He stooped and moved to a place where he could stand. She did the same.
He motioned her toward a window chair, and then sat in the other. “You don’t know my mother. She worries I’m going to be a bachelor forever.”
Pulling her robe tighter around her, she sat. “She sees me as a last chance.”
She understood. Thank you, Lord. He plowed on, braver. “She and my whole family love you…”
“But you don’t.”
He gaped, searching for a response. None came.
“I’m teasing you.”
He shut his mouth. “I was a jerk down there—”
“I know.”
“Then why are you so forgiving?”
“Because you crawling up here to “talk” is balm to my hurt ego.”
He extended his hand toward her. “So come with us—”
She tightened her grip on her bathrobe. “Don’t you dare grab my hand and pull me. I need to put some clothes on.”
“You’ll come with us?” Why did he hope she’d say yes? Maybe he was tired of feeling guilty.
“I wouldn’t be getting dressed to mope alone in my room, would I?”
He stood, hunched over, and walked to the door. “Hurry downstairs. We’ll want to have lots of time for the Holiday Blast so we can make it to the movie in plenty of time. Fran and Fannie picked the show, so the previews may be the best part. And we’re picking up Allison.”
****
Cisney scrambled to the seat in the rear of Roger’s van. Grandpa, Roger, and Bill hurried from the house carrying large paper sacks that they handed off to Tony and Nick, who packed them in the back of the van. Fannie and Fran piled in and sat next to Cisney while Nancy scooted into the middle seat.
Cisney set her handbag on the floor to give the twins more room. “What’s going on?”
Fran held a box the size of a medium-sized sheet cake on her lap. “It’s our turn to do the Holiday Blast.”
Would wonders never cease? The silent twin had uttered words. And her information was about as useful as Nick’s normal fare. “What’s the Holiday Blast?”
Fannie jumped in. “Many of the elderly in Aunt Ellie, Uncle Roger, and Nancy’s church would like to decorate for the holidays, but find it’s too hard or exhausting or dangerous. A lot of them have cherished ornaments and other decorations that sit in boxes in attics or basements. So different teams from the church go out and decorate their houses or apartments with their ornaments.” She pointed to the box on Fran’s lap. “Every year, we add a new ornament to each household.”
“That’s awesome.” Cisney risked Fran slapping her hand and lifted the lid. Colorful Christmas tree ornaments covered the bottom of the box. “I’m glad to see you’re decorating for Christmas and not Thanksgiving.”
Nancy leaned against the window. “Although, Easter and other holidays are available, our family always does Christmas while we’re all here to participate. We go out late like this on Thanksgiving Day so we can take fresh turkey sandwiches, tossed salads, and pie slices to each household. You may not have noticed that Mom had two turkeys cooking this morning. And right before we sit down to eat, Grandma Thelma slides more pies into the oven.“
“I wondered why there were so many pies and vegetables.” What a good use of the LeCrone’s two ovens. “This whole idea is amazing.”
“Yeah,” Fannie said. “At the homes, we take down and pack away Thanksgiving decorations that another team put up, and then decorate for Christmas. It’s been part of our Thanksgiving Day tradition for five years.”
“Six,” Fran said.
Nick climbed into the driver’s seat and power closed the lift-gate. Tony rode shotgun in the front passenger seat.
A few blocks away, if the winding road could be said to have blocks, Nick stopped at a large Tudor-like house and picked up waiting Allison. She offered greetings around and sat next to Nancy.
As Nick drove on, Tony consulted a sheet of paper. “We’ll need to split up into three teams. Fan and Fran, do you guys want to take the apartments like always?”
“Yes.” Fran spoke over his last words.
Tony turned in his seat. “Who do you want to go with, Cisney?”
She startled. “Whomever. It doesn’t matter.” But it did. She’d assumed she’d be sticking with Nick. And wanted to. But Nick failed to jump in and claim her. He remained silent. She felt like the last person standing by herself when team captains took turns calling players from the group to join their teams. She’d never had that experience, but now she could identify.
Nancy snatched the paper from Tony’s hand and studied it. “Three of us have to go to the neighborhood near the church, because we have three houses there and need the manpower to get them all done in time.”
Tony seized the paper back. “OK. So, Cisney, why don’t you come with Allison and me there.”
Cisney forced out a cheerful, “Sure.”
Was Nick jumping joyously inwardly?
Nancy held up her hand. “Stop. Wait a minute. As much as I love my brother, I think Cisney should go with Nick.”
Tony stared at her. “Why?”
“Let’s take a vote,” Allison said, laughing.
All, except Nick, agreed.
Were they joking? Obviously, yes, but who was the joke on. Nick, or her, or both? Was this payback for leading the family astray with the engagement false alarm?
Head-in-the-sand Nick kept driving as if he were merely a chauffeur surrounded by soundproof glass.
“All in favor of Cisney going with Tony and Allison raise your hand,” Nancy said.
Tony’s hand shot up. Snickers emitted from the women on all sides, but no arms went up.
“All in favor of Cisney going with Nick raise your hand.”
Every woman’s hand rose, except Cisney’s. Nick hadn’t voted this time, either. More snickering from the women. It hit her. They were cupids wielding their votes like arrows in their bows. They were for her, not against her. She should be honored.
Her lips trembled as she held back from laughing. “I’d be honored to join my gracious weekend host.”
Nick spoke over his shoulder. “Nice to hear there’s one adult in this sorry gang.”
That had been a vote of confidence, of sorts. She’d be satisfied with it.
Nick dropped Tony, Nancy, and Allison in the neighborhood near the church, where their three elderly participants, all widows, lived in homes within walking distance.
Nick lowered his window. “I’ll pick you up here in three hours, so we can make the eight o’clock show.”
At an apartment complex, the twins scrambled out, collected two ornaments from the box and three paper bags from the back of the van, and headed toward a ground-floor apartment. Cisney switched to the front passenger seat, riding shotgun.
Nick pulled out of the complex lot. “Fran and Fannie will decorate two apartments, one for a couple married sixty years and the other for a widow in her nineties. Are you ready for this?”
Cisney nodded. “I love this ministry.”
He looked over at her. “I apologize for my family.”
“Not a problem. They’re fun. Who’s on our list?”
“We have two in this next neighborhood.” He made a turn. “Mr. Palmer, a widower, and the Hansons, a couple who used to be very active in the church until he had a stroke.”
Mr. Palmer answered the door. He was thin, and his shoulders hunched. “Well, hello, Nick.” Mr. Palmer stepped aside. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home.”
They moved inside, and Mr. Palmer shuffled to close the door. “And who’s this young lady?”
“This is Cisney Baldwin.”
Well, well. Nick hadn’t clarified she was a co-worker. Gutsy for him to leave the door open for Mr. Palmer to think they were a couple. Was he being kind to her, or was he so low on communication skills that he didn’t think to protect himself?
Mr. Palmer returned from taking his sack of food into the kitchen. “Since
I had so few Thanksgiving decorations and put them away myself, I’ll just show you where I keep the Christmas stuff.” Mr. Palmer slowly led Nick down a hallway.
Cisney looked around. By the ruts in the carpet, Mr. Palmer had moved the small table from the picture window to the side of a stuffed armchair. Over in one corner a piano stood away from the clutter of furniture.
She wandered over and rested her hand on the closed piano cover and then inspected several framed photos. Most were probably grandchildren and one showed a younger Mr. Palmer and a woman who was certainly Mrs. Palmer. In the photo, he stood facing his laughing wife with eyes only for her.
Cisney raised her hand to press against her aching throat that had accompanied her misting eyes. Dust covered her hand. She glanced toward the hall, quickly produced a tissue from her handbag, and wiped her palm, then stuck the tissue in a side pocket of her purse.
When she heard the men’s voices, she stepped to the center of the room. How long would it be, if ever, before Mr. Palmer noticed her handprint on the piano cover?
Mr. Palmer carried a red and green Christmas tree stand while Nick hefted two large boxes stacked on top of each other. He leaned his head to the side to see where he was going. She strode over and removed the top box and set it on the carpet.
Nick went to work on putting together a seven-foot artificial tree in front of the picture window. Cisney sat on the arm of Mr. Palmer’s stuffed chair while he lifted ornaments from a box he’d taken from one of the bigger boxes and placed on his lap. If only she could take out her phone and record his precious descriptions of how he and Blanche had obtained each ornament. But he might feel like Cisney was interviewing him and clam up.
Nick caught her eye and held up dangling lengths of tinsel. He gave her his I-could-use-a-little-help-here look.
She rolled her eyes and bent over to examine an angel made of white feathers that Mr. Palmer said his daughter made in fifth grade.
Nick dusted his hands together. “OK, Mr. Palmer, she’s up and ready for the ornaments. You hand them to us and tell us where you want them to go.”
Cisney placed a hand on Mr. Palmer’s arm. “Does your piano work?”
“I think so. No one’s played it in three years, not since Blanche passed. None of the kids took lessons.”
“Would you mind if I play some Christmas carols while you and Nick decorate the tree?”
“No. Have at it. It’ll be good to hear some music in this old house.”
****
Nick and Cisney walked down Mr. Palmer’s sidewalk toward the van.
Nick stopped and looked back at the lighted tree. It looked good. He lifted his hand in farewell to Mr. Palmer standing on the porch.
Mr. Palmer returned his wave. “Send me an announcement after you two get married.”
Nick opened his mouth to refute the statement, and then clamped it shut and waved again. A snicker came from Cisney ahead of him. Their engagement was a phenomenon that just wouldn’t quit. She picked up speed and climbed into the car before he could open the door for her. Behind the windshield, she was bent over laughing. He climbed in, shaking his head, and then gave in to a small chuckle. Probably as much from her giggles as from the absurdness of the situation.
He backed out of the driveway. “We’re behind schedule because someone didn’t help decorate.”
She stuck out her bottom lip.
“But I have to admit that was the happiest I’ve seen Mr. Palmer.”
Her gorgeous hazel eyes grew huge. “Really?”
He nodded. Her little kiss to Mr. Palmer’s cheek as they left would cause sugarplums to dance in the elderly man’s head for a week. “But no shirking your decorating duty at the Hansons, even if they have a piano.”
****
Nick turned the van into the cinema parking lot.
“OK, Fannie, we’re here,” Tony said. “Which movie?”
“It’s the eight o’clock romantic comedy rated PG,” Fannie said.
“What? We have to guess which one?”
“I don’t care which one it is,” Nancy said, “as long as it isn’t a shoot-‘em-up movie with one chase scene after another, like the one Tony and Nick picked last year.”
Inside the theater near the concession counter, Cisney withdrew her wallet from her handbag.
Nick stepped over to her and spoke close to her ear, smelling the fresh peachy scent of her hair. “Put your wallet away. Dad takes great pleasure in funding movie night and would be hurt if you paid for anything. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to drop us off anymore.”
“I’m not part of the family. I don’t want your dad paying for my treat.”
“Cisney. Put. Your. Wallet. Away.”
She made a face and complied. For once.
He stood in line behind her, the popcorn aroma changing his mind to abstain from eating another bite after the Thanksgiving feast.
“How long have you been doing the Ping-Pong and movie traditions?” she asked.
“Since the twins were in first grade, and we went to Disney movies.”
“Wow.” She moved forward in line. “You have a really nice family, Nick. They’re so friendly and fun.”
“You think so, after the voting thing in the car?”
“They’re just romantics, that’s all.”
He nodded toward Tony animatedly talking to Allison in the next line. “Some too romantic?”
“Tony?”
“Yeah.”
“I like Tony. He’s a tease, but he’s also a gentleman and seems good-natured.”
He couldn’t argue with her on that.
“You want to share a popcorn?” she asked.
“Sure. You want butter?”
Her lips tightened as if she tasted dirt. “I don’t usually, but if that’s the way you like it, butter’s fine with me.”
“You sure?”
She nodded and advanced to the counter, where the server glanced at the line forming behind them and held his fingers poised over the register. Cisney surveyed the candy behind the glass. “I’ll have…” She ran her finger along the display case.
The server shifted his weight, and Nick gave the guy a sympathetic smile.
She jabbed the glass. “I’ll have that—no, make it that,” she said and pointed. “And a diet orange soda.”
Nick ordered a large popcorn, no butter, and a soft drink.
Cisney and Dana couldn’t differ more. Dana would have done less chitchatting in line and spent more time contemplating her order. She was no time waster. He’d respected that about her. Lord, am I crazy for subjecting myself to Dana tomorrow? I haven’t sensed your usual pressure that I’m off track.
As a youth collected the women’s tickets, Tony edged over to Nick. “How about letting me sit next to Cisney.”
“Sorry, chum, we’re sharing popcorn. Besides, I think Allison would be hurt.”
“Hey, man, why do you think I have two sides?”
“Well, if Cisney doesn’t object, sit on her other side. Just don’t talk during the movie.”
Would Cisney babble through the show? Few things irked him more. Dana never said a word after the lights went down. Dating cool, calm Dana held no unhappy surprises…until she broke it off with him.
Inside the theater, the twins chose a row halfway from the back and filed in.
Cisney stepped into the row.
Tony grasped her elbow. “Let Nick go in next so I can sit between you and Allison.”
Cisney moved out of the row and pointed at Nick. “Just don’t separate me from his popcorn.”
Nick sidled in, and then Cisney, Tony, Allison, and Nancy.
Cisney worked on opening her box of candy while Tony and Allison talked. She got her fingernail under the flap but couldn’t get the glue to budge. She tried the other end and then went back to work on the flap. The top layer of the flap skimmed back, leaving the box sealed.
Nick stuck out his hand, palm up. She gave him the box, and he opened it.
<
br /> “My hero,” she whispered.
He grinned and tilted the popcorn bucket toward her.
She shook her head. “I eat all my candy first,” she whispered.
“But the popcorn’s best when it’s hot.”
“That’s OK, you go ahead.” She turned to face him and drew her finger across the outside of the bucket halfway up its side. “Stop here, and I’ll take over,” she whispered.
“The movie hasn’t started yet, you don’t have to whisper.”
“In movies, my family never talked above a whisper, if at all, or Daddy wouldn’t bring us again for a long time.” Her beautiful eyes widened. “You don’t talk during the movie, do you?”
“No.” He held up the popcorn container, glad they agreed on one thing. “You do know the bucket is somewhat cone-shaped and half the popcorn is about here.” He moved his finger up on the bucket from where she’d drawn her line.
“Shame on you, Risk Man. You didn’t take into consideration that they were chintzy on popcorn. The kernels reach a half-inch short of the top. And you didn’t take into account that I’m smaller than you and don’t eat as much.”
He chuckled. Risk Man?
She put her fingers to her puckered lips. “Shh.”
He had taken into consideration a less than full bucket. But she ate less? He’d let her have her victory. She was something else.
****
Cisney savored the dark chocolate taste of her candy and the crunchy white nonpareils on top. What could be better than chocolate and holding her own in a sparring match with Nick on the technical aspects of sharing popcorn? In a lot of ways, being around a man who wouldn’t make Daddy’s list was a relief. No pressure. No trying to figure out what he liked and disliked in a woman. She could be herself.
She gave Nick a sideways glance. He was endearingly cute when he laughed. Did he know that? The faint dimple and the crinkles beside his eyes changed his whole countenance. Nice teeth, too, except right now they chomped on a mouthful of popcorn. Why did all the men she knew do that? Scoop up a handful of popcorn or peanuts and toss the whole bunch into their mouths? She liked to eat one or two kernels at a time to make them last. The same with her candy.
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