Читать книгу Christmas Wishes: Christmas Letters / Rainy Day Kisses - Debbie Macomber - Страница 15

Chapter Six

K.O. had fun writing LaVonne’s Christmas letter. Compared to Bill Mulcahy’s, it was a breeze. Her friend was worried about how other people, people from her long-ago past, would react to the fact that she’d never married and lacked male companionship. K.O. took care of that.

Merry Christmas to my friends, K.O. began for LaVonne. This has been an exciting year as I juggle my time between Tom, Phillip and Martin, the three guys in my life. No one told me how demanding these relationships can be. Tom won my heart first and then I met Phillip and how could I refuse him? Yes, there’s a bit of jealousy, but they manage to be civil to each other. I will admit that things heated up after I started seeing Martin. I fell for him the minute we met.

I’m retired now, so I have plenty of time to devote to the demands of these relationships. Some women discover love in their twenties. But it took me until I was retired to fall into this kind of happiness. I lavish attention and love on all three guys. Those of you who are concerned that I’m taking on too much, let me assure you—I’m woman enough to handle them.

I love my new luxury condo on Blossom Street here in Seattle. And I’ve been continuing my education lately, enhancing my skills and exploring new vistas.

* * *

K.O. giggled, then glanced at her watch. The afternoon had escaped her. She hurriedly finished with a few more details of LaVonne’s year, including a wine-tasting trip to the Yakima Valley, and printed out a draft of the letter.

The meeting with Bill Mulcahy went well, and he paid her the balance of what he owed and thanked her profusely. “This is just perfect,” he said, reading the Christmas letter. “I wouldn’t have believed it, if I wasn’t seeing it for myself. You took the mess this year has been and turned it all around.”

K.O. was pleased her effort had met with his satisfaction.

LaVonne was waiting for her when she returned, the Christmas letter in hand. “Oh, Katherine, I don’t know how you do it. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. How can I ever thank you?”

“I had fun,” she assured her neighbor.

“I absolutely insist on paying you.”

“Are you kidding? No way.” After everything LaVonne had done for her, no thanks was necessary.

“I love it so much, I’ve already taken it down to the printer’s and had copies made on fancy Christmas paper. My cards are going out this afternoon, thanks to you.”

K.O. shrugged off her praise. After all, her friend had paid for her dinner with Wynn at Chez Jerome and been a good friend to her all these months. Writing a simple letter was the least she could do.

K.O. had been home only a short while when her doorbell chimed. Thinking it must be LaVonne, who frequently stopped by, she casually opened it, ready to greet her neighbor.

Instead Wynn Jeffries stood there.

K.O. wasn’t ready for their outing—or to see him again. She needed to steel herself against the attraction she felt toward him.

“Hi.” She sounded breathless.

“Katherine.”

“Hi,” she said again unnecessarily.

“I realize I’m early,” he said. “I have a radio interview at 5:30. My assistant arranged it earlier in the week and I forgot to enter it into my PDA.”

“Oh.” Here it was—the perfect excuse to avoid seeing him again. And yet she couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

He must’ve known, as she did, that any kind of relationship was a lost cause.

“That’s fine, I understand,” she told him, recovering quickly. “We can get together another time.” She offered this in a nonchalant manner, shrugging her shoulders, deciding this really was for the best.

His gaze held hers. “Perhaps you could come with me,” he said.

“Come with you?” she repeated and instantly recognized this as a bad idea. In fact, as bad ideas went, it came close to the top. She hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut in the bookstore and had been banned for life. If she had to listen to him spout off his views in person, K.O. didn’t know if she could restrain herself from grabbing the mike and pleading with people everywhere to throw out his book or use it for kindling. Nope, attending the interview with him was definitely not a good plan.

When she didn’t immediately respond, he said, “After the interview, we could go on to the Figgy Pudding thing you mentioned.”

She knew she should refuse. And yet, before she could reconsider it, she found herself nodding.

“I understand the radio station is only a few blocks from West Lake Plaza.”

“Yes...” Her mouth felt dry and all at once she was nervous.

“We’ll need to leave right away,” he said, looking at his watch.

“I’ll get my coat.” She was wearing blue jeans and a long black sweater—no need to change.

Wynn entered her condo and as she turned away, he stopped her, placing one hand on her arm.

K.O. turned back and was surprised to find him staring at her again. He seemed to be saying he wasn’t sure what was happening between them, either. Wasn’t sure what he felt or why... Then, as if he needed to test those feelings, he lowered his mouth to hers. Slowly, ever so slowly... K.O. could’ve moved away at any point. She didn’t. The biggest earthquake of the century could’ve hit and she wouldn’t have noticed. Not even if the building had come tumbling down around her feet. Her eyes drifted shut and she leaned into Wynn, ready—no, more than ready—eager to accept his kiss.

To her astonishment, it was even better than the night before. This couldn’t be happening and yet it was. Fortunately, Wynn’s hands were on her shoulders, since her balance had grown unsteady.

When he pulled away, it took her a long time to open her eyes. She glanced up at him and discovered he seemed as perplexed as she was.

“I was afraid of that,” he said.

She blinked, understanding perfectly what he meant. “Me, too.”

“It was as good as last night.”

“Better,” she whispered.

He cleared his throat. “If we don’t leave now, I’ll be late for the interview.”

“Right.”

Still, neither of them moved. Apparently all they were capable of doing was staring at each other. Wynn didn’t seem any happier about this than she was, and in some small way, that was a comfort.

K.O. forced herself to break the contact between them. She collected her coat and purse and was halfway to the door when she dashed into the bathroom. “I forgot my toothbrush,” she informed him.

He gave her a puzzled look. “You brush after every meal?” he asked.

“No, before.” She smiled sheepishly. “I mean, I didn’t yesterday, which is why I have to do it today.”

He didn’t question her garbled explanation as she dropped her toothbrush carrier and toothpaste inside her purse.

Once outside the building, Wynn walked at a fast pace as if he already had second thoughts. For her part, K.O. tried not to think at all. To protect everyone’s peace of mind, she’d decided to wait outside the building. It was safer that way.

By the time they arrived at the radio station, K.O. realized it was far too frigid to linger out in the cold. She’d wait in the lobby.

Wynn pressed his hand to the small of her back and guided her through the impressive marble-floored lobby toward the elevators.

“I’ll wait here,” she suggested. But there wasn’t any seating or coffee shop. If she stayed there, it would mean standing around for the next thirty minutes or so.

“I’m sure they’ll have a waiting area up at the station,” Wynn suggested.

He was probably right.

They took the elevator together, standing as far away from each other as possible, as though they both recognized the risk for potential disaster.

The interviewer, Big Mouth Bass, was a well-known Seattle disk jockey. K.O. had listened to him for years but this was the first time she’d seen him in person. He didn’t look anything like his voice. For one thing, he was considerably shorter than she’d pictured and considerably...rounder. If she had the opportunity, she’d share her toothbrush trick with him. It might help.

“Want to sit in for the interview?” Big Mouth asked.

“Thank you, no,” she rushed to say. “Dr. Jeffries and I don’t necessarily agree and—”

“No way.” Wynn’s voice drowned hers out.

Big Mouth was no fool. K.O. might’ve imagined it, but she thought a gleam appeared in his eyes. He hosted a live interview show, after all, and a little controversy would keep things lively.

“I insist,” Big Mouth said. He motioned toward the hallway that led to the control booth.

K.O. shook her head. “Thanks, anyway, but I’ll wait out here.”

“We’re ready for Dr. Jeffries,” a young woman informed the radio personality.

“I’ll wait here,” K.O. said again, and before anyone could argue, she practically threw herself into a chair and grabbed a magazine. She opened it and pretended to read, sighing with relief as Big Mouth led Wynn out of the waiting area. The radio in the room was tuned to the station, and a couple of minutes later, Big Mouth’s booming voice was introducing Wynn.

“I have with me Dr. Wynn Jeffries,” he began. “As many of you will recall, Dr. Jeffries’s book, The Free Child, advocates letting a child set his or her own boundaries. Explain yourself, Dr. Jeffries.”

“First, let me thank you for having me on your show,” Wynn said, and K.O. was surprised by how melodic he sounded, how confident and sincere. “I believe,” Wynn continued, “that structure is stifling to a child.”

“Any structure?” Big Mouth challenged.

“Yes, in my opinion, such rigidity is detrimental to a child’s sense of creativity and his or her natural ability to develop moral principles.” Wynn spoke eloquently, citing example after example showing how structure had a negative impact on a child’s development.

“No boundaries,” Big Mouth repeated, sounding incredulous.

“As I said, a child will set his or her own.”

Just listening to Wynn from her chair in the waiting room, K.O. had to sit on her hands.

“You also claim a parent should ignore inappropriate talk.”

“Absolutely. Children respond to feedback and when we don’t give them any, the undesirable action will cease.”

Big Mouth asked a question now and then. Just before the break, he said, “You brought a friend with you this afternoon.”

“Yes...” All the confidence seemed to leave Wynn’s voice.

“She’s in the waiting area, isn’t she?” Big Mouth continued, commenting more than questioning. “I gathered, during the few minutes in which I spoke to your friend, that she doesn’t agree with your child-rearing philosophy.”

“Yes, that’s true, but Katherine isn’t part of the interview.”

Big Mouth chuckled. “I thought we’d bring her in after the break and get her views on your book.”

“Uh...”

“Don’t go away, folks—this should be interesting. We’ll be right back after the traffic and weather report.”

On hearing this, K.O. tossed aside the magazine and started to make a run for the elevator. Unfortunately Big Mouth was faster than his size had led her to believe.

“I... I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said as he led her by the elbow to the control booth. “I’m sure Wynn would rather not...”

“Quite the contrary,” Big Mouth said smoothly, ushering her into the recording room, which was shockingly small. He sat her next to Wynn and handed her a headset. “You’ll share a mike with Dr. Jeffries. Be sure to speak into it and don’t worry about anything.”

After the traffic report, Big Mouth was back on the air.

“Hello, Katherine,” he said warmly. “How are you this afternoon?”

“I was perfectly fine until a few minutes ago,” she snapped.

Big Mouth laughed. “Have you read Dr. Jeffries’s book?”

“No. Well, not really.” She leaned close to the microphone.

“You disagree with his philosophies, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She dared not look at Wynn, but she was determined not to embarrass him the way she had in the French Café. Even if they were at odds about the validity of his Free Child movement, he didn’t deserve to be publicly humiliated.

“Katherine seems to believe I’m taking Christmas away from children,” Wynn blurted out. “She’s wrong, of course. I have a short chapter in the book that merely suggests parents bury the concept of Santa.”

“You want to bury Santa?” Even Big Mouth took offense at that, K.O. noticed with a sense of righteousness.

“My publisher chose the chapter title and against my better judgment, I let it stand. Basically, all I’m saying is that it’s wrong to lie to a child, no matter how good one’s intentions.”

“He wants to get rid of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny, too,” K.O. inserted.

“That doesn’t make me a Jim Carrey,” Wynn said argumentatively. “I’m asking parents to be responsible adults. That’s all.”

“What does it hurt?” K.O. asked. “Childhood is a time of make-believe and fairy tales and fun. Why does everything have to be so serious?”

“Dr. Jeffries,” Big Mouth cut in. “Could you explain that comment about Jim Carrey?”

“I called him that,” K.O. answered on his behalf. “I meant to say the Grinch. You know, like in How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Jim Carrey was in the movie,” she explained helplessly.

Wynn seemed eager to change the subject. He started to say something about the macabre character of fairy tales and how they weren’t “fun,” but Big Mouth cut him off.

“Ah, I see,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “You two have a love/hate relationship. That’s what’s really going on here.”

K.O. looked quickly at Wynn, and he glared back. The “hate” part might be right, but there didn’t seem to be any “love” in the way he felt about her.

“Regrettably, this is all the time we have for today,” Big Mouth told his audience. “I’d like to thank Dr. Jeffries for stopping by this afternoon and his friend Katherine, too. Thank you both for a most entertaining interview. Now for the news at the top of the hour.”

Big Mouth flipped a switch and the room went silent. So silent, in fact, that K.O. could hear her heart beat.

“We can leave now,” Wynn said stiffly after removing his headphones.

Hers were already off. K.O. released a huge pent-up sigh. “Thank goodness,” she breathed.

Wynn didn’t say anything until they’d entered the elevator.

“That was a disaster,” he muttered.

K.O. blamed herself. She should never have accompanied him to the interview. She’d known it at the time and still couldn’t resist. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on the air with you.”

“You weren’t given much choice,” he said in her defense.

“I apologize if I embarrassed you. That wasn’t my intention. I tried not to say anything derogatory—surely you could see that.”

He didn’t respond and frankly, she didn’t blame him.

“The thing is, Katherine, you don’t respect my beliefs.”

“I don’t,” she reluctantly agreed.

“You couldn’t have made it any plainer.” The elevator doors opened and they stepped into the foyer.

“Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t see each other again.” K.O. figured she was only saying what they were both thinking.

Wynn nodded. She could sense his regret, a regret she felt herself.

They were outside the building now. The street was festive with lights, and Christmas music could be heard from one of the department stores. At the moment, however, she felt anything but merry.

The Figgy Pudding contest, which was sponsored by the Pike Market Senior Center and Downtown Food Bank as an annual fund-raiser, would’ve started by now and, although she didn’t feel the least bit like cheering, she’d promised Vickie she’d show up and support her efforts for charity.

K.O. thrust out her hand and did her utmost to smile. “Thank you, Wynn. Last night was one of the most incredible evenings of my life,” she said. “Correction. It was the most incredible night ever.”

Wynn clasped her hand. His gaze held hers as he said, “It was for me, too.”

People were stepping around them.

She should simply walk away. Vickie would be looking for her. And yet...she couldn’t make herself do it.

“Goodbye,” he whispered.

Her heart was in her throat. “Goodbye.”

He dropped his hand, turned and walked away. His steps were slow, measured. He’d gone about five feet when he glanced over his shoulder. K.O. hadn’t moved. In fact, she stood exactly as he’d left her, biting her lower lip—a habit she had when distressed. Wynn stopped abruptly, his back still to her.

“Wynn, listen,” she called and trotted toward him. “I have an idea.” Although it’d only been a few feet, she felt as if she was setting off on a marathon.

“What?” He sounded eager.

“I have twin nieces.”

He nodded. “You mentioned them earlier. Their mother read my book.”

“Yes, and loved it.”

There was a flicker of a smile. “At least someone in your family believes in me.”

“Yes, Zelda sure does. She thinks you’re fabulous.” K.O. realized she did, too—aside from his theories. “My sister and her husband are attending his company Christmas dinner next Friday, the fifteenth,” she rushed to explain. “Zelda asked me to spend the night. Come with me. Show me how your theories should work. Maybe Zelda’s doing it wrong. Maybe you can convince me that the Free Child movement makes sense.”

“You want me to come with you.”

“Yes. We’ll do everything just as you suggest in your book, and I promise not to say a word. I’ll read it this week, I’ll listen to you and I’ll observe.”

Wynn hesitated.

“Until then, we won’t mention your book or anything else to do with your theories.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she concurred.

“No more radio interviews?”

She laughed. “That’s an easy one.”

A smile came to him then, appearing in his eyes first. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Yes, she did, and K.O. could hardly wait to introduce Zoe and Zara to Dr. Wynn Jeffries. Oh, she was sincere about keeping an open mind, but Wynn might learn something, too. The incorrigible twins would be the true crucible for his ideas.

K.O. held out her hand. “Are you ready for some Figgy Pudding?” she asked.

He grinned, taking her mittened hand as they hurried toward the Figgy Pudding People’s Choice competition.