Читать книгу Christmas in Seattle: Christmas Letters / The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber - Страница 12

K.O.’s doorbell chimed, breaking into a satisfying dream. Whatever it was about seemed absolutely wonderful and she hated to lose it. When the doorbell rang again, the sound longer and more persistent, the dream disappeared. She stumbled out of bed and threw on her flannel housecoat.

Reaching the door, she checked the peephole and saw that it was LaVonne. No surprise there. Unfastening the lock, K.O. let her in, covering a yawn.

“What time did you get home last night?” her neighbor cried as she hurried in without a cat—which was quite unusual. “I waited up as long as I could for you.” LaVonne’s voice was frantic. “I didn’t sleep a wink all night,” she said and plopped herself down on the sofa.

K.O. was still at the front door, holding it open. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Should I make coffee?” LaVonne asked, leaping to her feet and flipping on the light as she swept into the kitchen. Not waiting for a response, she pulled out the canister where K.O. kept her coffee grounds.

K.O. yawned again and closed the front door. “What time is it?” Early, she knew, because her eyes burned and there was barely a hint of daylight through her living room windows.

“Seven-twenty. I didn’t get you up, did I?”

“No, I had to answer the door anyway.” Her friend was busy preparing coffee and didn’t catch the joke. “How are the guys?” K.O. asked next. LaVonne usually provided her with daily updates on their health, well-being and any cute activities they’d engaged in.

“They’re hiding,” she said curtly. “All three of them.” She ran water into the glass pot and then poured it in the coffeemaker.

Katherine wondered why the cats were in a snit but didn’t have the energy to ask.

“You haven’t answered my question,” LaVonne said as the coffee started to drip. She placed two mugs on the counter.

“Which one?” K.O. fell into a kitchen chair, rested her arms on the table and leaned her head on them.

“Last night,” LaVonne said. “Where were you?”

“Wynn and I were out—”

“All night?”

“You’re beginning to sound like my mother,” K.O. protested.

LaVonne straightened her shoulders. “Katherine, you hardly know the man.”

“I didn’t sleep with him, if that’s what you think.” She raised her head long enough to speak and then laid it down on her arms again. “We went out to dinner with some friends of mine after the Figgy Pudding contest.”

“It must’ve been a very late dinner.” LaVonne sounded as if she didn’t quite believe her.

“We walked around for a while afterward and went out for a drink. The time got away from us. I didn’t get home until one.”

“I was up at one and you weren’t home,” LaVonne said in a challenging tone. She poured the first cup of coffee and took it herself.

“Maybe it was after two, then,” K.O. said. She’d completely lost track of time, which was easy to do. Wynn was so charming and he seemed so interested in her and her friends.

Vickie’s husband, John, was a plumbing contractor. Despite Wynn’s college degrees and celebrity status, he’d fit in well with her friends. He’d asked intelligent questions, listened and shared anecdotes about himself that had them all laughing. John even invited Wynn to play poker with him and his friends after the holidays. Wynn had accepted the invitation.

Halfway through the meal Vickie had announced that she had to use the ladies’ room. The look she shot K.O. said she should join her, which K.O. did.

“That’s really Wynn Jeffries?” she asked, holding K.O.’s elbow as they made their way around tables and through the restaurant.

“Yes, it’s really him.”

“Does he know about the bookstore?”

K.O. nodded reluctantly. “He does now.”

“You didn’t tell him, did you?”

“Unfortunately, he found out all on his own.”

Vickie pushed open the door to the ladies’ as K.O. described the scene from the bookstore. “No way,” her friend moaned, then promptly sank down on a plush chair in the outer room.

K.O.’s face grew red all over again. “It was embarrassing, to say the least.”

“Was Wynn upset?”

What could he say? “He didn’t let on if he was.” In fact, once they’d left the store, Wynn seemed to find the incident highly amusing. Had their roles been reversed, she didn’t know how she would’ve felt.

“He didn’t blow up at you or anything?” Vickie had given her a confused look. “This is the guy you think should be banned from practicing as a psychologist?”

“Well, that might’ve been a bit strong,” she’d said, reconsidering her earlier comment.

Vickie just shook her head.

“He rode the merry-go-round with me,” K.O. said aloud, deciding that had gone a long way toward redeeming him in her eyes. When she glanced up, she realized she was talking to LaVonne.

“He did what?” LaVonne asked, bringing her back to the present.

“Wynn did,” she elaborated. “He rode the carousel with me.”

“Until two in the morning?”

“No, before dinner. Afterward, we walked along the waterfront, then had a glass of wine. We started walking again and finally stopped for coffee at an all-night diner and talked some more.” He seemed to want to know all about her, but in retrospect she noticed that he’d said very little about himself.

“Good grief,” LaVonne muttered, shaking her head, “what could you possibly talk about for so long?”

“That’s just it,” K.O. said. “We couldn’t stop talking.” And it was even more difficult to stop kissing and to say good-night once they’d reached her condo. Because there was so much more to say, they’d agreed to meet for coffee at the French Café at nine.

LaVonne had apparently remembered that Katherine didn’t have any coffee yet and filled her mug. “Just black,” K.O. told her, needing a shot of unadulterated caffeine. “Thanks.

“Why were you waiting up for me?” she asked after her first bracing sip of coffee. Then and only then did her brain clear, and she understood that LaVonne must have something important on her mind.

“You wrote that fantastic Christmas letter for me,” her neighbor reminded her.

“I did a good job, didn’t I?” she said.

“Oh, yes, a good job all right.” LaVonne frowned. “I liked it so much, I mailed it right away.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Well…” LaVonne sat down in the chair across from K.O. “It was such a relief to have something clever and…and exciting to tell everyone,” LaVonne said, “especially my college friends.”

So far, K.O. didn’t see any problem at all. She nodded, encouraging her friend to get to the point.

LaVonne’s shoulders sagged. “If only I’d waited,” she moaned. “If only I’d picked up my own mail first.”

“There was something in the mail?”

LaVonne nodded. “I got a card and a Christmas letter from Peggy Solomon. She was the president of my college sorority and about as uppity as they come. She married her college boyfriend, a banker’s son. She had two perfect children and lives a life of luxury. She said she’s looking forward to seeing me at our next reunion.” There was a moment of stricken silence. “Peggy’s organizing it, and she included the invitation with her card.”

“That’s bad?”

“Yes,” LaVonne wailed. “It’s bad. How am I supposed to show up at my forty-year college reunion, which happens to be in June, without a man? Especially now. Because of my Christmas letter, everyone in my entire class will think I’ve got more men than I know what to do with.”

“LaVonne, you might meet someone before then.”

“If I haven’t met a man in the last forty years, what makes you think I will in the next six months?”

“Couldn’t you say it’s such a tricky balancing act you don’t dare bring any of them?”

LaVonne glared at her. “Everyone’ll figure out that it’s all a lie.” She closed her eyes. “And if they don’t, Peggy’s going to make sure she tells them.”