Christmas On Nutcracker Court (17 page)

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Authors: Judy Duarte

BOOK: Christmas On Nutcracker Court
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“No, and my dad died when I was twelve.”
“Where's the boys' father?” he asked.
“I haven't seen him or heard from him in years. So he's not going to be any help at all.”
Max assumed she wasn't getting any financial support from the guy, either, which was too bad. It had to be a lousy situation for her, especially at this time of year.
He wondered if she was as angry and distrustful of men as he was with women—something he really didn't like admitting. It was easier to stay in his writing cave and to take out his frustration on any female he came across, even one who was fictional.
Maybe that's why he couldn't seem to work through the Priscilla/Logan issue.
Carly, who had no grocery cart at all, scanned the inside of his and smiled. “Froot Loops? Macaroni and cheese? Chips, candy . . . ?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I guess I'm just a kid at heart.”
At that, she almost laughed. “You could have fooled me.”
Yeah, well, there were some things he concealed pretty well. But he returned her chuckle with a smile.
“All you need is some ice cream to go with those cookies,” she added.
“I haven't gone down the freezer aisle yet, but that's next on my list.”
He wondered what she thought about his shopping habits. He supposed he couldn't blame her for making assumptions. The truth was, he'd been raised in a strict household, and no one had ever asked him what he'd wanted to eat, or where he'd like to go, or what he'd like to watch on television. So now that he was an adult and could do whatever he pleased, he tended to be a little self-centered.
“So where's
your
cart?” he asked.
“I only came for some cold medicine.” She glanced at her wristwatch, which was perched on a delicate wrist. She had pretty hands, too, he noticed, with medium-length nails that had been neatly manicured.
When she looked back up at him, she said, “I'm afraid I have to run. I have a sick child at home and don't like leaving the boys alone this late at night.”
“Which one's sick?”
“Mikey. The little one.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.” And he was. But he was also glad he'd run into her this evening, and he wasn't quite ready for her to leave. “Do you trust the older boy to look after his brother?”
“Yes, but it's getting late.”
When it came to kids being home alone, Max supposed she was right. But he still couldn't help wanting to keep her here just a moment longer.
“How do the boys get along?” he asked.
“For the most part, great. Josh is really good with Mikey, although he complains once in a while about being left in charge. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he's a lot more introspective than he's ever been before. So I'm really not sure what he's thinking. And that bothers me.”
“It's hard for some boys to confide in a woman,” he said, “especially a mother.”
“I guess.” She reached for a small box on the shelf, then gave another half shrug. “It's also difficult not having a man to talk to about it.” Her cheeks flushed, and she momentarily broke eye contact before regaining it. “I mean his father. You know?”
Yeah, he knew. If he and his ex were still married, he might have asked her to read over his manuscript and get her take on what was wrong, what was missing. But Karen didn't know anything about the writing process. And she'd never been very supportive of his dream anyway.
As Carly turned and reached for another box on the shelf, turning it to read the label, an idea struck. A wild one, granted, but it was the best thing either of them had going right now.
“I know a way we could help each other out.”
She wrinkled her brow. “How's that?”
“You'd like a man's perspective on raising sons, and I'd like a woman's perspective on a problem I have, too. So maybe we could do a trade-off.”
He figured she was going to blow him off, but she surprised him. “I wouldn't mind picking your brain and sharing my opinion with you, but I don't have time now. I have to get home.”
“I realize that. But how about coffee one of these days? Or maybe even lunch—my treat, of course. I'd really like your opinion about something.”
“What's the matter? Are you having trouble with a woman?”
“No,” he said, not wanting to tell her he'd had plenty of those kinds of problems last year. But he couldn't lie, either. “Actually, once my divorce was final, my female troubles were over.”
“You're lucky. I think a divorce just leaves a person with a whole new set of problems.”
She might be right, but he didn't want to think about that, so he asked, “What do you have planned for Monday?”
“It's a light day for me at the salon. I used to take it off, but . . . Well, the holidays are a busy time and I can use the money.”
He'd figured as much. “So what time can you meet?”
“How about one o'clock?”
“Great. Where?”
“Someplace close to Shear Magic, where I work.”
That narrowed down the choices. “There's a little bistro not far from the florist on Parkside Drive. What do you think about that?”
“Sounds good, but I really need to go now.”
“Okay. I'll see you then.”
She nodded, made a final decision on the medicine, putting the other back on the shelf, then hurried off toward the checkout lanes.
It was only a meeting, Max reminded himself, a sharing of perspectives. Yet for some reason, it felt a little bit like a date.
 
 
Carly paid for the medication, using her credit card, which she hated to do, but she didn't have quite enough cash on her this evening, so her options were limited.
After seeing Max's cart, which was filled with all kinds of goodies her boys would have loved, she'd been tempted to buy them a treat, too, and surprise them. But the sorry fact was, Mikey's medication had been the only extra she could afford tonight.
Besides, she told herself, it was getting too late for a bedtime snack.
Once she'd checked out, she hurried to the car and drove home. Yet on the way, she couldn't help thinking about Max Tolliver. As much as she wanted to consider him a villain, there was something decent about him, something nice.
And he wasn't bad to look at, either. At least, when he smiled and those caramel brown eyes lit up.
She couldn't believe she actually agreed to have lunch with him, though. And she wondered what kind of problem he had that needed a woman's perspective. She supposed she'd find out soon enough.
Still, as unexpected as his “idea” had been, how unlikely it was that they might be able to help each other out, she was actually looking forward to having lunch with him.
Sure, she wanted to discuss Josh and whatever was going on with him right now. But she was also looking forward to meeting with Max because it had been ages since she'd sat across a restaurant table from a handsome man who was buying her lunch.
It seemed to have all the makings of a casual first date, although she knew that it wasn't. She and Max were unlikely friends, let alone potential mates, so there was no need to worry about that.
Moments later, she arrived at the house and parked in the garage. Then she let herself in through the kitchen.
“I'm home,” she called.
No answer.
She glanced at the clock on the microwave, noting that she'd only been gone fifteen minutes—maybe seventeen or eighteen. “Josh? Where are you?”
“In here.”
She followed his voice to the living room, where he sat on the sofa. “Thanks for holding down the fort.”
“No problem.”
“What would I do without you?” she asked, not expecting an answer to what she'd meant as a compliment.
“I don't know.” He looked up at her with eyes the same color as his father's and a brow that furrowed in much the same manner. “I guess you'd really have problems.”
It hadn't been the answer she'd been expecting, but the truth struck her hard.
So with that in mind, as well as Mikey's cough, she probably wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight, either.
 
 
When lunch had ended on Thursday afternoon, Lynette had hung out long enough to help Maggie with the dishes, hoping to see Grant after he returned from his job interview, but it hadn't panned out that way. She'd made several excuses to go into Helen's living room so she could sneak a peek out the window, but Grant had yet to return.
Susan had waited around, too, since she'd made a plate of cookies to give to either Grant or Max. Lynette hadn't realized that Susan knew any of Helen's neighbors that well, but she'd never been very observant.
Eventually, Susan had given the cookies to Maggie, asking her to deliver them to whichever man she happened to see first, although they'd all agreed that it was more likely to be Grant, since Max seemed to be a recluse.
“Maybe it's best if you give the cookies to Grant,” Susan had finally said. “He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy something sweet and chewy. He's got those darling boyish dimples when he smiles, and something tells me he's a real kid at heart.”
Maggie had chuckled at that. “It's funny to think of men in their forties as boyish and cute.”
“All right,” Susan had admitted. “Grant is a drop-dead-gorgeous grown-up. He's also a little laid-back and casual, which makes him appealing.”
“I'll agree with that,” Lynette had said, “but Max isn't bad looking. He could certainly compete with Grant in the gorgeous department if he'd smile more.”
“I couldn't agree more,” Maggie had said, “which is why I'm working on that.”
“On what?” Lynette had added. “Making him smile more?”
Maggie had nodded, although she hadn't mentioned just how she planned to go about it.
Lynette might have asked her at that point, but she was more interested in Grant. Of the two men, she thought he might have the most money, be the best looking, and be more of the kind of guy who'd enjoy having a couple of boys around. So he'd probably be the better match for Carly.
“Maggie,” Susan had said, “are you interested in Max?”
“In what way?”
“Well, romantically, I suppose.” Susan had seemed to be a little concerned by that and added, “Would you go out with him if he asked you on a date?”
“Oh, no,” Maggie had said. “I won't be in town long enough for that sort of thing.”
At that, Susan had grinned and handed over the cookies to Maggie. “Give these to whoever you think would appreciate them most.”
Then she'd thanked Maggie again for lunch, said good-bye, and left.
Lynette had figured that she would give them to Grant for Susan when she talked to him about scheduling his haircut, something that would have worked out great, if the man—boyish or not—would have come home.
Apparently, his interview had been going well. She'd hoped so, since it had seemed important to him. But since she hadn't been able to wait forever, she'd gone home that day.
In the meantime, Lynette had talked to Carly on the telephone and had learned that there were plenty of times Grant could get a haircut. So she'd taken the first available appointment for him, which was Monday at twelve thirty.
However, she hated to cancel on Carly at the last minute, which she'd already done recently. So on Friday afternoon, she made up a reason to visit Maggie, hoping she would run into Grant, as well.
And if she didn't see him outside? Then she would just walk up to his front door and ring the bell. After all, if she was going to be a successful matchmaker, she needed to learn more about the man so she could sing his praises to Carly—and vice versa.
Now, after she climbed out of the car and locked the door, she hurried up to the entrance of the Petal Pusher, a little nursery and gardening store on the outskirts of town.
It wasn't nearly as cold today as it had been yesterday, so she wore her black leggings and a beige top and sweater. That was one of the things she liked about Southern California winters, they could be unpredictable, although usually mild.
After purchasing a lush plant to give Maggie in appreciation for having her and Susan for lunch yesterday, she returned to her vehicle and drove to Nutcracker Court.
As she neared Helen's house, she spotted Grant trimming his hedge, something she decided was Fate at work. So after parking, she removed the plant from the passenger seat, got out of the car, and made her way to his yard.

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