Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat

by Angela Britnell

  Whistling tunelessly to himself he grabbed a sweatshirt from the bedroom. The work he needed to do could wait until tomorrow morning. He had a grandmother to sweet talk.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brandishing a bunch of her favourite scented pink roses Tom rang his grandmother’s bell and opened the door at the same time. She never locked it despite his father berating her at regular intervals. ‘It’s only me,’ he called out, looking in through the living room and not spotting her anywhere.

  ‘Well if it isn’t my long lost grandson.’ Betty Mae Chambers carefully made her way down the narrow stairs stopping half way to catch her breath. ‘I thought you’d forgotten where I live.’ She waved a yellow duster in his face.

  They both knew he’d seen her only the week before but in her book that was a long time. Keeping a close watch on all her brood was his Mee Maw’s reason for living.

  ‘Your daddy talked about you when he popped in last night.’

  Tom wasn’t stupid enough to ask what exactly had been said. ‘Are you feeling better now?’

  ‘I’m fine. Don’t you start fussin’. I get enough of that from your daddy.’

  ‘These are for you.’ He thrust the flowers at her.

  ‘I didn’t think they were for Sooty.’ His grandmother’s reference to the overweight black cat she doted on made Tom grin. She lifted the flowers to her nose and sniffed. ‘All right, you’ve grovelled enough. I’ll let you stay a while and you can tell me why I’m being honoured by your presence and roses.’

  Other grandmothers might simply be pleased to get a visit but he should’ve known Mee Maw would guess he wasn’t simply being considerate. Talking to his father might have been the easier option. So much for sweet talking.

  ‘We’ll sit in the kitchen. I’m guessing you smelt the caramel cake and that’s why you’ve come sniffing around.’

  At least he’d hit the jackpot on the dessert front. Mee Maw’s caramel cake was renowned and she’d won multiple blue ribbons at the Tennessee State Fair before she stopped entering to give other people a chance. Her words not his. ‘Pure good luck. I admit I was hoping for a little something sweet but didn’t know I’d be totally spoiled.’

  ‘Being charming doesn’t suit you, Thomas Michael Chambers,’ she retorted, bustling off in the direction of the kitchen leaving him to follow. ‘Pour the coffee while I fix us some cake.’

  ‘Let me take care of doing it all to save you—’

  ‘I don’t have one foot in the grave despite what that new doctor says.’ She wagged her finger. Ever since she’d been warned to take it easy because her heart was weak the family had fought a daily battle to stop her overdoing things. She pretty much ignored them all and said that at nearly ninety she didn’t expect to have many more years left but wouldn’t spend her remaining time sitting around in a rocking chair. ‘I’m right with the Lord and when he’s ready for me I’m not gonna argue with his timin’.’

  Tom glanced away or she’d see the emotion filling his eyes with tears. Everything his grandmother said made complete sense but he couldn’t imagine life without her. He obeyed orders and saw to the coffee, adding plenty of cream but no sugar to both of their drinks. He set the cups on the table, sat down, stretched out his legs in front of him and waited.

  ‘Eat up, boy and we’ll talk after. We don’t want to curdle the icing.’

  He dug his fork into a massive slice of cake and savoured a mouthful of the soft yellow sponge covered in smooth caramel. This recipe was the downfall of many an amateur baker because the icing had to be stirred patiently and cooked at the perfect temperature for it to set. Tom remembered Gina’s hopeless attempts to recreate his favourite cake, the last of which resulted in him eating runny caramel icing with a spoon.

  ‘What’s wrong? You look as though your mind’s on the moon.’

  He dredged up a smile. ‘Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. It’s great.’

  ‘You know what happens to liars – remember Pinocchio.’

  Tom guessed he might as well tell her the truth or else she’d pick at him for the next hour. ‘Satisfied?’ he asked when he finished talking about Gina’s culinary disaster.

  ‘I guess your daddy was wrong.’

  ‘In what way?’

  His grandmother’s eyes narrowed, a sure sign Tom was about to get a rollicking.

  ‘He told me you’d met a decent girl and she’d shaken you out of your self-pitying mood.’

  Tom normally tried to argue the point with her but he didn’t bother. Recently he’d begun to see himself as others did and it wasn’t pretty.

  ‘Maybe this woman’s done you some good after all.’ Her satisfied tone made him wince. ‘You’re not answering back with your usual nonsense. It’s an improvement.’ Betty Mae blew on her hot coffee before taking a sip.

  He could never stay cross or miserable long around his grandmother. Mee Maw’s small, old-fashioned house tucked away here at the far end of the town behind the Presbyterian Church was always his refuge. When he’d been in a fight with one of his brothers or got on the wrong side of his parents her door was always open. She didn’t always side with him but by the time he’d vented his anger to her, been fed and listened to whatever advice she had to dole out things never seemed as bad.

  ‘I hoped you might’ve brought Miss Winter to meet me.’ The slight note of censure in her voice got to Tom because it was exactly what he’d planned to do before Fee got all mad at him. ‘You’ve done something idiotic to put the girl off, haven’t you?’

  She never hesitated to spell out her opinion in her plain-spoken way. Tom sighed and gave in. He launched into the whole sorry tale minus the motel incident.

  ‘I don’t get it, Mee Maw.’ He couldn’t hide his frustration any longer. ‘Fee agreed she didn’t believe in long-term commitment. She’s lived a nomadic life and has no desire to change. I told her I had my own reasons for not intending to marry again and she appeared to understand. I thought we were both good with being adult about the relationship.’

  His grandmother shook her head. ‘You’ve got no more sense than a bag of rocks. Which one of you put all that nonsense into words first anyway?’

  ‘I guess I did.’

  Betty Mae leaned back in the chair with a satisfied smile. ‘Enough said. She told you what she thought you wanted to hear and you fell for it like a typical dumb man.’

  ‘What am I goin’ to do?’ Tom pleaded and a broad grin spread across her face. There was nothing Mee Maw loved better than being asked for advice instead of having to force it on her stubborn family.

  The morning went well but Fee missed having someone to talk to about how it’d all gone. Be honest. You miss Tom, not just some random person to talk to. She’d taken a ton of great photos along the back roads between Pine Ridge and Norris and uploaded them to her laptop back at the cabin. She’d been particularly lucky and met a young couple at one of her stops. They’d bought the derelict building in an auction and shared with her their plans to renovate the old tobacco barn. The photos she’d taken of them in front of their future home were really eye-catching. Fee loved the contrast between the vibrant, attractive couple and the grey, worn-out building.

  She’d checked her emails at the cafe where she’d eaten lunch and received another from Allain with her flight details. Her misgivings about going to New Orleans were growing deeper at the idea of meeting Allain face-to-face. What could they possibly have in common? The few nights he spent with her mother forty years ago might have resulted in her birth but that hardly made him her father. Despite Tom’s irrational reaction Fee didn’t consider herself to be taking a big risk. She kept coming back in her mind as to why Allain was so keen to meet her but suspected she was overthinking the whole thing. Of course he was curious – who wouldn’t be? She’d done her research and there’d been no red flags surrounding Allain Dupre. He owned several high-end restaurants including the world-renowned Bayou Blues on the Louisiana Gulf coast, devastated by Hurricane Katrina but now ba
ck at the top of its game. He was a wealthy philanthropist and a member of one of New Orleans’ oldest families. He’d been recently widowed after a long marriage but she hadn’t seen any mention of children. She’d scrutinised several newspaper photos of him but they hadn’t told her much.

  They were both tall with lean, muscular body types but Fee didn’t have Allain’s startling emerald eyes. Her straight black hair was identical to her mother’s so his silver blonde waves hadn’t staked a claim there. Fee suspected she’d hoped to see either an unequivocal mirror image of herself or a man so radically different there was no way they could be related. Instead it was as ambiguous as these things usually were. Allain must want to know for certain as much as she did, but it was what they’d do with the knowledge that’d woken Fee up over the last few nights drenched in sweat.

  She needed Tom’s calm, quiet presence to help reassure her although yesterday he’d been far from his usual laid-back self and she still wasn’t sure what had set him off. Fee thought it might’ve been her comment after they made love. Like so many men he wanted things both ways: to mean something to a woman without meaning too much. Negotiating relationships was like tightrope walking without a safety net which was why Fee usually stuck to keeping men as good friends instead. If occasionally she chose to add “benefits” to the package it was her decision. She’d seen her mother fall in and out of love quicker than most Hollywood celebrities and had been determined not to follow suit.

  Fee calculated the time difference and picked up the phone.

  ‘Freebird!’ Her mother answered on the first ring. ‘Is everything alright?’

  ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?’ There was a barely perceptible hesitation before Maddy spoke again.

  ‘You don’t make a habit of ringing me, do you?’

  Fee wanted to be offended but it was the truth. ‘Can you tell me anything more about Allain Dupre because I’m flying to New Orleans to meet him tomorrow?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. Okay?’ She resented being challenged as if she was still a small child.

  ‘I’ve been having second thoughts. Maybe it’s not such a good idea.’

  ‘Why not? You were encouraging me before.’

  ‘I suppose it’s me being silly. Anyway I told you everything.’ Maddy hesitated. ‘You go and enjoy yourself.’ Fee got the distinct impression her mother wanted to say a lot more.

  After they said goodbye Fee plugged her phone in to recharge and walked outside to sit on the porch. She hoped she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tom wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and glanced around the small Knoxville airport. If his grandmother was wrong he was about to make the biggest fool of himself. He’d taken a chance and bought a seat on the earliest flight out of Knoxville to Charlotte and on to New Orleans. If Fee didn’t check in he’d be stumped.

  He’d worked non-stop all day and barely finished in time to shower and change and race to the airport. Of course he hadn’t been able to keep his plans quiet because he’d needed his family’s help and everyone had given him their two cents worth. In the end his younger sister, Rayna, who taught at a year round school and had a week off for their equivalent of the normal fall break, volunteered to help him out. She insisted that looking after a dozen or so guests would be easier than dealing with a classroom full of third-graders. At eight months’ pregnant she intended spending as much time as possible with her feet up. Her husband, Billy, would stay with her every night and all the way through the weekend plus his father promised to do frequent radio checks to make sure Rayna was okay.

  In the end they’d shooed him out after insisting they were perfectly capable of reading and following the ten pages of instructions he’d given them.

  Tom spotted Fee’s gleaming black hair and air of purpose as she strode down the hallway in his direction. He briefly considered sliding behind the pillar in case she hadn’t noticed him but stood his ground.

  ‘Please tell me you’re meeting someone or going anywhere other than New Orleans.’ For a few seconds Fee’s accusatory tone made him doubt his grandmother’s wisdom.

  No woman likes a dishonest man. Tell her where you stand and how you feel. After that it’s up to her.

  ‘That’d be a lie, sweetheart, and I’m not doin’ that any more.’ Tom’s heart thumped as her eyes flared with surprise. ‘How about we go on through security and find us a coffee shop?’

  ‘Fine,’ Fee snapped and hurried away, leaving him to follow along.

  It could’ve gone worse. She might have slapped you.

  After going through the usual rigmarole involved in travelling these days Tom led the way into a small cafe near their departure gate.

  ‘I’ll get our drinks if you tell me what you want.’ The disdainful look he received suggested she’d be more than happy if he bought a glass of poison and drank it down in one gulp. If this was a woman in love she sure had him fooled.

  ‘Water will be fine, thank you.’ Fee left him standing there and went to sit at a table in the corner, taking out her phone and not looking at him again.

  While he waited for their drinks to be fixed Tom watched her. As neat and self-contained as always, nothing about Fee suggested extreme emotion one way or the other. Tom guessed she used this outward persona while working along with her camera to keep a necessary distance between her and her subjects. The only way he’d get through to the real woman underneath was to break it down. Fee would make it as hard as possible but Tom was through with being a dismal coward.

  With an extra shot of espresso in his coffee he was ready. Bring it on, Fee Winter. You’ve met your match.

  The determined glint in Tom’s eye as he marched towards her, brandishing two cups, dried up the challenge she’d been about to make and Fee took the one he thrust at her without saying a word.

  ‘You want to know why I’m here and on your flight?’

  She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her one way or another but the corners of his mouth twitched. Plainly she hadn’t hidden her interest well enough. Damn the man.

  ‘Play it whatever way you like. I don’t care. I’ll tell you and if you want me to leave and not go to New Orleans with you I’ll respect your choice.’ A stony cast darkened his face. ‘I won’t like it, but I’m not goin’ where I’m not wanted.’

  Fee was intrigued by this new more forceful version of Tom.

  ‘I’ve been a moron. At least that’s what my grandmother called me when I told her about you.’

  She squashed down a smile.

  ‘You’ve stirred up feelings I didn’t expect to feel again and it scared me.’ His honesty took her breath away. ‘I’d mixed my guilt and grief over Gina with everything else. Might as well have been wearing a damn hair shirt.’ Tom’s angry scowl broke out the bubble of laughter hiding inside her and Fee giggled, gulping and struggling to breathe. He glared as though she’d stabbed him through the heart but all of a sudden his deep, rich chuckle filled the room and made everyone turn and stare. ‘Don’t do anything to make me feel better will you?’ Tom seized hold of her hands.

  From the first time he ever touched her there’d been something about his quiet, warm strength that spoke to her closed-off heart.

  ‘Tell me right now if I’m way off base.’ His bluntness touched her and Fee leaned in to kiss him. Tom sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ she whispered.

  ‘Good. I’m not sure how I would’ve stood it.’

  Fee swallowed hard. She needed to give him something in return. ‘I care for you, Tom, very much but I’m … scared. My mother fell in and out of so-called love at regular intervals and it never lasted. The closest I’ve come to trusting any man with my heart was Pierre and you know how that ended. I’m not a good bet for any man.’

  ‘I’ll take the odds I’m being offered. I’ve always been a gambling man. Me and my brothers love a good poker game. I buy
far too many lottery tickets and loved Las Vegas the one time I went.’

  ‘That only proves how little we know about each other,’ she joked. ‘I can’t even imagine you in Las Vegas let alone enjoying it.’

  ‘Hey, because I live in the backwoods of Tennessee doesn’t mean I’m an ignorant redneck.’ Tom’s effort to sound offended was belied by his cheeky smile. ‘I do get out of Pine Ridge occasionally and even own a passport.’

  ‘Wow, I’m impressed,’ Fee teased, knowing they’d strayed away from the difficult topic of love and she was happy to keep it that way a while longer.

  ‘You’re changin’ the subject, pretty lady.’ Tom’s voice turned serious and his deep-set eyes bored into her. ‘You’ve got a lot of love to share, Fee, we both do. Are you willing to give it a go and see what happens? I am if you are.’ The wobble in his voice betrayed the fact he wasn’t as assured as he might seem. A slow smile crept across Tom’s face when she nodded. ‘I promise you won’t regret it.’

  Pressing her fingers against his lips Fee shook her head. ‘Don’t promise me anything, that way I …’

  ‘Stop right there,’ he ordered, pulling back to glare at her again. ‘If I want to make you a promise I will and you can like it or lump it. I hope I’m an honourable man, Fee, and if you haven’t come across many of them before it’s not my fault.’

  Tears pricked at her eyes and she quickly apologised.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to yell.’

  ‘You didn’t. I …’

  He looked so contrite she could’ve kissed him. ‘All I was trying to say was that I promise never to deliberately hurt you.’ Uncertainty crept into his voice. ‘Is that enough for you?’

  Fee nodded. ‘I’m happy to promise the same, if that’s enough for you?’

  ‘Sure is.’ Tom beamed and seized hold of her, drawing them into a passionate kiss and sending tingles all through her body. He let go and glanced at his watch with a rueful sigh. ‘Darn. We need to go to the gate.’