by Noelle Adams
The department store was crowded, and the retail staff had been kept hopping, trying to straighten up the merchandise after each new wave of customers. Carrie used to enjoy Christmas shopping—even with the chaotic hoards of people and the pressure of the approaching deadline. Today, she wasn’t enjoying it at all.
She wasn’t sure how to describe the heavy feeling in her gut. It wasn’t grief as she understood it, although it was akin. She missed Henry—she still missed Henry at random times and places—but the pain wasn’t as sharp as she’d feared it would be with all the trappings of Christmas surrounding her.
This heavy feeling was different, and it had only intensified as she pushed her way through loud families, laughing groups of friends, and couples.
She was supposed to go shopping with Jenn today, but her sister had woken up with a bad cold. Carrie had wanted to use that as an excuse to stay home too, but that felt like a defeat. She’d given into that kind of defeat all year, but she didn’t want to surrender today for some reason. So she’d gone shopping by herself, and she was determined not to go home until she found everything she needed.
So far she hadn’t found anything, and she couldn’t get rid of that weird, heavy ache in her belly.
She picked up a dark red sweater and held it up, gauging the size and trying to visualize it on her father. It was a wool-cashmere blend and price at forty percent off. But the color didn’t look right so she put it down.
Her eyes lingered on a deep blue sweater. She stroked it gently, thinking it would exactly match Matt’s eyes. But she didn’t pick that one up.
Instead, she chose a bright red one and shook out the folds. She turned when something hit her in the back of the legs.
A shopping bag. The woman carrying it apologized and then giggled up at the man she was with.
And it hit Carrie then what the heavy feeling was.
She was lonely.
Not with the aching grief of losing Henry, but an everyday loneliness. She wanted someone with her, and she had no one. She hadn’t felt lonely like that for ages—since last Christmas.
For no reason at all, she wondered what it would be like to actually go out with Matt in public, go on dates, go Christmas shopping with him.
Carrie stared at the red sweater she held and imagined Matt’s snide comment.
“Red isn’t really my color.”
The wry voice sounded so natural that Carrie smiled faintly, and when she turned her head, it seemed inevitable that Matt would be standing beside her, a half-smile on his lips and his eyebrows raised inquisitively.
“It’s for my dad.”
“Oh. Then it’s probably all right.”
Carrie’s smile broadened, and she draped the sweater across her arm, deciding it would do for her father’s gift.
“Do I even merit a Christmas present from you?” Matt asked, eyeing the red sweater without favor.
Her eyes strayed to the deep blue one she’d noticed before, but she sniffed disdainfully. “Of course not. What could I give you that you can’t buy for yourself?”
Something smoldered in his blue eyes. “I’m sure I could think of something.”
It was the tug of desire in response to his husky voice that awoke Carrie’s common sense at last. She gasped and grabbed at his arm. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I felt like Christmas shopping.”
“You followed me?”
“That was the only way I could know where you went.”
“That’s kind of creepy, you know.”
“Not really. I don’t follow you all the time or lurk in the shadows. You said Jenn wasn’t able to come today, so I just followed to see what store you went to.
“So you’re planning to join me?”
“Of course.”
“And the fact that you weren’t invited…”
“Is irrelevant to me. If you don’t want to hang out with me, then I can do my own shopping in the same general vicinity.”
His pleased expression and the ironic laughter he was obviously hiding were so contagious that Carrie laughed out loud.
The heavy feeling in her gut disappeared.
***
She never would have thought Matt would be a good companion on a shopping trip, but he was. And their exploration of various stores was punctuated with lively arguments and bouts of laughter. The laughter was mostly on Carrie’s part, since Matt maintained a pretense of superior calm, but she knew the warm amusement in his eyes meant he was having a good time too.
They were leaving a novelty store, where she’d found some inexpensive gifts for her friends at work, when she saw someone she knew turning a corner and approaching.
Sandra had been an art history major at the same university and had been in several classes with Carrie. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year, but Sandra recognized her immediately and came over with a grin and a curious look at Matt.
Carrie didn’t introduce him.
“Hey, it’s good to see you, Carrie. I asked around, but no one seemed to know what you were doing.”
“I’ve been working.” She assumed everyone knew what happened to Henry. The plane crash had been headline news for a couple of weeks. But she’d pulled away from all of her friends from college, so she wasn’t surprised Sandra didn’t know where she’d been working. “I guess you’ve graduated by now.”
“Yeah. I started the Master’s program this fall. So you’re not going back to school?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s too bad. You were always the smartest of us all.”
Carrie felt strange, but she smiled politely and murmured some sort of response. After another minute of small talk, Sandra said goodbye.
“She would have recognized your name,” Carrie explained, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and looking up at Matt. “That’s why I didn’t introduce you.”
A smile played at the corners of Matt’s mouth. “Yeah, I figured. I didn’t think you were ashamed to be seen with me.”
Carrie narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what his knowing expression meant. “Okay. Good.”
Matt put a casual hand on the small of her back to urge her forward, preventing a jam on the crowded sidewalk. “You could have told her my name if you’d wanted.”
“I just told you. She knows art. She would have recognized your name. You’re supposed to be hiding from the world, aren’t you?”
“I’ve just been avoiding the old scene. It’s not like I can’t go out in public.”
“Okay.” She slanted him a look, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He’d laid the ground rules for their relationship, after all, and introducing him to her former friends wasn’t the best way to maintain their boundaries.
“So you were the best in your classes?” Matt asked.
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“Did you get all A’s?”
“Yeah. But I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.”
“Have you thought about going back to school?”
Carrie stiffened at the question. “Why would I?”
“Because maybe you don’t want to work at a coffee shop all your life, and art history was something you were good at. You can’t do that kind of work without a degree.”
“I’m not going to do that kind of work.” She felt defensive and unsettled, like Matt was poking at a sensitive spot. He’d never asked her anything like that before, and it didn’t feel like such questioning should be part of their relationship.
“Why not?” His voice was mild, almost a caress, but his eyes were sharp.
“You know why. I’m through with that part of my life. I prefer things the way they are now.” Her throat ached, but she thought she did a pretty good job of sounding cool and casual.
Matt obviously wasn’t fooled by her attempt. “Carrie,” he said, his voice thickening slightly. He pushed her back into an alley and pressed his body against hers, his heat and his strength both intimidating and i
ntoxicating. “Carrie, I don’t really think you do.”
She made an indignant sound in her throat, flattening her palms against his chest in a futile attempt to push him away. “What the hell do you know about it? You might be arrogant enough to invite yourself on my shopping trip, but you can’t really be arrogant enough to think you can read my mind and—”
“Carrie,” Matt interrupted sharply, imprisoning her gaze with his. His expression was intense. And dead sober. “It’s not arrogance. If you’re genuinely happy with things as they are, then I won’t say another word about it.”
Carrie’s mouth fell open as she processed his words and his expression. She suddenly wasn’t exactly sure what he was talking about. “I’m fine working at the coffee shop,” she managed to say.
His expression softened, and one hand slid up to cup her hot cheek. “Are you sure you just want to be fine?”
“It’s too late to—”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re twenty-two. It’s not too late for anything.”
Her heart was pounding, and it was only partly because of his closeness. She was suddenly wondering if maybe she could go back to college, have the career she used to want. Maybe it wouldn’t be tainted with the bitterness she’d thought would always define it last year. “I—I…” She had absolutely no idea what to say.
“You what?” Matt murmured, tilting his head down and grazing his lips against her ear. His warm breath and the vibrations from his voice sent chills of pleasure down her spine. He’d dropped her shopping bags at their feet. “You agree I’m brilliantly insightful?”
“No. I’d never agree to anything like that.” She’d arched unconsciously against him, pressing her body eagerly against his. Her arms had twined around his neck, and she was only barely conscious of the fact that they were in an alley just off a busy city sidewalk.
Matt sucked on her earlobe deliciously, making her whimper. Then he said against her ear, “Oh well. It was worth a try.”
Carrie felt like she would melt, but she managed to pull away reluctantly. “Anyway, you have no room to talk about my going back to school, since you haven’t painted since the accident.”
He gave her a strange look and didn’t respond. Her heart fluttered, and she wondered if she’d overstepped their boundaries. But Matt was the one who initiated the intimate conversation, so he shouldn’t be surprised if she responded in kind.
Then he reached down to pick up the bags again with a teasing smile. “I guess you put me in my place. If you’re done shopping, I can think of a few other things we might do to pass the afternoon.”
Carrie knew exactly what he had in mind, and the return to their familiar sexual spark was actually comforting. The emotional intimacy of the last few minutes was something entirely new to their relationship. It was thrilling, but it just wasn’t comfortable.
She rolled her eyes. “Get your mind out of the bedroom. I’m not even halfway done. Now I need to find something for Jenn.” She noticed something across the street. “Oh! Bookstore!”
Matt fell in step with her. “Is Jenn really going to want a book for Christmas?”
“Why do you ask that? You don’t know Jenn at all. She might be a bookworm.”
“She doesn’t sound like one from the way you talk about her.”
It had never occurred to Carrie that he might know anything about her sister from the casual things she’d said over the last three months. It was a strange realization and made her heart beat faster. “I might be able to find her something here. Besides, maybe I can find something for me.”
She and Matt spent forty-five minutes scanning the shelves. And, though Carrie ended up with an armful of books, none of them were for Jenn. They ended up in the Sexuality section, where the cover of a hardback book caught her eye. It looked like a coffee-table book, but it was beautifully illustrated with artistic images of different sexual positions.
She stared at the pictures, mesmerized, and Matt appeared equally diverted, reading over her shoulder.
“Oh my God!” Carrie gasped, as she turned the page and was confronted with an erotic image of a beautiful couple tangled intimately in an exotic position.
At some point, Matt had slid his arm around her waist and had pressed her body back against his. “We have got to try that one,” he murmured thickly.
Her inner muscles clenched at the texture of his voice, and she turned her head back to meet his eyes.
The hot hunger in his expression was unmistakable. When her mouth parted, he leaned down to claim it with his, sliding his tongue sensuously along the inside of her lips.
She moaned involuntarily and nearly dropped the large book.
Then a fellow shopper brushed by behind them, mumbling irritably, “Get a room.”
Carrie giggled helplessly as they broke off the kiss, her cheeks burning and her body still stimulated. “I can’t believe I’ve become one of those annoying women who make out in the middle of a store.”
Matt’s face was slightly flushed too, and his body was tenser than normal. “We can always find a more appropriate place.”
“I’ve got more shopping to do.” She closed the gorgeous book and added it to her pile. “Jenn will think this book is hilarious.”
“Maybe you should buy yourself a copy too,” Matt suggested. “Just for future reference.”
“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I can contort my body into some of those positions. I’m going to go buy these. I’ll be right back.”
She headed off to the cashier and had to wait in line a frustrating length of time. When she finally completed her purchases, she found Matt absorbed in another book.
This one wasn’t filled with sexy pictures. It was a large, glossy book of Rembrandt paintings.
Matt returned the book to the shelf without comment when he became aware of her presence, but Carrie wasn’t likely to miss what he’d been looking at.
“Now where?” he asked. “I suppose I couldn’t be fortunate enough for us to be done yet.”
“You’re the one who wanted to join me. And, no, we’re not done yet. But I’m famished now. We’d better find something to eat.”
***
They ended up at a sandwich shop, where they got soup and panini. As Carrie was finishing up her meal, she studied Matt covertly. He looked relaxed and attractive in his black shirt and worn jeans. He’d finished eating before her and was now sipping his coffee and looking around the restaurant, a smile lingering on his lips.
She wondered what he was thinking. What he was doing here with her. He appeared to be enjoying the afternoon, despite his occasional complaints. Then she suddenly asked herself how long it might have been since Matt had done something as simple as go shopping with someone else.
He used to be the hit of the art scene—surrounded by friends, women, and lackeys. But she wondered how many of those friends and girlfriends had really been close.
“Are you lonely?” she asked, the question spilling out without thought or volition.
Matt cut his eyes back over to her sharply. “Excuse me?”
Carrie flushed slightly, wishing she’d never asked such a stupid thing. But, trapped in her voiced inquiry, she repeated, “Sorry. I was just wondering if maybe you were lonely.”
“Why would you say that?” His words and expression were wary, careful.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve pulled back from everyone. I know why and that it was your choice, but I thought maybe you might feel all alone…sometimes.” She ended weakly, knowing that Matt tended to bristle if his pretense at self-sufficiency and invulnerability was questioned.
He gave her a teasing smile. “Ah, but I’m involved in a sleazy affair that keeps me well occupied.”
She snorted at the clever way he’d used her own words against her. But she persisted, “Yes, there’s that. But still. That’s only a couple nights a week.”
Matt’s expression sobered, and he stared off at an empty spot in the air. “I do all right on
my own.”
Carrie knew this was the end of the conversation. If she pushed it, he would close down completely. But she wondered if his words were true. He always seemed poised, confident, and satisfied during the times they were together. But she wondered how he felt during all the hours they spent apart.
She wondered if he felt lonely and in-between, now that the sharpest of the grief had dulled. Like she did.
She ate her last few spoonfuls of butternut squash soup. Then she asked, before she lost the courage, “Do you ever think about painting again?” She kept her tone casual so he wouldn’t think she was digging too deeply into his soul.
He gave a half shrug and put down his coffee mug. It took him nearly a minute to answer. “All the time.”
He didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t meet her eyes. She couldn’t read his expression.
But it was enough. She understood. And she didn’t pursue the questioning. She just murmured, “Well, you should. Not just for the world—not just for what we’re missing out on. But for you.”
Matt got up to clear their plates, and when he returned things had shifted back to normal between them. He gave her a faint sneer and asked, “So just how much more shopping do we have?”
She grinned. “You’re in luck, I think. I’ve got all the presents. All I need now is to find a dress for my aunt’s Christmas party next weekend.”
Matt’s brows drew together. “What party is that?”
“My aunt lives here, and she always throws a big, fancy Christmas party. I have to go.”
“Why do you have to go? Don’t you want to?”
“Not really. But she always tries to be nice and include me, so I’ll feel like an ass if I don’t. Plus, my parents will find out I didn’t go and will worry even more. I just hate going to that kind of party by myself.”
“Ah,” Matt breathed, as if he were enlightened. “Can’t you wrangle yourself a date?”
She shot him a suspicious look. “Well, I could. But I’m presently involved in a sleazy affair with a rather unreasonable guy who gets in the way of my social life. Like calling me the minute I got home from my innocent double date last night and demanding a full account of the proceedings.”