by Jean Joachim
"To Mom…still the most original and surprising gift giver in the family!"
Everyone raised their coffee and tea to complete the toast. Fran blushed a becoming shade of light pink and the gift giving was over.
"Next on the schedule is brunch. John, you're up!"
"Who's helping? Need table set, someone to man the toast…"
One by one the siblings got up and volunteered for tasks or offered the services of their spouses.
"Grey, would you and Colin please shovel the path to the lake? We'll want to be walking that way later," Fran asked, putting her hand on Grey's forearm.
"Thank you for the great gifts, Fran," Carrie said.
Fran pulled her into a hug. "So happy to have you in our family, Carrie. You add the touch of class we were missing."
Carrie blushed and Grey grinned.
"Come on, Punk, get the shovels and let's get going," Grey said, giving his brother an affectionate shove, "or should we put on these shirts first?"
"Looking to disappear in your room with Carrie? Can't wait an hour for you to tear yourself away from her to shovel snow. Let's go," Colin quipped, grabbing Grey's sleeve and pulling him toward the back door.
"There you go again. Do I have to smack some sense into you?" Grey said heading toward the back door as Colin eluded his grasp.
"I don't want anyone in those shirts until after we eat anyway. Want them clean for the picture," Fran said, twining her arm with Carrie's and moving them both toward the kitchen.
Grey and Colin threw on coats, hats, gloves and went outside.
Chapter Six
Meals for nine at the Andrews house were noisy. Beginning with the clinking of knives and forks the mealtime clatter rose to include laughter, voices raised in argument and the hum of requests to "pass this" or "please pass that". Carrie had worked on the toast with Bill. She got to know him better as they joked and talked while toasting and buttering freshly baked multigrain bread from the tiny new bakery in town.
"I'm starved. It's warmed up and the snow got so damned heavy," Colin said before tucking into his plate piled high with ham and eggs.
"Stuff is melting, all right. Made shoveling much harder," Grey said.
"Poor baby brothers are tired…do they need a nap?" Barbara teased.
Both men shot her cutting looks and continued eating. Grey lifted a piece of bread to his mouth.
"You did the toast, didn't you?" Grey asked Carrie.
She nodded as she munched on a piece of ham. He took a big bite of the crispy, buttery bread and smiled while he chewed. After swallowing it he said, "it's perfect."
Carrie leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek while her mouth worked on a piece of scrambled egg.
"How's the egg?"
She nodded, her mouth full.
"Can I have a taste?"
She shot him a quizzical look and started to cut some off with her fork after glancing at his plate where he had the same food.
"Not with your fork, like this," he said, leaning over, his mouth aimed at hers.
Carrie shook her head rapidly, swallowed quickly then started to laugh. Her huge guffaw got the attention of the group. Everyone stopped talking to look at her and she couldn't stop laughing.
"What's so hilarious?" Barbara asked.
Carrie's face started to burn as she kept laughing, gasping for breath. Grey looked around. Crap, don't want to tell you what your brother did to me in the French restaurant.
"Nothing, nothing. A silly stupid…private joke." Carrie fanned herself for a moment.
The family continued to stare. Grey offered Carrie his glass of water and she stopped laughing long enough to take a gulp.
"What time is Emma coming?" Jenna asked her mother.
That started conversation and attention turned away from Carrie. She shot a dirty look at Grey.
"What?" He raised his eyebrows and turned his hand palm up, feigning innocence.
"What? You know what. Don't ever do that again…here, in front of your family."
"So I wanted to stick my tongue in your mouth to taste the egg."
"Grey!"
"Okay, okay. Won't do it again. But you can't stop me from thinking about it."
He flashed her a wicked grin and she chuckled back at him.
"He's always up to something, isn't he?" Barbara said stopping to lean over and whisper to Carrie as she headed toward the kitchen.
"Who me?" Grey's look of fake naiveté caused Barbara to laugh.
"Now you tell me," Carrie tossed off.
****
It seemed like every hour Carrie grew more and more comfortable with Grey's family. She loved the big old house, drafty and chilly in some places, too warm in others, like when you're sitting too close to the fire or cooking in the kitchen. She helped to clear the table while Grey went to poke at the fire in the giant stone fireplace in the living room. When Carrie peeked in, she spied the pugs, Daisy and Buster, stretched out on the rug, warming their faces with the heat emanating from the fire as they dozed and snored.
After he finished refreshing the fire with new logs, Grey sat on the floor to pet the chubby pugs who rolled over, baring their bellies for his special brand of belly-rub. Standing in the kitchen doorway, Carrie watched him as she dried her hands on a dish towel. She imagined him on the floor in front of the fire in their townhouse playing with an infant, their infant. She shook her head slightly to loosen the image. Slow down! Not even married yet. But the image popped back up, making her smile.
Grey turned his head toward her. A smile spread across his face as his gaze connected with hers. She could feel his love from across the room, its heat cutting through the slight chill in the air to surround her, warm her and an answering smile appeared on her face. She had never had such a strong connection with a man before, even with her ex-husband. They were kids together, rash, impetuous, leaping into marriage too soon. There were plenty of men she was sexually attracted to since her divorce but none who elicited feelings as deep in her as Grey did. Not even close. It appeared to be so elemental. He was man. She was woman and together they were an invincible team. Carrie's pulse quickened as she gazed at the man she adored. Simply the grip of his hand on hers spread happiness throughout her body.
The sound of the doorbell jarred her. Grey popped up and crossed to the front door before Carrie shook off her reverie.
"Carrie! I think your cake is done."
The call from Fran in the kitchen grabbed Carrie's attention and she returned to take her spice cake out of the oven. When she opened the oven door, her eyes inspected the cake but her ears were listening to the exchange by the front door. The voices were slightly muffled but Carrie detected a female voice mixing with Grey's baritone. She took the confection out of the oven and placed it on the window sill.
"That must be Emma. Where are the lemon bars?" Jenna asked, her eyes darting from Carrie to Fran and back again.
"Pour her some coffee and put these on a plate, Jenna," Fran said, handing her the pan of the cooled cookies.
Carrie watched as Jenna's hand shook slightly and she avoided Carrie's stare.
Emma. Only a friend?
Carrie took off her apron and hung it on a hook next to the refrigerator before she headed for the hall.
"Wait!" Jenna cried, putting her hand on Carrie's arm.
Fran handed Jenna a small plate of lemon bars and Jenna juggled it with the mug of coffee.
"Okay," she said, easing herself through the arched entrance ahead of Carrie.
Carrie could see a black knitted hat being removed to reveal dark auburn hair. She stopped in the doorway as Jenna greeted the newcomer with a kiss on the cheek then went into the living room. Grey took the young woman's black coat. While he folded it over his arm, the woman put a package she had tucked under her arm down on the small foyer table and threw her arms around him, planting a big kiss on his lips. Grey fumbled with her coat and stepped back, out of her embrace.
The hair on the back of Carrie's neck pric
kled. She watched a blush start up Grey's cheeks as he stammered a greeting to the impetuous woman. Carrie sauntered into the entryway and stopped. The woman turned to face her, a big smile lighting up her pretty green eyes. She offered her hand.
"Hi, I'm Emma and you are…?"
"Carrie." She took Emma's hand and gave it a polite shake.
"This is my fiancée, Emma," Grey said over his shoulder from the coat closet where he hung up Emma's coat.
Emma stepped back as if someone had slapped her across the face. Color drained from her peaches-and-cream complexion except for two small spots of red high on her cheeks. Her eyes widened.
"I thought you were Colin's girlfriend."
"I thought I told you Grey got engaged," Fran put in as she walked through the foyer to the living room. "I guess not."
There was silence in the entryway as Grey came up behind Carrie and put his hand on her shoulder. Emma forced a small smile on her face.
"Congratulations, you're a lucky woman."
"I am, thank you."
"Where's Matt?" Grey asked.
"Matt volunteered to stay home 'cause Bobby's sick."
"Too bad. I want him to meet Carrie."
"I hope your son is feeling better soon," Carrie said, inching closer to Grey.
"Lemon bars await! It's cold by the door," Fran announced, waving her hands, urging them into the living room.
Emma headed directly to the fire to warm her hands, turning her back to everyone. Carrie kept her gaze on the newcomer. Grey sank into the comfortable sofa and motioned Carrie to join him. She sat up close to him and he draped his arm around her shoulders. He moved his hand to the back of her neck where his fingers rubbed her skin in a light massage then rested against her.
"What's new, Emma? Where's Matt?" Jenna asked from her perch on the ottoman, close to the coffee table. She lifted a lemon bar off the stack and took a bite.
"Bobby's got a cold. Stuff goes around school. Grey, when did this big event happen?"
Emma turned from the fire to face the sofa, her gaze on Grey as she moved toward the coffee table.
"Thanksgiving."
"Not long then, eh?" Emma moved a wing chair closer to the sofa, sat down and picked up her mug.
"Nope. Newly engaged and the happiest man on Earth."
Carrie felt him move his hand to her shoulder and squeeze slightly. Emma's cool gaze sent a chill sweeping through Carrie causing a tiny shiver to rush up her spine.
"Are you pregnant?" She asked Carrie.
Carrie's eyes widened at the audacious question. The rest of the family in the living room stopped what they were doing and watched Carrie.
"Why do you ask?"
"Seems pretty fast to me. Last time I saw Grey, he was a swinging bachelor and now he's engaged. Thought there might be some…uh…reason for the rush."
"No, she's not pregnant…you aren't, are you?" Grey asked, sitting up straight.
"Of course not. Not that it's anyone else's business," Carrie replied, her stare directed at Emma.
"Oh," Emma looked around, "my package?"
She got up and retrieved a square package from the table in the foyer. Walking over to Fran she handed the package to the older woman.
"Merry Christmas, Andrews family," Emma said.
"Let me guess, your famous blondies?" Fran said, a smile on her lips but an anxious look in her eyes.
"Yep. Again this year."
"But I love them so," Fran said, tearing the wrapping paper.
"I love to make them. Do you cook, Carrie?"
Emma wheeled around to face Carrie and arched an eyebrow.
"I do."
"She's a great cook!" Grey put in.
"But can she bake? Men love these blondies. Right, Grey?" Emma turned to face him.
"They are fantastic, Carrie. You should try one," he said.
"Does your husband like them, too?" Carrie asked, sitting up straighter.
"Matt? Oh, yes. He loves them, too. But it's always better to have two hunky men crave your…goodies…don't you think?" A nasty grin turned her words into a snarl rather than a statement.
"I wouldn't know. I'm very happy with Grey and have no desire for another man," Carrie said, turning to Grey, slipping her hand into his and smiling into his eyes.
He squeezed her hand and a grin swept over his face. Emma's smile turned to a frown. She stood up and went to the side table next to Fran, who was already munching on a blondie. She brought the box of blondies over to Grey, stealing his attention back from Carrie.
"Here, Grey…before they're all gone."
Grey picked one up and took a bite. "Thanks…umm…fantastic as ever," he said.
A smug grin swept over Emma's face. But before she could offer them to Carrie, Grey lifted the remainder of his to Carrie's lips.
"Try this, honey, you're gonna love it."
Carrie bit off a corner and chewed. "You're right, Grey. They are delicious. Well done," Carrie said, nodding at Emma.
"Don't bother asking for the recipe. Grey can tell you I never give it out to anyone."
Carrie looked at her watch. "I think it's time for me to pack. We're leaving early tomorrow morning. I hope you'll excuse me, Emma. Nice meeting you," Carrie said, standing up and extending her hand.
"I've got to gas up the car for the trip. Excuse me, Emma. Nice to see you," Grey said, standing up and moving with Carrie toward the front door. Instead of reaching out to hug or kiss Emma, he occupied one hand jingling his keys while the other remained firmly stuffed in his pocket.
Grey stopped to kiss Carrie palming her cheek, before grabbing his jacket from a hook on the wall and leaving the house. Carrie continued to walk swiftly through the foyer. When she reached the stairs, out of sight of Emma, she blew out the breath she had been holding as she climbed to the quiet safety of their room.
****
Grey drove down the street and turned left on Elm Road heading toward Route 17. Gus's gas station, a convenient stop for motorists on long trips, was on the left before the entrance to the highway. This location brought Gus Granger enough business to make a living. He sure as heck wasn't going to get the volume of customers he needed from Pine Grove. Gus couldn't afford to close his gas station, even on Christmas day.
While Gus gassed up Grey's car and after they had exchanged holiday greetings, Grey sat back and closed his eyes. Close call. Ten points for Carrie. But I may not have heard the end of Emma yet. Emma, you bitch.
With his mother sitting right there, Grey couldn't repeat to Emma the things he was thinking. Carrie seemed to take Emma's jealousy well, but he wasn't sure. He might hear about it later when they were alone. His head began to ache a little so he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He needed a massage from Carrie. The thought of her fingers on his temples instead of his own and at the back of his neck made him impatient with the refueling process. He opened his eyes and stared at the gas pump in the hopes his look would make the gas flow faster.
He cracked his window to let in the fresh, cool air. The sun was shining, warming everything. Melting snow and ice dripped off the roof of the small store that was part of the gas station and off Grey's Jag, too.
Finally he heard the ding of the pump and knew he'd soon be on the way back to Carrie. He hoped Emma'd be gone when he returned. He'd had enough of her shenanigans. And mom has, too, from the look on her face. Grey chuckled to himself at the expression on his mother's face when Emma asked Carrie if she was pregnant. His chuckle became a laugh when he recalled Mom's wide eyes and her hand smothering the gasp from her throat. He shook his head. Mom would have a heart attack if Carrie was pregnant and Dad…whoa.
Gus gave Grey the receipt and a small salute. The men had attended high school together and were once teammates on the football team. His salute was reminiscent of the team salute before every game that brought them good luck. Grey saluted back before he put his car in gear and pulled out.
He was disappointed to see Emma's car still parked in
front of his parent's place. When he entered the old Victorian and took his coat off, Emma was moving toward him wearing a big smile. He looked around the living room but didn't see Carrie.
"Where's Carrie?" He asked. Her packing should have been finished by now.
Her sweet expression soured and a cool look came into her eyes. "She took Jenna's skates and headed toward the lake saying she'd never skated on a frozen lake before."
Immediately Grey felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry. Carrie…God, no! He grabbed his coat, shot a glance at Emma before racing toward the back door.
"Why didn't you stop her?" He yelled as he took off at a run.
Before she could say a word, Grey was running down the path to the lake, silently thanking his mother for making him shovel it. The air had gotten colder as the afternoon wore on and shadows were already forming on evergreen trees. His breathing grew ragged as his pulse beat loudly in his ears. He could feel panic begin to rise in his chest and he forced it down. Can't panic. Must find Carrie. He ducked and pushed the snow-heavy pine tree limbs out of his way as he moved down the path.
Bringing his head up, he scanned the area, hoping to catch her still lacing up the skates. But there were only children throwing snowballs near the edges. Everyone knew on a day that started out warm, like this one did, the lake was dangerous. Everyone but Carrie! Why didn't she listen to me?
His feet slid on the wet snow. He grabbed a branch to steady himself. But his next burst of speed brought him down, bottom first into the snow. His jeans got wet but he ignored the cold water seeping into his pants as he continued down the path.
When he got to the edge of the lake his panic turned to fear as he stared at the ice. First he looked around, trying to spy Carrie but didn't see her. It wasn't long before he realized he'd have to venture out, maybe only a foot or two to see if she was in the middle or…horrors…had fallen through. Sweat broke out on his brow and his tongue felt six inches thick. Unable to steady his breathing, he put one shaky foot after another on the ice. He tested each new step before putting all of his weight on it. Slowly, slowly he inched out on the ice.