Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce (21 page)

“She probably will. All you have to do is convince him she wants to see him again. That you talked to her and bought the tickets and that you’re both coming down for Christmas.”

“That easy, huh?” she said. He smiled and brought her hand to his mouth to kiss it. Her cheeks turned a rosy pink at the look he gave her.

Yes, darling, I am imagining you naked and wrapped around me
. He probably would every time they were in the same room. Christmas would be a whole new realm of torture.

They inched closer to the desk. With each passing minute, his throat grew raw; his chest ached. God, this was even harder than he thought it would be. She didn’t say anything else as they moved through the line. Did she feel the same sense of dread that had been plaguing him since he awoke that morning?

He’d said good-bye to lovers before, mostly with a smile on his face as their time together came to an end. Or they’d leave him after realizing he wasn’t kidding when he told them there wouldn’t be kids or white picket fences in their futures.

None of them had left him with this hollow ache.

He stood to the side while Amy checked in for her flight, finally having to release her hand. The lack of her warmth was physical, terrifying in its intensity. She checked in her bag and turned to him, a bright smile on her face. But he knew what she looked like when she really smiled, and this wasn’t it. She was putting on a front. Whether for him or for herself, he wasn’t sure, but it pained him to see the forced cheer. He reclaimed her hand.

“Security’s this way,” he said. He tugged her along toward the gates, spotting an alcove by the bathrooms. He pulled her into it.

“Mason!”

He wrapped his arms around her and captured her mouth with his, blood searing his veins. He’d held her that morning, made slow love to her, but still he wanted more. He was beginning to fear he’d always want more where Amy was concerned. She kissed him back with the same fervor, locking her body around his and moaning into his mouth. Public, damn it. They were in the middle of the airport. He needed to get himself under control. Had to stop. But he couldn’t.

After a few moments, she pulled back from him, her gaze darting around. The commotion of people coming and going surrounded him again. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in gasps. She clutched his shoulders, her body shaking against his.

“I have to go,” she whispered as if she were telling him she was dying. Maybe she was. Maybe she felt just as torn up inside as he did. But she pushed him away. He took two steps back, and her hands fell to her sides. She hiked her bag up onto her shoulder and straightened her shirt. He stood there immobile as she pulled herself together. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and red from his attention. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her eyes were hard. He’d seen that look there before and knew her stubborn streak had taken over.

She wasn’t going to let him touch her again, and a little part of him died inside.

Amy stepped off the curb in front of the airport and into Dad’s arms, fighting the tears that had been clawing to get out since she’d turned back to wave her final good-bye to Mason. When he’d kissed her with such desperation in the terminal, she’d almost broken down. Almost told him to screw the plan, sacrificing her father’s happiness for a chance at hers, despite the fact that she knew she couldn’t give Mason tomorrow. Instead she’d pushed him away.

“Ames, what’s wrong?” Dad said, forcing her back into the present.

She didn’t know where she’d gone there for a moment, imagining what her life could have been like coming home to Mason every night. He could come in and help her set up her classroom, help force her to make a year’s worth of lesson plans. Dad gave her shoulders a gentle shake. He’d never done well with too much emotion, so she tried to keep it off her face, tried to keep the tears at bay. But she could feel them prick the back of her throat anyway.

“It didn’t go well, huh? I’m sorry, honey. I know you really wanted one of those positions.”

He thought she was upset over the jobs. Of course, he had no idea what she’d really been doing in Colorado.

“I got the job. With the Denver city district.”

He smiled and hugged her again. He lifted her up and spun her around. It was more joy than she’d seen from him since getting back from Texas two weeks ago.

“Oh, honey, that’s great!”

She laughed at his enthusiasm. He set her on her feet and took her wheeled suitcase. “Car’s this way,” he said. She followed him to his green Impala and told him about the interview on their way home. It was hard to tell him all that and not say a word about Mason. When they pulled into the driveway, she turned to him.

“Have you heard anything from Martha?”

“No,” he said. That was it. No explanation, no emotion. Nothing. They went inside, and he made them dinner. She sat down to eat but had no appetite.

“Listen, Dad, there’s something I want to talk to you about. But I don’t want it to make you upset.”

His eyes widened. “When was the last time you saw me upset?” He took a drink of water.

He had a point there.
Okay, here goes
. “I’m sorry I was so mad at you when Mom died.”

He sputtered, water dribbling down his chin. “Honey, that was a long time ago. And you weren’t really mad at me; you were just mad. At everything. So was I, for that matter.”

“No. I was mad. Specifically at you. And her. For lying to me. When she died, I realized that’s what you’d been fighting with her about. Why you weren’t happy about planning that party for me. Why you were so miserable even though I thought she was going to be okay. You knew the truth.”

He tugged on his right earlobe, rubbing it compulsively. It was a gesture she hadn’t seen in so many years it made her heart hurt. He hadn’t done that since before Mom died. “I don’t know if I ever apologized. I am so very sorry for the way we handled that.”

She didn’t think her dad’s voice had ever been so thick with emotion. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, but he didn’t look away from her, didn’t try to excuse his actions.

“I know why you did it, even though I was so mad at you—at both of you—then. I think I’ve finally imagined what it would have been like for me those last few months if I’d known. We spent time together, Mom and I. A lot of time laughing and planning and having fun. I wouldn’t have gotten any of that if I’d known.” The tears started slipping down her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. She was sad but also grateful. The pain that usually tore through her when she thought of her mom didn’t hit as sharply this time. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you, trying to put on a happy face, knowing the whole time I was going to lose her. Knowing she was…” She couldn’t finish.

“Dying?” Dad said.

She nodded, grabbing a napkin to dry her tears. He reached across the small table and took her hand in his. He squeezed her fingers.

“It was hard. I won’t lie to you. Sometimes it was horrible thinking how you were going to feel afterward. But your mother… She wanted you to stop worrying. Wanted you to enjoy the time you had left with her, live in the moment, and stop being terrified of what tomorrow would bring. And I wanted to give her anything she asked for.”

“Thank you,” she said, sniffling.

He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

* * * *

“This is crazy,” Dad said as he took his seat next to Amy on the plane.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this again.”

“You heard her. She wants to see you. And me.” She put the armrest down between the seats and rested her elbow on it.

The plan had gone beautifully. She’d sent a quick text to Mason after Dad had talked to Martha on the phone, agreeing to come for Christmas. She’d gotten an abrupt
perfect
in response, but that was it. She didn’t know what she’d expected. She’d completely shut down on him at the airport, refusing to let her brain or body torture her any longer. She’d barely made it through security before she’d become completely numb.

“What if she changes her mind?”

Aw, he was nervous. She knew exactly how he felt, so she smiled. “Everything will be fine.” She didn’t know if she was trying to reassure him or herself. The flight attendants came through to give them all the emergency procedure information, and she sat back in her seat.

She’d driven herself crazy since getting home from Colorado, trying, and failing, to keep her mind off Mason. She’d accepted the job as the kindergarten teacher in Denver’s school district. This meant living temptingly close to the first man she’d wanted in a long time and being unable to have him. She gnawed her lower lip as the plane coasted through the air, bringing her closer and closer to Mason and his bright blue eyes.

She knew every inch of his body now. She knew what he looked like when he was angry, when he was defeated or sad. She could catalog his mood based on the way he smiled and how crinkled the laugh lines around those deep blue pools got. She hadn’t spoken to him in almost three weeks, and with each day, the ache that had overtaken her got worse, not better. Pain got better with time. So why did she hurt so damned bad?

She reassured her dad again a few times through the day. He didn’t seem to know how on edge she was, and for that she was grateful. Explaining away her mood over the past three weeks had been easy. She’d told him her anxiety was over the job. Moving away. Leaving him. All kinds of things. Everything except what was really eating away at her. When they finally landed in Austin, her nerves were wound so tight she feared her skin might explode at any second.

It’s only a few days. You can handle a few days.

She repeated this over and over again as her father sorted out their car rental and she grabbed their bags.

He lifted hers into the car. “Jesus, what do you have in here, bricks?” he asked.

She grinned but didn’t fess up. She’d sneaked a can of cranberry sauce into her suitcase when he hadn’t been looking. He wouldn’t get the joke, but Mason would. She was determined to be prepared this time.

As they drove through holiday traffic toward Martha’s house, she had absolutely no freaking clue what she was going to say to Mason when they were face-to-face again. The sooner this fucking holiday ended, the better.

Dad pulled into the driveway and turned to her. “You ready for this, Ames?”

She barely stopped herself from shaking her head. The front lawn was green, not a snowman or plow in sight. But Martha’s house was decorated to the nines. Bright multicolored lights outlined each window and covered the tree in the front lawn. It wasn’t a fir tree but something wider, like an oak, still with all its leaves. A light-up sleigh and reindeer sat among the bushes, and plastic candy canes lined the walkway.

She wanted to run back to the airport, but she had to do this. For her dad. So instead of screaming no, she nodded. He grinned, and they got out. After grabbing their bags, they headed for the front door. Dad rang the bell, and they stood waiting on the front steps. A second later, Martha opened the door.

She looked gorgeous in a fifties-style wrap dress that came down to just below her knees. It was a bright red, with large green polka dots. Her hair was pulled back, and her makeup was flawless. Clearly she’d been as nervous to see Dad as he was to see her.

“Martha,” Dad said.

“Oh, James.” She pulled him into the house and hugged him. Amy sighed. Maybe this would work after all. She brought their bags in and closed the door behind her.

“I’ll, uh, just bring these upstairs,” she said. They continued to embrace, neither paying her any attention. Amy wasn’t sure where to put the suitcases, actually. Was Mason here yet? She carried the bags up and set them inside the door of the room she’d stayed in when they were here last month.

She couldn’t stop from staring at Mason’s closed door. Flashes of each time she’d sneaked inside to seduce him plagued her. She had to get out of there. After snagging the can of cranberry sauce from inside her suitcase, she took the back staircase into the kitchen. Only that was a mistake too, because they’d first been together right there. A flush infused her. She’d been on edge, bereft, ever since she’d left Colorado.

But seeing her dad with Martha made her realize she’d made the right decision, even if it was killing her.

“Hey,” Mason said, coming through the swinging door from the dining room.

Her heart jolted, and she almost dropped the can. Her whole body froze as she took in the sight of him. He wore dark wash jeans, hung low on his gorgeous hips, and a soft red sweater stretched tight against his shoulders and chest. Her mouth watered, her womb clenched, her skin ached to rub itself all over him. She remained rooted to the spot.

“Hi,” she said. Oh, that was wonderfully lame.

“We did it,” he said.

She nodded. “Dad was real nervous about coming down here.”
So was I.

“Mom’s been in a tizzy for three days. It’s been kind of funny to watch, actually. We did good.”

“We did,” she said. She moved toward him. “Excellent job, partner.” She set down the can.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Figured we might need it,” she said.

He laughed but sobered quickly. “This is a lot harder than I thought it’d be”

“I know. But you saw them. We have to stay strong. A few days. That’s it. We can handle it.” She hoped.

“You’re right.”

It shouldn’t have thrilled her that he was as unhappy about their decision to stay away from each other as she was. She didn’t want him to be miserable, not really, but if he’d been okay seeing her again, unaffected, not aching inside like she was, it would have been worse. He gazed at her with such longing she had to force herself to take a step back instead of leaping into his arms the way she wanted to.

He turned from her, and she followed him back through the dining room and into the living room where Martha and her dad sat on the couch, holding hands.