by Nancy Fraser
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” He went to the door, flipped the lock, and cracked it open. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Tim Henry, Carl’s son.”
Cooper flung open the door. “Come in. Is something wrong?”
Tim came in trailing snow. “We came home from skating a few minutes ago.” He puffed heavily. “That’s when my father noticed Grandpa Henry was missing.”
Roz hurried down the rest of the steps. “Missing?” Her voice raised high in terror.
“We think we left the den door unlocked, and he got outside. Grandma said he didn’t put on his boots, but his slippers are gone.”
Roz pressed her palms to her lips. “Dear God!”
“I’ll come over and help you search for him.” Cooper knew Grandma had sent her young grandson over to get him, because she needed his help. “Go tell the family I’ll be right there.”
“I’m coming too,” Roz said, turning and sprinting back up the stairs.
GRANDMA TRESS STOOD immobile at a living room window and gazed out into the snowy night. Roz and Cooper came in the front door.
“He’s out there somewhere.” Her anxiety was evident in her plaintive voice.
Roz rushed to her side. “Oh, Grandma.”
The Christmas tree was lit and so was the room; the bright lights casting a welcome beacon into the darkness as if to draw Grandpa home.
Lisa came around the corner from the dining room with a mug of hot coffee. “Here you go, Tress, take this and sit down. You can’t do any good standing at the window.”
Lisa offered her the mug, but Grandma shook her head no. Taking her by the arm, Roz ushered Grandma over to the flowered chair where Grandpa had sat two days before. She hated seeing her grandmother so frightened. Her own stomach churned with panic for the welfare of her beloved grandfather.
“How long has he been gone, Mrs. Henry?” Cooper asked.
“Maybe an hour,” Lisa responded for her mother-in-law. “Carl and two of my boys are out looking. We’ve called the Dickens police.”
Tears in her eyes, Grandma lifted her head. “He’s wandered off before but never in the snow.”
“Don’t worry.” Cooper patted her hand. “I’ll go look for him.”
“We’ll find him, Grandma,” Roz said. Cooper was already out the door. Her heart pounding, Roz chased after him. “Wait for me!” She slammed the front door shut behind her.
Shiny flecks of snow tumbled like glitter from the night sky. Roz’s boots crunched as she speed walked, and her breath frosted in front of her. She caught up to Cooper. Snowflakes clung to his beard.
“Where should we look?”
He held a LED flashlight turned on high that threw a beam as long as several football fields. “Snow has covered Grandpa’s footprints. That’s no help. Let’s look in both garages first, then we’ll go toward the high school. I found him there last summer.”
The Henry’s and Cooper’s garages were vacant. No Grandpa.
“Let’s take the short cut.”
About a block down the street Cooper veered between houses along a barely visible snow-covered path. Taking a deep breath of chilly air, Roz followed him. She braced herself against a blast of wind and silently prayed they’d find Grandpa soon. Without warm outer wear and clad only in bedroom slippers, hypothermia would set in quickly.
For fifteen minutes, they trekked the snowy path, eventually crossing a barren, wind-swept field behind the Dickens High School football stadium. It was dark as pitch. The tall floodlights that usually illuminated the field on game night were not switched on. Cooper cast a shaft of light toward a chain-link fence. The gate was secured with a chain and a padlock.
Cooper checked the gate. It stood open as far as the chain reached. Snow beneath it had been trampled. “I think he may have squeezed through this gap,” Cooper said. He tried to cram himself between the pole and the gate, but he was too large. “Damnit.”
Roz shoved his arm. “Get out of the way. I can get through there.” He stepped back, and Roz slipped through the chain link fence to the other side. “Let me have the flashlight.”
Going onto the track that circled the football field, Roz shot the light up into the grandstands. Sitting on the first row of bleacher seats at the fifty-yard line was Grandpa Henry.
“He’s here!” A ragged cry tore from her throat. “Call 911!”
Roz ran down the track, slipping on the icy surface, the light bobbing as she hurried.
“Grandpa! What are you doing here?” She leaned over him, her stomach knotting. He was shivering in his flannel pajamas, and his slippers were soaking wet. “Grandma is worried about you. You’ve got to come home.”
She grabbed his arm, urging him to stand and follow her. He grunted and jerked his arm away. She tried again and received the same angry response.
Ken is not always docile. When he doesn’t understand things or doesn’t want to do what I ask him to do, he has bouts of anger.
Grandma’s words flitted through Roz’s head. How would she get him to move? How long before hypothermia set in? She rushed down the track to the gate where Cooper stood waiting.
She sucked up a mouthful of cold air. “He won’t come with me.”
“Tell him the game is over. Dickens won fourteen to seven.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
She floundered back through the snow. Gasping for breath, she bent over the old man and took his freezing hands. “Grandpa, it’s time to go. The game is over. Dickens won fourteen to seven.”
He looked up at her with a sudden happy gleam in his eyes, then he stood and let her lead him back to the gap between the gate and the fence. Police sirens shattered the silence, and relief flooded through Roz. The first responders—a police car, fire truck, and an ambulance—arrived like the old-time cavalry to the rescue.
While Cooper talked with the policeman, two paramedics helped Grandpa slip through the gap. They held him by his arms and walked him to their ambulance, assisting him to climb inside. Roz quickly followed.
“He has dementia,” she told them.
“We know Mr. Henry, don’t we?”
Just how many times had Grandpa wandered out of the house? And how many times had the police been called to find him? The questions were frightening.
Cooper came up beside her. “He’s your grandfather. You go with him.”
She turned to catch the tender look in his eyes. “What about you?”
“I’ll catch a ride with the police, then I’ll bring Grandma to the hospital.”
He was such a special, caring man. Roz smiled and touched his face with her gloved hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No, thank you. You were terrific tonight.”
Even in the cold, with snow falling around them, Roz felt her cheeks warm. She turned, and Cooper handed her into the back of the ambulance.
Before the paramedic shut the door, she called back to him. “How did you know what would get Grandpa to come with me?”
Cooper grinned. “Simple. Ken Henry was once the star quarterback of the Dickens football team. His best game ended fourteen to seven on a last-minute touchdown pass.”
Chapter 6
GRANDPA WAS SAFELY tucked into a bed at the hospital. The doctor had given him a sedative to make him sleep, but he was okay. No lasting damage done once he’d warmed up. Grandma Tress wouldn’t leave his side, so Carl agreed to stay with her.
“She’s going to have to leave him alone when he goes into the memory care facility,” Carl whispered to Roz and Cooper in the hallway. “She can’t continue caring for him at home, not when he can slip out so easily.”
Roz agreed and told him so. She felt emotionally drained, wishing she could do more for her grandmother.
“Call us if you need us,” Cooper said. “Otherwise, we’re heading home. This girl’s exhausted.”
Catching her elbow, Cooper ushered her down the hospital hall. She hardly remem
bered climbing into his panel truck and driving back to his house. Inside, she drew off her coat, pulled off her boots, and collapsed on his sofa. Cooper went around igniting the gas logs, lighting up the house, and turning on soft music.
“Would you like something to drink?” Cooper’s voice wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. “Something warm?” He eased his fingers through his hair, his eyes soft and gentle. “Coffee maybe?”
“Sounds good.”
“It won’t keep you awake?”
“Right now, I think I could sleep through a hurricane.”
He chuckled. “All we’ve got is a snowstorm.”
He left her to go make the coffee. She closed her eyes briefly aware of the sudden staccato of her heart. After their rescue adventure, Roz felt a new connection to Cooper. They’d worked well together and accomplished their goal. Grandpa was alive tonight because of their cooperation and Cooper’s fast thinking.
“Black or cream and sugar?”
Roz draped her arm over the back of the sofa and twisted to look over her shoulder. “Just cream, please.”
She turned back and squeezed her eyes shut a moment. Even from the distance she’d recognized the sharp hunger in his eyes. Her sudden vulnerability scared her to pieces. If he wanted her, she’d likely consent.
Cooper brought out a tray with two mugs and a carton of half and half on it. He placed it on the coffee table. “I’m not as formal as Brittany. She’d expect me to use a cream pitcher. A carton is good enough for me.”
Brittany again. Roz sat forward and poured her cream into one of the mugs. He joined her on the sofa.
“Suits me fine,” she said. “I’m not one to stand on ceremony.”
“Is that right?” He added cream to his mug. “I would have thought you’d be a stickler for good manners and protocol.”
“Why would you think that?”
Cooper sat back and sipped his coffee. He studied her over the rim. Roz sat back too against the couch cushions, cupping her mug, and inhaling the coffee aroma. She took a careful sip.
“I don’t know,” he finally said in a soft whisper. “You always seemed fancier than me with your trips to Paris and London as a teenager. You’d traveled the world with your parents while I was confined to this little town.”
“Don’t kid yourself.” She gave a sad shake of her head. Was this the problem between them so many years ago? Did he feel insecure about her because of her parents’ wealth? “I spent many summers here in Dickens. My parents were often glad to get rid of me.”
“That’s a hard thing to say.”
Her breath caught. “It’s true. I considered my grandparents’ house my home, although I never went to school here.”
Roz surveyed his shaggy hair, blue eyes, and gentle smile. He reached over an put his mug on the tray, then scooted nearer and draped his arm on the back of the sofa. She looked away.
She lifted her mug to her lips and took a long drink of the hot liquid. His presence made her feel weak. With the romantic fireplace and soft music, she felt susceptible to him. Her body ached for him to hold her. Yet, she knew he never would when he thought she was better than him. Brittany had been a hairdresser, not a world-traveler and college graduate. She’d won him back then when it hadn’t mattered to Roz, but tonight having him think well of her mattered very much.
“You seem to have the wrong opinion of me, Cooper.” She placed her mug on the tray and angled so she could see him face-to-face.
“How’s that?”
She broke eye contact and glanced down at her lap. Could she tell him the truth? “For one thing, I’m currently unemployed. I was fired a week ago, the only one in my department let go during a reduction in force. I have no current job prospects.”
“I’m sorry.” He touched the back of her head, stroking her hair.
Her neck tingled, and the shivers cascaded down her shoulders to her arms. Did he understand she was a failure? “It’s a big deal to me.” Her comment sounded lame.
“I know it is.”
“And I’m unlucky in love. I can’t tell you how many boyfriends I’ve had and how many of them have broken up our relationships.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“In fact, my last boyfriend broke up with me in an instant message.” Her voice rose. She was desperate for Cooper to understand she was nothing special. “Instant message seems to be the breakup tool of choice these days. Thank goodness it wasn’t a social media post! That would have been absolutely embarrassing.”
“I honestly don’t care, Roz.”
“But...”
He dipped his head and kissed her, silencing her rant with a painstaking examination of her lips and neck.
COOPER OPENED HIS EYES. He was upstairs in his old bed. Roz, sound asleep, snuggled next to him. His gut tightened as he inhaled her scent. He turned over and gently kissed her ear. What had he been thinking? Having Roz in bed with him was better than any dog, but he shouldn’t tell her that thought. She might not care for being compared to a dog.
Chuckling to himself, Cooper returned to his back. No ceiling fan up here, but maybe he should install one. Heat rises. And it certainly rose last night. One kiss had led to another. He’d had the sense to take Roz upstairs. Making love to her in the bed where he’d made love to Brittany didn’t set right. She might not have cared, but he did. In some ways, he felt it would have been disrespectful to Brittany’s memory.
Brittany had told him to remarry. Go on with his life. But he’d never wanted to until Roz walked back into it a few days ago. She’d opened up to him last night, and he loved her for it. His impression of Roz—gathered years ago when he was so young, and she was an exotic summer fling—had been wrong. She didn’t have it all together, did she? Neither did he. They were perfectly flawed human beings who remained attracted to each other even now.
Roz stirred and cracked open an eye. Then her eyes drifted shut again.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she murmured, still sleepy.
“How did you sleep?”
She reached out and touched his bare arm. “Perfect. And you?”
“More than perfect.”
She smiled, her mane of dark hair obscuring part of her face. He brushed away the strands. “Last night was good.”
“I thought so too.” A wry smile pulled at his lips. Good. Heck, it had been more than good.
Opening her eyes again, she stroked his cheek. “I could get used to this beard.”
“I hope so.”
“What time is it?”
He turned over and picked up his cell phone from the end table. He turned it on. “Ten-thirty.”
“Oh, no!” She winced. “I should be next door helping with Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Stay longer.” He didn’t want her to leave.
“I can’t! How could I have slept so late?”
Cooper could think of several reasons, but he only gave her one. “You were tired from our late night at the hospital.”
Sitting up in bed, she held the sheet over her breasts. He’d already gotten a good glimpse of them, but he appreciated her modesty.
“I’ve got to get ready. They’re expecting me to help.”
“Go,” he said, sitting up, swinging his legs over the side, and putting on his boxers. “I’ll go make coffee.”
As he went downstairs, he heard Roz scramble out of bed. Unable to stop a grin, he detoured into his bedroom and grabbed a terrycloth bathrobe. He could get used to this. It wouldn’t take him long at all.
Chapter 7
DICKENS CERTAINLY HAD itself a white Christmas. Roz picked her way through the drifting snow the short distance to her grandparents’ house. She let herself in the back door, wiped her boots, and piled her coat on the washing machine with her cousin’s coats.
“I’m sorry to be so late,” she said entering the dining room from the kitchen. Her cheeks felt hot. There was no way her family could know about last night, but her face sti
ll reacted as if they all recognized the difference in her life.
It was almost eleven o’clock. Her five boy cousins, Carl, and Grandpa sat at the dining room table chowing down on pancakes. Lisa had just carried another plate in stacked high with pancakes.
“No worries.” Lisa sat down at the last spot at the table. “We all slept late. Tress is still in bed. She’s worn out. They got home this morning at seven.”
Roz bent down and kissed Grandpa’s cheek. He didn’t respond.
“Get yourself a plate in the kitchen, if you want to eat,” Lisa told her.
“I’m good, but I will take some coffee.”
Roz poured a cup, added cream, and carried it to the kitchen door. She leaned against the doorjamb and watched her noisy family, unable to keep her thoughts from flitting back to last night.
She’d told Cooper their lovemaking had been good, but it was more than that; it had been delightful, inspiring, mind-boggling. Had being in love made it better? To herself, she’d admitted her love for Cooper, but she guessed, for him, she was simply a one-night stand. How could she expect him to love her when he’d loved, and obviously still loved, his wife?
“Because of last night, I think we need to postpone our Christmas dinner and gift opening until tomorrow,” Lisa said, glancing up at Roz. “It will give us more time to get ready.”
“Sounds like a good idea. I still haven’t wrapped my gifts.”
“I’ll take the boys caroling tonight at the common,” Carl said, only to receive a chorus of groans and complaints. “It’s a family tradition.”
“Sounds like fun.” Maybe Cooper would come along.
“Six o’clock. Be there or be square,” Carl said making a joke. His sons moaned.
ROZ WAS TIRED. SHE wanted to go back to Cooper’s house and crawl into bed with him, hoping for more holiday magic. But it was Christmas Eve. She joined Carl and her five cousins for the caroling adventure. Snow was falling hard, hampering the walk to the common but adding to the Christmas spirit. Cooper joined them when they reached his house. He dropped in the back of the parade where she followed the others.