Mist on the Meadow (11 page)

Marissa swiped at her eyes with the back of
her hand. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

“Why so sad?” he asked.

“She’s worried about Uncle Balt,” her mother
said.

He nodded. “I know how much you love him,
Sweetie, but he’s been sick for a long time.”

Marissa and her mother both looked at
him.

“You knew?” her mother asked.

“I’ve been helping him get his affairs in
order. He didn’t want anyone to worry.” He walked behind Marissa
and laid his hands on her shoulders. “He’s had a good life. He
wants us to celebrate that.”

“I know,” Marissa said. She put down the
knife and leaned on the counter. “I can’t imagine Christmas without
him.”

“I felt the same way when my father died, and
then my mother,” he told her. “It doesn’t get any easier, but we
still have each other.” He rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Ofenschlupfer
?”

Marissa nodded with a smile and wiped back
another renegade tear. “And now I have to wash my hands again.” She
laughed and walked to the sink one more time.

“Let’s try to make his time with us happy.
The way it’s always been,” her father said. “And when he goes, it
will be as if he’s gone back to Milwaukee. We’ll see him again—one
day— even if it isn’t the same way we see him now.”

“Is it time to open presents yet?” Max
asked.

“And why are you up so early?” their mother
asked.

“Coffee. You can’t expect someone to sleep
through the smells that come out of this kitchen.”

Their mother poured him a cup and shooed him
away. “Go make sure Hex isn’t tearing open packages in there.”

Marissa’s father watched her dry her hands
and return to the cutting board. “He has a gift for you. Something
he wasn’t able to bring with him on the bus.”

“The journals?” Marissa asked.

“Then he told you about them?”

She nodded. “Family history, he said.”

“There’s a strongbox at his place in
Milwaukee. We can pick them up when we drive him back.”

* * *

The plows had cleared the streets by the time
Wolf left to pick up Marissa, but he allowed extra time, just in
case.

He took a pull from his commuter mug—twenty
ounces of coffee designed to keep him awake. Wolf had exhausted
himself at the piano until past midnight, and when he’d finished,
he’d meant to warm his hands in front of the dying fire in the
parlor. Once he sat on the faded sofa, he’d fallen asleep.

At least he’d slept.

Today, Wolf wanted to be alert. He wanted to
see Uncle Pete’s reaction to Marissa, and her reaction to him. And
he intended to find out how much she knew about the board of
directors meeting tomorrow.

His car slid through the intersection before
her parents’ house.

Why had she asked about his parents’
car?

Wolf pulled into the driveway and shut off
the engine.

Marissa wasn’t his type. Likely his
attraction to her had been based on her great-uncle’s clumsy
attempts to throw them together, that and the incredible cake she’d
made. He’d get his answers from her and that would be the end of
it. Chances were after today he’d never see her again.

Resolved, Wolf pounded his palm against the
steering wheel and got out of the car.

Mrs. Maitland invited him into the house,
where he waited inside the front door.

“I’ll get Marissa,” she said.

From where he stood, Wolf had a view of the
family room, where the Maitlands were gathered. Hex chased
discarded pieces of wrapping paper around the room, and Marissa’s
family talked animatedly amidst smiles and laughter.

Christmas had been the same with his family.
Before
. Now he was taking Marissa away from home and hearth,
so she could experience drunk Uncle Pete, his fat cousin, Chuck,
and his long-suffering Aunt Corrine.
Way to ruin someone’s
Christmas
.

Mrs. Maitland touched Marissa’s shoulder and
pointed at him. Marissa looked up and smiled. She rose from her
cross-legged spot on the floor and held out a finger for him to
wait. She walked toward the kitchen, out of sight, and then Hex
raced toward him, a bow stuck to his head.

Wolf tucked his gloves into his pockets and
picked the cat up. “Hey, you little beast. It looks like they’re
treating you well.”

Hex purred and nuzzled his shoulder.

Marissa reappeared with her coat folded over
her arm and a dish in her hands. “I made bread pudding for dessert.
I hope your aunt doesn’t mind.”

Wolf set the cat down and took the dish from
her. “I’m sure she’ll be very happy.”
Note to self. Don’t eat
the bread pudding.

Marissa turned to address her mother, who
hovered in the living room doorway. “I’ll grab Hex on my way back
home.” She hesitated a moment, then walked over to give her mother
a hug and whisper something. “Merry Christmas,” she said when she
returned to the front door. She looked up at Wolf with eyes that
shone like polished sapphires. “Ready.”

He nodded.

She had no idea what she was in for. Guilt
gnawed at his subconscious. Marissa didn’t deserve to be put
through the ordeal he’d wanted to avoid himself.

The cold brought a rosy red to her cheeks.
Wolf opened the car door and extended an arm. He needed to remain
detached. His goal was to say as little as possible. For now, he
wanted to observe, to catch the moment of recognition from either
Marissa or his uncle so he’d know which of them to grill.

He returned the dish to her and closed her
door, got in his side and proceeded to his uncle’s home. Marissa
didn’t seem to have much to say, either. Not what he’d expect from
a woman.

The uneasiness in his gut wouldn’t go away.
As much as he’d intimated the invitation was reciprocal, Christmas
with his family wasn’t going to be anything like what she’d left
behind. Surely there was a better way to find out what she knew.
But there wasn’t time. The auditors would deliver the report to the
board tomorrow. If Marissa knew something he didn’t, he’d have to
glean the information today.

They passed through the town square, where
the Christmas festival had not yet opened for the day. One more day
of mulled wine and spiced cider, of hot chocolate and sleigh rides
and ice skating. Many of the Christkindl booths had already vacated
their spaces. Wolf hadn’t been back to the festival
after,
and he had no desire to stop today in the frigid temperatures.

Two blocks off Main Street, he veered into
his uncle’s driveway.

Last chance
, he told himself.
You
don’t have to put her through this.

“Is this their house?” Marissa asked.

Wolf took a deep breath. “Yeah.” He helped
her out of the car and carried the dish again, two steps behind
while she trudged through the unshoveled snow.

Aunt Corrine met them at the front door and
immediately wrapped Wolf in a hug. Her eyes glistened with unshed
tears. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said quietly.

She took the dish from him and smiled at
Marissa. “Introduce me to your guest?”

“Aunt Corrine, this is Marissa Maitland.”

“I’m so happy to meet you! You didn’t have to
bring anything, you know.”

Marissa hadn’t batted an eyelash, hadn’t
missed a beat. She smiled and shook Aunt Corrine’s hand. “It’s the
least I could do. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Come in out of the cold!” Aunt Corrine
stepped aside and tucked a strand of gray hair behind her ears
while they passed into the house.

As expected, Uncle Pete was glued to the
football game with a glass of bourbon in his hand. His white hair
stood on end, as if he’d pulled his hands through it many times
already. At least he seemed to be dressed for company. Chuck
clutched a game controller in the living room while he bobbed and
weaved to one of his games. He wore sweat pants, probably the only
thing that fit comfortably.

Wolf watched Marissa’s face for any change in
expression. She smiled brightly, but took a deep breath before she
finally asked, “Can I help you in the kitchen?”

“Oh no, please make yourself at home,” Aunt
Corrine said.

“I’m most at home in the kitchen. I’m
part-owner of a café in town,
Mangela
.”

Aunt Corrine stopped to stare at her, clearly
awestruck. “I thought your name sounded familiar.”

Wolf’s ears pricked.

“You make the best pastries! I’m a regular
customer.”

“I thought you looked familiar. Thank you so
much.”

“Come into the kitchen so you can show me all
your secrets.” Aunt Corrine lifted back the foil on the dish
Marissa brought. “What did you make for us?”

Not the recognition Wolf had hoped for.

“Apple bread pudding.”

Aunt Corrine pursed her lips into a satisfied
smile. “Just like Grandma made, huh Wolf?”

“Did she?” Wolf continued to study Marissa’s
face.

“Not every year, I don’t think, but I
remember her serving this at some of our family meals.”

In the family room, a bottle clinked against
glass. Must be a timeout in the football game, which meant Uncle
Pete would make the effort to greet them. His uncle sauntered into
the kitchen and narrowed his eyes at Marissa. Wolf took a step back
to make sure he didn’t miss any part of the introduction.

“This is Wolf’s Uncle Pete,” Aunt Corrine
introduced. “And this is Wolf’s friend Marissa.”

Marissa’s face never changed. She maintained
polite indifference and held out her hand. “Merry Christmas.”

Wolf turned his attention to his uncle. He
didn’t shake her hand, but raised his glass. If they knew each
other, it didn’t show.

“Want a drink?” Uncle Pete words slurred
together.

“Not right now, thank you,” Marissa
replied.

Uncle Pete slapped Wolf on the back.

“Finally brought a girl to meet the family,
didya? Just when I was beginning to think you were ashamed of us.”
Uncle Pete drained his glass in one go.

Marissa cast a glance at Wolf and he shook
his head. This probably wasn’t one of his smarter ideas. No one
should have to spend their Christmas this way.

On cue, his aunt called out, “Chuck, come say
hello to your cousin.”

“Hello, Wolf,” he yelled from the other
room.

“And his guest,” Aunt Corrine said.

“Hello, Guest,” Chuck replied.

Aunt Corrine pursed her lips again and turned
to her cooking.

“I’ll get him,” Wolf said. She didn’t need to
know he had an ulterior motive.

Chuck leaned to one side while the car on the
television screen screeched around a corner, and then he
straightened when the car hit the straightaway.

“Merry Christmas,” Wolf said.

“Yeah,” Chuck replied, eyes glued to the
TV.

While Wolf watched, the video game car
screeched out of control, ran over video grass back onto the video
road and then Chuck overcorrected right into a video mountain. He
tossed the controller to the floor and grunted his frustration. “I
was so close!”

“Take a break,” Wolf said.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever. One of your city girls
actually wanted to go slumming with you on Christmas?”

“Always the epitome of tact,” Wolf
replied.

“Let’s get this over with.” Chuck lifted
himself out of the chair. His weight looked even more out of
control than the last time Wolf had seen him. The poster boy for
why not to eat decadent desserts.

Marissa looked to Wolf for reassurance when
he returned to the kitchen, his cousin in tow. Uncomfortable, yes,
but no recognition there. Wolf studied his cousin’s face.

Chuck wiped his pudgy hands against his
sweats and reached out to shake her hand. “Merry Christmas,” he
said. “And what’s your name?”

“Marissa.”

“This is my cousin, Chuck,” Wolf said.

“This one’s a keeper, cuz,” Chuck said. He
leered at her and nodded. “Definitely.”

Aunt Corrine bustled him out of the kitchen.
“Go tell your father dinner’s ready.” She lowered her eyes and
scowled.

Wolf planned a quick exit after dinner. He’d
wait for the drive home, and then he’d ask Marissa point blank why
she’d asked about his parents, and how she knew about the board
meeting.

Wolf’s aunt had seated Marissa beside Wolf.
Wolf’s cousin, Chuck, sat across from them. From the way Chuck
stared at her, something in her appearance must be off. Marissa
smoothed her hair and straightened her blouse.

Uncle Pete gulped down another drink while
Wolf’s aunt poured water for the rest of them.

Marissa shifted in her seat and passed a
dish. Across from her, Chuck emptied a third of the heaping bowl of
mashed potatoes onto his plate, and then grabbed three rolls before
he passed them on.

Marissa lost her appetite. She pushed her
food around the plate with a fork, her left hand in her lap. Hex
would have been a welcome distraction right about now. His purrs
would soothe her nerves.

Wolf’s hand curled around hers beneath the
table and Marissa relaxed. She lifted her fork to her mouth and
stopped midway. Wolf was on her left. That meant she held his right
hand while he ate.

“Are you a lefty?” she asked him.

“It’s what made him so in demand when he
played baseball,” Chuck answered with a mouth full of food.

Marissa set her fork down again. “I guess I
didn’t notice last night.”

“Never understood why you gave it up,” Wolf’s
uncle muttered.

“I wasn’t good enough,” Wolf said, eyes on
his own plate.

“Are you kidding?” Chuck asked. “The scouts
were all over you, and you were only a sophomore.”

Wolf glared at his cousin. “I had more
important things to do.”

“Yeah, like sulk.” Chuck stuffed more food
into his mouth.

Marissa closed her eyes and let the heat flow
from Wolf’s hand into hers. She read his thoughts, answers to his
cousin’s rude comments.
He played baseball to make his father
proud.
His father’s opinion had been the only one that
mattered, and when his father was gone, there was no one left to
play for. Would he tell her if she asked? She guessed not. At
least, not yet.