by Deb Julienne
“What do you mean?” Sabrina frowned.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I understand it myself. We’re too comfortable for it to be a date.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Sabrina threw her napkin down and leapt up, jarring the table.
Trent grabbed her wrist. “Hold on. I wasn’t going to say you’re too nice or any such garbage like that.”
She glared at him. They’d attracted curious stares from the other patrons. Eventually she took her seat. “Okay, let’s hear it,” she said.
He chose his words carefully. “Usually, early in the first couple of dates it’s no big deal. I’m relaxed, having fun, no stress. But you have me so out of sorts that I can’t seem to say anything right. I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing and yet that’s all I seem to do. I’m trying my damnedest to be on my best behavior.
“And?”
He fidgeted with his food. “Well, one minute I’m not the least bit anxious and the next I’m on the defensive. When we first got here, it felt different. I mean we came straight from work. It was like a dinner meeting or drinks with a co-worker or friend. It doesn’t have a date feel. I feel like I’m cheating you out of a date.”
“Well then, sorry, I can’t help you. I have a queasy stomach and I’m thoroughly scared. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” She splayed her hands on the table, her face went white.
“Maybe it’s because I didn’t pick you up or because this date happened in such an odd fashion. I don’t know. It just feels off.”
“So pretend you picked me up. What’s the big deal? If this was your kind of date what would we be do next?
“I’d have the entire evening planned. Since I’m not from Sacramento I have no idea what to suggest.”
“Isn’t a date supposed to be where two people take the opportunity to enjoy one another’s company?”
“But are you enjoying it if you’re nauseated and sound miserable?”
“Remember this is new to me. Sure I’m nauseated…I’ve never been on a third date. I’m in what next mode, waiting for a bomb to explode. At the same time, I’m excited. I like spending time with you. I like sharing my day with you.”
“Same here.”
“But you can’t fully understand me, you’ve had relationships, I haven’t.
“Except that I’ve never felt like this before. I’m usually confident, but you have me second guessing everything I do. I don’t want to hurt you in any way.
“So what’s the big deal? I don’t understand.”
The way she said it neither did he. Maybe he was making too much of it. Maybe it was his guilt eating him alive. Everything about Sabrina made him doubt himself and his motives. Probably, for the most part anyway, his stupid con got in the way, big as the Great Wall of China. He wanted to spill his guts about everything, only it wasn’t the right time or place. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” He needed to make an admission even if it wasn’t the big one.
“Oh God, this sounds ominous.” Sabrina sat back.
“I think it’s something you ought to know.”
Her eyebrows drew together, her lips pinched.
“Remember when you said guys claimed you were too nice to date?”
“Yes.” It came out with a hiss.
“Well I think I figured out what they meant.”
“Really, do tell?”
“I believe you made them so comfortable they knew they’d hurt you somehow. You’re genuinely nice and sweet. I think the guilt was too much. It’s a theory, mind you, but I understand it. You are a nice person. I’m comfortable with you. I feel like a fraud calling this a date. See what I mean?”
She shook her head. “It’s still an insult.”
“You can’t look at it that way.” He tried to find a better explanation. “Okay, is there someone you met, wanted to date, but never dreamed he’d asked you out?”
She blushed. “You forget who you’re talking to. The answer is no.”
That was stupid. He’d only made things worse. “Let me put it differently. There have been a few women I was interested in. When I finally asked them out I was disappointed.”
“Gee, thanks.” She folded her arms.
“No. I don’t mean you.”
“I can’t help you here. I’m clueless, remember?”
Why did he keep saying the wrong thing around her? “My guess is the guys originally had the bright idea to take you out, get you drunk, and take advantage of you. That was their plan. Along comes Sabrina. She’s great company, clever, a delightful conversationalist and fun to be with. She listens, interacts, and suddenly those so-called plans get tossed out the window because they see you’re not a cheap and easy date.”
Sabrina appeared to mull over the concept. “I guess I get that explanation. What’s the big deal? Why not just come out and tell me it’s better to be friends instead of ditching me altogether?”
“Honey, we’re talking about guys. We suck at that. No way are we going to admit the truth to a woman we planned to sleep with. We have our reputations to keep intact.”
“In other words it wasn’t so much an insult against me but more a recrimination against them?”
“Exactly.”
“I guess I can live with that, still, I don’t get the games. I never have. I’m me. I’m honest. I don’t see the need to pretend to be something I’m not.” The color leached from her face.
“Sabrina what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” A shadow of annoyance crossed her face.
“Sabrina?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look upset.”
“No, not really. It’s just—Kat and I had a—”
“A what?”
She shrugged. “I wonder if she’s right.”
“About—”
“We sort of had a fight. She accused me of hiding behind masks.”
“The only mask I know of is the one I removed yesterday.” He smiled at the memory of the kiss that followed.
“Oh, don’t remind me.” She covered her face with her hands then peeked between her spread fingers.
“Sorry, but I’m glad it happened or I’d never have kissed you.”
“As I remember it, I’m the one who kissed you,” she said.
“That’s right. You did.”
A moment of silence followed and made his heart beat a little faster. She smiled, turned a pretty shade of pink, took a sip of her drink and met his gaze. Her eyes twinkled.
“It was a nice kiss. Wasn’t it?” he asked.
“I can’t argue with you there.” She sighed.
“Do you have any suggestions for what you’d like to do later? You know, since you live here?”
“Back at the office you suggested a ride in the park. I’m still game if you are.
“Oh, that’s right. It does sound nice. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Truth be told, I’ve always wanted to go on one. I’ve never been invited.”
“That’s it, then.” A romantic carriage ride at this time of year was guaranteed to lead to a fabulous kiss.
9
They navigated the sidewalks past the throngs of holiday goers, colorful lights trimming every tree. “I love everything about Christmas. It’s was such a magic time for a kid. This park is a child’s dream come true.” Sabrina pointed at the inflatable Santa Claus, Frosty, and Rudolph. “Oh how cute is that?”
“It’s okay, I guess.”
“That’s sacrilegious. Don’t you ever remember being a kid and excited for Christmas?” she said, watching foam pellets swirling around inside Frosty’s belly.
“It was a long time ago.”
She felt sad for him. Obviously he’d forgotten what it was to be a kid. The nearby speakers blasted Frosty the Snowman. The decorations included castles, sleighs, everything a kid might hope to see. Filled with happiness, she grabbed Travis’ hand and pulled him to the edge of the pathway to watch children dance ar
ound Frosty’s belly.
She tried let go of Travis’ but he wouldn’t release his hold. Her insides turned to liquid heat.
As they neared the spacious ice skating rink she heard canned Perry Como singing, “ It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” She sang along.
Travis put his arm around her waist and joined her. The Mormon Tabernacle choir they weren’t, but it sure was fun.
“How can you not remember what it is to be kid? Didn’t you play in the park at Christmas?”
“Wellington’s never show emotion,” he said with a straight face, then burst out laughing. “Oh the grief we gave our mother. She wanted perfect little children, to be seen, not heard. My brother and I were uncontrollable. Demon’s if you ask her, but I’m sure we were just typical kids.”
“I thought so. Tell me, what’s your favorite Christmas memory?”
“That’s easy. When we were eight, we begged our mother to take us to Macy’s so we could tell Santa what we wanted. She was so busy with her charity work, club meetings and such that she couldn’t be bothered. Our Uncle Max offered to take us. We had our pictures taken on Santa’s lap. I still have the photo on my dresser.”
“Why was that Christmas special, what did you ask for?”
“That’s just it. If Mom had taken us we’d have asked for one thing, a bicycle. But Uncle Max loaded us on soda, burgers, fries and candy beforehand and we were out of control. We asked for everything. Bicycles, sleds, paint ball guns, roller blades, skateboards, you name it we asked for it. All the things our parents deemed unnecessary. I thought Mom was going to kill Uncle Max when he brought us home. We got sent to our rooms for misbehaving.”
“That’s too bad. So what happened?”
“We were being ridiculous greedy, no way would we get any of it. But come Christmas morning, it was all there, every last item we requested.”
“You guys must have been out of your minds.”
“No kidding, we had so much fun we didn’t want to stop playing to eat Christmas dinner. Mom had to threaten to give it all to a homeless shelter if we didn’t come inside.”
“Is she really that strict?”
“It’s all about decorum with her.”
How sad. Half the fun for her and Nickie had been their folks helping them get ready for the holidays.
“If you ever have kids, are you going to be like your mom or like Uncle Max?” she asked, wishing she could meet his uncle. He sounded like he knew how to have fun.
“Uncle Max all the way.”
“I’ll bet you boys still have fun with him.”
“We did, he passed away a couple of years ago. Christmas hasn’t been the same since. He always managed to give us something wild, to remind us of our inner child. I think that’s what I want when I have kids.”
She liked his answer. He didn’t say if, but when.
Several carriages lined the edge of the park near old town. Families strolled down the walk as children ran from scene to scene, excitement in their exuberant squeals of delight. Sabrina pointed to a couple of kids driving their folks to distraction. Each new exhibition seemed to enchant them more than the last. A pageantry of spectacular sights and sounds created a memorable stage for the benefit of the audience.
Travis pointed to a couple of boys chasing their sister and their wild antics kept their folks on their toes.
Her sides ached from laughing so hard.
“Yeah, that’s gonna work. Yell at them to stop. Man, parents are so clueless. They should be happy their kids are having fun, making memories, because they grow up too fast,” he said.
“Color me impressed. That was very insightful for someone who doesn’t have kids.”
As she and Travis waited their turn for a ride, the chill in the air made her prance from foot to foot. She wasn’t exactly dressed for the experience.
Their carriage pulled up. A perfectly matched pair of white Arabian horses whinnied and stomped impatiently blowing out breaths of misty air.
“The horses are beautiful. So majestic and festive,” she said, admiring them.
“Do you like horses?”
“I’ve always wanted to learn to ride.”
“We’ll just have to see what we can do about that in the spring.”
“You think you’ll be around that long?” She looked away. He was too good at reading her but she really wanted to hear his response.
“I’m here for at least a year. Why do you act so surprised?” He took her by the chin and forced her to look at him.
“Just curious.” She shrugged.
“Why not ask what’s really on your mind–if I want to be here?
“With me?” she teased, looking down, embarrassed about prying.
“Of course I do. What, I’m supposed to be the first guy you dump or something?”
“I hope not, but aren’t you taking a lot for granted all things considered?”
“No. I believe in the power of positive thinking.”
“I wish I knew if you were telling me the truth and not just saying what you think I want to hear.”
“I do mean it, but it’s fun teasing you to a nice blush.”
“Are you sure you’re not lying to me?”
He looked stricken, his cheeks lost all color. “I’m not lying.”
“Good. I hope not, I hate liars.”
Travis turned away, but not before she saw something cross his face. He paid for their ride and by the time he turned to help her up the step and in the seat whatever it was had disappeared. The driver handed them a heavy throw. Travis sat next to her and tucked the blanket around them.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked.
Sabrina nodded, afraid if she spoke the magical spell would be broken.
One of the dreams on her dating-to-do list was a ride in a carriage exactly like this with a handsome man beside her. She became Cinderella on her way to the ball. Only better. This was real not some fairytale.
He pulled her deep in his arms and snuggled her close. Not an ounce of space lay between them. When he kissed her cheek she leaned against him closed her eyes and let out a breath. “I think I like your sigh.”
“You should. You’re the reason,” she said feeling momentarily blessed with all that was right in her world.
The carriage rolled forward and began its trek through the park.
“Oh how pretty. It looks like a scene out of a Dickens story.” She loved the Victorian costumes.
“Nah, I like that one, it reminds me of the snowball scene in The Bishops Wife.” Travis chuckled at the animated characters.
“I love that movie. It’s not Christmas without it.”
“It’s a Wonderful life, for me.”
“I like that one as well,” she added.
Travis pointed to the raucous children who chased one another as their parents hollered for them to come back. The children all but ignored them.
“Shades of my past. I remember when we were kids. There was this park not far from our house and my brother and I used to love to drag our folks there each December. They hated it because we’d get excited, unable to stand still. And in our family comportment and decorum is everything.”
“Was that hard on you boys?”
“It wasn’t easy. We just wanted to be kids. Our parents wanted us to be perfect.”
“Does it bother you that they had such high expectations of you?”
“I think it did in our earlier teens. We rebelled, Trent more than I, but when it’s been drilled into you since birth, it eventually becomes second nature.”
“Is that why you don’t cut loose much? I mean you’re nothing like Kat.”
Travis snorted. “Kat was a spoiled brat. She had everything she ever wanted. Loving parents who believed in her. She did whatever she wanted. Until her parents were killed in that accident. I’m not sure she’ll ever get over that. Our moms were sisters, but polar opposites. I loved my aunt and uncle.”
“I know what you mean. Some day
s Kat is so out of sorts. Like she can’t stand being in her own skin. Most days she manages to plug through, but I catch her staring at their picture in the living room and it’s like she’s transported and doesn’t want to return to the present. I don’t blame her. I know she feels alone, except for her Uncle Jack,” Sabrina said.
The mention of Jack set Travis off on full fledge snickers. “Uncle Jack, have you ever met him?”
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure. Why?”
“The summer my brother and I turned fourteen, Kat’s folks and ours went on a month long tour of Europe searching for our roots. It was all the rage back then. They left us with our Grandparents. Grandpa fell and broke his leg. He was in a great deal of pain and us kids were just too much for them, so Jack offered to keep us until the folks returned. God we had a ball. We swam, went to Coney Island and all over the eastern seaboard. We ended up in his beach house next to JFK and Jackie’s.”
“As in—”
“The very same.”
She couldn’t imagine rubbing elbows with them, the life of the privileged.
“Wow.”
“No biggie. Anyways, Jack taught us to play cards. Man the stories that man has. I’d loved to have been there when he broke the bank at Monte Carlo.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, Black Jack Carmichael is a wild character.”
“So, how are you all related?”
“Jack is Kat’s dad’s kid brother, but we’ve always called him Uncle Jack. Back to my story. We had to return to boarding school before they returned from their trip. Except they had to cut their trip short because Trent got caught gambling and wiped out one of the kids monthly allowance and when he called home for more money, he blamed it on Trent, said he stole the money. When it came out that the schmuck lost it playing poker, they both got suspended for a week.”
“Poor Trent.”
“Poor Trent my ass. He got to go home for a week while I was stuck in classes.”
“Still, it was as much the other kids fault.”
“Who are you kidding? By the time we left Jack and went back to school, Trent was adept at counting cards, almost as good as Jack. After that, the only card games he got into were games of strip poker with girls who counted on losing.