

  “Every woman needs a little romance,” Catherine said lightly, making him shake his head.

  He and Cookie left and then it was just her, sitting in her living room, waiting for Rudy. Her and the butterflies.

  At ten minutes to seven the doorbell rang and her heart shot clear up into her throat. He was here, this was it.

  She swallowed hard in an effort to calm her nerves, got up, smoothed her dress and went to the door. She opened it and there he stood, holding a bouquet of pink roses and a bottle of champagne.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  Not half as good as him. “Do I?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  She stepped aside. “Come in.”

  He did, looking around as he went. There wasn’t much to see in the hallway, only a hall table with a vase holding red silk poinsettias. A Kinkade print hanging on the wall. She led him into the living room.

  “This is so homey,” he said, taking in the tree and decorations. He handed her the bouquet and champagne. “I thought maybe for later,” he said tentatively.

  “That was so thoughtful of you. Let me just put these in water. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

  For later, she thought as she put the champagne in the refrigerator and found a tall cut-glass vase for the roses. She set it on her dining table, next to the glass globe his daughter had given her, then returned to the living room where he’d perched on the edge of the sofa. She sat down on the other end.

  “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” he said.

  “A little.”

  “I missed you,” he said simply.

  “I missed you, too. How’s Athena?”

  “She’s fine. She says hi, by the way.”

  “That was nice of her,” Catherine said.

  “She’s a good daughter.” He checked his watch. “I suppose we should go. I have reservations at Canlis for seven-thirty.”

  “Canlis?” she echoed. One of the most expensive and exclusive restaurants in Seattle. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

  “Why? Isn’t it good? I looked it up online and it seemed okay.”

  “It’s very expensive.”

  He grinned. “That’s all right. I can afford it. By the way, I’m spending this money with my daughter’s permission,” he added. “And that’s saying something.” He sobered. “Catherine, we left things pretty up in the air.”

  She bit her lip. Remembering their last conversation, she felt like a kite that had lost wind and crashed to the ground.

  “I’m here because I want to be involved in your life.”

  “After everything you’ve been through?” It wasn’t fair to ask him, really. “You know what I have waiting for me in the new year.”

  “I know. I also know that this is a very beatable cancer. The treatment your doctor has ordered is, most likely, insurance. If I’d been thinking I would have realized that.”

  “There are no guarantees. My oncologist will be checking me every three months. It could come back.” Simply saying the words was enough to freeze her blood.

  He moved to sit next to her and took her hand. “You’re right, it could, and there are no guarantees. I could have a heart attack tomorrow, get hit by a car. But that’s life, isn’t it? Unpredictable, full of good and bad and ups and downs. If you spend all your time worrying about the bumps in the road you’ll never get anywhere and you sure won’t have much of a life. I don’t want to do that, Catherine. You’re a special lady and I want to be with you. I think the bad times are done with us for a while and we might actually have some good times waiting ahead. Let’s see where this leads.”

  She so wanted to see where it led, wanted to be with Rudy. But... “The next few months are not going to be pretty.” Her lower lip began to wobble. “I won’t have any hair.”

  A stupid thing to bring up. What did losing hair matter compared to the possibility of losing her life?

  He kissed her hand. “It wasn’t your hair that attracted me to you in the first place. It was your sweet smile and kind heart. I want to keep what we started going. Don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Yes!”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go check out that restaurant. I’m starving.”

  And so they did, eating at a window table, dining on prawns and grilled albacore, enjoying the view of Lake Union below. After their meal they returned to Catherine�
��s house where she fed him cookies and they talked until nearly midnight.

  “You’re exhausted,” he said. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

  “I’m glad you did,” she said. “Shall we ring in the new year with some of that champagne?”

  “One glass. Then I’ll leave and let you get some rest. I’m here until the second if you’d like to get together tomorrow.”

  “I certainly would,” she said. “Come over and I’ll make a roast.”

  “I haven’t had a roast since... It’s been a long time. I’d love that.”

  He opened the champagne and poured it into two of her champagne glasses. “To the new road ahead of us,” he toasted.

  She could drink to that.

  “Happy New Year, Catherine,” he said after they’d sampled the champagne, then he kissed her.

  And the butterflies went crazy.

  * * *

  Sierra was hosting a girlfriend New Year’s Eve party, which had given Sophie permission to enjoy the party Trevor threw at his Portland condo. She’d liked his friends and had been happy to see some of the people who helped him run his company again. Many of them she’d met on her previous visit to Portland.

  She’d also met his brother’s girlfriend and was glad to see her and Kurt at the party. Sophie could easily envision doing things together as couples in the future.

  “Having fun?” Trevor asked as the guests started getting their champagne ready to toast in the new year.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I like all your friends.”

  “And they like you. But then, what’s not to like?” he added with a grin. He helped himself to another shrimp from a nearby platter and gave her one, too.

  Shrimp, lobster mac and cheese, pork sliders, cookies, chocolate—she’d eaten enough food to last her for a week.

  “Hey,” someone called, pointing to the TV hanging over the fireplace. “Countdown’s started.”

  Everyone chimed in, counting down the seconds. And then, just like that, it was a new year.

  “Happy New Year,” Trevor said to Sophie, and kissed her. With a kiss like that he should have had a fire extinguisher handy.

  “Ecstatic New Year,” she corrected him. “Seriously, where did you ever learn to kiss like that? Wait. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  “That’s just the warm-up. Wait till we get to the main event.”

  She was ready for the main event.

  Or not. Suddenly she was feeling...

  “Oh, my gosh!” She made a dash for the bathroom, still holding her champagne glass and sloshing champagne everywhere.

  She barely made it to the toilet in time. Her poor, unhappy stomach. She shouldn’t have had that shrimp. How long had it been sitting out? Food poisoning. She had food poisoning.

  She could hear people talking out in the other room. Were they talking about her? She was going to die of embarrassment.

  Or food poisoning.

  She leaned her head against the toilet, bracing for round two.

  Round two wasn’t any more fun than round one.

  She was still recovering from that when she heard a knock on the bathroom door, followed by Trevor’s voice. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t think so,” she whimpered.

  “Can I come in? Are you decent?”

  “Yes.” She spooled off some toilet paper and wiped her mouth. He was probably grateful he’d kissed her when he did. One disaster narrowly avoided, anyway.

  He came in and saw her sitting in front of the toilet. “Uh-oh.”

  “I think I’ve got food poisoning,” she told him. “The shrimp.”

  “I just ate some. Are you sure it was the shrimp?”

  “I’m sure. We should call 911.”

  “Never mind that. I can get you to the emergency room faster.” He held out his hand.

  “You can’t leave your guests,” she protested.

  “Kurt and Misty can keep ’em entertained. Come on.” She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

  They emerged from the bathroom, Sophie on shaky legs, feeling both miserable and embarrassed.

  “Are you okay, Sophie?” asked Char, who was in charge of production at Cupid’s Chocolates.

  “I’m taking her to the emergency room,” Trevor said. “Misty, can you grab her coat?”

  “Sure,” Misty said, hurrying to fetch it.

  “Don’t anybody eat any more of the shrimp,” put in Sophie.

  “Oh, my God, I just had six,” said Trevor’s buddy Mike.

  “Oh, no,” Sophie fretted as Trevor bundled her into her coat, then hustled her out of the condo.

  “Never mind him. Let’s take care of you,” Trevor said, and rushed her out the door.

  “Call us,” Kurt called after him.

  A moment later they were in his car and speeding down the street like a demon. He took a corner at top speed and Sophie’s stomach did the wave. Noooo. No barfing in Trevor’s car. She swallowed hard, determined not to make things any worse for him than she already had.

  Her stomach got the message and behaved, and in another five minutes they were walking through the emergency room doors.

  “She needs a doctor,” Trevor said to the woman manning the check-in desk.

  So did about half a dozen other people—all in various stages of dress. A woman in her twenties was wearing jeans and a parka and slippers, a foot with a makeshift ice bag propped up on her boyfriend’s leg. A middle-aged couple sat in a corner, both thumbing through magazines and looking cranky. The man let out a phlegmy cough that had probably just sent a million attack germs into the air, and Sophie covered her face with her jacket sleeve.

  An older woman and her daughter sat together, and the daughter’s words drifted over to where Sophie and Trevor stood. “There’s nothing wrong with you. We’ve gone through this before. It’s just a panic attack.”

  Would that be Trevor talking to Sophie someday?

  “That’s easy for you to say,” the mother retorted. “You’re not the one panicking.”

  “Insurance?” the woman at reception asked Sophie.

  She dug out her insurance card. She didn’t feel all that bad anymore. She should never have made him bring her.

  “Maybe we should go,” she said to him. “I think I feel better.” And she sure wouldn’t feel good if she stayed around Mr. Germ much longer.

  “We should check you out,” he said. “Better safe than sorry.”

  The woman printed out a wristband and put it on Sophie and they found a couple of seats far from Mr. Germ.

  “I’m sorry you had to leave your guests,” Sophie said.

  He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

  She looked to where the woman sat with her daughter and asked in a low voice, “Is that going to be me someday?”

  “Nah. You’ll be much better looking.”

  Trevor March had the best ever bedside manner.

  One by one the other patients disappeared into exam rooms until it was only Sophie and Trevor in the waiting room. “All your friends will have gone home by the time we get back,” she fretted.

  “Are you kidding? Not that bunch, not on New Year’s Eve.”

  “I really don’t feel so bad now. We should go.”

  “We’re here now. Let’s stay and get you checked out. Better safe than sorry.”

  A sliding door to an exam room opened and a nurse stepped out, paperwork in hand. “Sophie Miles,” she called.

  “There you go. Be sure and tell her what you ate,” Trevor said.

  She nodded and went into the exam room. Had her temperature taken and blood pressure measured by the nurse. Got a blood test. And then, when the doctor appeared, told him what she’d eaten. Good Lord, had she really consumed that much?


  “I think we can rule out food poisoning,” the doctor said. “You have no fever, no stomach cramps, no diarrhea. No more nausea, right?”

  She shook her head.

  “And you’re not dehydrated.”

  “But I ate shrimp.”

  The doctor nodded. “I understand. But you ate quite a few other things as well. I suspect they didn’t play well together.”

  “So I’m okay?”

  “You’re good to go,” he assured her. “Go home, drink some ginger ale and get some rest. Happy New Year.”

  Relieved New Year.

  No, more like Embarrassing New Year, she thought as she rejoined Trevor.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, standing up.

  She nodded. Then sighed. “My sister’s right. I am a squirrel.”

  “Everybody loves squirrels,” he said easily. “They’re cute.”

  “I’m really sorry I dragged you out. Gosh, what a pain in the neck I am.”

  “Do you hear me complaining?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Not ever,” he promised. He slung an arm around her and started guiding her out of the emergency room.

  “It could have been food poisoning,” she ventured. How did you know unless you went to the doctor?

  “It could have,” he said diplomatically. “From now on I’m going to keep a close eye on what you eat.”

  “Kind of hard to do when I live up in Seattle.”

  “So move to Portland. You can work anywhere, right?”

  Hmm. She could.

  “If I did...” she began.

  “Let’s leave the ifs out of it. Say you will.”

  “Only if you promise to cure me of hypochondria.”

  “That will require a lot of time on the couch,” he said, and pulled her to him for a kiss.

  New Beginnings

  There had been some bumps in the road, but Rudy had been true to his word and helped Catherine win over everyone. On seeing how happy they were together, William had given his stamp of approval, and so had Lila.