by Nancy Fraser
He grabbed her hand and tugged her close to him. “The weatherman says we’re in for a real doozy of a snowstorm.”
“We’re all set for Christmas, so the storm doesn’t matter. Christmas dinner at noon. Opening gifts after that. We have enough food to feed an army.”
“I’m sure Carl’s kids eat like an army,” he said as a snowball whizzed by his head, causing him to duck.
This attack precipitated a running battle between Cooper and the kids all the way to the common. A block before the business area, Carl called a halt and calmed his crew. Cooper, laughing, returned to Roz’s side.
“That was fun!”
Roz shook her head. “Boys! I’ve never understood them.”
“No need to understand us.” Cooper put his arm around her shoulder. “Just love us. We mean no harm.”
He looked at her as if he needed her. It was an intoxicating experience, some of that magic she was hoping for.
Stopping in the whirling snow, Cooper pulled her toward him, cupped her face in his gloved hands, and seared her lips with a hot kiss. Needles of ice adhered to his beard. Her knees went weak with desire, and she clung to him.
Releasing her, he smiled. “They’re far enough ahead of us now, we can disappear into the crowd.”
“So, that was your plan all along, to ditch my family?”
“Ah, you’ve guessed my intent, pretty woman.”
She laughed and reached for his hand. He took it and steered her through the crush of singers. Familiar holiday tunes filled the air. Roz couldn’t believe so many people had come out on such a cold, blustery night. They found their way to the gazebo and Christmas tree, ablaze with colorful lights.
Snowflakes danced and twirled giving the lights an ethereal glow, part of that enchantment Roz longed for. The chill deepening, she wrapped both arms around his arm, and, standing next to him, hugged him close. Tipping her head, she sang “joy to the world” and joined in with the chorus of town voices that had always made a Dickens Christmas so special.
AN HOUR LATER, BACK in Cooper’s house, Roz drew her legs up on the sofa and pulled a warm, knitted afghan over them. She wore her flannel pajamas and fuzzy blue robe. The fire blazed, filling the room with a soft glow and welcoming warmth. She held her glass of Merlot and slowly sipped the smooth liquid. It warmed her better than the coffee had last night.
Cooper sat next to her on the sofa and dragged part of the afghan over his lap. He wore his terrycloth bathrobe. The intimacy of the moment did not escape her. She felt lightheaded, happy. Her pulse drummed in uneven rhythm.
He raised his glass of wine in a salute, and she touched hers to his.
“Here’s to a wonderful Christmas Eve,” he said, then took a sip.
She sipped hers too, studying him over the rim of the glass. He was so ruggedly handsome with his full beard and shining blue eyes.
“To a new beginning,” she murmured, her heart filling with hope.
He leaned over and kissed her. He tasted of wine.
And then her cell phone rang. Its ringtone was an old-fashioned phone ring and very loud. Roz could not ignore it.
She took the cell phone from her bathrobe pocket and glanced at the screen. She blinked. “My old company is calling. I’d better take it.”
Uncurling her legs, she rose and padded into the kitchen to give herself a bit of privacy. She sensed the call would end badly.
She scrolled to answer the call. “Hello.”
“Rosalind?”
“Yes.”
“This is Steve Jamison, VP of Marketing.”
“Yes, your name came up on my phone.”
“I’m sorry to call you on Christmas Eve.” He cleared his throat. “However, letting you go didn’t sit well with me.”
“Me either,” Roz mumbled.
“Have you found another job?”
As if it’s any of your business. “No, I thought I’d take a few weeks off during the holidays before looking for work.”
“Good, because I want to offer your old job back to you with a promotion to director of the Marketing Department.”
She drew a shaky breath. “Director? What about Frank?”
“Frank Smith is no longer with the company. I pulled some strings with Corporate. I told them you were the best darn person to replace him as director.”
Her mind scrambled. This is what she wanted, wasn’t it? Two weeks ago, she’d given anything to be elevated to director. But now? Roz gazed across the bar to the sofa and the back of Cooper’s head. He sat there, drinking his wine, staring at the fire, yet she knew he could hear what she said.
“I’m honored, Steve, that you think so well of me.”
“It’s business.”
“I understand that.”
“So, what do you say? Can I expect you back at work January second?”
She felt hard pressure in her chest. What should she say? One night with Cooper didn’t make a relationship—didn’t mean he loved her. But somehow that night had made her different. The old job didn’t hold the glittering attraction it once had, but she needed to work. She needed to feel needed, wanted. Nothing was certain with Cooper.
“Yes, sir, I’ll be there.”
“Good. Have a Merry Christmas, Rosalind.”
“Thank you, Steve. Same to you.”
A chill crawled across her arms. She’d done it. She’d thrown caution to the wind and taken the job. Roz walked across the living room, picked up her glass of Merlot, and sat down next to Cooper. He didn’t move. Didn’t comment. They were suddenly like two strangers.
She exhaled sharply. “I was offered my old job back with a promotion to director.”
He turned to look at her, a scowl on his face. “That’s what I thought.”
She met his gaze for a moment. “I accepted it.”
“I see.” His voice was terse.
A jab of irritation skimmed through her. He had no right to dismiss her with that tone of voice. “I hope you do see. I need a job, you know.”
“I know.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“It’s your life. I have nothing to say about what you do.”
“No?” Anger burned within. She wanted him to have a say. She wanted him to ask her...what? Roz climbed to her feet and twirled around to glare at him. “What was last night then?”
“Something two consenting adults do.”
Oh! He was so passive. She wanted him to fight for her. To say he loved her. Marriage? That was not even in her head, but she wanted some acknowledgment that she was more than a one-night stand.
“I’m exhausted,” she snapped. “I’m going to bed...alone.”
With that taunt, Roz turned on her heel and marched up the stairs.
COOPER HATED THE THOUGHT of Roz leaving. He’d watched her quivering stance, her anger, and he’d wanted to jump up and grab her, pull her into his arms, and say he loved her. Instead, he sat there like the proverbial bump on a log. What right did he have to interfere with her life?
Weary to the bone, he rose and turned off the gas logs. He picked up the empty glasses and carried them to the kitchen sink.
“This won’t bring you peace, Roz,” he said to the empty room as he clicked out the lights. With a heavy heart, he walked toward the master bedroom to once more sleep alone.
Chapter 8
CHRISTMAS MORNING. Roz got up, got dressed, and left Cooper’s house early. She didn’t see him. At her grandparents’ house, she threw herself into the preparations for lunch. Grandma Tress was her old self again, fully in command. She ordered Lisa and Roz around like a general.
That was fine. Being busy took Roz’s mind off last night, and the moment Cooper failed her by sitting there in silence.
At ten o’clock, her uncle’s family opened their personal gifts. Roz continued to help Grandma by setting the table. Going in and out of the dining room with plates and silverware, she caught the interaction of her aunt and uncle with their boys as they opene
d each gift—laughter, moans and groans, high-jinks. The living room was soon trashed with discarded wrapping paper.
But Roz could tell the boys loved each other and their parents. They were a strong unit, a family. She drew her gaze away, attempting not to stare, attempting to block the envy that quickened her heartbeat. A career in Chicago couldn’t give her that kind of contentment.
After the gift-giving, Lisa shooed her boys outside to make snowmen, and the final preparations for Christmas dinner became intense. The three Henry women worked together mashing potatoes and whipping up the turkey gravy.
At one point, Roz caught her grandmother staring wistfully into the den where Grandpa sat mindlessly in front of the television. She wiped a tear from her eye.
“Grandma, are you okay?”
“Not really.” Grandma turned and offered a sad smile. “This is his last Christmas with us.”
“You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“Yes.” Grandma lay a hand on Roz’s sleeve. “Your father explained to me how bad Ken will get. In the end, he may not be able to walk, and he’ll lose control of himself.” She shook her head. “I won’t know how to handle that.”
Roz hugged her grandmother. “Then let’s make this his best Christmas ever,” she whispered.
At that moment, Cooper tramped in the back door, cleaning the snow off his boots. “Ho-ho-ho,” he said, holding up a large black trash bag. “I’ve come bearing gifts.”
Grandma recovered quickly and pulled away from Roz. “Put those gifts under the tree, Cooper, dear.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stopped to snag a hot yeast roll cooling on the countertop. “I’m sorry I didn’t have any food to contribute.”
“You contributed enough when you fixed my disposal,” Grandma said. “Now get on with you.”
Roz watched the jovial banter. Cooper had glanced her way once but hadn’t spoken to her. He must still be angry from last night. Well, she was angry too. He’d thought enough of her to take her to bed, but not enough to forge some kind of lasting relationship.
Sure, she should have told him she didn’t want to leave Dickens. Leave him. But how was she to know his feelings? She’d be arrogant if she thought she could so quickly make him forget his wife and his evident grief.
Noon arrived, and Grandma drew the turkey out of the oven. It smelled heavenly and so did the rest of the home-cooked feast. The women spaced the dishes—sweet potatoes, oyster dressing, green beans, mashed potatoes, strawberry gelatin salad, broccoli and cauliflower casserole, corn pudding, and pumpkin and cherry pies—along the green Formica countertop and on the round kitchen table.
Then the family lined up around the kitchen. Carl said a blessing.
“Mom,” he said after the Amen, “get Dad a plate, and I’ll help you seat him.”
Everyone waited until Grandpa was seated, then the whole crew swarmed through the buffet line, the boys going for mostly meat, potatoes and rolls, but Roz sampled everything. She didn’t eat like this often.
Three of the youngest boys sat at the children’s table. The other eight were seated around the dining room table. Roz’s heart thudded in her chest when the only free chair was next to Cooper. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she as she silently ate Christmas dinner.
By two o’clock the dinner had been eaten, leftovers covered and put into the refrigerator, and dishes washed. Grandma and Carl shepherded Grandpa into the living room and sat him down in the flowered easy chair. Lisa and Roz sat on the sofa. Carl brought two chairs from the dining room, one for him and one for Grandma to sit beside her husband. The boys sprawled on the floor. Only Cooper stood, quietly leaning against the doorjamb to the living room—part of the party but separate as if he didn’t really belong.
Roz saw it in his eyes—heavy sorrow and regret. Was it for what he lost when Brittany died or was it for her? Against her will, her eyes refocused, meeting his. His obvious pain cut deep into her heart.
The ornament exchange went ahead with everyone holding up each gift for others to see. The Henry boys gave Roz a Chicago Bears logo ornament, as if she cared for football. Lisa and Carl gave her a North Pole village set of five houses. From Grandma she received a vintage Santa Claus figurine.
Finally, two wrapped gifts were left, both in the same size boxes. Little Tim brought them over to Grandma and handed them to her.
“For me? Both of them?” Grandma picked up one box and looked at the tag. “Thank you, Cooper.” She smiled at him and then tore into the shiny red paper.
Slowly, out of the tissue paper, Grandma lifted one half of a delicate silver and crystal valentine—as if the artist had designed it to symbolize a broken heart.
Roz exhaled and suddenly couldn’t fill her lungs. She gasped as the air rushed back in and felt her face heat. What were the chances they’d buy the same gift?
“It’s lovely, Cooper, dear.”
“I thought of you, Mrs. Henry, when I saw it because it’s so pretty,” he said from across the room.
Grandma giggled. “You know how to flatter an old woman.”
Cooper blushed. Everyone was vulnerable to Grandma’s charms.
“Now let me see what’s in this little box.” Grandma opened Roz’s package, tearing the silver paper. She held up the valentine decoration. “Why, it’s the same thing!”
“I bought it at Trim-A-Tree,” Roz told her. “Matilda said there were two of them. I think they match.”
Grandma held the two pieces of the valentine together, forming one complete heart. “Well, look at that.”
Then, the strangest thing happened. Grandpa Henry motioned to Cooper. “Sit down there, boy,” and pointed to the sofa.
Surprise whooshed through Roz. All the time she’d been in Dickens, she hadn’t heard Grandpa speak. He sounded like the old grandfather she knew.
The room fell silent. Roz glanced at Grandma. Her mouth was open, and tears welled in her eyes. Cooper followed Grandpa’s instructions and wedged in between Lisa and Roz on the couch.
Grandpa rose from his chair without help and took the valentines from Grandma’s lap. “You don’t need these,” he told her.
A faint smile broke through her noticeable pain. Then Grandma lifted her palm to her lips as Grandpa walked without help to where Roz sat beside Cooper.
“You need this, boy,” he told Cooper, handing him one half of the valentine. He gave the second half to Roz. “My only granddaughter needs this one.”
The atmosphere in the room pulsated with tension and awe. Roz took the proffered ornament. Her eyes blurred. “Thank you, Grandpa.”
The old man’s hands shook, and his legs grew wobbly, but he stood in front of them proud and free. “Remember,” he said looking down at them. “Love never dies.”
He turned to his wife and repeated the words, smiling at her with love, then he hobbled over to his chair and sat down. His eyes turned vacant once more.
The whole family seemed stunned. Even the rowdy boys were quiet. Silent tears flowed down Roz’s cheeks. This was the Christmas magic she’d wanted. Cooper reached over, took her hand, and squeezed it.
AN HOUR LATER, AFTER the shock of Grandpa’s Santa Claus performance had subsided, Cooper caught Roz’s elbow and guided her into the mud room near the kitchen.
“Grandpa gave us a direct order,” he said.
Her limbs felt weak at the blunt sound of his voice. “What do you mean?”
“He gave us two pieces of a broken heart. He expects us to put them together.”
“But...” Her breath stuck in her throat.
“Tell me you want your old job back, that being a director is more important than what we have between us. Tell me you want to leave Dickens.” She couldn’t answer him. She was tongue-tied. “Tell me you want to leave me,” he demanded.
This was her chance. This was part of the Christmas magic. Grandpa had seen through their defenses. He’d sensed their love. He’d somehow pulled himself together long enough to make a difference in their
lives. All she had to do was take the risk. Open up. Tell Cooper she loved him.
“I don’t want to leave you, Cooper.” She felt a strange fluttering in her stomach.
“And I don’t want you to leave,” he said firmly.
Could she be the first to say it? How did she know if he wanted more than that one-night stand?
He looked away and took a cleansing breath. Turning back, he made strong eye contact with her. “I’ve loved two women in my life, my wife and you, Roz. I suppose a person can love two women. I think Brittany thought so, because she told me to go on with my life.”
“Yes?” She waited, heart in her throat.
“I want to marry you, Roz. I love you.”
Joy suddenly spread through her. “I love you too, Cooper. I’ve had other boyfriends, but never realized I always compared them to you until now. You were always my measuring standard.” She opened her mouth to say more.
Cooper closed his fingers around her arms and stopped her chatter with a kiss, his lips hard and quick, possessing her and making her his. Roz relaxed into his embrace, convinced this was the happiest holiday of her life.
The End
A Note From Jan Scarbrough
MANY OF US HAVE BEEN “laid off,” “RIF’d” or fired from a job. It’s a traumatic event, and it happened to me a few times in my career. I chose to include a reference to dementia or Alzheimer’s because I’ve known several friends whose loved ones have contracted this terrible illness. Finally, I believe that love never dies. It may change over the years, but ultimately it doesn’t end even if a loved one dies. I wanted to leave my characters with this hope and create a happily-ever-after love story for Roz and Cooper, especially at Christmas. ~ Jan
About Jan Scarbrough
JAN SCARBROUGH WRITES heartwarming contemporary romances about home and family, single moms and children, and if the plot allows, about another passion—horses. Living in the horse country of Kentucky makes it easy for Jan to add small town, Southern charm to her books and the excitement of a Bluegrass horse race or a competitive horse show. Her newest contemporary western romance series is the Ghost Mountain Ranch. Jan leaves her contemporary voice behind with two paranormal gothic romances, Timeless and Tangled Memories. Her historical romance, My Lord Raven, is a medieval story of honor and betrayal. A member of Novelist, Inc., Jan self-publishes her books with her husband’s help.