“See you Wednesday. Two p.m. or so,” he reminded me.
I still had at least an hour and a half to kill before meeting Jon at the clinic, maybe more. If I was quick about it, I might catch some of the boutiques open to pick up a small token gift for Doc. Should I get one for Jon? I asked myself. Deciding I should, just so it wouldn’t be obvious that I’d brought a gift for Doc and not for Jon, I wracked my brain for something that would be gracious but wouldn’t mean anything. A tie maybe? But, Jon had impeccable taste, and it wasn’t like there was a Saks or a Dillards here where I could get a really nice one, even if I could have afforded it. Maybe looking through the shelves locally would inspire me, and if not, I’d close the clinic at noon tomorrow and run down to Boulder for an idea.
Some of the shops were already closed, others would be closing at six. I didn’t have much time. In one, I found a number of Colorado-grown food products, like jars of honey and jam, or snacks. The proprietor suggested a basket with several selections when I couldn’t make up my mind. It sounded right for Doc, so I had them make up a basket while I waited. I picked a local honey infused with loganberry syrup, which sounded absolutely delicious to me. Also, some humorous selections, like ‘moose droppings’, a chocolate-coated candy. By the time I’d added a mug that said ‘Colorado Native’ and some hot chocolate to the mix, I was satisfied that Doc would love it, especially if I could slip a small bottle of Kahlua into it before I gave it to him. Maybe I was projecting my own taste onto Doc, but I did think he’d appreciate the thought.
Jon was a different story. By waiting for the basket, I’d used the rest of the time that anything would be open in Sunshine. I’d definitely have to go to Boulder the next day, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I could get a manicure while I was there, since my hands were always such a mess. I was beginning to feel a little Christmas spirit, and that was a good thing.
Jon called me from the road that he’d be back with Max at around seven-thirty, so I didn’t bother trying to get dinner beforehand. Afterward would be plenty of time for me to heat up one of my frozen dinners. Instead, I drove up and down the main street, to make sure I’d left no stone unturned, and then out to the resort for a quick recon of the gift shops there. By the time I had exhausted all avenues, it was time to meet Jon.
I got to the clinic just in time to see Max leap from the back seat of Jon’s car. He was really doing very well. It would soon be time to look for a home for him. I hated to see him go, was completely attached to him by that time. But a life in a cage, even a large one with open wire grid, was no life for a big dog like Max. No life for any dog, for that matter. I’d have to let him go, for his own good, even if it broke my heart.
Jon followed me into the clinic, telling me about the recommendation the therapist had made for Max to get some good outdoor exercise now. Once I’d put Max into the kennel, I turned to find Jon too close to me.
“Oh!” I said, involuntarily.
“Sorry,” Jon returned, backing up. I looked up into those brown eyes, verifying that they were identical to Doc’s, but didn’t say anything. It was up to Doc to tell him, or him to tell Doc. I wasn’t sure who was getting the results of the paternity tests. In any case, I didn’t belong in the middle. But, I couldn’t help being glad for both of them.
Both were alone in the world, and now they’d have each other. It made me miss my mom and sister. When I got home, I called both of them and the three of us enjoyed a long chat until it got late in Texas, an hour ahead of Colorado time.
~*~
For some reason, I’d always thought of Colorado as stormy, with lots of snow in the winter. In fact, Sunshine did get a lot of snow, but almost every day had at least a few minutes of brilliant sunshine, too. Christmas Day was no different.
I woke up to snow that made everything white and sparkling, a classic white Christmas. By mid-morning, though, the clouds had cleared and the sun came out to light the frozen crystals in gold and every color of the rainbow. It was magical, and it put me in the best mood I’d been in since…wow, since I could remember.
I’d baked the pecan pie after getting home from Boulder yesterday, and the pumpkin one was in the oven. Even if there were only three of us, at least two of us could enjoy the leftovers for a day or two. I hoped that my pie crust would turn out light and flaky as always, not finding an adjustment for altitude online. Deciding philosophically that it couldn’t possibly be any worse than a pre-made frozen crust, I was confident that we’d enjoy the pies.
With everything in readiness, I still had a couple of hours to kill before leaving for Doc’s, so I chose A Christmas Story as my favorite Christmas movie and sat down to watch it with a cup of hot chocolate in my hand. Not being involved in the frantic production of a big Christmas dinner was strange, since this was the first time I’d ever missed being at home for it. I could have been sad about that, or nostalgic, but talking to Mom and Sis on Monday had left me feeling okay about it. Not joyful, exactly, but okay. Enough that my good mood over the beautiful weather wasn’t spoiled, anyway.
At ten ‘til two, I backed out of my driveway and headed for Doc’s house. I would probably arrive precisely on time or even a minute or two early, but it wasn’t as if it were a fancy-dress cocktail party where being fashionably late was de rigueur.
I had dressed casually, but in nice clothes, a pair of rayon-wool blend tailored slacks in black, with a soft, creamy-white cowl-necked sweater. Boots, of course, for the snow, but I was carrying a pair of wooly socks in my purse that I’d substitute for the boots if it seemed appropriate. My hair was down for a change, floating around my shoulders but held back by a red velvet headband, my only nod to the Christmas season. Red wasn’t really my color, but it would do as an accessory to relieve the stark color scheme.
I seldom wore makeup. It wasn’t practical in my profession, and I resented the fact that men could be beautiful without it, while women seemed to think it was an absolute necessity. I’d put on a moisturizing lotion, dusted my cheekbones with a pink-gold blusher and applied mascara, but that was about it. I only put on the blusher to keep my face from disappearing between my ash-blonde hair and white sweater. I didn’t dare admit to myself that I wanted to look my best because Jon would be there, so I didn’t.
I left the pecan pie on the front seat where it had ridden to Doc’s, since I couldn’t manage both and still close the car door. I was standing on the porch with the pumpkin pie when Jon’s BMW pulled up behind my car and he called out “Merry Christmas” as he got out.
“Grab the other pie,” I called to him. He opened the front passenger door, ducked in, and came out with the pie and a comical look on his face. Doc was just opening the front door when Jon got to me.
“How did you know this was my favorite?” he asked.
“I didn’t. Doc requested it.”
“I can’t get enough pecan pie. And they never have it in pie shops except around Thanksgiving and Christmas. I would seriously pay you to make me one of these every week.”
“Well, I’m probably a little expensive for you,” I teased. “If I charge my going rate per hour at the clinic, times two hours to make a pecan pie, let’s see. That’ll be $480 per pie.”
“If you can bake a good one, it would be worth it.”
“Don’t be silly.”
Doc listened to our banter, then said, “Merry Christmas, by the way. Wasn’t sure you knew I was here.”
I kissed him on the cheek, said “Sorry! Where do you want this?” lifting the pumpkin pie in my hands. Jon had been so focused on the pecan that he hadn’t noticed the pumpkin before.
“Oh, my God! I think I have to marry you!”
I froze. After our talk the other night, I couldn’t believe he’d even joke about that. Doc noticed my discomfort and said, “No, I have dibs on her,” which broke the tension.
“I’m not marrying anyone right now, boys,” I said, trying for a return to the light banter of a moment before. When I’d put the whipping cream in
the fridge to stay cold until it was time to whip it, I went back out to the car for the gifts I’d brought. I was a bit nervous about Jon’s. The joke had seemed quite funny when I bought it, but now I wasn’t so sure. I carried the basket and the gift bag into the house and surreptitiously slipped them under the tree. Maybe there’d be no occasion to give them to their intended recipients, but I knew Doc would find the basket eventually.
When I went back into the kitchen, Doc had Jon arranging crudités on a platter around a bowl of creamy-looking dip. I stole a broccoli floret and dipped, popping it into my mouth quickly when I saw Doc turning around. It was too big to hold there, though, so Doc caught me chewing and swallowing.
“Jon, don’t let her spoil her appetite. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Erin, would you like to mash the potatoes?” The three of us worked companionably in the kitchen and it was so much like home, except that my co-cooks were men, that I began to feel as happy as I had when I woke up this morning, despite Jon’s faux pas. This was going to turn out to be a fun day, I could feel it.
Two hours later, all three of us were groaning with having eaten too much, and we hadn’t even cut the pies yet. Doc suggested we rest up in the living room before attempting pie, saying we could watch TV, or play Scrabble, or just take a nap if we wanted. Of course, the tree was in the living room, which I already knew. Doc’s expression gave me a hint that he was using the suggestion as a ruse to get us all around the tree, and I got nervous again about my gift to Jon. It was too late to hide it now, though. For better or worse, Jon was going to see it. I just hoped he didn’t think I was too weird. On the other hand, why did I even care what he thought?
Once we were seated in the living room, Doc made a show of discovering the gifts under the tree. “What’s this? Why, I believe Santa’s been here!” It was so silly I had to laugh, in spite of being a bit nervous. Doc examined the tags on the gifts, exclaiming over the huge basket of goodies I’d brought him. “These treats look scrumptious,” he said. “Moose droppings, yum, my favorite.” Then he handed me a small box with a pretty silver bow from him and a larger box, professionally wrapped, from Jon. He handed Jon a box slightly larger than mine from him, and the gift bag that held my gift to Jon, and finally sat down with Jon’s gift, a tall box that sloshed. A wicked grin stole over his face as he asked Jon, “Is this what I think it is?”
I was waiting politely for an invitation to open my gifts, but both men tore into their boxes at the same time, Doc pulling out a bottle of deep amber liquid. Scotch, unless I missed my guess. Jon was carefully unwrapping the box from Doc, so I did the same. The gold necklace I drew out of mine had an exquisite pendant of a caduceus with a V superimposed on it, the symbol of veterinary medicine. Tears sprang to my eyes as I recognized Doc’s meaning. That he had respect for me as a colleague, although his patients were human and mine were not meant the world to me. I got up to kiss his cheek again, and whispered my thank you.
Jon was admiring his gift, a watch that had to have cost a small fortune. I wasn’t a watch connoisseur, wouldn’t have known a Rolex from a Timex, but it was plain to see that this solid-looking watch was well made. Jon put it on immediately, slipping the watch he’d worn into his pocket. It looked good on him, displaying his stature as a man of means. Doc asked if he’d seen the engraving. Jon took the watch off again and turned it over so he could read the back. He went still, his jaw flexing, and then looked up. To my surprise, there were tears in his eyes, too.
“And I’d be proud to be, too,” he said. “I hope I am.”
He didn’t read the engraving, but I guessed what it must have said, something to the effect that Doc would be proud to have him as a son. Neither man had told me whether the extended test had been completed yet, but I decided from this exchange that they didn’t know, not yet. Then Jon and I each had one gift left, from each other. I sat back down and took the box onto my lap, then waited.
“You first,” Jon said, nodding at the gift. The box was the size that a blouse or a peignoir might come in. Surely he wouldn’t, I thought, then decided to bite the bullet and open it. The softest, most beautiful shawl I’d ever seen lay in the tissue paper. A lovely green that would make my eyes take on the same color, a tiny gauge of knitted cashmere that almost looked woven, it was so dense.
“Oh!” I said, surprising myself with the sound. I hadn’t consciously intended to say anything. Suddenly remembering what was waiting in the gift bag for him, I said, “Don’t open mine.”
“What, you’re taking back my gift?” he teased.
“It’s, it was just a joke,” I said, miserable that I hadn’t tried harder to find something perfect for him. “I didn’t know…”
“I love a good joke,” he said, reaching into the bag. I couldn’t look. I clutched my beautiful shawl to my face, feeling the softness and hiding from the look on his when he found…the Christmas stocking with a golden retriever pictured on it, dog paw prints all over the background, and filled with dog treats. For a minute, everyone was silent. I lifted my face from my shawl to see what looks of disgust they had on their faces, just as both Jon and Doc burst out in identical guffaws that carried through the house. I sat, humiliated, as they laughed for far too long.
“Does this mean I’m in the doghouse?” Jon gasped, when he could finally speak. “I know you’re mad at me, but…” and then he was off, laughing too hard again to finish his sentence.
“It was just a joke,” I said, my voice tiny and faltering. “I didn’t know we were getting each other nice gifts…” Shut up, I told myself. You’re making it worse.
Jon stopped laughing then, finally aware of my distress. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, and of course you didn’t need to get me anything at all. This is just too funny. You wanted it to be, didn’t you?”
At that, I stood and fled the room, hearing him say to Doc, “What did I say?”
~*~
I was sitting miserably in my apartment, wishing that I’d had the presence of mind to grab one of the pies, when the doorbell rang. I didn’t want to answer it, but when it rang again, I did, hoping it was Mrs. P. As I feared, though, it was Jon. He had a pie tin in one hand, and a can of Reddi-Whip in the other.
“Sorry, we ate all the real stuff,” he said, by way of greeting.
I stood back so he could enter, without answering.
“This is a good sign. You let me in. Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“Jon, there’s nothing to forgive. I was just embarrassed, and it was my fault, not yours. Thanks for bringing me some pie; I was wishing I had it.”
“Well, we thought you should have some, since you baked it. I’m afraid there’s not much left. One piece of each kind.”
“That’s fine.”
I didn’t know whether to ask him to sit down, offer him some wine, tell him I couldn’t accept the beautiful shawl, though I’d been snuggled in it most of the afternoon. So I just stood there, waiting for him to say something.
“I’ll just put this on the counter, okay?” he said. I nodded. He put down the pie and the whipped cream and turned to face me.
“I’m sorry I laughed, Erin. It wasn’t meant to be at you. It was more at me, really. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”
I sighed. “Jon, I can’t accept the shawl. I’m glad you came by, so I can give it back. It’s so beautiful, but it’s too much.”
His face changed from rueful and amused to disappointed. When had I learned to read his expressions so well? I could almost hear what he was thinking, and then he spoke, confirming what I already knew.
“Erin, please. You have to. I worked really hard to find something as beautiful as you, but not too personal. I know it’s too soon for…anything between us. But, I’d really, really like you to keep that shawl. When you need to snuggle up and wrap something around you, I hope it’ll be that shawl instead of another guy. Until I can redeem myself.”
He looked so much like a woeful puppy that I almost laughed. Bu
t, I remembered how humiliating a laugh at my expense had been, and suppressed it.
“What makes you think you can ever redeem yourself, Jon? Haven’t I made it clear that I can’t be with a cheater?”
“But, what if I change? I can change, I swear it.”
“Go home, Jon. I’ll keep the shawl, if you insist, and thank you, it is lovely. But I make no promises. You’ve asked for my forgiveness, and you have it, but have you asked for Ashleigh’s? She’s the wronged party. Make it right with her, if you can. Then maybe we can be friends.”
“I get it. Can I still see Max?”
“Of course you can. In fact, I should go and let him out for a while, give him his dinner. Want to go with me?”
“I do! I happen to have some dog treats…” We laughed together, then, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist his overtures of friendship. But I was going to try, really hard. Because, no matter how gorgeous, how sweet, how contrite or how sexy he was, he’d done the same thing to Ashleigh that Greg had done to me. All except the marrying the other woman. It was too much for me to deal with.
Stray Page 19