by Misty Simon
“Oh, um, hi, Ivy. And Ben, is it?” She remained in the doorway in her slippers and robe with her hair sticking up all over her head.
I hoped she’d invite us in sometime soon. Nice, lovely warm air wafted out at me, and I wanted more of it. Now. I made a move to walk in, and she blocked me. Bye-bye, nice warm air. I thought we were getting a mighty cold shoulder from someone who had cried all over my sweater the other day.
“Yes, this is Ben,” I said, moving to the other side to see if I could get through there. She sidestepped with me, blocking me again. Crap. Why was she so intent on us not entering her house? Not very hospitable of her, if you asked me.
“What can I do for you two?”
You could let us in, I thought, and made one more attempt to scoot around her. Ben held me back this time and lightly shook his head when she wasn’t looking. He mouthed, “Don’t,” and I scowled at him before whipping back to Chrissie with a smile plastered on my face.
“We were just in the area and wanted to make sure you were all right after your stop in the shop.” I put a mittened hand on her arm and gave her my best worried-friend look.
“I’m fine. Thank you for being concerned.” She started to swing the door shut.
I wedged my foot in front of the door like I always saw people do on TV. It hurt a lot more than I thought it would when we played tug-of-door. As we did so, a man-shaped shadow flickered behind her, drawing my gaze. She saw my eyes focus on something behind her and shut the door a little more, pushing my foot with it.
“Actually, Ivy had something to tell you about a package she received.”
“Oh, yes, right. The package. I got a package in the mail from your company, but I didn’t order anything.” I smiled at her. “Would you mind if we came inside for a minute?” I did the fakey laugh thing. “It’s awfully cold out here.”
“Oh, you know what, Ivy, you can keep whatever you got in the mail. It’s not a big deal. I um, have something to do.” Or someone, I thought, seeing the shadow again. “So I have to go. But thanks again for stopping by and checking up on me. It’s nice to have concerned friends.” With that, she knocked my foot over the threshold and slammed the door before I could make a peep.
“What was that all about?” Ben asked.
“I’m pretty sure she has someone in there with her. She looked like she just rolled out of bed, and maybe she did. Maybe she was riding the baloney pony and we interrupted. She took long enough to answer the door, and then she kept us out of the house. Maybe that’s the answer.”
Ben put his arm around me and started walking back to his car. “I guess it’s possible.”
I wasn’t necessarily convinced either, but couldn’t think of a better excuse.
****
“Get out! Chrissie was getting some action and answered the door anyway?” Bella sat back on her couch.
I plopped down onto the big comfy chair, my rear end fitting nicely into the groove I’d worn into the cushion over the last few days. “As far as I know. I couldn’t see much, but it looked like some kind of manly shadow showed up on the wall a couple of times while we were there.”
“Do you have any idea who the shadow could have been?”
“No, but it looked vaguely familiar. I haven’t seen her around town much, and when I do she’s always alone. It was the weirdest thing—she kept telling me to keep the stuff I got in the mail. Why didn’t she want it back?”
I pulled a pillow to my stomach and hugged it. Bella kept her house warm, but I was still chilled from standing outside on Chrissie’s stoop.
“Maybe she thinks you already used it.” She smirked, and I launched the pillow at her.
“Anyway, I can’t give it back. The police have it now.” We sat in silence for a little while, watching the flames dance in her fireplace. I sipped from the glass of wine in my hand, listening to the wind rattle the windows.
“We’re supposed to get snow tonight,” she said. “Are you ready?”
Panic welled in my chest. “Ready? Is there something I need to do before it snows?” So many little rules applied to this new life of mine. I felt unprepared for nearly everything.
“Calm down, Ivy. There’s nothing specific you have to do. I only meant are you ready to brave your first Virginia winter? The last few years we’ve had more snow than I can remember in the past. You’ll need to bundle up every day until you get used to the cold.”
I’d bought every snow-type article of clothing I could think of, so I settled down. “How many inches are they talking?”
“Only about two.”
Those were famous last words as I trudged into my house later, the wind biting into my coat and through my knit cap. Snow swirled around me, taking my breath away and chilling me to the bone.
From inside the warmth of Bella’s house it had looked so pretty, the flakes falling softly through the beam of the streetlights. It was like a complicated dance performed on the stage of the world. Little gusts of wind would whip the fallen snow from the ground and pirouette it inches above the ground before it settled again. Like I said, beautiful from inside.
Then I stepped outside and thought I’d never draw breath into my icicled lungs again. The air cut its way down my throat and my nose froze in seconds.
Driving in it may not have been the smartest idea, but Bella assured me I could make it home in my front-wheel-drive car. Fortunately, I did make it in one piece. What I wouldn’t have given for an attached garage, though, when I stepped out on my driveway. “Cold” didn’t begin to do it justice.
I ran to the front door and fumbled the keys in my mittened hands. Crap. Finally, I jabbed the key into the lock and blew into the house, followed by a gust of wind.
My dad sat in the living room, warm and toasty with a steaming mug of something. “Can you get me some of what you’re having?” I asked through chattering teeth.
“Sure.” He rose from his chair and gave me a wide berth. I could feel the cold radiating from my body, so I didn’t blame him.
“I’m going to go change. I’ll be right back.”
“Hot chocolate will be waiting for you when you’re ready.” He said it over his shoulder on the way to the kitchen.
Hustling into my room, I started undressing as quickly as I could. Off came the jacket, and the fleecy coat under it joined the pile on the bed. I removed my gloves, scarf, hat, duck boots, and two pairs of socks. Next went the corduroy pants, the sweat pants, sweater, and sweatshirt.
I kept on my thermals. Thankfully, they were still dry, along with the tight leggings underneath. I shed so many layers I was exhausted when I climbed into my pjs and pulled my thick robe around me. I stepped into my bootie slippers with the fur lining.
Ready, I trotted back into the living room to get my blood up, then plopped down onto a chair and took the steaming mug from my dad. Ah, blessed warmth on my poor frozen fingers. I’d take a bath in the stuff if I thought I could get away with it. I’d bet Ben would go for that. I stopped the train of delectable visions there. It wouldn’t do to overheat myself in front of my father.
“So,” I said, blowing on the hot chocolate and waiting to take my first sip without scalding my tongue. “What did you do today?”
He sat back, sipping his cocoa. “Well, let’s see. I talked to the police and was updated on their progress with Tarrin’s murder, went over and talked to Chad at the jail, and called the estate sale people.” The satisfied smile on his lips did not go over well with me.
“You...you...what?”
“Has snow gotten into your ears, Ivy? What part didn’t you comprehend?”
“But...” I sputtered, which is never attractive. “How did you do all that today?”
“Comes from having an in. Martha went with me, and it’s amazing what doors she can open. She’s amazing.”
Well, damn. Why wasn’t Ben opening all those doors for me? And here I’d thought I’d be tripping over my father at every turn. Why hadn’t Martha told me earlier when I’d seen
her? “I’ll bite, then. What did you find out?”
He cleared his throat and avoided my eyes. “Nothing, really. Martha opened the doors, but apparently I was unable to ask the right questions. I didn’t get anything new.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” I said, as my world righted itself again. I was a little depressed to be given hope and then have it taken away, but another part of me rejoiced over his lack of info. I’d be pissed if he managed to figure everything out in one swift move while I continued to fumble around. “Did the police have anything new to say?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, they said for me to butt out and they would handle things. But they made sure to say thanks so much for my concern.”
“Oh, that’s nothing new. They tell me the same thing every time I come within spitting distance of them. Don’t take it personally, and especially don’t take it literally. We’re going to figure this whole thing out soon; I can feel it in my bones. Just you wait and see.”
Sometimes I show a distinct lack of clairvoyance.
Chapter Twenty-Five
With all the work we’d been doing, Bella’s party snuck up on me. I sent off a couple of quick emails before getting myself together as the sauciest wench on the seven seas.
I had ample cleavage at my disposal, so I showcased the girls in a low-cut peasant blouse tucked into a black corset and an ankle-length forest green linen skirt. I was going to go with a short skirt, but these legs were not made for freezing. Instead, the long skirt had a slit, which pretty much started at my panty line, and I wore fishnet stockings underneath. I’d have worn long johns if I could have gotten away with it. The snow kept on coming, but none of it was really sticking past the morning. Fine by me.
I stepped into my very unfashionable duck boots and slipped my arms into a black, puffy, down-filled jacket. I tucked my bag of cosmetics and my fancy high-heeled shoes under my arm. The plan was to arrive early at Bella’s and finish getting ready there.
I waved goodbye to my father, who was coming to the party later with Martha, and closed the door behind me. More flakes drifted down as I watched from the relative safety of my oversized hood, which always made me feel like I was peeking out of a cave. I discovered, too, that I sounded funny when I talked with it up—my voice close and odd.
I’d already started my car earlier, so at least I had warmth. I flipped down my hood because I could barely see anything with it on. I was so excited about the party I almost started my car again, but stopped myself seconds before grinding the engine.
“Get a grip,” I said out loud, and put the car into drive. I got there fast and without incident—phew! This driving in snow thing was something else, but I went slowly and made it fine. Light spilled from the front windows of the little cottage nestled behind the dormant flowerbeds and bushes. Bella’s menagerie of lawn ornaments carried a light blanketing of snow and looked pretty. Stepping out of the car, I could hear music muffled by the house and snow. We were going to have a blast tonight.
Dave Matthews was singing about dreaming trees when I waltzed into the house, prepared to help. The living room was festooned in red and green ribbons with silver accents. Christmas lights twinkled from all corners where Bella had draped them from the ceiling. All the archways from room to room had balls of mistletoe hanging. I made a mental note to get Ben under each and every one of them before the night was through.
I found Bella in the kitchen, chopping walnuts and spreading them on some kind of ball thing I supposed was food. “What the hell is that?” I yelled over the music.
“What?” She cocked her head to the side and raised her elbow to indicate she couldn’t hear me because her hands were full of...well, whatever the stuff on the Christmassy plate was.
The remote for the stereo rested on the table, so I picked it up and aimed it into the next room. Once the volume approached something close to normal, I asked my question again.
“It’s called a cheese ball. Haven’t you ever seen one?”
I couldn’t say I had, but it looked fascinating—not edible, necessarily, but fascinating. “Alrighty then. So what can I help with?”
What followed was a blur of Christmas napkins, party snacks, candy, china plates, and cookies (not man parts this time, thankfully). Bella ran to change and fix her hair while I made one last round to ensure everything was ready. Perfect.
Not much later, Bella came out of her room in her expensive female pirate outfit she’d finally roped me into ordering for her. Affixing a second gold hoop to her ear, she straightened and twirled.
“Very nice,” I said to her posturing.
“Thanks, you look great, too. Sorry I forgot to tell you earlier.”
“No problem. I’m going to finish up my makeup now that everything’s done. Are you going to be okay without my help for about ten minutes? I shouldn’t be much longer, I don’t have much to do.”
“Sure, go ahead. Everything looks fantastic, Ivy. Thank you so much for your help. I never could have pulled this off by myself.” She pressed a hand to the suede vest she wore over a cream-colored low-cut linen blouse. “God, I hope this party goes better than the last one,” she said as the doorbell rang.
Me, too. I could do without another corpse.
****
The party was in full swing. Couples danced on the small area rug in Bella’s living room. Others, single and not, congregated in the kitchen and small dining room Bella had converted into a formal sitting room. Lights twinkled merrily on the three-foot tree she’d stood in the front window, and carols played continuously on the stereo. There weren’t a lot of people, but it was a good turnout. Most were here to celebrate the season, but I did catch a few people wandering into the spare bedroom and heard some speculation about the murder. These I ushered back into the party as tactfully as I could. I didn’t want anything to mar this get-together for Bella.
Santa came in around nine and delighted everyone by asking all the adults to sit on his lap and tell him their Christmas wish and what they wanted on the big day. Then everyone laughed when they all got presents to open, along with a multi-colored candy cane. I’d helped Bella pick out the gifts and enjoyed when everyone opened their very own personal Christmas coloring and sticker book, complete with crayons. It was a great gag, and people loved them.
I got an extra pat on the rear from our dear frisky Santa. He whispered things in my ear that should have earned him a permanent place on the real Santa’s naughty list, and definitely elevated him on my very good one.
“Oh, Santa, you naughty boy.”
“Ho, ho, ho. I do try.”
“I hope that wasn’t a commentary of what you think my place in your life is.” I pinched his cheek and he copped a quick feel.
“Not at all, Ivy.” He got serious, his eyes sobering above his snowy white beard. “I know this isn’t the perfect place, but I have to tell you something.”
I had been last in line for Santa, so no one waited behind me. I peered into those green, green eyes and felt panic crawling up from my stomach. I was almost afraid to ask what exactly he wanted to say to me. It didn’t look bad, but it did look heavy. Mentally bracing myself, I asked, “What?”
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “Um.” He cleared it again.
“Come on, it can’t be too bad, right? We’re not fighting or anything. What do you have to tell me?” His reticence (nice) was making me calmer and bolder. Plus, I wanted my own coloring book, so I needed him to hurry it along and get to the gift-giving part.
“No, it’s not bad.” He pulled his red velvet collar from his neck in a classic nervous-guy gesture. “I’ve been trying to tell you for a few days, but it seems things keep getting in the way. I’m going to take the time now while nothing else is going on.”
“Nothing else except a holiday party.” I caressed the side of his face, what I could reach, anyway, over the beard. The panic settled. Whatever it was, if it made him this nervous, even while I sat on his lap, it could only be good for me.
> “We’ve been together for only a short time, but I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he said.
“That’s true, it does seem like we’ve been together for a while. It must have something to do with all the excitement and what all we’ve been through. But you know, I think it can be a good thing. I’ve seen—and defeated—you at your most arrogant. We’ve yelled at each other, made up, dealt with personal quirks. I’d say we’ve covered several of the nine yards.” I smiled at him, hoping I wasn’t putting his leg asleep with my ample rear end but not wanting to move yet. “Now we’re lovers, and I know you even better, especially the little mole you have on your—”
He cut in by clearing his throat one more time before I could finish. “Yes, right, so you’re babbling, and I seem to have developed some horrible throat congestion thing. Before you start talking again, I’m simply going to tell you.” He paused. I opened my mouth to say something else, I didn’t know what, but it flew right out of my head when he blurted, “I love you.”
Wow. Wowwy, wowwy, wowzers. I sat, stunned, for a second, absorbing what he said, letting it curl around my heart and fill my head. Other than my dad and brothers-in-law, I’d never had a man tell me he loved me before—at least not like this. This was big, this was huge, this was absolutely magnificent! I couldn’t wait to give the words back to him and make him feel the same way.
But I must have been silent too long because he started rambling. “I didn’t tell you to scare you, or make you say it back to me. I wanted to let you know, though. I’ve been thinking about it for days. And it’s not just the sex, however wonderful it is. I felt this way about you before. I just didn’t know how to tell you, or if you would freak out. You could say something any time now.”
I put my finger against his lips to stop him. “You, Ben Fallon, are the most magnificent, lovely, wonderful man in the whole world. I love you, too, and if you don’t kiss me within the next three seconds, I’ll have to smack—”
He shut me up this time, claiming my lips in a way I wanted him to claim my body. He’d already claimed my heart.