Stronger

by Janet Nissenson

  Dante shook his head in frustration. “Dammit!” he cursed softly. “I should never have – never mind. It’s a moot point anyway. Have you told Angela about this – that you’re going to be alone on Christmas?”

  “Angela’s got enough on her plate right now with being pregnant and planning a wedding,” retorted Cara. “Besides, she’s my boss and my friend, but not my mother. Nor is she responsible for me. Look, forget about it, okay? I’m sorry I even mentioned it. I’m a grown woman, Dante, and I’ve been looking after myself for a long time now. And by the way - you aren’t responsible for me, either.”

  “Someone needs to be,” he replied angrily. “It isn’t right that you’re alone like this, Cara. Especially during the holidays. I wish..”

  “Cara. Do you have everything ready for the Raymond review? They’ll be arriving in a few minutes and I’d like to go over all the charts first.”

  Cara and Dante’s heads both swerved simultaneously to glance in the direction of Angela’s voice – Cara’s in silent gratitude and Dante’s in visible annoyance. Angela looked anything but pleased to see Dante hovering over her assistant’s desk, and glared at him disdainfully.

  “Yes. Of course. I just finished putting everything inside a folder. Here.”

  Cara surged to her feet as she extended the folder towards her boss. Dante’s eyes widened in surprise as they raked over her noticeably slimmer figure, but he remained silent as Angela continued to give him the evil eye.

  “Nick’s not around this afternoon, Dante,” Angela informed him haughtily. “And Cara’s got a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let her get back to work.”

  Dante chuckled before sauntering over to where Angela stood framed like an avenging angel in the doorway to her office. He gave her a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek. “And here I thought impending motherhood would soften you up a little,” he teased. “But you’re still tough as nails, I see.”

  Angela scowled. “Seriously, Dante? I’m still suffering from morning sickness, Nick watches every morsel I put into my mouth to make sure it’s nutritious, and he insists on accompanying me on all of my runs to make sure I don’t overdo it. You’re lucky I’m in this good of a mood right now. Why are you here anyway?”

  “He, um, brought gifts, Angela,” supplied Cara helpfully. “For me and Deepak and Leah and Tyler. Christmas gifts, that is.”

  Dante grinned at the stormy eyed Angela. “I’ll be sending a gift for you and Nick to the house. It was a little too big to carry over here this afternoon. Just my way of saying thanks to your team for providing such exceptional customer service.”

  Cara met Angela’s gaze briefly, reading the concern for her there. She gave a brief nod to indicate that she was doing okay with seeing her ex-lover again for the first time in three months, and that Angela didn’t have to keep protecting her.

  “It’s what we do, after all,” replied Angela briskly. “But thanks for your consideration, Dante. I’m sure everyone will appreciate your generosity. Cara, I’ll be in the back conference room if you need me. The receptionist knows to send the Raymonds directly there when they arrive. See you in an hour or so.”

  The moment Angela disappeared from view, Dante returned his attention to Cara, and she cringed at the fiery, almost angry expression on his face.

  “Now I know why you look so different,” he told her, his gaze once more roaming over her body. “How much weight have you lost? And what the hell compelled you to do something like that in the first place?”

  Cara’s small chin jutted forward defiantly. “I haven’t lost that much weight, so you don’t need to go ballistic on me,” she scolded. “As for why I did it, that’s really none of your business, is it? But if you must know, I did it to feel better about myself. I wasn’t eating right, wasn’t exercising enough, and now that I’m doing both I’m thrilled with the results.”

  She smoothed down the skirt of the black knit dress she was wearing today. It had been a gift from her mother the last Christmas they’d had together, not realizing at the time, of course, that Sharon would be dead by the spring. The dress was long-sleeved, with a narrow belt, the hem hitting a couple of inches above the knee. Cara had chosen to wear it today because it was so cold outside, and had been thrilled to see how well it fit after her nearly twenty pound weight loss. The last time she’d actually fit into the dress had been at Sharon’s funeral more than four years ago.

  Dante’s mouth tightened disapprovingly. “Well, don’t lose any more weight, okay? You’re already too thin.”

  “Seriously?” she asked incredulously. “First, you don’t get to tell me what to do. And second, I’ve seen pictures of your girlfriend online, and she’s a whole lot thinner than I am. Do you try and control her the same way?”

  He did not look pleased at the reference to Katie, and made a brusque gesture with his hand. “That’s immaterial. And I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Cara. I’m just concerned about you is all. And losing so much weight in just a few months time isn’t really healthy.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been sensible about it. No crash dieting or anything stupid like that. And it really isn’t as much weight as you might think. Being this short, carrying as little as an extra five pounds shows up pretty quickly.”

  “Fine.” He shrugged in resignation. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing this to – well, because of me, I suppose.”

  Cara gaped at him in disbelief. “Omigod, you cannot be serious! And here I thought Nick was the one with the oversized male ego. But to answer your question – no. I did not set out to lose weight to impress you, Dante. Or make you regret breaking things off with me back in September. Or remind you of exactly what you could have had. I did this for me, dammit! Just for me. Not to impress you or my father or anyone else, male or female.”

  He stared at her for long seconds, as though unable to believe his previously sweet, docile Cara had so much fire in her. And then he nodded briefly, almost approvingly. “Good. Because as I’m sure you’ve realized by now, I’m not worth the effort, Cara. And believe me, honey, you don’t ever have to remind me of what I gave up when I walked away from you. I’m all too aware.”

  They were both silent for what seemed like an endlessly long, extremely uncomfortable period of time, but what was likely just a minute or so. Both avoided eye contact with the other, the silence hanging heavy in the air.

  Finally, Cara sat back down in her desk chair, mumbling awkwardly, “I, uh, have to get back to work now. Angela wasn’t kidding when she told you I had a packed schedule today. I’ll make sure everyone gets their gift. And thank you. For mine, that is.”

  “It’s nothing,” he replied in a hollow voice. “Just a thought is all. I wanted to do so much more for you, Cara. I wish you would have accepted that check, that you weren’t so stubborn and proud.”

  “Well, I am,” she declared fiercely. “Stubborn and proud and independent till the end. Unlike your girlfriend, I don’t need a man to buy me expensive gifts. All I need is – never mind. Enjoy your holiday, Dante. Good bye.”

  The office phone buzzed then, and she snatched the receiver up on the first ring, giving silent thanks for the timely interruption. Cara glanced up at Dante as she answered the call, and the anguished look on his face nearly made her drop the phone and hurry over to give him a comforting hug. But before she could seriously consider doing just that, he whispered “Merry Christmas, Cara mia”, then turned and headed out of the office as though the place was on fire.

  The knock on her front door startled her, since the last thing she was expecting was a visitor, and especially not at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. It had been raining off and on since last night, so Cara had elected to work out indoors this morning and was still wearing her exercise garb as she went to answer the door. She’d pushed herself extra hard this morning, determined to work off all the extra calories she had consumed at dinner last night.

 
Angela had been both alarmed and unhappy when she’d learned that Cara was going to be alone on Christmas, and not traveling to Florida as usual. She had initially tried to convince Cara to accompany her and Nick to her family’s Christmas Day gathering down in Carmel, but had quickly abandoned the idea when Cara gently reminded her that she had to work the next day. Plus, Nick and Angela were flying to Mexico the day after Christmas to rendezvous with his mother, the famous actress Sheena Sumner, and vacationing there until New Year’s Day.

  As a compromise, Angela had insisted that she and Nick at least take Cara out to a nice dinner, which they had done last evening. They had brought her to the very private, very exclusive club Nick belonged to – the Biltmore – and Cara had been dazzled by both the elegant décor and the sumptuous food. They had driven her home afterwards, scoffing at her suggestion of taking a taxi or Uber, and hadn’t bothered to hide their dismay at seeing how small and dismal her studio was.

  “Hey,” Nick had cautioned her, “make sure you put this deadbolt on every single time you’re inside this rabbit hutch, okay? Jesus, I don’t think I can stand up straight in here. This place makes the apartment Angela was living in when I first met her look like a penthouse in comparison. I should have given you a bigger bonus, Cara.”

  Cara had given a firm shake of her head. “No way. You’ve been more than generous to me, both of you. And I’ll be out of this place in less than a year, I promise. I’ll be able to afford something much better after I don’t have tuition to pay.”

  Nick had muttered something under his breath, but the only words Cara had been able to catch had been “father” and “asshat”.

  Nick had waggled a finger in warning as he and Angela left. “And be damned careful walking through this neighborhood, okay? Do you have mace or pepper spray?”

  “No,” she’d admitted reluctantly. “I keep meaning to buy some, but I always get sidetracked.”

  “Here.” Angela withdrew a slim canister from her purse. “I always carry some with me during my runs, and got into the habit of having one with me at all times. This is a spare. Considering that Nick and I live at the end of a private driveway, have a state of the art security system, and that he’d beat the living shit out of anyone who tried to attack me, I think you need this more than I do.”

  They had both given her a quick hug good-bye, taking Cara by surprise since neither of them were overly affectionate, and wished her a Merry Christmas.

  Cara glanced briefly at the canister of pepper spray that she’d left on the dining table, wondering if she should grab it before answering the door. But before she could, another knock sounded, this time accompanied by a voice calling out “Delivery”.

  She peered out the one small window her apartment boasted, and spied a Federal Express van double parked outside. Relieved, she opened the door and gasped in disbelief when she saw the number of boxes that the deliveryman had loaded onto his hand cart.

  “You want me to bring these inside for you?” inquired the uniformed driver. “That’s actually on the delivery instructions.”

  “Um, yeah. Sure. I mean, thank you,” mumbled Cara, stepping aside so the driver could push his load a few feet inside the small room. She watched wide-eyed as he deftly lifted each box from the cart and stacked them neatly side by side. The entire process took less than ninety seconds, with the driver wishing her happy holidays as he wheeled the hand cart back to his van and drove off.

  “What in the world could all of this be?” she asked out loud, taking a brief glance at the shipping labels. “More importantly, who sent it?”

  As she rummaged through a drawer to find the scissors, Cara immediately eliminated Mirai from the list of potential gift givers. For one thing, her BFF had already decided that her Christmas gift to Cara was going to be a brand new outfit - complete with sexy undies - when the two of them went shopping after New Year’s. And second, Mirai had once again maxed out her credit cards and was even now preparing to sweet talk her father into bailing her out one more time.

  And there was no possible way that even one of these boxes was from her father, thought Cara wryly. She’d received a holiday card from him and Holly a few days ago, a photo card with the two of them and the kids with all of their names pre-printed. There had been no personal note, not even a signature, but Cara had frankly been surprised to receive even that much.

  Nick and Angela had already given her the much-anticipated year-end bonus - an admittedly generous check that would finally allow her to replace the laptop that was definitely on its last legs. As she knelt to cut open the packaging tape on the first box, Cara wondered if perhaps the delivery driver had brought the boxes to the wrong door, and that all of this was meant for her landlady.

  But the moment she extracted the contents from the first box, she knew that no mistake had been made. And she also knew without having to look at the enclosed card who had sent her all of this – Dante.

  She ran a hand reverently over the top of the line Microsoft Surface Book. She’d read the reviews on this particular model while searching online for possible replacements to her aging laptop, but had immediately eliminated this one because it had been way, way out of her modest budget. She had never imagined she would ever own anything this nice, at least not until she’d been working for several years and was more financially stable.

  The rest of the boxes revealed a veritable treasure trove of presents - an assortment of two dozen different DVDs, all of them recent movies and popular TV shows; a buttery soft cream cashmere bathrobe and matching slippers; an exquisite laptop case in dove gray leather; an enormous food hamper, packed in dry ice, that contained all manner of delicious things - an entire prime rib dinner including side dishes; imported cheeses, a charcuterie platter, and a fresh baguette; two bottles of wine, one each of red and white that she already knew were horrendously expensive; and enough sweets and desserts to feed the entire neighborhood – cookies, chocolate truffles, petit fours, a whole cheesecake. Cara shuddered a little to think about how many calories even a single slice of the latter must contain. There were also items for breakfast, and other snacks and delicacies.

  Tears were already beginning to mist over her vision as she reached for the last box. She should have known that Dante wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of her being alone at Christmas, but never in her wildest imagination had she envisioned him doing all of this. He’d chosen the gifts for her with care, too, making sure that they were things she needed and would like. And since there were no receipts of any kind, no tags, or packing slips, there was no way she’d be able to try and return anything. He had, she realized with a smile, anticipated her reaction all too well, and had carefully circumvented any possibility of her refusing the gifts.

  As she opened the last box, she wasn’t able to hold back the tears any longer, though they were happy, giddy tears as she gazed in amusement at the enormous stuffed toy. Cara drew it out carefully, unable to resist burying her face in the soft, plush fur. It was a dog of some sort, with huge floppy ears and a goofy grin, and it was nearly as big as she was. It was dressed for winter in a red wool hat, red and green plaid scarf, and matching vest. A card had been tied to the scarf, and she recognized the bold writing as Dante’s.

  “Hope this not so little guy keeps you company. Because nobody should be alone at Christmas. Happy Holidays, Cara mia.”

  Impulsively, before she lost her nerve, Cara sought out her phone, then scrolled through her modest list of contacts. It had never occurred to her to delete Dante’s name from the list, mostly because she had contacted him so infrequently in the past. But she was so overcome with emotion right now, so deeply touched by his thoughtful gifts, that she had to let him know.

  “Just finished opening all the beautiful gifts. A mere thank you couldn’t begin to express how much they mean to me. And be prepared for a shock, because for once I’m not going to argue about accepting things from you. Or worry that I need to give you something in retur
n. Thank you so much, and happy holidays to you and your family, too.”

  She began to unpack the food hamper, wondering how in the world she was going to fit all of the perishable items in her small refrigerator, when her phone pinged with an incoming text. It was from Dante, who hadn’t waited more than a minute or two to respond to her message.

  “I’m very happy to hear that you liked all the gifts, and even happier to know that you aren’t threatening to take them back. As for giving me something in return, just knowing how much you like everything is all the gift I need. I’ll be thinking of you on Christmas, and wishing like hell that you could be here with my family and me. Take care of yourself, honey.”

  Ever since making the decision not to fly to Florida for Christmas and set herself up for being alternately ignored and miserable, Cara had feared that she’d regret her choice after the reality of being completely alone set in. But as the day progressed quietly but serenely, she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was the best Christmas she’d had since the last one she’d spent with her mother.

  She slept in late, worked out even though it was Christmas (because she knew she’d be going way off her diet all day), showered, and then ate a leisurely breakfast using some of the items from the food hamper Dante had sent over - freshly ground coffee, gourmet pancake mix and real maple syrup, fresh fruit, and a sinfully decadent caramel sticky bun. She spent a couple of hours transferring files and programs to her new laptop, then made herself a cup of cocoa and watched one of her new movies.

  Mirai called at one point and they chatted for nearly an hour. Angela called, too, as did Frannie, both of them wishing her a Merry Christmas, and none too subtly checking up on her.

  And she was shocked when her father’s phone number popped up in the caller ID, and answered the call a bit warily. The conversation was brief and somewhat stilted, with Mark rather reluctantly asking how she’d been and how she was spending the day. He had the good graces to sound guilty to realize she was alone, and mumbled something about “hopefully next year we can work something different out” before ending the call.