Читать книгу Baby On The Run - Kate Little, Kate Little - Страница 8

Chapter Four

The family gathering was just as Ben had described it. Maybe even bigger and noisier, Carey thought, with everyone talking, eating and laughing at once.

Carey knew that if she hadn’t felt the gentle pressure of Ben’s hand on her back, guiding her into the dining room, she would have made some polite excuse and run back upstairs again.

Thea’s guests sat at a long table that stretched from one end of the large room to the other. The room was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with arrangements of red-and-white roses mixed with holly and trailing ivy, white candles of various sizes, glowing everywhere, and a large Christmas tree at the room’s far end, surrounded by piles of gifts.

A gang of children, too excited to eat, ran around chasing each other. They had clearly started the day in their best clothes, but now shirttails were flapping, satin sashes were trailing and ponytails had come undone.

They looked as if they were having a great time, as children know how to do instinctively at these kinds of parties. Before too long the baby in her arms would be running with the pack, Carey thought wistfully. Though they would not be part of any big holiday reunions like this one.

Thea had saved seats for Carey and Ben, and also set up a high chair for the baby. Ben led them to their places and they sat down. He introduced Carey to those seated nearby, mostly married cousins and aunts, from what Carey could gather. She tried hard but couldn’t keep all the names straight in her head.

Everyone seemed very welcoming and there was a great deal of talk about the snowfall, their different routes traveling to Greenbriar, and about the dinner, which emerged slowly from the kitchen, each course more delicious than the next.

It seemed that Ben’s sister, Luanne, had prepared the entire meal and was busy working in the kitchen throughout the festivities.

The menu was extensive—with a salad course, roast goose, baked ham and beef tenderloin, all kinds of side dishes, garlic mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes and corn bread stuffing. There were platters of roast vegetables, asparagus, stuffed mushrooms and string beans with almonds.

Carey hoped the chef would emerge at some point. She wanted to meet the talent behind such a wonderful Christmas feast. She did see Ben’s mother, Thea, running in and out of the swinging doors, carrying out more and more dishes laden with food.

Carey didn’t feel pressured to socialize and mostly sat quietly, just watching everyone. It was a lively, warm gathering and she thought Ben was lucky to be part of such a big family. It was something she’d missed growing up and missed in her life now, too.

Ben sat on her left, talking mostly to a cousin about his own age named Jeff, who sat across the table. Jeff was a lawyer who lived in Connecticut. He and Ben seemed to have a good rapport.

Carey was seated across from Jeff’s wife, Alice, a friendly blonde in her mid-thirties. She was busy keeping her eye on their three children, and didn’t bother Carey with too many personal questions. Carey was able to answer with the cover stories she’d told Ben.

Until, as Alice passed a platter of roast goose, she said, “So, how long have you and Ben been dating?”

A mouthful of corn bread caught in Carey’s throat. She blinked and smiled.

“We aren’t dating. I just met Ben last night. On the road. I had a car accident and he stopped to help me.”

Carey carefully omitted the part about how she stayed over at Ben’s house. That would only give Alice the wrong impression…again.

“Oh, that’s too bad. About your accident, I mean.” Alice cast her a sympathetic look, but also seemed as if she didn’t quite believe that Carey and Ben were not romantically involved.

Carey could hardly blame her. She supposed to the rest of the party, they did look like a couple. They’d walked in together and were now seated side by side, with Ben’s arm slung around the back of her chair in a familiar way, and he’d also just taken Lindsay into his lap so Carey could finish her dinner.

Alice’s look seemed to say that maybe Carey didn’t think they were involved…but they were.

One of Alice’s little boys ran up to her to ask a question, interrupting the adult conversation. Carey was relieved. But suddenly she felt self-conscious. Did everyone here think she was Ben’s girlfriend?

She suddenly wanted to tap the side of her glass, stand up and announce a disclaimer. “Hey, everyone…just so you know, Ben and I are not dating. We just met last night…at a car accident.”

Then she felt silly. Did it matter what Ben’s family thought? It would only really matter to him. After she left. He probably only saw these relatives once or twice a year anyway and most likely, didn’t care what they thought about his social life.

She also knew, someplace deep inside, she was cooperating with this mistaken impression.

How easy it would be to slip into that role of his girlfriend, his romantic partner. And it was Christmas. And they were both alone. So perhaps playing this pretend game for the day was a harmless but helpful way for each of them to get through the holiday?

Ben’s sister, Luanne, finally emerged, wearing kitchen whites—a chef’s white jacket, and work pants. She was tall, with a full, shapely figure. She looked a few years younger than Ben and shared his good looks. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she also had the trademark Martin blue eyes, Carey noticed.