A Proposal for Christmas: State SecretsThe Five Days of Christmas

by Linda Lael Miller

  “Toby, maybe we shouldn’t...” She hesitated when they reached the main door of the exclusive building. There was a doorman on duty, perhaps he wouldn’t even let them pass.

  “Come on, Mom,” Toby insisted, dragging her up to the entrance.

  As the doorman looked her over, Holly was painfully conscious of her battered blue jeans, her T-shirt and Windbreaker, her breeze-tumbled hair.

  “May I help you?” asked the sentinel, his deep, rumbling voice ringing with genteel authority.

  “My name is Holly Llewellyn and this is—”

  The doorman’s round face broke into a smile. “Go right up, Ms. Llewellyn. I can’t say whether or not Mr. Goddard is at home, but I have orders to admit you at any time.”

  Holly was relieved; inwardly, she realized, she had been expecting to be turned away. Things were shaky between her and David, and there was always the possibility that he had decided their relationship wasn’t worth the trouble.

  She and Toby crossed the sumptuous, plant-filled lobby. There were two sets of elevators.

  “What floor does David live on?” Toby queried when they were inside one of the elevators, his hand poised to punch the proper button.

  “Seven,” Holly answered immediately, then bit her lower lip. Her eagerness was showing, and she had to get it under control. Letting David Goddard see how easily he could sway her would be foolish.

  They arrived on the seventh floor in a whisk and stepped out into a spacious entryway, decorated, like the lobby, with plants.

  David’s condominium apparently took up the entire floor, for there was only one door in sight. Holly’s hand trembled a little as she reached out to ring the bell. She drew a deep breath and summoned up a brave smile just as the door swung open.

  A lovely woman wearing a colorful robe answered the door. “Yes?”

  Holly was speechless, her imagination running away from her. Toby, on the other hand, had the presence of mind to ask ingenuously, “Is this where David Goddard lives?”

  Wide brown eyes swept over Holly’s Saturday-in-the-park clothes. “Yes, it is. I’m afraid David isn’t home right now, though.”

  Holly, having surrendered the airplane to Toby, wedged her hands into the pockets of her Windbreaker. A woman—good God, a woman. She tried not to panic or jump to conclusions, but her emotions were so raw where David was concerned that she had almost no control over them. “Are you his sister?” she dared to ask.

  The woman laughed, running one hand through her soft brown hair. “Good heavens, no. I’m his wife.”

  “His wife?” Toby echoed, confused.

  Holly was outwardly calm. She squared her shoulders, caught Toby’s free hand in her own and turned back toward the elevator. Over one shoulder, she said, “I’m sorry we bothered you.”

  “No problem,” Mrs. David Goddard responded lightly, with a shrug of her silk-clad shoulders. “Shall I tell David you were here?”

  Holly debated with herself for a moment, gnawing at her lower lip. “No,” she said finally. “Don’t tell him anything.”

  The concern in Toby’s upturned face wrenched at Holly’s heart. He was too young to understand this sort of betrayal, and she wondered how she would explain it all to him.

  “I didn’t get your names!” sang out the remarkably calm wife of the man Holly loved as the doors were closing.

  “Toby and Holly!” the little boy shouted just before the doors swept shut.

  Holly let go of her nephew’s hand and sagged against the elevator wall, her hands gripping the polished brass railing, her eyes squeezed closed against tears of rage and hurt.

  “What’s-a-matter, Mom?” Toby wanted to know.

  Holly dragged in a steadying breath and lifted her chin. “Nothing, Tobe. Nothing at all. Let’s go back to the park and fly your plane, okay?”

  “Okay,” Toby agreed somewhat sadly. “But I wanted David to be with us.”

  “So did I,” Holly replied with despairing dignity. “But sometimes things just don’t turn out the way we hope they will.”

  Somehow, Holly got through the rest of that day, watching Toby’s plane buzz in wide circles against a hurtfully blue sky, riding the fabled antique carousel, even choking down a hot dog. It was much later, when Toby had reluctantly taken his bath and tumbled into bed, that she sank into the chair at her desk in the kitchen, lowered her head to her arms and wept.

  Being fooled once was bad enough; being fooled twice was devastating. Holly vowed that this was the last time, the very last time, that she would ever cry over David Goddard and his lies.

  * * *

  The trip across country had been a grueling one, and David was tired as he unlocked the door of his new condominium. He asked only one thing of the mysterious forces guiding the lives of mere mortals: that Marleen’s failure to answer his telephone for the last week and a half meant that she was gone.

  The movers had arrived ahead of him, and the furniture and crates they’d delivered looked ghostly in the dim light straying in through the open drapes. He paused a moment before flipping on the lights.

  “Marleen?”

  No answer. David shrugged out of his rumpled overcoat and flung aside the one suitcase he’d bothered to take with him. There is a God, he thought.

  He checked the bedroom, which was full of boxes containing clothes and books, bed linens and towels. The bed had been set up, and he was grateful for that—now he wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor or the couch.

  “Marleen?” he ventured again. And that was when he saw the note affixed to the headboard of his bed with a piece of tape.

  He snatched it into one hand, a peculiar sort of dread niggling in the pit of his stomach. “Darling,” Marleen had written in a hand that resembled the efforts of one of her beloved apes. “I’ve gone back to my work. Thanks for the check and your backhanded hospitality. By the way, Holly came by. Is she your new love? I think she was surprised to find me here, and she said not to tell you that she stopped in. Ciao, Marleen.”

  David crumpled the note into a ball and flung it away on the strength of a growled curse. What Holly must have thought, encountering Marleen, of all people, was all too obvious.

  He picked up the trail of the phone cord and followed it until he found the telephone beneath a pile of rumpled bath towels. Marleen had always been a slob. Holly’s number leaped to his mind, but his finger hesitated over the buttons. It was late and this debacle called for more delicate handling than a midnight telephone call. Flowers, at the least, and some very fast talking.

  David stiffened as he drew his hand back from the telephone. Dammit, why was he ready to grovel and beg when he hadn’t done anything wrong? Whatever impression Marleen might have given—and he suspected that she had played the moment for every possible ounce of drama—the fact remained that he wasn’t involved with her and hadn’t been in years. Holly was a rational person and she would understand. She had to understand.

  Too exhausted to think about the situation further, David staggered into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower, before making his way back to the bed. Marleen hadn’t bothered to make it up again before she left, but he didn’t care. He flung back the comforter and collapsed, falling asleep within seconds.

  The next day was Saturday, and he awakened late. Standing at the windowed wall of his kitchen, he looked out over Riverfront Park, a cup of coffee in his hand, pondering the best way to approach Holly.

  The weather was cold and sunny and there were a number of inveterate outdoor people in the park. He could see the carousel turning, a colorful blur inside its glass walls, and the sight uplifted him.

  Momentarily, his eyes were drawn back to a small figure dashing in mad circles on the grass. David squinted and bent forward, trying to see. He couldn’t so he opened a sliding door and went out onto the balcony surrounding his condo on all sides, resting his arms against the wrought-iron railing.

  With the small person was a slightly larger one. One with golden honey hair th
at shimmered in the sunshine of a false spring.

  David grinned, went back inside, shutting the door behind him, and set his coffee cup aside with a resolute thump. He rummaged through boxes in the recreation room until he found his own model airplane, then put on a dark blue Windbreaker and went out.

  He sprinted across the park until he was close enough to hear the buzz of Toby’s plane, close enough to see them both. Toby was watching, his face upturned and bright with delight, while Holly skillfully executed swoops and dips and sharp turns with the radio-controlled toy.

  * * *

  Holly became aware of his presence by some sixth sense and turned to confirm the dizzying fact with her eyes. David was standing not twenty yards away, holding his airplane in his hands, watching her and Toby.

  He looked fantastic in his jeans, navy blue pullover and Windbreaker, but Holly wasn’t going to let things like that sidetrack her. Not this time. Gritting her teeth, she worked the handset, guiding her airplane in his direction in a wide sweep. “Bombs away,” she whispered with evil relish as she plunged the Lilliputian craft into a dive directed straight at his head. “Mom!” Toby bellowed, appalled.

  David crouched, just barely escaping the airplane; it buzzed into another turn and came back toward him.

  “Mom, don’t!” Toby shrieked. “Don’t! You’ll hurt him.”

  “I want to hurt him,” Holly replied grimly as David fell facedown in the snow-laced ground to avoid having a miniature Cessna embedded in his back. “Oh, boy, do I want to hurt him.”

  “Will you stop it!” David roared. Holly noted with satisfaction that the man had no sense of humor. “You’re going to kill me!”

  Holly brought the plane down again, letting it pass within inches of David’s head. Toby, his face flushed with righteous indignation—he’d had lecture after lecture on how to operate that airplane safely—wrenched the controls out of her hands and guided the plane in for a smooth landing.

  David sprang to his feet, his eyes snapping, a white line of annoyance edging his jaw. “If you’re not happy to see me,” he hissed, “just say so!”

  Toby was looking frantically from one adult to the other, tears shimmering in his eyes, the handset shaking in his hands. “That was a crazy thing to do, Mom!” he shouted.

  Looking down at him, Holly softened.

  “You’re damned right it was!” yelled David.

  Holly shifted her gaze from Toby to David, piercing him with it. And then she turned on her heel and stomped away, toward the carousel, Toby scrambling along beside her like a puppy.

  David halted her progress from behind, catching her elbow in his grasp and handing his airplane to Toby in one simultaneous motion. “If this wasn’t a public place, lady, I would turn you over my knee,” he said through his teeth.

  Holly wrenched her arm free. “Stay away from me, you creep!”

  “Mom!” Toby wailed, mortified.

  She plunged one hand into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a string of tickets. “Here!” she said to her nephew, with uncommon impatience. “Go and ride the carousel!”

  Toby looked uncertain, his china-blue eyes again darting from Holly’s face to David’s.

  “Go ahead, slugger,” David urged in a gruff undertone, taking both toy planes from the little boy’s arms. “Everything is going to be all right.”

  After one more glance at Holly, one so wary and concerned that it made her wince inwardly, Toby bounded off to enter the round building housing the carousel. The music of the calliope seemed ludicrous, in light of the situation.

  His jaw still working with suppressed outrage, David set the planes aside and lifted his hands to his hips, watching Holly, his gaze burning into her face and finally forcing her to lift furious, tear-blurred eyes.

  “What did Marleen tell you?” he asked when he had her full attention.

  Holly shrugged, though she was on the verge of flinging herself at David Goddard kicking and scratching and hissing like a she-cat. Her whole body quivered with the need to attack, to hurt. “Only that she is your wife,” she said, marveling at the calmness of her voice. She had expected the words to come out as a shriek.

  “And you immediately decided that I had lied to you again,” David muttered. Damn him, he didn’t look the least bit apologetic; instead, he appeared angry enough to forget that this was a public place and make good on the threat he had issued earlier.

  Some of Holly’s indignation faded away, driving a slow, pink blush up over her cheeks. “When presented with the evidence, I naturally—”

  “You naturally found me guilty!”

  Holly retreated a step. “She said—”

  “I can imagine what she said! The truth is that we’ve been divorced for years, just like I told you before!”

  People were beginning to stare and the calliope music went merrily on. Holly was getting a headache. “She had on a bathrobe. She was in your apartment—”

  “And I was on my way to Washington,” David broke in again, more calmly this time, though his tone sliced deep.

  Holly was about to start believing him again and she’d sworn she would never do that. She whirled away, stomped into the carousel building and bought herself a ticket. When the ride stopped, she climbed onto a ferocious-looking tiger, spotting Toby ahead on a white horse.

  The carousel began to turn, going faster and faster. Holly was dizzy and ill all of a sudden, and she clasped the pole in front of her with both hands. When she opened her squeezed-shut eyes, David was perched, sidesaddle, on the black panther beside her, his chin propped in his hands.

  Holly held on tighter, feeling the color drain from her face. “I don’t think I...feel very well...” she managed to say.

  David’s face gentled, his eyes scanning her face. She could barely hear him over the shrill piping of the calliope. “Do you want me to tell them to stop this thing?”

  Holly shook her head, then rested it against the pole she was still holding with a death grip. What was wrong with her? She had ridden this carousel a thousand and one times. Though it moved rapidly, it was not the sort of ride that could bring her breakfast burning up into her throat.

  Finally, mercifully, the carousel stopped turning. Holly was trembling as David pried her hands loose from the pole and lifted her down. She might have stumbled, but he held her firmly, prepared to lift her into his arms and carry her, if necessary. She didn’t dare let that happen.

  Outside, she drew in fresh air in greedy gasps, praying that she wouldn’t disgrace Toby by throwing up in public.

  David ushered her to a brightly painted bench, sat her down and went off, returning within moments with a glass of water from a concession wagon several yards away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, bracing one foot against the bench and watching her as she sipped the water, his arms folded across his chest.

  “I don’t...know,” Holly confessed quite honestly. “I must have the flu or something.”

  “Or something,” David muttered, and he sounded so wistful that Holly’s eyes shot to his face.

  Toby, evidently worried about Holly, had gotten off the carousel and gone to fetch the airplanes and their handsets. He stood a little way apart, watching with large, saucerlike eyes.

  “Are you sick again, Mom?” he asked.

  “Again?” David demanded, leaning forward slightly.

  Toby came a few steps closer, still a bit wary of these two strange adults. “Mom’s been getting sick a lot lately. I want her to go to the doctor.”

  “So do I,” David said quietly. “Can you walk now, Holly, or shall I carry you?”

  Holly stood up determinedly and nearly sank to the bench again, she was so dizzy. Her stomach was doing leaps inside her. How on earth was she going to drive home in this condition?

  David smiled reassuringly at Toby, ruffling his hair, and then casually lifted Holly off her feet, holding her against his chest like a child. She was too queasy to resist.

  “My car is...over the
re...” she offered.

  “You’re in no shape to drive,” David said flatly, looking down at Toby. “Can you manage the planes, slugger?”

  Toby swelled with confidence, reassured by David’s calm manner. “Sure I can. Can you manage Mom?”

  David threw back his head and laughed and Holly was soothed by the scent of his hair and skin, and by the strength of him. “I don’t think anybody can manage your mom,” he answered presently, “but I mean to try.”

  “Put me down,” Holly said.

  “No way,” came the implacable answer. “You’re going to my place and you’ll take it easy until you feel better.”

  “I can walk!”

  “I know, but I like carrying you.”

  “David, you are making a scene! Now, put me down this minute!”

  David was striding off toward the condominiums, his hold on Holly as firm as ever. “You know something, woman?” he teased, his breath whispering through her hair. “You’re getting completely out of line here. You need someone to take a firm hand—”

  Holly stiffened again and made a strangled sound of furious protest. “I don’t need anything of the sort!” she blustered. “I’m a grown woman, perfectly capable—”

  David lowered his voice, even though Toby was already bounding ahead, out of earshot, eager to see the place where his hero lived. “We both know what you need, don’t we?”

  The queasiness had passed and Holly was not only able to walk on her own, she was desperate for it. “Damn you, David,” she hissed in a scathing undertone, “you promised!”

  He sighed and set her on her feet. “So I did,” he said. Knowing that she wasn’t going to bolt without Toby, he slowed his strides to stay in step with her. “Holly, could you be pregnant?”

  Pregnant! Holly simmered, clenching her fists at her sides. This man was just full of heartening suggestions! But as she walked, she did some mental counting and subsequently felt the warmth seeping out of her face to pool in a hot puddle in the pit of her stomach.

  “Oh, my God,” she moaned, stopping cold.

  David caught her arm and pulled her into motion again, propeling her into the building, through the lobby and into the elevator Toby was holding for them. Soon enough, they were inside David’s lush, if cluttered, digs.