“Sun’s up. Pancakes and bacon in five. Don’t be late.” Clare called through the closed door.
Gunther’s lips parted in a wide smile. “Ma makes the best pancakes in the world.” He threw the comforter down and pushed to his feet. Hopping around on the cold floor, he opened his closet. Pulling out a pair of jeans and his bathrobe, he threw the robe to her. Watching him slip the jeans on with nothing underneath made Erica’s mouth go dry. She wanted to touch him.
“Come on. She’s a fanatic about being on time.”
“I can’t go down like this!” Erica scurried out of bed, thrust her arms into the sleeves of the robe, and padded quickly back to her room. She jumped into a running suit, brushed her teeth and hair, and made her way downstairs.
The aroma coming from the kitchen was tantalizing. The scent of bacon frying mixed with melting butter.
“German Apple Pancakes are my specialty,” Clare said.
She knows I was in Gunther’s room and hasn’t said a word. Erica tried to be nonchalant about their night together, but found she was embarrassed in front of his mother anyway.
Gunther poured two mugs of coffee and refilled his mother’s. He handed one to Erica. He’s just being polite in front of his mom. If she wasn’t here, he’d probably send me packing and without even a cuppa Joe!
“Lots to do today,” Clare said, setting down two plates filled with pancakes and bacon in front of the lovers.
“Like what, Ma?” Gunther took a sip.
“First, we have a ton of presents to wrap. I’ll set up the dining room. Like to play Christmas music while I do it, too. And I haven’t decorated the tree yet.”
The phone interrupted her.
“Morning, Hank. What? No, sorry. Not today. My son and his…friend are here. I’ll miss you, too. Maybe in a couple of days. What? Of course, I hope you’re coming. Good. You can meet him then. Bye. Yeah, love you, too.”
At the sound of the word “love” from his mother’s lips, Gunther’s head snapped up. “Who was that, Ma?” He asked.
“Just a…friend.”
“Love you, too? Sounds like more than a friend to me.”
“He’s my friend, like Erica is yours,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Gunther choked on his coffee. Erica burst out laughing.
“Who the hell is this guy? I’ll bust his balls.”
“Gunther, take it easy. I’m single and over twenty-one. I can do what I like and sleep with whoever I want, just like you.”
“You’re sleeping with this guy?” Gunther rose up.
“I wasn’t going to mention it, but you pushed the issue.”
“I didn’t push anything. I’m gonna push this guy off a cliff if he lays a hand, even a finger, on you!”
“Easy, son.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I love that younger people always think they invented sex. How do you think you got here, anyway?”
“I choose not to think about that.” Gunther kept his gaze on his plate. Erica stifled a giggle.
“Hank is my boyfriend. We meet for breakfast at the diner three mornings a week. He’s coming to the buffet on Christmas Eve. You can meet him then.”
“Meet him or kill him,” Gunther muttered, dropping back into his chair and focusing on his pancakes again. Erica ate in silence, watching everything.
“You will be polite, Gunther Alexander Quill!” Clare shot him a sharp look.
“Okay, okay.”
“He’s dying to meet my famous son.” Clare sat down and dug into the food.
“Yeah? Maybe he’s okay after all.” Both women chuckled.
“There are carolers tonight. I have small gifts for them. Need to do some baking and cooking today, too. Only a day left till Christmas Eve.”
“I can help, Mrs. Quill,” Erica offered.
“Please, call me Clare. Do you cook, Erica?” The young woman nodded, as her mouth was filled with bacon.
“She’s not going to be here then, Ma. She’s leaving tomorrow. Remember?”
“Gunther! You’re kicking her out on Christmas Eve?” Clare raised her eyebrows.
Silence filled the room. Erica swallowed, hoping the food would push the lump in her throat down. If he can do that, then it’s truly over. I will give up if I’m sent away on Christmas Eve. She blinked a few times to keep tears at bay and kept her head lowered, her gaze on her plate. Cooking for Christmas would be wonderful.
“This is my house. I say who stays and who goes. And I say she stays. Stay as long as you like, Erica,” Clare said.
Gunther glared at his mother.
“Thank you, but no, Mrs.…Clare. If Gunther wants me to leave, then I’ll obey his wishes.” Erica managed to force the rest of her meal down and put her dish in the sink. She washed it.
“No need for that, hon. I’ll put it in the dishwasher.”
“Please excuse me, I’ve got to book a flight for tomorrow.” A hollowness inside nagged at her. She missed her mom and the family they had once been. Being here was a sore reminder. Maybe staying would be harder. It’s better to leave. I’ll fall in love with Clare, too. It just makes it more difficult to go. Pain ripped through her heart as memories of holidays with her mother flashed through her mind. She yearned to recreate those.
When she had heard about Gunther’s mother, she had hoped she’d get a chance to meet her and maybe even get folded into this little family. But now that wasn’t going to happen. She sighed, accepting the inevitable.
The silence was deafening. Clare scowled at her son, who didn’t make eye contact with either woman. In her room, Erica wanted to throw herself down on the bed and sob. She was out of ideas, ready to give up. But she knew the look on his face meant business. She needed to find a flight out of Portland on Christmas Eve.
Quiet tears streamed down her cheeks as she opened her phone and checked her notebook for the correct number. The sound of someone clearing their throat drew her attention. She looked up to see Gunther filling the doorway. He leaned against the jamb, his face a confusion of emotions. Erica wiped her cheeks with her hands.
“Sorry.”
“You can stay. Through Christmas. But no longer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ma is sure I’m going to be damned to hell for sending you away on Christmas Eve.”
“You’re not sending me away. I’m choosing not to stay where I’m not wanted. It’s my choice. Your mother already said I could stay. So, you don’t have to make this…this…grand gesture. It’s okay.” I’m lying. It isn’t okay. It’s not okay at all.
“I already said you could stay. If you leave now, Ma’ll have a fit.”
She nodded. Words caught in her throat. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Last night, he had wanted her with a passion unequaled by any of their previous encounters. Was he just horny? She had thought he had forgiven her, but she was wrong. Damn, I’m tired of being wrong. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
He nodded. She picked up her cell and dialed.
“New England Airlines? Yeah. I’m looking for a flight out of Portland, Maine the day after Christmas. Yeah. I’ll hold.”
Chapter Eleven
Gunther opened the refrigerator, then the cabinets. He was hungry, but not for food. Can I substitute food for sex? A holiday tin sat on the counter. He removed the lid and grabbed two Christmas cookies.
“Are you poaching?” Clare’s voice had a teasing quality.
Gunther smiled at her. “Caught with my hand in the cookie jar.” He chuckled.
“Where’s Erica?” she asked, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to her son.
“Making plane reservations for after Christmas.” He sat down at the kitchen table.
“What’s going on, son?” Clare looked hard at him.
“I don’t know, Ma.” Gunther gazed at his hands, then at the remaining cookie.
“Do you love that girl?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re no kid. You’re old enou
gh to know how you feel.” Clare brought the tin to the table and took off the top. Gunther helped himself to two more.
“You still make the best cookies,” he said, munching on a crescent-shaped confection.
“Stop stalling. You’re breaking her heart…and I’d guess, your own, too.”
He looked up at her. Hit the nail on the head, as usual. “I can’t trust her. She’s lied too many times. How do I know she really loves me?”
“I can tell she really loves you. Hell, no one is that good an actress!” She laughed.
“How can you be so sure?” He studied her face. There was no one he trusted like his mother.
“There’s nothing in it for her to come here and eat crow like she’s done. Damn humiliating, if you ask me. And warming your bed last night, on top of everything. Why would she do that? You’ve done what you can for her professionally.”
“She’s alone. It’s a place to come for the holidays.”
“Oh, crap, Gunther. Just crap. No one flies across the country to mooch a Christmas dinner. She came to see you. Be with you. Beg your forgiveness. You’re not an easy man to cross.”
“Damn straight.”
“Is that why you’ve never married? That poor girl, Dorrie. What a shame! And what you did to her. Geez.” Clare shook her head.
“That’s water under the bridge, Ma. Dorrie’s happily married now.”
“Thank God for that! Are you going to spend the rest of your life alone?”
“Maybe.” He pushed the last lemon bar around on his plate.
“Don’t. You’ll regret it. Especially when it’s too late.”
“You’re proof it’s never too late to find someone.”
“Thanks a lot.” She laughed. “Don’t wait, son.” She put her hand on his arm. “Erica’s a lovely and talented girl. She wants you. Learn to forgive.”
He looked down at his hands.
“Your father would have been a much happier man if he had learned some humility and how to forgive. Don’t be like him.”
“I’m nothing like him!” Gunther jumped up. “Don’t ever compare me to him. He and I were complete opposites.” He paced the kitchen.
“This coldness, this unforgiving attitude, is something like he would’ve done. I didn’t expect it of you.”
Gunther stopped dead.
Erica entered the room. “I’m all set. I got the last flight out day after Christmas.”
Clare poured another cup of coffee, and Erica joined her at the table.
Silence hung heavy in the room. Gunther peeked at his mother. Her dark eyes pleaded with him. She was a part of him. The best part, he always thought. She lived in his heart. He adored her, followed her advice when he was brave enough to tell her what he was doing. He never doubted her love. Or her logic.
Combing his fingers through his hair, he let out a breath. “Cancel it.”
“What?” Erica looked up at him.
“I said, cancel it. You can stay as long as you want. I’m going to be here ten more days. We can fly out together.”
“Are you sure?” He noticed a real smile light up her face for the first time since she arrived.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” She got up slowly and snaked her arms around his waist, pulling him to her for a hug.
Even with her face buried in his flannel shirt, her voice muffled, he still heard the quiver of emotion. “Thank you,” she said.
He wrapped an arm around her, tightening the embrace. Glancing up at Clare, he saw a saucy little smile and a light in her eyes as she raised her cup to her lips. Relief surged through him as the wall he had built around his heart crumbled a bit. He smiled at his mother, and she nodded in return.
“That’s enough of that. We’ve got packages to wrap. Everyone in the dining room.” Clare carried her mug in with her while Gunther retrieved the shopping bags.
“This is my favorite part,” Erica said, sorting out the beautiful paper, ribbons, and tape. Gunther set up the music in the background, and they began to wrap.
“Tell me about the Christmas traditions in your house, Erica.”
The young woman swallowed hard, her eyes watering. “It was a long time ago.”
Clare squeezed her hand. “Take your time. I’ll bet you remember everything your mom did at Christmas time.”
Gunther watched his mom draw Erica out. It didn’t take long for her to be recounting some of the funny things that had happened in her house when she was growing up. She proved to be an entertaining storyteller. Gunther wondered if she used some of her considerable acting talent in relaying the stories, and if she didn’t embellish a little. But she kept them entertained.
The time flew as the gaily wrapped gifts piled up higher and higher on one end of the table. He even found himself laughing at her tale, especially at the part where the dogs found their presents on Christmas Eve and decided it was time to unwrap them.
“I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“Two. Pugs. Ferdinand and Isabella.” Erica nodded while Gunther chuckled.
“I wish I had a dog. He’d get me out for some exercise and would be a nice companion.”
“Why didn’t you say so, Ma?” Gunther asked.
“I think Hank is gonna give me a dog.”
A small pang shot through Gunther. This would be the first thing his mother wanted that he couldn’t or didn’t buy for her. He enjoyed giving her presents. It was the least he could do to repay her for her love and devotion.
When they were done, the casserole Clare had prepared early in the morning was finished cooking and they sat down to eat. By dessert, the carolers had arrived. Clare lent Erica a warm coat, and they opened the door and sang along. Gunther draped his arm around her. His spirits lifted as he joined in the festivities of the season. Erica and Clare passed around plates of brownies to the singers, who sang their thanks and moved on.
“We watched holiday movies. It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, Holiday Inn.”
“That’s a wonderful idea!” Clare clapped her hands together. “Gunther, where did we stuff those old movies away last year?” He traipsed up to the attic, searching through box after box of family memories.
“Damn cold up here. Hope they aren’t damaged.” he called down.
While Clare and Erica made hot tea and a bowl of popcorn, Clare spoke up. “I hope I’m not interfering, Erica. You say you love my son. Is that true?”
The young woman put down the brownie she was arranging on a plate and faced Clare. “It’s absolutely true. I would never lie about love.”
“Gunther’s had his heart broken. I’m asking you, please, don’t break it again. If you’re declaring your love, mean it.”
“I do. I love him with all my heart. We belong together.” Her voice cracked.
Clare stepped closer to Erica to give her a hug. “I thought so. Just making sure.”
Erica embraced the older woman. They finished putting the popcorn in a bowl and the brownies on a plate by the time Gunther returned. They settled onto the sofa and afghans were passed around. Gunther wanted Erica up against him, but was afraid she’d take it the wrong way. As the movie progressed, she inched her way until she was cuddled into his shoulder.
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. It’s a good fit. Damn. A good fit.
Clare called it quits early, leaving the lovers alone.
When the movie was over, they cleaned up the kitchen then climbed the stairs.
“Where do you want me to sleep tonight? she asked.
“With me,” he said, without hesitation.
She smiled, wheeling her suitcase into his room.
They made love twice and fell into an exhausted slumber by two o’clock.
* * * *
The sharp rap on their door came a tad later on Christmas Eve. Erica cuddled up to him for a few more seconds before he turned down the covers and swung his legs over the side. They padded down the stairs together. Clare, apron on, was already busy cooking. Erica made
a quick breakfast of oatmeal for them, then donned another apron and pitched in.
Gunther split some firewood and stacked it in a dry spot. The exercise provided a good outlet for the anger that still remained in his heart. By lunchtime, the ladies were ready for a break. Erica bundled up in a down coat and went for a walk with Gunther.
“You didn’t grow up here?”
“We lived in L.A., but Mom’s from here. She always wanted to come back.”
“She has a nice life here, friends, boyfriend.”
“Watch it! I’m not sure about Hank.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to be. Your mom has her own mind.”
He chuckled. “She does.”
Erica slipped her hand in his, and they continued to stroll on down the road until they reached a small path down to the water. It was steep. Gunther held Erica close as they eased their way down slowly. The Atlantic Ocean looked cold and beautiful, clean and dark aqua.
She took a deep breath of the fresh sea air. It woke her up. A completely different Gunther was on display in Maine. He was quieter, more thoughtful. Her love for him deepened. He looked the fashionably rugged woodsman in his L.L. Bean clothes and boots. His dark eyes never stopped examining hers, trying to penetrate into her soul.
In the shower that morning, she’d resolved to simply enjoy herself over the holiday. To leave love and commitment and heavy discussions behind. One day at a time. Although her nerves were in a constant state of high alert, deep breathing and the peaceful presence of Clare helped to keep her calm. Being outside in the chill of winter, slowing the pace, also helped her to relax and allowed her to simply enjoy life.
Time seemed to evaporate and before Erica had even warmed up from their trek, she had to get ready for the party. She and Gunther set up food while Clare put on her best outfit.
A tempting, spiral-cut ham shared a place of honor with a roasted turkey on the long table. Casseroles of spoonbread, green beans almondine, and mac and cheese were lined up, along with a green salad. Platters of chocolate pixies, almond crescents, lemon bars, and molasses cookies graced a sideboard. A punch bowl filled to the brim with warm, spiced wine stood on a cart with other alcoholic beverages and mixers.
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