True Blue
Page 16
“Yes, shame, but I am very busy and my mind is on other things. Happy Christmas, my son.”
“Happy Christmas to you, Dad,” he said, glowing because his father had taken time out of a revolution to wish him well.
“Things are going fine here. Perhaps soon you and your lovely wife will come to visit me, and I will send a plane for you.”
“That would be nice,” Rick said. He mouthed “Dad” to Gwen, who grinned.
“Meanwhile, be a good boy and Santa Claus will send you something very nice in the near future.”
“I didn’t get you anything,” Rick said with sadness.
There was a deep chuckle. “You did. The hope of grandchildren. That is a gift beyond measure.”
“I’ll do my best,” Rick replied, tongue in cheek.
There was an interruption. “Yes, I will be right there. Sorry. I have to go. Wish me luck.”
“You know I do.”
“And Happy Christmas, my son.”
“Happy Christmas.”
He hung up.
“That was a very nice surprise,” Rick said.
She smiled. “Yes.”
“It’s not a simple recipe,” the general was growling. “Nobody can make that right! It’s a stupid recipe, it curdles every time!”
“It’s not stupid, and yes, you can,” Barbara growled back.
“I’m telling you, it’s impossible! I know, I’ve tried!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Come on in here and I’ll show you. It’s not hard!”
“That’s what you think!”
“Stop growling. It’s Christmas.”
The general made a face. “All right, damn it.”
“Gene!”
He sighed. “Darn it.”
“Much better,” she said with a grin.
“I won’t be reformed by a cook,” he informed her. “And just in case you didn’t notice, I’m head of the CIA!”
“In this house, you’re an apprentice chef. Now stop muttering and come on. This is one of the easiest sauces in the world, and you won’t curdle it if you’ll just pay attention.”
The general was still muttering as he followed Barbara into the kitchen. There was a loud rattle of pots and pans and the opening of the fridge. Voices murmured.
Rick pulled Gwen into his arms and kissed her hungrily. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“See? I told you! That’s curdling!”
“It’s not curdling, it’s reducing!”
“Damn it, you put the butter in too soon!” the general was raging.
“I did not!”
Rick rolled his eyes. “Do you think you could do something about your father?”
“If you’ll do something about your mother,” she returned with a grin.
“I’m not raising the heat. That book is wrong!” the general snapped.
Rick looked at Gwen. Gwen looked at Rick. In the kitchen, the voices were growing louder. Without a word, they went to the front door, opened it and ran for their car.
Rick was laughing. “They won’t even miss us,” he said as he started the vehicle. “And maybe if they’re left alone, they’ll make peace.”
“You think?” she teased.
He drove off to the house they were buying, cut off the engine and stared at it.
“We’re going to be very happy here,” Gwen said, sighing. “I’ll make a garden and your mother can teach me how to can.”
“Yes.” He pulled her close. “If she and your father don’t kill each other,” he added.
“They’ll have to learn to get along.”
“Ha!”
The phone rang. Rick opened it. “Hello?”
“Could you come home for a minute?” Barbara asked.
“Sure. If it’s safe,” he teased. “What do you need?”
“Well, we could use a little help in the kitchen.”
“Making the sauce?”
“Getting hollandaise sauce out of hair. And curtains. And cabinets. And on walls…”
“Mom!” he exclaimed. “What happened?”
“He thought I was making it wrong and I thought he was making it wrong, and, well, we sort of, uh, tossed the pan up.”
“Are you okay?”
“Actually, you know, I think he was right. It tastes pretty good with less salt.”
“I see.”
“He’s looking for another frying pan, so could you hurry?” she whispered, and then hung up.
“What’s going on?” Gwen asked.
He grinned as he started the car. “War of the Worlds Part I. We get to help clean up the carnage in the kitchen.”
“Excuse me?”
“They trashed the hollandaise sauce all over the kitchen.”
“At least they’re speaking,” she pointed out.
He just shook his head. The general and his mother might eventually agree to a truce, but Rick had a feeling that it was going to be a long winter.
He pulled Gwen close and kissed the top of her head. He could manage anything, he thought, as long as he had her.
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Too many cooks spoil the broth?” she wondered aloud.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he agreed. “Let’s go referee.”
“Done!”
They drove home through the colorful streets, with strings of red and blue and yellow and green lights and garlands of holly and fir. In the middle of the town square was a huge Christmas tree full of decorations, under which were wooden painted presents.
“One day,” Rick said, “we’ll bring our kids here when they light the tree.”
She beamed. “Yes,” she said, and it was a promise. “One day.”
The tree grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as they turned down the long road that led to Barbara’s house. It was, Rick thought, truly the best Christmas of his life. He looked down at Gwen, and he saw in her eyes that she was thinking the very same thing.
Two lonely people, who found in each other the answer to a dream.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8196-7
TRUE BLUE
Copyright © 2011 by Diana Palmer
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