1225 Christmas Tree Lane (13 page)

“Who'd be calling on Christmas Eve?” Bobby Polgar asked when Teri hung up the phone. It was after dinner, and the children were—finally—all snug in their beds.

“Beth Morehouse,” Teri said. “She wants to know if it would be all right if she dropped the puppy off tonight instead of in the morning.” Actually, it sounded as though Beth needed to get out of the house.

“What did you tell her?”

“I said come on over.”

Bobby glanced into the family room, where he had three scooter-riders out of the boxes ready for assembling. The triplets were eight months old now and crawl
ing. Robbie, the firstborn, was already standing on his own. Teri figured he'd be walking soon; the boy was fearless. Little Jimmy, the middle child and the smallest, was content to continue crawling, and Christopher, the youngest by a couple of minutes, loved sitting on the floor, banging pots and pans. Bobby felt sure their son was destined to be a drummer.

“I asked James to give me a hand assembling these,” Bobby admitted a bit sheepishly.

“You'll do fine.” Her husband might be a chess genius, but he didn't excel in certain other areas—like household repairs. Or “assembly required” toys.

“Are the boys down for the night?” Bobby asked.

Teri nodded, too exhausted for a detailed description of what it took to get all three to fall asleep at roughly the same time. Their nanny had the next two days off to spend the holidays with her family, and it felt like she'd been gone for a month. Teri's sister, Christie, had agreed to help make Christmas dinner and look after the triplets.

“Come and sit with me,” Bobby said, holding his arm out to Teri.

She sat beside him on the sofa and laid her head on his shoulder. Bobby was semi-retired these days, following the birth of his sons, and Teri was grateful. Bobby and his best friend, James, had developed a chess-based
computer game that consumed a great deal of their time, since they were now working on the second version. Still, Teri was glad to have her husband at home instead of on the road.

Closing her eyes, she remembered how she'd met Bobby Polgar. It had definitely been an unusual introduction…. He was in a championship chess match in Seattle and to everyone's shock he was losing. The chess world was aghast that the great Bobby Polgar could be toppled. One look at the chess player on the TV screen told Teri what his problem was. Bobby was distracted by his hair, which was too long and kept flopping in his eyes. He needed a cut.

In retrospect she was astonished that Security had let her through to see him. When she explained why she'd come, Bobby had stared at her as if she was some kind of lunatic, but he'd allowed her to trim his hair. Then she'd quietly left. Bobby had gone on to win the match and afterward he'd sought her out. Crazy as it sounded, that was how it all began.

She wasn't quite sure when she fell in love with him. In the beginning, she'd fought against having any feelings for this man. Really, what could come of it? She was a hairdresser from a little backwater town and Bobby Polgar was a champion chess player admired by the whole
world. He might be infatuated with her for a while, but his affection would quickly wane. She'd bore him, and Bobby would soon grow tired of her.

Talk about an odd couple! But fall in love with him she did, despite her efforts not to. And when she fell, she fell hard.

She'd questioned why an intellectual like him—a celebrity to boot—would love someone like her. He'd said that she brought emotion into his life, that he liked her practical and intuitive approach, that she'd taught him how to
feel.

Before that tournament in Seattle, every minute of Bobby's life had been involved with chess. He lived, breathed and slept chess. It was all he thought about, all he cared about…until he fell in love with her.

“You're smiling,” Bobby said now, brushing the hair off her forehead almost as if she were a child.

“I was remembering our honeymoon.” They got married in Las Vegas. Bobby had been in a chess competition there, and they were given the most luxurious penthouse suite in the hotel. The morning after their wedding night, Bobby had to leave for a chess match. Teri had stayed in bed and turned on the television to watch her husband play.

She knew from the first move he made that his mind
wasn't on the game. He was thinking about
her,
thinking about coming back to the room and making love to her again. Then something happened; she could almost see the transformation taking place…. His expression changed. Even his posture changed. Bobby had realized that the sooner he won, the sooner he could return to their room. His focus, his attention, went straight into the game. His opponent didn't stand a chance. The poor man lost in record time. A second later, Bobby popped out of his seat and raced for the elevator, the camera crew on his heels.

Teri had been waiting for him….

The doorbell chimed and Teri sighed, not wanting to leave the comfort of her husband's arms and the warm memories that had wrapped themselves around her. She started to get up, but Bobby stopped her.

“I'll get it.”

As Bobby was rising to his feet she slipped her hand around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers for a lengthy kiss. They broke it off when the doorbell chimed again.

Bobby's glasses were askew and his face flushed by the time he moved away from her. He cleared his throat. “You need to warn me before you do that,” he muttered.

“Okay, I will,” she said, smiling up at him. “That was just to say how much I love you.”

Bobby cleared his throat again and gave her a small, crooked smile. He never quite knew how to respond when she mentioned love. “Thank you,” he whispered, then hurried to the door.

In a minute he was back with Christie and James. They were another odd couple, Teri mused. When she'd first met James Wilbur, she hadn't known what to think of the tall, exceptionally thin man who served as Bobby's driver. It wasn't until much later that she discovered James was Bobby's dearest friend. He'd been a chess prodigy like Bobby, but James had suffered a breakdown caused by all the pressure. He'd disappeared from the public eye and been forgotten by everyone except Bobby. Her husband refused to abandon his friend, so he'd hired James as his driver. For years no one had recognized Bobby's chauffeur as the teenager who'd made chess history along with Bobby Polgar.

As soon as James met Christie, he fell for her. Teri hated to be the one to tell him, but her younger sister came with plenty of baggage, just like she had. To her complete surprise, Christie had fallen in love with James. Their relationship had been a series of stops and starts, had taken a number of unexpected turns. But in the end Christie had dumped the losers who'd taken advantage of her, gone back to school and straightened out her life.

A year ago, over Christmas, she'd split up with James. A story in the press had identified him as James Gardner, the prodigy who'd disappeared. It might not have been such a big news item if not for the fact that he'd still been part of the chess world all that time. He hadn't played in years, not since his collapse, but he enjoyed belonging to that world. Christie hadn't been able to tolerate his deception, his inability to trust her with his secret. Eventually, however, they'd reconciled and their estrangement had led them to a greater understanding of each other.

Teri realized James was like Bobby, in that chess was all he knew. He'd acknowledged he no longer wanted to play high-pressure big-money chess, but liked being close to the game—and close to the one friend he could count on, Bobby Polgar.

“We're here to help with the kids' Christmas gifts,” Christie announced.

“Wonderful.” Teri patted the empty space next to her on the sofa. “We'll let the men put together these toys while you and I visit.”

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Christie said. “By the way, the house looks gorgeous.” She gestured at the candles arranged on the fireplace mantel and at the
Christmas tree, its lights reflected in the picture window overlooking Puget Sound.

Falling in love had changed Christie, just as it'd changed Teri. The hard edges of her personality had softened. She'd proven to herself she could get whatever she wanted as long as she worked hard and persevered. Christie had recently graduated from Olympic Community College, and she planned to start her own business, photographing the contents of houses for insurance purposes. Teri was proud of her little sister.

“I heard from Johnny this afternoon,” she told Christie. Johnny was their younger brother. He was in school, attending the University of Washington. “He'll come over for dinner tomorrow. With his new girlfriend.” Johnny never lacked for girlfriends, but he hadn't met anyone who was going to change
his
life. Not yet.

Teri had been more of a mother to him than their own. Another memory floated into Teri's mind. Soon after she'd married Bobby, Teri had made a huge dinner and invited her family to the house to meet her husband.

Sadly, her mother had arrived half-drunk, and from the moment Ruth stepped through the door, she did nothing but find fault with Teri.

Bobby wasn't about to let his mother-in-law insult his wife and had handled the situation in a firm, yet subtle
way. He'd wordlessly picked up Ruth's purse and set it by the front door, indicating it was time for her to leave. Ruth had immediately taken offense and, dragging her fourth—or was it fifth?—husband, she'd stomped out.

“James, what do they mean by a flat-head screwdriver?” Bobby and James sat on the family room floor with the pieces of one scooter scattered about the room. Bobby held out the instruction sheet, frowning at the diagrams. Then he turned it upside down before turning it right side up again.

“I didn't know there was more than one kind of screwdriver,” James confessed.

“You learn something new every day, right?”

“Right,” James agreed.

“I'll get a flat-head screwdriver for you,” Teri said, sliding off the sofa.

Bobby gazed up at her as if she were the most brilliant woman who'd ever lived. “You have one?”

“That and a Phillips and a square tip…” She went to the kitchen drawer and returned with the required screwdriver.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked, handing it to him.

“Uh…” He showed her the instruction sheet. “Can
you tell me what I'm supposed to do with that?” He pointed to the drawing of a part.

“Teri,” Christie said, getting up from the sofa. “It looks like these two are going to need a bit of assistance.”

“Looks that way,” she concurred.

“We can do this,” Bobby insisted.

“Yeah,” James echoed, but without much conviction.

“Do you want them to help us?” Bobby asked his friend.

James regarded Christie, and then Teri. “I don't think it would hurt. What about you?”

“I don't need help,” Bobby said, “but if Teri wants to volunteer I won't stop her.”

Teri and Christie exchanged an eye-rolling glance.

All of them were on the floor when the doorbell chimed yet again.

“That'll be Beth Morehouse,” Teri said.

“Oh, were you expecting her?” Christie asked. “Why's she here?”

“Delivering a puppy,” she said on her way to the door.

“Teri, don't tell me you and Bobby are getting a puppy!” Christie called after her.

“No,” James answered on her behalf. “We are.”

“James!” Christie yelped. “Isn't this something you should've discussed with me first?”

“Well…”

Before he could respond, Teri walked into the living room, followed by her guest. Beth held a basket—with a small black puppy staring out. The little creature wore a pink bow that contrasted with its glossy fur.

“Oh, she's adorable.”

“Yes, and she's all yours,” James told her. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas,” Christie said, her voice choked.

“Why are you crying?” James asked, drawing his wife into his arms.

“I…I always wanted a…dog.”

“I know.”

Christie threw her arms around James's neck.

Teri took the basket out of Beth's arms. “Thank you so much for bringing over the puppy.”

“I was happy to,” Beth said. “I know this little girl will have a wonderful home, so thank
you.
”

“Our pleasure,” Christie murmured.

James kissed her forehead. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said again. “I thought we could name her Chessie.”

“Chessie! Of course.” Christie laughed.

“You'll get your gift later,” she promised in a husky voice.

James turned three shades of red. “I'll hold you to that,” he said. “Now come and meet your dog.”

After dropping off the puppy at the Polgars', Beth headed back to her house on Christmas Tree Lane. She'd enjoyed her brief visit with Bobby and Teri and James and Christie. The two couples were obviously devoted to one another. Watching them all working together, assembling toys for the triplets, reminded Beth of those early years with Kent. Finances had been tight back then, but they'd managed; their happiness had more than compensated for the luxuries they'd done without. She missed those times, and yes, she missed Kent, too.

On the way home Beth felt empty inside. For three
years she'd pretended she was happy. Pretended she'd rather live her life without Kent. It'd all been a lie.

And now it was too late.

The girls would be getting ready for evening services at the church and the three of them would arrive together. Kent had said he might attend, as well, but she knew he'd sit with Danielle, not with Beth and the girls. That made sense, but it was another blow she wasn't ready to deal with.

While waiting at a red light, she saw the open sign at Mocha Mama's. Because she didn't want to return home until she'd regained control of her emotions, she decided to go in. Stopping for a quick cup of coffee would give her a chance to sort through her feelings, to better understand what was happening and accept the reality that she had lost Kent for good. The life they'd once had was truly over.

She pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine. Sitting in the car, she pressed her hand over her eyes as unfamiliar and unwelcome emotions swirled through her. This Christmas was nothing like she'd anticipated. For weeks she'd looked forward to her children's visit. She'd carefully planned events, shopped, wrapped gifts, cooked their favorite meals. What she realized now was that she'd done it for Kent, too. Since he was coming to
Cedar Cove for the holiday, she'd wanted to remind him of what they'd had. Of everything that was gone now, but could…perhaps…be recovered. She hadn't even acknowledged this to herself. Not really.

What made it all so impossible was Danielle. Facing the ghosts of Christmas past, back when she and Kent were so much in love, only depressed her now.

When Beth entered the coffee shop, she saw that it was nearly deserted. A teenager stood behind the counter, playing a handheld game. He didn't seem to notice he had a customer.

“Hello! I'd like a decaf Americano,” she said briskly.

Startled, the kid glanced up. He blinked and reluctantly set aside his game. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks.” She paid, adding a nice Christmas tip, and waited for her coffee.

A couple of minutes later he delivered it in a to-go cup, which was fine, although she wasn't in any rush to leave. Carrying it with her, she chose a table by the window, one that overlooked Harbor Street.

She gazed out at the serene and yet festive view of the town's main street. Garlands were strung across it. Silver bells dangled from the lampposts, and the town had never seemed more inviting. A light dusting of snow glistened on the large Christmas tree, which blinked
red and green lights, outside city hall, while Christmas carols were broadcast from the bell tower.

“I wondered if that was your car outside.”

Stunned by the familiar voice, Beth turned. Kent stood next to her small table, although she hadn't seen him come in.

“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

“I decided to take a drive—”

“Where's your friend? Danielle?” she interrupted.

“At the Thyme and Tide. Resting. And, Beth, she really is a friend.”

Sure she was. Ex-husbands usually traveled with
friends.
But apparently the headache was real.

“She took a couple of aspirin and is lying down.”

Beth cupped her hands around the paper cup, the heat of the coffee stinging her palms. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“She'll be fine.” Without waiting for an invitation, Kent pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

“You want a coffee, sir?” the kid behind the counter called out.

“Sure. I'll have whatever she's having,” he said.

“You got it,” Mr. Gameboy said with a promptness he hadn't demonstrated earlier. Maybe her generous tip had something to do with it.

“You looked deep in thought when I walked in,” Kent said, relaxing against the back of the chair. He extended his legs into the aisle, crossing them at the ankles. He seemed so comfortable, so calm, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Beth stared at her ex-husband, unable to grasp how he could remain so unaffected by what had happened between them.

Perhaps Beth was the only one who had regrets, who wanted to examine the reasons their marriage had failed. What did it matter, anyway? she reflected darkly. Kent was with Danielle. He'd moved on, and she should, too.

“Beth?” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

She looked over at him, wondering what he'd just said.

“You worried about something?”

“Of course not,” she said, forcing a brightness into her voice. “Why would you think that?”

“You never were much of a liar.”

Beth shrugged, knowing it was true.

“Why are you out here, anyway?”

“I dropped off a puppy. A Christmas gift.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to explain why she hadn't gone directly home. If she knew the answer to
that question, she wouldn't be sipping blistering hot coffee and feeling as if the entire world was against her.

“So, how long have you and Ted been…friends?”

“Oh, for some time now.”

“Is it serious?”

“No.” She managed a nonchalant smile. “Perhaps I should've clarified that. I routinely see Ted on a professional basis—and yes, we've been out socially.” She didn't mention the few kisses they'd shared because, frankly, it wasn't any of his business. When it came to
his
friend, she'd rather not know.

“But it could develop into something serious?” he asked.

This was even more difficult to answer. “I suppose. If we both wanted it to.”

“And do you?”

She stared down into her coffee to avoid looking at him.

“No.” Then she quickly shook her head. “Well, maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeated slowly.

“It depends.”

“On what?” he prodded.

Beth straightened. “I'd rather not talk about Ted and me. I didn't ask you about Danielle.”

“True.” He nodded. “All right, what
do
you want to talk about?”

“Do we need to talk about anything?”

He hesitated. “I guess not.”

The kid brought over Kent's coffee and he paid for it. He was about to take his first sip when Beth warned him, “Careful, it's hot.”

Kent sipped his coffee guardedly and grimaced. “You're right.”

Beth took another sip of her own coffee, which had cooled slightly. “The puppy I delivered—it was to the Polgars.”

“Polgar. That's an unusual name. As in Bobby Polgar, the chess champion?”

“Yes, he lives in Cedar Cove.”

“Bobby Polgar lives here?” Kent arched his brows, clearly impressed.

“His wife is, or rather was, a local hairdresser. She's a wonderful, wonderful person.”

“You mean to tell me Bobby Polgar married a beautician?” Kent grinned, as if the idea amused him.

“Don't say it like that. Teri's perfect for Bobby and now they have triplet sons….”

“And they took a puppy?”

“Actually, no. The puppy was for Teri's sister.”

“What did you want to say about the Polgars?” Kent asked.

“I…I was remembering how it was with us when the girls were little.”

“We talked about that earlier.”

“We did,” she agreed. “Those early Christmases, the basement apartment, those silly gingerbread decorations I sewed.”

“What you're really saying is that you wonder what happened to us.”

So Kent was the one brave enough to lay it on the table, the subject neither of them had been willing to broach until now.

Beth suppressed the urge to say it was too late. All of a sudden, she didn't want to dig up the past anymore, a past that was full of hurts and slights committed on both sides. If they dug too deep, she didn't know what they might uncover. Anyway, what was the point? They weren't together anymore. He had a new life and so did she.

Another part of her, the more rational part, recognized that unless she knew why her relationship with Kent had dissolved, history might repeat itself. If she did fall in love with Ted, she could revert to the same pattern that had destroyed her marriage to Kent.

“I don't think we can or should assign blame,” Kent said, sitting up. He leaned forward and extended his arms, cupping his coffee between his hands. “So…I guess we should figure out what went wrong.”

Beth swallowed hard, unsure where to start. She couldn't.

“Do you want to go first?” he asked. Kent, too, apparently found it difficult.

“No. You go.”

“All right.” He took a breath. “Once the girls got their driver's licenses, they didn't seem to need me anymore. They had their own lives. And that's the way it should be.”

“A father's more than a chauffeur,” she said with the glimmer of a smile. “But I know what you mean. They were becoming adults, so our role as parents changed.”

He nodded. “And you had your career, while I had mine.”

“At some point, without even being aware of it, we lost sight of what's important,” Beth said. “And then it became a matter of pride, as if the most vital thing was proving how little we needed each other.”

He nodded again.

“You stopped attending college social functions with
me, and I retaliated by not attending your business dinners.”

He lowered his gaze. “I'm sorry, but I found them boring.”

“They were.” She'd be the first to admit it.

“You always made them fun, though—in a slightly scandalous way,” he said, grinning. “I got all the gossip. We'd stand in a corner and you'd tell me the most inappropriate stories.”

“And you'd embarrass me by laughing at the most inappropriate times,” she reminded him, and had trouble not breaking into giggles right then.

They looked at each other in silence.

“We both got absorbed in our lives, apart from each other,” he finally said.

“We became strangers who happened to be married.”

“I can't think of a single defining incident, an event that triggered the end of our marriage. Can you?”

“Not really.” It was more an accumulation of grudges, of minor slights and careless acts. Oh, there were plenty of small decisions Beth had made through the years. Decisions that seemed inconsequential, insignificant. For some reason she thought of the morning Kent had asked her to drop off a letter at the post office. It was on her way to the college, while he was driving in the op
posite direction. She told him she couldn't because she was running late. Really, how much time would it have taken? A minute? Two? Kent hadn't complained. He'd dropped off the letter himself.

Then there was the night she'd phoned and asked Kent to pick up bread and milk on his way home from work and he forgot. Such a little thing, but it had annoyed her no end.

At some stage she must have decided to ask nothing more of Kent. Was that when the pettiness began? When they turned to a silent battle of wills? How ridiculous they'd been. How silly and selfish and juvenile. No wonder their marriage had crumbled into pieces….

Beth visualized the slights, the put-downs, the irritations on both sides as pebbles, each a small stone in the growing pile that eventually crushed their marriage. Kent was right; it hadn't been any one thing. Nothing big. No infidelity. No drugs or alcohol abuse. No money problems.

“Folks,” the teenager said. He stood in front of their table with a tray and a white rag. “We're closing now.”

“Oh.” Feeling disjointed, Beth looked up.

“Normally I wouldn't mind staying while you finished your coffee, but it's Christmas Eve and my grandma's at the house.”

“No problem,” Kent said. He took one last drink of his coffee and left the cup on the table. “Thanks, and merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Beth echoed. She left her cup behind, too.

Kent walked her to her car. He seemed to have more he wanted to say. Beth knew she did. Perhaps later…

“I'll see you at the church in twenty minutes,” Kent said. He tucked his hands inside his pockets. “Bob at the B and B told me where it is.”

“I'm going to pick up Bailey and Sophie. We'll see you there.”

He started to turn away, but Beth stopped him.

“Kent…”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind sitting with the girls and me?”

He smiled. “I'd be happy to,” he said.

Beth smiled back. Even if that meant Danielle joined them—well, she could tolerate that. It was the season of goodwill, after all. The important thing was for their family to be together.