She squeezed him hard then, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Henry, of course Santa Claus will bring you toys! I can’t wait! You’re going to love Christmas this year, my trout. Come on, let's see if we can get you on Santa's lap for a second.”
Off they went, hand in hand, into the throngs of shoppers, bustling through the noise and the merriment of the Village to find the jolly old elf and his photographer.
***
“Well, how adorable,” Darlene murmured, holding up the photo of Henry sitting on the mall Santa’s knee. “Come take a gander at this, Cash! Sam, how in the world did you manage to get him to sit still long enough?”
“I bribed him,” Samantha said. “When he saw him, he acted scared at first, but I promised him a turn on the helicopter ride if he sat for the picture.”
Cash got up from the chair in front of his PC and joined them. “Good thinking,” he said, checking out the pic over Darlene's shoulder.
The front door swung open with a whoosh of cold air. A moment later, Veronica burst into the living room, unbuttoning her coat.
“Come see Henry with Santa Claus, Ronnie,” Cash said.
While Veronica went to examine the photo, the phone rang. Samantha slipped into the kitchen and answered it, instantly elated when she recognized Kalen's cheerful voice.
“What's shaking, beautiful?”
“Hi, Kalen.” She smiled into the receiver, speaking in a hushed tone so she wouldn’t be overheard in the next room. “I went to the Village Mall with Henry.”
“Good stuff. Hey, I hoped we could get together later. That is, if you're free tonight.”
“Yes, I’m free. What did you have in mind?” She chewed on the fleshy inside of her cheek, something she found herself doing whenever doubt tormented her. Would Kalen find her quiet introversion boring? Would she be able to engage him with interesting conversation, or would the evening fall flat because of her insecurity where dating was concerned? A war of emotions waged inside of her, but she projected her trusty, outwardly calm demeanor.
“I can pick you up around nine if you like. We can take it from there and catch up. Or do whatever you want.”
“Sure. I'll be here. Do you know the address?” Samantha gave him the info and hung up.
Even though sudden flutters had taken up residence in her stomach, she had to admit she now counted the minutes until she saw him again. She could hardly wait for nine o'clock to come.
Chapter Four
A flood of relief swept over Samantha when Veronica left for Gina's place after supper. She hated to say goodbye to Henry, but neither did she want her sister to give her any more grief about Kalen, particularly now that she’d made a date with him. Her first bona fide date in years! She opted to keep him a secret for as long as she could. When Darlene asked her who had telephoned, she said it was an old friend.
She sat ready and waiting by a quarter to nine, but he didn't pull up in front of the house until almost half past. Closing the front door behind her, she took a deep breath and braced herself for the car ride.
“Sorry I'm late,” he offered when she slid into the front passenger seat of his old Hyundai Excel hatchback.
“No sweat,” she said, warmed by his smile and struck once again by how maturity had perfected him. Sitting so near to him in the small car, she smelled his cologne, liking its fresh, woodsy scent. She could imagine what the other girls at her school would say if they saw him. “He’s a hottie, Sam! What a babe!” Or: “Whoa, I’d hit that. He’s slammin’, girl!”
Naturally shy, she also thought it improper to whine about his tardiness. Besides, he had apologized.
“My roommate hogged the bathroom at the exact time I needed to take a shower.”
“Anyone I know?”
“It's Mel. I don't think you know her. She plays drums in our band.”
Samantha stared at him. “You live with a girl?” That sexy drummer?
Kalen laughed, one hand on the steering wheel as he adjusted the volume on the dashboard. “I love this one.” He turned up the hard rock AC/DC tune and tapped on the wheel in time with the music.
“Melody, her name is. She’s Gerry's girlfriend. Gerry, as in our lead singer. I live with both of them.”
“I see,” Samantha said, nodding. “Do you hear from Allison much? I’m assuming she's still in Halifax?” Her closest high school friend, Allison, was also Kalen’s cousin. She and Kalen had been Samantha’s only real friends since she’d moved to St. John's, although she hadn't seen Allison in more than two years.
Kalen slowed the car and waited at a crosswalk to let a pair of pedestrians pass. Samantha watched them wave and break into a little run. She found it funny how people often did that, speeding up to oblige the driver for his kindness.
“Nah, Allie almost never comes home anymore. Since she got accepted at King's College and met the boyfriend, I've barely laid eyes on her. Doing well, though, I hear.”
“I guess she'll have that journalism career like she’d planned,” Samantha said, thinking of her old friend and her talent and penchant for writing. “I miss her.” She thought of all the people who used to fill her life, but didn’t any longer. It had started with her Nana's dementia and death, then their father leaving and remarrying. And as much as she fought against it and wished it weren't so, Ben reigned supreme, at the head of that list and uppermost in her mind.
As if reading her thoughts, Kalen threw her a sentimental half-smile. “You probably miss our mutual buddy too, huh?”
“Have you kept in contact with him?” She tried to make her voice sound casual and only halfway interested. She didn't want him to feel jealous for no good reason, and with their date just getting underway.
“Nope. I did hear he’s enrolled at Dalhousie, though, from Trevor, one of our school chums. Remember him? He bumped into Ben last month at a hockey game, he told me.”
Samantha nodded. “Dalhousie, hey? Trevor mention what he's taking?”
“I forget. But I guess he got his head screwed on right afterwards.” His hand, as if by reflex, went up to his jaw for a fleeting second. “A shame about his dad’s T-bird, and of course, you two getting all banged up. ’Tis a wonder you weren’t killed.”
Samantha recalled the night Ben had punched Kalen in the mouth over a misunderstanding and knocked out one of his teeth. In some ways, it felt like yesterday. She hoped Ben had accepted the help his father had wanted for him when they moved away. His depression and anger issues had played a huge part in her decision to end things, though it had almost killed her to do it.
“Oh, and I do recall something about a girl.”
“He has a girlfriend now, too?”
“Trevor mentioned a Clarisse or Cherise or someone. She was hanging onto his arm at the hockey game. Ben introduced them. A willowy, French Canadian chick with the face of an angel, he said. I guess he's truly moved on, hey?”
Nodding, Samantha swallowed but didn't reply. She looked out the side window, trying to process this new information Kalen had dropped on her. Steeling herself against the immediate knife edge of hurt, her gaze roved over an empty parking lot at the end of the street, coming to rest on a small mongrel dog. A crackie, her mother would call it. He sniffed at a piece of trash on the ground, then looked up to stare at her with rheumy eyes before the car whisked her out of his line of sight.
Moved on indeed. With this gorgeous willowy creature with a French accent, whoever she was. Samantha wondered why this should leave her dismayed. Ben was a smart, handsome guy and as free as a bird. Did she think he would forever be pining over a silly sixteen-year-old from his youth? Then why did she feel so bummed out all of a sudden?
Did he ever think about his son? If Ben had taken up dating again, he must have recovered from his depression, she reasoned. It puzzled her to think he didn’t want Henry in his life at all, even though Veronica did zip to encourage the relationship.
Through the windshield, she watched as the row-houses, painted in vibrant colours, came into
view. They were back in her old neighbourhood. Kalen brought the hatchback to a stop on Gower Street in front of a garish red, two-storey house with bright yellow trim.
“You mind sitting tight here for a sec? I’ve gotta see a guy about something. Just be a minute. Then for the rest of the night, I'm yours.” Without waiting for an answer, he slammed the door and disappeared around the rear of the two-storey abode.
Samantha sank into her seat with a sigh, feeling decidedly peevish. This date, or whatever you might call it, she realized, resembled a simple night of hanging out with an old friend. So far, he’d been late, seemed to have nary a plan for what they were going to do, had given her news concerning Ben she didn't want to hear, and now this. What’s more, she had to fight to hide her nervousness riding in a car again.
Perhaps she’d misconstrued the whole thing between them the other night and he had no romantic interest in her after all. Mixed signals? Just pals? And besides all of that, was she truly ready to move on as well?
He reappeared in four minutes. “Sorry about the wait. But know what? I might be getting a place of my own soon.”
Samantha wondered how a guy who played in a band on scattered weekends and without a steady job could afford to pay full rent for an apartment. “Good news, I guess,” she answered.
“Listen, Sam, you hungry? Or thirsty?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “Are you?”
“It can wait. There's something I want to show you first.” He put the car in drive and checked his rear-view mirror.
He drove around the corner to Military Road, her old street, and parked by the curb. “Come on,” he said, getting out. He walked around the hatchback and took her hand as she got out and closed her door. “You've got to see the new Christmas lights in the park.”
“Yeah? Never took you for the festive sort.” She flashed him a tentative grin. “But it sounds charming.”
In silence, they strolled the short distance down the darkened sidewalk. Samantha dipped her nose into the folds of her woolen scarf, screwing up her face at the pungent smell of exhaust fumes as a Metrobus roared past.
They turned into the entryway of Bannerman Park. Over their heads, a canopy of tiny, colourful, twinkling lights adorned the bare branches of the trees, giving the entire outdoor area a Christmassy feel. They weren't the only ones who’d thought to take a walk here on a Saturday night. She peered around at several other couples, both young and old, enjoying the quiet winter holiday scene, St. John's style. Under the lights in the chilled air, everyone's breath hung suspended in miniature clouds as they chatted and strolled by. Samantha shivered and tied her scarf more tightly under her chin. The wind, light yet frosty, penetrated her tweed jacket. She scolded herself for neglecting to wear an extra sweater underneath.
Kalen smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “Forget your gloves? Here, we'll share mine.” He gave her his black leather glove, the right one, and pulled her left hand into his pocket, wrapping it, nice and cozy, inside his own. He wore the left glove. She appreciated the chivalrous gesture, liking the warm pocket and almost wishing she were small enough to tuck her entire self in there. She still had difficulty reconciling this man with the boy she’d hung out with so often in her teens.
“Is Rita still on her own?” She thought of his mother and recalled his teenaged account of his rocky and fatherless childhood. Raised chiefly by his maternal grandparents, an eager seventeen-year-old Kalen had at last gone to live with Rita when she’d moved out of Iris Kirby House and into her own apartment, after she’d escaped a relationship that had turned abusive.
He told her now how he’d moved out again when her most recent ‘boy-fiend’ took up residence. He and Kalen had been too combative with each other to live under the same roof. “Yeah, I'd say she's poisoned with men by now. She got rid of that last loser a couple months back.”
“That's so sad.”
“No need to feel sorry for her. I think it's finally sinking in how she's better off alone than with some creep. She's doing fine without a man.”
“And your grandparents?”
“Nan died of a stroke last year. Pop is in Hoyles Nursing Home. Advanced Parkinson's.”
“Oh, no! I'm sorry.” She knew they’d stepped in as his true and legal guardians from the day his fifteen-year-old mother had given birth to him. She also remembered he’d always thought of Rita as an older sister, rather than his actual mom.
“Thanks.” He looked away for a few moments, wincing a bit, saying nothing. When he turned back to her, the lopsided smile had returned.
Out of the blue, Kalen stopped walking. Before she had time to realize it, he bent toward her, his lips meeting hers. His long hair brushed the side of her face, his mouth warm and moist. The woodsy smell of him teased her nostrils and his goatee scratched her chin, but she didn't care. Something flip-flopped in her chest as she found herself kissing him back. When he finally pulled away, she gasped for air.
“Whoa,” he whispered, his cheeks pinker than before. “You're quite the sweet kisser. I love your hair this way too. Does it take long to straighten it?”
Samantha blushed. “Thanks,” she said, meaning for the remark about her hair instead of her kissing. “About twenty minutes, give or take a few.”
“It suits you. Hey, you don't wear glasses anymore?”
“I wear contacts most of the time now.” Sweet kisser? What did he mean, specifically? Did her lips taste sweet? Like a virgin's? Or was it because she hadn't used her tongue? Did she kiss like an immature little girl?
They walked again, her hand cocooned in his. The draping of coloured lights imbued a soft, romantic atmosphere and the illusion of warmth despite the freezing cold. Another young couple exchanged hellos with them as they passed.
They continued along the winding path amid the naked trees, wrapped in quiet stillness. When they found themselves in an area of the park away from the other strollers, Kalen embraced her, pulling her close to him and clear of the path. The rigid surface of the tree trunk behind her pressed against her back as he leaned in and kissed her again. She tripped and stumbled on a giant root exposed near the trunk in the frozen earth, but regained her footing when he grabbed and righted her by the elbow. She laughed but his mouth covered hers, smothering it.
Samantha pulled away. As excited as his kisses made her feel, she had lost all sensation in her feet. She took turns with them, kicking the ground with her toes to restore circulation.
“Aw, what a jerk I am. You're turning blue with the cold and I'm here trying to make out with you! I'm such a big doofus.”
She giggled through shivering jaws and chattering teeth. “That’s ridiculous. I'm a silly wimp, that's all.”
He took her by the arm again, steering her toward the exit to the street. “Come on. Let's get out of here and go find a couple of mugs of hot chocolate. That should make us fine and toasty.”
As wonderful, warm and delicious it had felt to get lost in his kisses, Samantha complied.
She thought hot steaming beverages were exactly what they needed to banish the wintry chill from their bones― and to slow things down a bit.
Chapter Five
“Pray, dear madam, another glass; it is Christmas time,
it will do you no harm.”
― William Makepeace Thackeray,
The Kickleburrys on the Rhine
“Where are you off to this evening? I thought you might stay home for a change.”
Shaking her head, Samantha shrugged herself into a heavy pullover before donning her coat. “Haven't you got somewhere to be? The Bambury, maybe?” She applied a thick layer of raspberry-flavoured Chapstick to her wind-dried lips while her mother looked on.
“Going out with that boy again, I bet,” Darlene said, hands on hips. “The fourth time this week, is it?”
It had proven impossible to hide her dates with Kalen from her mother, but she still hoped to prevent Veronica from finding out. At least for the time being. “Wh
at odds, Momma? I'm on a break from school. Don't you think I deserve my share of down time, to have some fun? A change of pace from studying my brains out?” She tucked her straightened hair behind her ears.
The sweet smell of something baking wafted in from the kitchen and under Samantha’s nose. Cookies or fruitcake for the holidays, most likely. She hoped whatever it was didn’t turn out to be another one of her mother’s epic culinary disasters. They were practically legendary now.
Darlene smoothed the front of her frilly apron, her forehead wrinkled in disappointment. “I thought you would help me decorate the tree.” She gestured to the forlorn evergreen in its stand in the living room corner and the boxes of decorations piled on top of the coffee table. Cash had brought home the Charlie Brown bough from Churchill Square this afternoon. “And we could wrap presents and drink eggnog.”
“But I've made plans already.” What had gotten into her mother this Christmas? Samantha couldn’t remember her behaving this homespun, this “Suzie Homemaker”-esque, since, well, ever. That had always been Nana's forte, God rest her sweet soul. Samantha would bet money whatever baked in the oven came from a resurrected, tried-and-true recipe of her grandmother's. Darlene even wore Nana’s red vintage Christmas apron with the words Eat, Drink, and Be Merry inscribed over the front in green and white lettering.
As if to confirm her words, the toot of a car horn outside intruded into her thoughts. “I'm off. Don't wait up.” As she ran into the entrance hall and slipped her feet into her Uggs, she sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”
“Oh, damn it!” Her mother ran into the kitchen.
Closing the door behind her, Samantha suffered a stab of guilt. Clearly, Darlene was trying her best to go all out and make things special for the holidays, and she’d probably missed her younger daughter while she’d lived at her dorm in Corner Brook for most of the year. Yes, Samantha could have deferred her plans with Kalen, but she found herself longing to see him again. They were going to be alone tonight at his place at last; his roommates were out of town for the weekend. She made a mental memo to do something fun with her mom before her Christmas break ended.
Calmer Secrets: Calmer Girls 2 (Calmer Girls Series) Page 4