Jude Deveraux, Linda Howard et al - Anthology - Upon A Midnight Clear

by Upon A Midnight Clear (lit)

  As she walked down the hall she continued to think about her father. He had asked her several questions about her life, like if she was married, if she had kids. He asked her about her career and seemed happy that she was doing well.

  Despite good intentions from both of them, they were still a bit awkward and unsure about each other. So much time had passed since they had last spoken that Kim wondered if they would ever be able to completely heal the broken bond between them.

  Leaving thoughts of her father and the hospital behind her, Kim stepped out into the parking lot and saw that white, powdery snow had coated the streets and the cars. It had been so long since she had seen snow that she had forgotten how beautiful it could be. Zipping up her coat as she made her way toward her car, she stopped and glanced around the snow-covered lot. As she rounded the corner of the hospital she saw Tony standing beside his motorcycle, shaking his head…

  "Tony?" she called out as she walked over to him.

  "Hey, Kim," he greeted her. "Don't say it."

  "Say what?"

  "What you're thinking. "This guy should know better than to drive a motorcycle in December.'"

  "Okay," she agreed, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice. "Can I ask you if you want a ride somewhere?"

  He nodded. "If you give me a ride, then you can say it." She smiled as she led him back toward her car.

  "Whoa," he said, sliding inside. "Now this is a car."

  "Same car he drove when I was in high school"

  "Does it bring back memories of driver's ed.?"

  "Almost." She turned the key in the ignition, causing the engine to spin to life. "Where do you live?" she asked, backing the car out of the space.

  "Not very far from here. Off of State Circle. On Michigan Avenue."

  "Apartment?" she asked, effortlessly steering the car through what must have been at least eight inches of powdery snow.

  "Is that where you'd think I'd live?"

  "Well," she said, smiling, "I would've said yes, but I can tell from the way you asked that you live in a house. Dont you?"

  "Very perceptive, Holmes."

  "Thank you, Dr. Watson… or Hoffman, as the case may be." He smiled at her. A friendly smile, she decided. But not an "interested" smile. She made a left-hand turn onto Michigan Avenue.

  "It's this house up here on the right," he said pointing to a two-story colonial. Nice, but not ostentatious. It was a family house, not the type of house she expected him to have. She thought he'd have something a little flashier, showier.

  "It's nice," she said simply.

  "It's a little big for me right now. I haven't done much with it since I bought it"

  She pulled up in front of his house and stopped. Before he could open the door she blurted out, "About earlier. I'm sorry if I seemed a little… forward."

  He put his hand on the door handle and hesitated. "What? I was just about to apologize to you."

  "For what?" she asked, surprised.

  "Well, I… I damned near kissed you on the ice."

  "You did?" she asked hopefully.

  "I, well, do you…" He hesitated for a split second. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee or tea? Actually, I could use your opinion on something. A couple of holiday decorations I bought for the yard."

  Kim checked her watch, playing it cool.

  "And I'd also like you to meet Geena."

  "Geena? "

  "My dog."

  Kim nodded. Of course. His dog. "Um, sure," she said, turning off the car. As soon as she stepped outside she realized that she was going to have to walk through quite a bit of unshoveled snow. Her little flats—or what was left of them—would be finished off. Oh, well, she thought. All for a good cause.

  Kim followed Tony to the house, trying to step into the imprints of his shoes. When he opened the door a golden retriever stood in front of them, wagging her tail in greeting.

  "Hey, sweetie," Tony said, bending down to greet his pet. "This is Kim."

  Kim leaned over and patted the dog. "She's adorable."

  "Thank you," Tony said, glancing at Kim's feet. "Your shoes are soaked," he said.

  "It's no problem," she said, stomping her feet on the welcome mat.

  "Give them to me," he said, adding, "I'll put them in the furnace room to dry."

  She slipped off her shoes.

  "And your socks," he said.

  "My socks?"

  He nodded.

  She slipped off her socks and handed them to him, trying to ignore the chipped red nail polish on her toes.

  He headed toward the furnace room with Geena following behind. As Kim listened to Tony gabbing amiably to Geena, she wandered into the room across from her and turned on the light. The large room was empty with the exception of a black leather couch placed in front of the fireplace.

  "Like what I've done with it?" he said from behind her. She turned around. He was holding a pair of thick wool socks.

  "Impressive."

  "Here are some socks for you to wear while your shoes dry."

  "Thank you." She took the socks and smiled. "Where's Geena?"

  "She's outside. She seems a little tired. I pay the kids in the neighborhood to come over and play with her during the day. She tells me it's been a rough one. I think they wore her out"

  Kim smiled. "So what did you want my opinion on?"

  "These," he said, heading toward the room across from them. He turned on the light. The dining room was empty with the exception of-an inexpensive-looking giant plastic Santa and snowman. Instead of appearing cheery, the Santa had an eerie, almost jack-o-lantern grin. And the snowman's eyes were painted so haphazardly, they appeared crossed.

  All in all, they were two of the ugliest, not to mention scariest, Christmas decorations Kim had ever seen. She glanced at Tony. So much for his art appreciation.

  Tony was looking at her intently, waiting for her opinion.

  "Nice," she said, trying to sound sincere as she bent over to slip on the socks.

  "Do you think they look good together? Or should I put one in the front and one in the back?"

  God forbid they be together. One was bad enough. "Ah, one in the front, one in the back."

  "Done!" he said just as the teakettle whistled. She finished pulling on her socks and followed him into the kitchen.

  "What kind of tea do you like?"

  "Um…" she said, staring at the wallpaper. She guessed that it had been installed by the previous owners. It was bright yellow with clusters of fruit all over.

  "I've got Cinnamon Apple… and Cinnamon Apple. I also have some beer if you're interested."

  "Cinnamon Apple sounds great."

  She glanced at him as he pulled the tea bags out.

  He handed her a cup of tea and then opened the back door, letting Geena back in. Geena walked into the room, gave them both a sniff, and then went to her bed and lay down. "What did I tell you," he said. "She's bushed. C'mon," he said, nodding for Kim to follow him. "Let's go back to the other room. I'll start a fire."

  A fire? A fire was almost synonymous with romance. "I really can't stay that long," she said as she followed him back into the living room.

  "It'll take a minute. If you're going to be indoors in the winter, you should have a fire."

  She sat down on the couch and watched as he crumpled up some newspapers. "How long have you lived here?" she asked, looking around at the empty walls.

  "I don't know. Five years or so."

  "And you don’t have any furniture?"

  He nodded behind him. "I have a couch. Doesn't that qualify?"

  "You know what they say about guys that don't have furniture," she said, sitting on the couch.

  "I have a feeling I'm going to find out."

  "No couch, no commitment."

  "I have a couch," he repeated, lighting the fire.

  "Well, you get the drift. Men who can't commit to furniture are certainly not going to be able to commit to a relationship."

&n
bsp; He stood up and tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "I've got to admit I've never heard that before."

  She shrugged her shoulders as she daintily sipped her tea.

  "Just for your information," he said, leaning on the fireplace mantle, "the reason why I don't have furniture is because I was committed. And when we broke up, she got the furniture."

  "Oh?" she asked as innocently as she could. "Ex-wife?"

  He shook his head as he sat back down next to her. "No. Serious girlfriend. We dated for five years, lived together for one. When we split up, she got the furniture, and I got Geena. Which is exactly what I wanted."

  "Oh," she said again, staring into the fire.

  "Well?" he said, leaning over to look her in the eyes.

  "What?"

  He flashed her a sly grin. "You're going to let it drop? You're not going to ask me why it didn't work out?"

  "Okay, doctor," she said amicably. "Why didn't it work out?"

  He shrugged. "I really don't know," he said thinking. "It was just one of those things. We never fought, we just… drifted apart Actually, there was never that… spark, you know what I mean? I guess I always knew that we would never marry. And so did she."

  She nodded.

  "In retrospect, I think we were both too much alike. There wasn't enough… balance."

  "Was she in medicine?"

  He nodded. "A surgeon. And, just FYI, she was a couple of years older than me." He took a sip of his tea. "So much for your theory of my dating younger women. Although," he said, hesitating, "I have to admit I've been out with a few younger women since my breakup with Robin."

  "Playing the field?"

  "Not really. I just… well, my time is pretty valuable to me. I don't have much of it. And I've decided not to keep seeing a woman when I know we're not right for each other. I learned that lesson."

  Kim nodded. She understood. After all, she felt the same way—which unfortunately, meant that she usually ended up spending the holidays by herself—or worse, sitting across from a blind date.

  "What about you?" he asked. "Any marriages in your past? Close calls?"

  She shook her head and furrowed her brow, thinking. "I was serious with someone earlier this year, but it didn't work out"

  "Too bad."

  She shook her head. "Well, not really serious. I guess I should qualify by saying serious for me, which is probably casual for you… am I making sense?"

  "How many dates?"

  "Dates? I don't know. A lot."

  "Let me ask you this: Did he ask you out for Saturday night or was it just assumed you were doing something?"

  "Assumed."

  "Sounds pretty serious."

  Kim laughed.

  At just that moment, Geena walked into the room and let out a deep bark, causing them both to jump. Tony laughed and shook his head. "Sometimes she just does that. For no reasom"

  Kim smiled at him.

  "What do you think of dogs?" he asked.

  "Do you mean, do I like them? Or what does it mean when a guy has a dog?"

  "Both."

  "Yes, I like them and yes, it's a very good sign. About commitment," she added quickly. "Helps to make up for the lack of furniture."

  Tony nodded and grinned. He shook his head as if in admiration. "You know, I'm getting the impression that you have a wild, stubborn streak yourself."

  Kim laughed. "I think you're right—on one account, at least. But I'm definitely not wild. I'm the type of girl who goes to bed at nine o'clock."

  "Nine o'clock sharp?"

  "Every night. And you?"

  "I burn the midnight oil"

  "See? Wild man."

  "Yeah. I'm usually out escorting college girls around town or doing transplants," he joked. "I alternate nights." He paused, looking at her as if he was deciding on something. "You know, Kim," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I really didn't ask you in to get your opinion on those plastic… things," he said, nodding toward the dining room where the snowman and Santa were stored. "They're a joke present for one of the administrators at the hospital."

  Kim started to smile.

  "But I'll have you know, I was impressed by how… delicate you were about your disapproval."

  "So," she said carefully. "Why did you ask me in?"

  He glanced back at the fire. "I guess I just want to get to know you better. Most of the people… or rather women… that I meet are somehow connected to the hospital. It's not often I get to spend time with an artist."

  She nodded. "So you like my profession."

  He shook his head. "I like you," he said softly. He sighed. "I just… well, it's a little awkward. The fact that you're Harold Risson's daughter."

  "I'm of age," she volunteered. "Barely, of course."

  "I know, but it could still be awkward."

  She shrugged. "As you're aware, he and I have had our differences." She hesitated as she put down her teacup. "I've been making up my own mind for years."

  Tony turned toward her and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. "There's that wild streak again."

  She felt a tingling down her spine. He had a gaze that made her want to melt into his leather bachelor-pad sofa. Suddenly, Tony leaned forward and kissed her. Kim kissed him back, welcoming his tongue as it slid inside her mouth. But when he gently began to push her back on the couch, she broke away.

  "What is it?" he asked quietly.

  "I… I'm not sure I'm ready for this… for us," she stammered. "Not that we're an us, or anything," she added quickly. She didn't want him to think that she was assuming they were about to begin a relationship. For all she knew, he was interested in a one-night stand. "It's just that I've got a lot on my plate right now… with my dad and everything. I'm not going to be in town that long, and I'm not looking for a fling. I just…"

  He put his index finger to her lips. "It's all right," he whispered, pulling her in to him. "You should know that if I was looking for a fling, I wouldn't choose Harold Risson's daughter." That's right, he realized. He wouldn't. So what was he doing here with her if he wasn't looking for just a casual friendship? Perhaps, just perhaps, it was because he knew that Kim Risson was special.

  Tony smiled sweetly and slowly pulled away from her. "I know you've been through a lot recently. We'll take it as slow as you want. There's no rush."

  Except for the fact that she planned on heading back to Florida as soon as her father left the hospital Their time was limited, and they both knew it. Tony kissed her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her. "I just like being with you." He leaned over and looked into her eyes. "Hey," he whispered in her ear. "Why do you look so sad?"

  She sighed. "I don't know. The holidays always get me down, and with all that's happened in the past few weeks…"

  "This Christmas will be better," he said, hugging her close. "I just have a feeling."

  Kim was practically humming as she walked down the hospital corridor. She felt like a teenager in love. She glanced at the Christmas tree some of the hospital staff were decorating in the waiting room. Maybe her mother had been right. Maybe this was a magical season.

  It had certainly been a magical night. She and Tony had talked for hours before finally drifting off to sleep in each other's arms. She had woken at four, found her shoes and socks, given Geena a pat good-bye, and slipped out without waking Tony.

  After knocking on her father's door, she quietly walked into his room. He was sitting in bed and smiled when he saw her. "Kim," he said.

  "Hi, Dad." She went over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You seem like you're feeling better."

  He nodded. "They're moving me out of critical care today."

  "That's wonderful," Kim said.

  He smiled. "Kim," he began. "I've been thinking. I… well, I feel like I've been given another chance. Another chance to make things right again."

  Kim nodded.

  "I'm sorry for never writing you back. Those letters that you sent me… they meant a lot to me," he
said, struggling with every word. "I just couldn't bring myself to write back to you. If I did, our separation would become real. Instead, I made myself believe that it was just like when you wrote me from camp. That I'd see you again before I even got a chance to write you…"

  "Oh, Dad," Kim said sadly, keeping an eye on the EKG machine. The last thing she wanted was to upset him. "We both made mistakes. I never really understood before what stress you were under… all the pressures from your job. I know it wasn't easy for you. I just… well, I was a child. All I knew was that my father wasn't around. I didn't—I couldn't understand why. But I do now," she said, thinking about the little girl who had died. The little girl he had tried to save.

  "I want you to know… I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you. But I never stopped caring about you."

  She nodded, touched by the sincerity in his eyes. She blinked back tears as she said, "I know that, Dad."

  He nodded, blinking back tears himself. "I was sorry to hear about your mother."

  Kim nodded.

  "I loved her. I know she didn't think so, but I did. I just… I had a hard time showing it."

  Kim glanced at the floor. She wasn't ready to discuss her mother with him.

  "When you and your mother left, a part of me died. I… I couldn't deal with it…" He looked at her and wiped away a tear.

  She smiled weakly and gave his hand a squeeze.

  Harold swallowed. As if embarrassed by his display of emotion, he shook his head slightly as he glanced at the dock. Suddenly he barked out, "Oh, for Pete's sake."

  "What?" Kim asked, taken aback.

  "Oh, Tony Hoffman was supposed to come here this morning at eight," he said, as if disgusted.

  Kim checked the clock. It was already eight-thirty. Kim felt slightly guilty, realizing that there had not been an alarm clock in the living room. She wondered if he was still asleep on the couch.

  "There's no excuse for this behavior. As usual, he's testing me. He's trying to annoy me."

  "Calm down, dad," she said, disturbed by his vehement reaction. "I'm sure he's not trying to annoy you. He just saved your life. Why would he want to upset you?"

  "It's a power play. These young, cocky surgeons are all alike. Tony is a decent surgeon, but he knows it. He's a wild card, and that's going to cost him some advancements around here." Her father glanced at her. "Have you met him yet?"