Yule Tidings (25 page)

             
“Of course you can, I’m sorry I didn’t offer sooner.”  Merle was proud of his home.  He’d designed it and it was the first project he allowed his new construction crew to build.  It was important that one project was under their belt before he put them in the field seriously, and since he needed a place to live, he had them build his house.  Merle started with the basement.  The guys had finished it for him.  The walls were a soft baby blue, accented by gray-blue carpeting.  The basement was separated into three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a living room.  One bedroom was furnished with two sets of bunk beds, for those occasions when his grandkids visited at the same time for Christmas.  The other two bedrooms had simple full-sized beds with a modest headboard.  Merle’s kids liked their space, so he’d made the downstairs a mini efficiency, without the kitchen, so they could have some privacy.  The living room was small with a tube television on a sturdy TV stand tucked in the far corner.  The couch was an old blue and silver tweed with a matching loveseat and chair.  On the floor were two bean bags.  Anne smiled as she looked around.  She knew what it was like to travel with kids.  She’d always hated visiting family because the kids would leave stuff sitting out in the host’s home, causing grandma to trip and stumble.  It would have been nice to have something like this. 

             
Merle took Anne back upstairs.  There was only one bedroom on the main floor, which Anne had seen.  He bypassed his kitchen, living room, and sitting room since she’d spent time in each.  He paused outside the office door for a second, warning her that this particular room was a mess.  Anne looked around in some surprise at a room full of blueprints, outlines, books on everything she could imagine, and two computers.  Despite his age, Merle stayed on top of the game for his construction companies.  She hadn’t realized he still owned and operated all three, two from a distance.  He was trying to sell the first two, but it would take a while to find a buyer, he explained, as he pointed at the various projects each company was undertaking.  The company in Virginia was building a three-bedroom home in an expensive subdivision, one of about fifty they would be continually working on.  The other company was in Colorado building some kind of ranch house and outbuildings.  It sounded like a rather large undertaking. 

             
Merle led Anne up a flight of stairs.  She was surprised to find three more bedrooms upstairs.  Merle hesitated outside the door to the master suite.  He’d designed it for his wife, but by the time they were able to move into the house, she couldn’t use the stairs, so they slept in the downstairs bedroom.

             
Anne gasped as she stepped into the room.  The window was showcased with a large window seat with inlet reading lamps that could be positioned however the reader wanted.  The bed was a large mahogany sleigh bed with intricate flowers carved into the wood.  Merle seemed to have a habit of buying King sized beds, Anne thought wryly.  The matching armoire, dresser, and vanity were immaculate, each seemingly untouched.  The connecting bathroom was amazing.  Two sinks with large mirrors grabbed her eye as she walked in; a little alcove showcased a frosted glass modesty screen and toilet, and then a beautiful Jacuzzi/bath glistened from the corner.  She looked at Merle in surprise.  Why didn’t he use this room?  As if he saw the question in her eyes he explained that he’d designed it to a woman’s taste, and since he was alone, it seemed a waste to stay upstairs and heat the entire house.  He led the way through the two other bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom before taking her back down to the kitchen. 

             
“Merle?” Anne asked, hesitantly, while he cooked on the stove. 

             
“Hmm?”

             
“Why don’t you have any pictures of your wife?”  Anne had noticed that other than a few knickknacks here and there, he had nothing from his first wife just sitting out.

             
“She asked me not to.  I keep a few photos in the office on my desk; blueprints are covering them right now.  She wanted me to give the kids whatever they wanted within the first year, and then she wanted me to take the rest to charity over the second year.  I still have one closet to go through, but otherwise, I’ve followed her requests.”  Merle didn’t look at Anne while he spoke.  His wife had wanted him to move on.  She didn’t want him to dwell on her death.  She’d always insisted that he needed to remarry quickly.  He wasn’t the kind of man that would do well alone.  She was right.  Until he’d met Anne he’d been in a steady downward spiral into miser-hood.  Martha had known him better than he knew himself. 

             
Anne could tell Merle didn’t want to talk about his first wife.  He’d told her enough over the past few weeks that she knew he’d loved Martha dearly and her death had nearly taken him to his grave.  Anne hugged him quickly and started talking about dinner and how her day had gone.  Merle accepted the change of conversation gratefully.

After dinner, Anne cleaned the kitchen as Merle sat at the table, chatting with one of his construction foremen from Colorado over the phone.  He hung up smiling.  The projects were all right on track.  Merle watched Anne milling about in his kitchen.  She seemed nervous, almost jittery this evening.  Maybe she was thinking about the first time they’d had dinner here; of course, they’d never actually eaten, but that didn’t matter.  It occurred to Merle that she didn’t know if he was serious about her or not.  “Come sit down a minute, Anne.”   Merle motioned to the chair next to his.  He wanted to talk to her.

             
Anne sat in the chair and listened as Merle talked about his plans for the next few years.  He wanted to continue running the company in town for at least another five years, slowly cutting back on his hours.  After five years, he figured Jim would be able to take over for him, with Merle coming in occasionally as support.  He was considering having Jim take over his other two companies if he couldn’t sell them, but he wasn’t decided on that yet.  Next year he would travel back down to Virginia to spend the holidays with his children and grandchildren.  He’d been away too long.  Merle outlined the next five years to Anne before taking her hand in his.  “Anne, I’m hoping you’ll be there with me, you know.”

             
Anne looked at Merle in some astonishment.  Well, that made what she was going to ask him seem easier.  “Merle, I was just going to ask if you wanted or would be willing to come to my daughter and son-in-laws’ for Thanksgiving.”  Anne didn’t bother telling Merle he was being too serious or moving too quickly.  At their ages, they didn’t really have a lot of time to waste.  Besides, being with Merle just felt right, but she didn’t want to put the cart before the horse.  She wanted Merle to meet her children and grandchildren; but she also wanted him there for moral support.  Franklin and Donna would be at Rose’s, too.

             
Merle laughed.  Anne never skipped a beat.  He was practically asking her to marry him, and she just invited him to Thanksgiving dinner.  Well, he’d show her.  “Yes, Anne, I’ll have Thanksgiving with your family.  I’d really enjoy that.”  Merle refused to let Anne leave.  He practically begged her to stay with him for the weekend.  He even offered to let her sleep in one of the guest rooms if she preferred.  Anne laughed at him.  She was beginning to think she should just give the kids Merle’s number for emergencies. 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

             
Anne was nervous Thursday morning as she dressed.  Merle had convinced her to spend Friday and Saturday night with him.  She wondered if the kids would be able to tell that she was sleeping with him.  She hoped not.  That would be too embarrassing for words.  For the thousandth time she reconsidered going to Rose’s.  Franklin and Donna would be there, but so would the rest of the kids and grandkids, and she really didn’t want to miss out.  She hadn’t seen Jason and Alex yet, and she wanted to be certain everything was cleared up.  This would be the only chance she might get before the wedding; and Christmas was just around the corner.  Anne dabbed her neck with perfume.  Merle would be there soon.  It was only nine in the morning, but Rose lived a good four hours away.  Even with Merle’s driving it would be one before they arrived.  Anne wanted to be able to help cook the food.  She’d warned Merle that Franklin would be there, but he assured her it wasn’t a big deal, and not to worry about it.

             
There was a soft knock on the front door and Anne scrambled down the stairs, her heels slowing her progress.  She took a deep breath before opening the door and letting Merle inside.  He’d never been in her house, and Anne was relieved that she’d spent so much time in the last few weeks cleaning.  Merle looked at Anne in surprise.  She was absolutely beautiful.  Her hair was artfully piled atop her head, and her eyes, lips, and cheeks were brushed with just enough make-up to bring out their natural beauty.  She wore a deep red, long-sleeve velvet blouse over a matching tank with a v-neck.  A lovely Christmas tree pin sparkled at the crevice between her breasts.  Her black skirt was shorter than he expected, just brushing her knees, and flaring out from her hips and thighs in a rather appealing manner.  Black calf-high boots with heels that made her at least two inches taller completed the outfit.  She didn’t look like a grandmother, exactly, and Merle appreciated the effect.

             
Merle, for his own part, was wearing a dark red dress shirt, something he’d bought after asking Anne what she was wearing.  His charcoal gray suit brought out the darker strands of his hair without hiding the gray and his Christmas tie, a gift from his grandkids that was covered in brightly colored Christmas tree bulbs, highlighted the outfit.  Merle grinned as Anne invited him in.  There were already three inches of fresh snow outside.  They’d be lucky if it stopped within the next few hours. 

             
Anne gave Merle a quick tour.  She was a little embarrassed that everything in her home was so well used in comparison to Merle’s, but he didn’t seem to notice.  He was quite taken with the layout of the house, open and airy: not something common when the house was built, nearly thirty years before.  Anne explained that she’d wanted open spaces so she could see the kids from wherever she was on the main floor.  She showed him through the house somewhat nervous as she came to her bedroom.  It seemed odd showing Merle the bed her ex-husband had gotten her.  She opened her bedroom door, letting Merle walk in front of her into the large room.  He looked around in curiosity, but said nothing and Anne sighed in relief when they finally climbed in the car to leave.

             
The drive to Rose’s house was even slower than usual.  The roads were slick, the snow falling in blinding bursts.  Merle was a careful driver, and Anne had to admire his patience as he weaved his way down the road through the snowdrifts.  She would have given up and gone home or pulled over until the storm cleared up a bit, but Merle just kept driving through the storm.  Anne chattered nervously, afraid of an accident, and Merle listened half-heartedly as he concentrated on the road.  Anne told him which turnoff to take and Merle followed her lead as she directed him down the deserted city streets to Rose’s house. 

             
Rose opened the door and was surprised to see her mother on the arm of an older man, being escorted to the door.  When the storm hit, Rose had figured her mother and her guest wouldn’t even be coming.  Her ‘guest’.  Rose had assumed it would be one of the single women from work.  She greeted the couple warmly, Mr. Johnson seemed like a nice man, she thought, as she ushered them inside and out of the snow.  They were an hour and a half late, no big surprise with such a storm. 

             
Anne took pleasure in introducing Merle to her family.  She stuttered momentarily as she introduced Franklin and Donna, but Merle was undaunted.  He shook Franklin’s hand warmly and nodded politely at Donna as Anne made the introductions.  Anne hugged her kids warmly as she introduced them, beginning with the oldest, Michael and his wife Kelly, then Rose and her husband Brandon, then Jason and Alex, who Merle knew the most about, and lastly her daughter Trisha.  The grandkids rushed in for hugs and Anne introduced Michael and Kelly’s three children: Micah, Hannah, and Haven; and then Rose and Brandon’s two children, Bishop and Robyn.  Merle insisted that Anne’s kids call him by his given name instead of Mr. Johnson if they were willing.  He wanted them to feel comfortable with him. 

             
Anne hugged Alex again, relieved that the girl held no hard feelings.  She asked about the pregnancy and the baby and took delight in Alex’s varied questions about Anne’s pregnancies. 

             
The women finished dinner while the men watched football and supervised the children.  Anne was surprised that Merle fit in so well with her family.  He immediately attached himself to Jason, who was his rival in architectural knowledge, though not experience, and Anne laughed as she heard them debating the proper way to design a cornice.  Merle even seemed able to accept Franklin without any discomfort, something Anne was grateful for. 

             
Dinner was hectic, each dish passing from left to right.  Anne sat between Merle and Alex, who sat next to Jason.  Jason and Merle continued debating good-naturedly over Anne and Alex’s heads until Anne offered to move so the two designers could sit next to each other.  Everyone chattered contentedly throughout the meal.  Anne and Alex took turns feeding the twins, who sat in high chairs just behind them while Rose and Brandon fed Bishop and Robyn from their laps.  The kids cleared the table for dessert once the babies were finished, and Anne found herself holding Merle’s hand as she watched her sons and daughters and ‘in laws’ make trips to and from the kitchen, refusing to let the “grandparents” help, as Rose had coined Anne, Merle, Franklin, and Donna.  It was awkward sitting at the table with just Franklin and Donna, but Anne ignored it as best she could.