The Christmas Feast

by Peggy Webb

  “Knife fight.”

  She kissed it, then said, “There, now, I’ve made it all better.”

  “Yes…yes, you have.”

  He kissed her mouth, her nose, her ear, the freckles on her shoulder. “I love these,” he said, then kissed them again and moved back to her lips.

  Then they were beyond talking, beyond exploring. With her face in his shoulder and her body moving silently to his rhythm, Jolie thought, This is all I need to know. This love that makes everything else insignificant by comparison.

  In a world full of uncertainty, Jolie was blessed to have one sure thing—a love strong enough for whatever came next, a love that would endure, no matter what.

  Around midnight Lance said, “Is that chicken I smell?”

  “Yes. Stuffed with mushrooms and onions.”

  “My sweet little gourmet.” He kissed her nose. “I’m hungry.”

  They dashed into the kitchen, naked and laughing, then ate a very late dinner of chicken and beans, sitting side by side and reaching out every now and then to touch.

  “I was going to cook rice and make a salad,” she said.

  “That’s okay. I know a better way to spend that time.”

  “So do I.” With a mischievous grin, she led him back to bed.

  Jolie woke up to the delicious smells of cooking. Grabbing her robe, she hurried into her kitchen, and there was Lance in jeans and a too-small apron, preparing a feast.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Smiling, he folded her in his arms and kissed her.

  I would walk to the ends of the earth for his smile. And this wonderful feeling of being held safe from all harm.

  She smiled back. “Hey, handsome. I was going to fix breakfast in bed for you.” She glanced at the clock. “Well, brunch.”

  “That’s what I’m doing for you.” He kissed her again. “Now, hurry back to bed and when I come with a breakfast feast, pretend you’re surprised and amazed.”

  “I am. I am completely amazed that you’re here in my apartment, in my kitchen.”

  “I’m here…loving you. I love you, Jolie.”

  “Oh! Oh my gosh. You love me? You really do?”

  “Yes, I love you. I really do.”

  She launched herself at him and he held her close, kissing her, tears and all. Then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and she cried freely, not worrying about mascara.

  She loved kitchens. She was going to order two bronze plaques and put one where they now stood, the other in the kitchen at O’Banyon Manor, where they’d first met.

  Lance kissed her again, and breakfast in bed had to wait awhile.

  Jolie’s weekend with Lance ended all too quickly, and before she knew it she was in the car taking him to the airport.

  “I’m already missing you.”

  “I’ll call every night.” He handed her his handkerchief, then kissed her, grabbed his bag and vanished inside the terminal.

  She probably would have sat there another fifteen minutes if the security guard hadn’t motioned her on. She couldn’t cry and drive in heavy traffic, so she stopped crying. When she got to a residential section where traffic would be light, she’d resume.

  But Elizabeth foiled that plan. She called on Jolie’s cell phone to talk about Michael.

  “Guess what? He called.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’

  “I’m not speaking to him, and he knows it.”

  “Maybe if you saw him, you two could patch things up.”

  “Hell will freeze over before I see him.”

  “Well, if you feel that way…”

  “I most certainly do. Hey, you sound stopped up. Are you getting a cold?”

  “Probably. They’re still predicting snow up here.”

  “What does snow have to do with anything?”

  “You know, everybody staying inside and spreading germs.”

  Jolie felt a small twinge of guilt. After all, Elizabeth had confided in her about Michael. Still, what was there to say? Lance had said I love you, but that didn’t translate into wedding bells.

  “By the way, Elizabeth, I have a new job.” She went into great detail describing her office and her work, and by the time she’d finished, even she thought she’d landed a really important position. And it was. Saving animals was a noble cause.

  “That’s great, Jolie. I’m proud of you.”

  “And I’m taking a night course at Memphis State. Spanish.” When Elizabeth laughed, Jolie said, “I know, I know. You were right. I’m going to see if I can enroll in a computer course, too. I need to make friends with Godzilla.”

  “Who’s Godzilla?”

  “The computer at my office.”

  By the time Jolie finished her conversation and got home, she was out of the crying mood. Which was a good thing, because Connie was waiting for her on the top step of the staircase outside her apartment.

  The first thing her friend said was, “Since when did you start wearing makeup?”

  Jolie pointed to her chin. “Beard burn.”

  “Braggart.” Laughing, Connie linked arms and led the way to her apartment. “You don’t need to be by yourself this evening. I’ve got popcorn and hot chocolate waiting. I’m dying to hear all.”

  When they were seated in the middle of Connie’s fluffy faux bearskin rug, surrounded by food, Jolie said, “Okay, here goes. This story is called ‘My Weekend in Paradise with a Knight in Shining Armor.’”

  “Sounds like a romance to me.”

  “It was. It is.”

  Jolie told her friend everything, except the good parts.

  Lance had never expected to leave his heart behind in Memphis, but that’s exactly what he’d done. It was one thing to tell Jolie he loved her, and quite another to feel as if the other half of him was missing. And yet two weeks of absence had hammered that lesson home.

  Why should that surprise him? One look at her and all his plans for sightseeing and getting to know the real Jolie had gone up in smoke. Why did he think he could go back to Richmond and lay out plans for a long, leisurely courtship—say six months or a year?

  Besides, the case he was on suddenly escalated from fact-finding to full-blown emergency. He barely had time to keep his promise to call Jolie every night, let alone plan a courtship starting with another weekend in Memphis. At the rate things were going, he’d be lucky if he saw her again in the next six months.

  Still, he did call every night as promised.

  The dial on his watch showed midnight when he finally got a break. “I’m getting a cup of coffee,” he told his partner, then shut himself into the break room and called Jolie.

  She answered on the first ring, breathless.

  “Oh, hello, darling,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “Sorry to be so late…again. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I’m just sitting here listening to B. B. King’s blues and studying for a Spanish test. Don’t ever hesitate to call me, anytime day or night. There’s nothing I love better than waking to the sound of your voice.”

  “How are you?”

  “Great. I’ve finally tamed Godzilla, and I think the SPCA really likes my work. I got to help put together a TV ad campaign.”

  Her sweetness and unfailing good cheer settled over him like a hug, and he longed for her with every fiber of his being.

  “I knew you could do it,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Oh, and guess what? I’m getting to work at the dog show in Phoenix on Valentine’s weekend.”

  “Your new job?”

  “No, my old. I’ll be grooming.”

  There was a knock on the door and Lance’s partner pushed it open. “Sorry to interrupt, pal, but we need you out here.”

  Lance nodded, and when the door closed again, said, “I’m sorry, baby, I’ve gotta go.”

  “Oh.” Her disappointment sliced him straight through the heart. “Be careful, darling. I love you.”

  Wh
en Lance hung up he felt as if he’d cut off his life support system. As he joined his partner and the rest of the ISF team in the room filled with glowing computer screens, ringing telephones, charts, maps and cigarette smoke, he knew that he couldn’t continue to maintain a telephone-only relationship. For that matter, he realized that an occasional weekend wouldn’t be enough, either.

  Jolie Kat Coltrane deserved more.

  And so did he.

  He went to his desk and checked his crowded calendar. Somehow, somewhere, there had to be time for love.

  Chapter 21

  Phoenix was much warmer than Memphis, and Jolie welcomed the change. She also welcomed the opportunity to work with show dogs again. Though she loved her new job with the SPCA, she realized that she didn’t want to quit grooming pets altogether because that was her chance to be around animals who were not only healthy and happy, but pampered. Seeing them balanced the scale and gave her some relief from dealing with and thinking about sick, abandoned and abused animals.

  In keeping with Valentine’s Day, hearts and flowers decorated the coliseum where the dog show was held. If she let herself she could feel blue being alone on the most romantic day of the year. Everywhere she looked she saw symbols of love, as well as lovers—pet owners holding hands, teenagers stealing kisses when they thought nobody was looking. Shoot, even the female poodle on the station next to hers was swooning over the fine specimen Jolie was working on, a standard poodle with perfect lines and an arrogant carriage, who, according to his owners, was going to be put out to stud after this show.

  He came from a long line of champions, had won many championships himself and was sure to command a high stud fee.

  As she clipped and combed, Jolie talked to her canine client. “Well, Romeo, I hear you’re going to have some fun after all this work is over. Oh, you didn’t know. I’ll let you in on a little secret, pal. There’s nothing in this world as wonderful as romance. See that little poodle over there—”

  Suddenly a loud clatter of hooves down the cavernous facility caught her attention. Jolie looked up to see a real live knight in genuine shining armor on a white stallion. And he was headed her way.

  “Oh my.” With one hand on Romeo and the other clutching the scissors, she watched as the rider drew closer. He didn’t stop until he was beside her station.

  “Hello, Jolie.”

  “Lancelot!”

  Lifting his visor, he dismounted, then took her hand. “I love you and have discovered the hard way that I can’t live without you. Will you marry me?”

  “Will I marry you? Will I marry you?” It was the most romantic, most extravagant proposal she’d ever heard of. The proposal of her dreams, straight out of a fairy tale.

  “Please say yes, Jolie.”

  “Oh my gosh. I’m going to cry. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He picked her up and they laughed as they tried to kiss through the opening in his helmet.

  “I wanted to get down on my knees, but I’m afraid these suits aren’t made for kneeling.”

  “It was perfect. A dream come true.”

  This time he took off his helmet to kiss her. And the universe moved! Actually, it was his horse, but that didn’t matter, because from where she stood—in Lance’s arms—she knew she was in the exact center of the universe, and that it would always move when they kissed.

  A small audience gathered, and a few people clapped, but the two of them never noticed. They kissed until it was time to get Romeo ready for the show. Then later that evening, in her motel room, they took up where they’d left off.

  “We have so much to talk about,” she declared.

  “Do we have to talk now?”

  “It can wait,” she told him.

  And it did…for a very long time.

  In May, when the irises and roses were in bloom and the sun was shining, two hundred guests arrived at O’Banyon Manor for a double wedding. Seated on folding chairs on the wide expanse of lawn facing the rose garden, they watched as members of the wedding party took their places in front of a wrought-iron, Victorian arbor covered with pink roses.

  The grooms—Dr. Ben Appleton and Lancelot Shane Estes—wore tuxedos. The brides wore purple.

  In a show of solidarity for Lucille O’Banyon Coltrane, Jolie came smiling down the rose-perfumed pathway behind her mother in a floor-length dress of purple chiffon with a sequined bodice, a new woman everybody expected great things from.

  The bridesmaids wore pink, and since two of them had insisted on outrageous hats, Connie and Elizabeth went along, because they’d seen it was no use arguing with Kitty O’Banyon and Dolly Wilder.

  The guest of honor sat on the front row with the director from the nursing home, wearing her favorite red cowboy boots. Beside them sat Clyde Shane and his wife, Lydia, who had flown in from Phoenix, and at the insistence of Kitty and Dolly would be staying on a few days as guests at O’Banyon Manor. And near the back sat Michael Sullivan, who knew a thing or two about making hell freeze over.

  The Reverend Josh O’Banyon performed the ceremony, and after two sets of I do’s, the newlyweds kissed none-too-sedately, which pleased the guests enormously. After all, these were Coltrane women from wild O’Banyon stock, so what else could you expect?

  After the ceremony, champagne flowed freely, nobody fell in the pool and the band stayed until the last guest gave up trying to dance and went home. Dr. Ben and his wife, Lucy, departed for an extended stay in Italy. And Lancelot and his wife, Jolie, set off to board the riverboat that would take them on a leisurely honeymoon cruise from Memphis to New Orleans.

  Aboard the Memphis Belle, Lance carried Jolie over the threshold of the honeymoon suite, which featured a canopied bed with red velvet curtains and gold fringe. She felt like a queen.

  “How did you know I’ve always wanted to do this?” she asked.

  “A little bird told me.”

  “Was her name Elizabeth?”

  “Married only one day and already you’re prying into my closely held secrets.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet. I plan to discover all your secrets.”

  When he placed her among the velvet covers and bent over her—his face open, his eyes tender and rich with promise—she fell in love all over again.

  “I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting, Mrs. Estes.”

  By the time they left their room, the moon had risen over the Mississippi and laid a path of silver across the water. Jolie leaned back in her husband’s arms, sighing.

  “Happy?” he asked.

  “Ecstatic.” Glancing up, she gave him a mischievous grin. “There is one thing missing, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A kitchen.”

  “Is there no end to your demands, Mrs. Estes?”

  Laughing, he kissed her and then they walked around the deck till they came to some wide doors, where music from the riverboat’s band drifted through. They danced on the deck, just the two of them alone with the moon, the music and their love. When they finally went back inside, Jolie fell asleep curved against her husband’s chest.

  She had no sooner closed her eyes—or so it seemed—than she felt Lance’s hands sliding under her, lifting her off the bed.

  “What?” she murmured. “What is it?”

  “Shh. A little surprise.”

  He carried her through the darkened riverboat, down winding stairs and into the pristine galley done in stainless steel.

  “The kitchen.”

  “And it’s all ours for the next three hours.”

  “Oh, Lance, how did you do it?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but positioned her on the cool countertop, then leaned in close and slid her gown over her head. The feel of his hands against her skin transported her to a place where only the two of them could go, a lovely secret world filled with warmth and laughter and the knowledge that as long as they loved truly and completely, they would be richly blessed.

  “Magic,” he finally said, and sh
e knew it was so. Now and forever.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459221321

  Copyright © 2003 by Peggy Webb

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