Christmas in the Air (11 page)

S
ondra settled herself sidesaddle on their “donkey” and wondered where her life had taken the wrong turn that had landed her in this place. It must have been the moment she took the ramp onto Interstate 65, heading north to Indiana. Or well before it, when, during a moment of weakness, she'd agreed to participate in Allison's harebrained plan.

Who was she kidding? She would have done almost anything for her cousin whom, along with Aunt Mary and Uncle Bruce, she owed for all the normal experiences of her childhood. Every trip to Indiana Beach or Brown County State Park came as a backseat passenger in the Hensleys' car. She was indebted to them for so much more—for freely given hugs and for little-girl trinkets her single mom couldn't afford—but working with David Wright was stretching the limits of her gratitude.

The least she could expect was a little appreciation for her dropping everything, crossing a state line and
driving past acre after acre of flat, Hoosier farmland to reach Destiny. But David didn't even give her credit for her trouble. In fact, he seemed to resent her for just being there. What did he plan to do, play Mary and Joseph all by himself? Maybe he could crawl into the manger and play the Baby Jesus while he was at it.

Sondra couldn't help smiling at the image of big strong David curled up in the hay. Or sporting her costume and pillow belly for that matter.

A disloyal part of her figured it would be a waste for him to hide all his dark wavy hair beneath her heavy head shawl. Even with his hair clipped short on the sides, he couldn't hide its tendency to curl. If David wore her strange costume, the blue robe would only accentuate his light blue eyes. Translucent eyes that seemed to see everything yet reveal nothing.

Not that she'd noticed or anything. Or if she had noticed, she hadn't wasted any time dwelling on what she'd seen. Or if she had dwelled just a bit, then she at least was too smart to let a pretty face turn her head.

That the pony chose this moment to whinny and flip its mane, forcing her to tighten her grip on the reins, only annoyed her. David certainly wasn't harboring any attraction for her; he'd made that clear enough with the way he'd treated her. And from what her cousin had told her about him, he wasn't especially selective in choosing his many dating partners. What did it say about her that the skin on her arms tingled just because of David's nearness as he stood next to the pony? She wasn't that desperate for dates. Maybe long-term relationships
weren't her thing, but she'd had her share of dinners and movies.

Again, Stella whinnied and stomped her foot.

David glanced over and frowned. “You're not going to lose control, are you? We don't need you galloping into Bethlehem tonight like a bad cowboy wanna-be.”

Sondra narrowed her gaze at him and patted the pony's neck. She crooned to the horse instead of speaking to him. “Don't you listen to that old grouch, Stella. You and I know you'll pull this off like an old pro.”

She looked at David. “I'm from Louisville, remember? I know how to sit a horse.” Okay, she hadn't ridden more than a half-dozen times in her life, but she could ride, and that was all he needed to know.

“Glad to hear it. Wouldn't want the show to turn into a media event like last year.” His smile was smug enough to make her fist her fingers over the reins. The teeth he flashed were straight and white, a fact that only annoyed her further. How could she find a man like him attractive?

“There won't be a problem from me, but I can't speak for anyone else.” She raised both eyebrows.

He only kept smiling and continued his habit of grating on her nerves. For someone she'd known less than a half hour, he sure was a quick study at it.

Why did she let him get to her? And why couldn't she resist baiting him in return? She could answer those questions no more than she could figure out why she was so determined to prove herself to him. On her own turf at the office, she no longer had to prove anything to
anyone. No one could match her sixty-hour workweeks and the sacrifice of her already limited social life. Now her dream job was within her grasp—human resources director—if only she continued to keep up the pace.

“That's our cue,” David told her as the last strains of “O Holy Night” filtered through the sound system. “We might as well get this over with.”

He had that right. She needed only to get through this one day and she would fulfill her promise to Allison. Then she would sprint to her car and be across the Indiana-Kentucky border before the first snowflakes fell.

Still, her annoying co-star was just one of the reasons that she wanted her immediate destiny to be far away from Destiny. Just as she remembered from her childhood visits, Destiny seemed to close in around her, trapping her in its suffocating neighborliness.

Give her a big city any day. She'd been gone from Louisville less than a day, and yet she longed for her impersonal apartment in its impersonal complex in an impersonal area just outside the city. At least she figured missing home was what had caused the dull ache inside her as she'd passed by some of Center Street's tiny, holiday-decorated homes. People inside them were probably peeking out their shades as she drove by, picking her out for the stranger she was.

How people could survive in such a small town where everyone knew each other's business, she couldn't imagine. Two-bit towns like this one were where some women ended up when they gave up their dreams for a man. Others just became lonely, bitter
women like her mother. She would never repeat her mother's mistakes.

Because the only way out of Destiny was to get this rehearsal and the final performance over with, Sondra reluctantly handed David her pony's reins and let him lead her onto the set. Letting a guy lead her anywhere, now that was a first—and last if she had anything to say about it. At least this was only theater.

“This is the life, isn't it?” David said softly as they neared the stable. “Just a man taking care of his little family.”

Sondra had to grip the saddle horn to keep from hopping down and tackling him. Worse than his guessing she would be uncomfortable letting a man take her horse's reins, David seemed to enjoy her discomfort.

“It took a special man to be the adoptive father of Jesus,” she whispered back. “Most men couldn't have handled the job.”

She couldn't resist stressing the words “most men” or including him in that category, because David Wright was a jerk with a capital “J.” If she did an Internet search for the word “jerk,” his picture and resume would probably appear as top match. She couldn't believe Allison had offered last year to set her up with him. Didn't her cousin like her at all?

Well, she refused to let him bother her any longer. She wouldn't let his rudeness get to her, and she wouldn't allow herself to be affected by his good looks. She'd promised Allison, and that's all there was too it. She wasn't like her father; she kept her commitments.
Unlike him, she didn't escape in a big rig when the times got tough, leaving the people he allegedly loved in a cloud of diesel exhaust.

No, she wasn't leaving, so David could just forget about pushing her buttons. She would get through this night if it killed her. Or him. Or maybe the both of them.

 

David yanked the poufy hat off his head and rubbed his frozen ears as he trudged over to his car. If his ears were frostbitten and were amputated, would he still be able to hear cases from the bench? Chances were he'd still be able to hear claims from the prosecution and pleas from the defense, but he would sure look funny doing it.

Settling behind the wheel of Reba, his seasoned sedan with rust-pattern detailing, he turned the key and blasted the heat. Usually he would have taken time to appreciate how the old gal's engine whined and then purred, but then he wasn't usually so rankled with himself.

At the thump of something beating the window, he jerked his head. Martin stood in the wind yelling something outside the glass. If only David had not given Reba a chance to warm up and had driven right off the lot, he could have avoided facing anyone from the cast, but now he was stuck. He cranked open the window.

Martin reached in to pat David's shoulder with his gloved hand. “Well done, young man. Everyone felt the true meaning of Christmas right down to their toes.”

“They probably couldn't feel their toes. I know I can't.”

Martin demonstrated his full-belly laugh again and nodded. “Okay, maybe a few had frostbitten toes. But if they were watching and listening at all, they also got hearts shock full of praise tonight. You and Sondra did a great job, particularly under such short notice.”

David lifted a shoulder and let it fall.

The side of Martin's mouth came up. “That's exactly what Sondra did when I said it to her.”

Martin glanced out at the nearly empty field they'd used as a parking lot. “She's probably close to Indianapolis as quickly as she left after the show. Can't say as I blame her. She had a long drive back to Louisville. But it's too bad she couldn't spend the holidays with her cousin.”

“That is too bad,” David conceded.

Allison probably would have liked that since she no longer had any extended family around. It would have been special to her since it was the first Christmas for Allison and Brock since they'd married and Joy's adoption had become final. Since they'd become a real family. But he'd heard Sondra himself—nothing could have kept her in town.

“Anyway, I'm sure Allison is proud of you, David. You really came through for her.”

David swallowed hard, somehow still managing to nod before the Wise Man left to return to his banker's life. If David's actions could be called coming through for Allison, then he wondered to what extremes he would have to go to fail her.

Though the performance had been nearly flawless—
if less exciting than last year's chaos—he couldn't take credit for it. He'd done as much to sabotage the show as any of the other performers had done to make it work.

None of the cast or the audience had frozen to death, the livestock hadn't bit anyone or stampeded, and the sound system had managed not to pick up signals from local baby monitors. Best of all, though, the child in the manger stayed plastic and kept quiet during the whole performance.

Despite him, rather because of him, the show had been serene and worshipful. It spoke to everyone there. For a few seconds, it had even affected him, and nothing spiritual had touched him in years. The event had reminded him of his childhood, when all of this—the star, the shepherds, the manger and its heralded occupant—had really meant something.

Fortunately, only the animals had been close enough to see the dramatic subplot that had unfolded right on stage. From up close, audience members would have recognized that the character Mary never met her husband's gaze during the whole performance, and though her shoulders were curved in submission and praise, her hands were fisted.

David knew because he kept looking over at her, hoping to catch her eye and whisper an apology. She didn't give him the chance. Not that he'd deserved one. He'd tested her patience all afternoon.

But she'd pushed him, too. Every word out of her mouth hinted that she didn't think he was good enough for her, whether she came right out and said it or not.
He should have been pleased that she was every bit as disinterested in him as he was in her and yet he'd found her aloofness unsettling.

None of that mattered. He still doubted Allison would be proud of him for any of this. Ashamed—that was a better word. He was ashamed enough for the both of them. He sure hadn't gained any votes by his behavior tonight.

First thing in the morning, he would call Allison to apologize. He would even offer to write a letter to Sondra and apologize to her, too. If he were fortunate, when he threw himself on her mercy, Allison would volunteer to tell Sondra how sorry he was.

He had it in his favor that his best friend was always gracious in accepting apologies. He'd been on the receiving end of her forgiveness enough to know. But this time he probably would have to count on the fact that it would be Christmas Eve when he faced her. He knew, at least he hoped, that no one could stay angry over Christmas.

D
avid had to ring the doorbell three times before anyone answered, but the moment the door swung open, he knew why he'd been asked to apologize in person. Been set up was more like it.

“Good morning, David.” Sondra's greeting sounded forced, but she still wore a victorious smile.

She looked fresh and comfortable in a yellow sweater and jeans, with her short hair tucked behind her ears. Fuzzy slippers covered her feet, suggesting she wasn't on her way out the door.

Surprise must have thrown him off, but for a fleeting second, David couldn't decide whether to give her a nasty look or grab her and kiss her. Fortunately for him, he did neither. “Hello.”

“Hey you guys, catch her, will you?” Allison called from the other room.

As if on cue, a munchkin with a mess of dark curls toddled through Sondra's legs and shot for the door.
David whisked the baby into his arms before the bottoms of her footed pajamas got wet.

“And where do you think you're going, sweetie pea? And where did you get that?” A shaggy teddy bear he'd never seen before dangled from her hand. The toy had matted brown fur and only one remaining button eye.

Joy Chandler clutched the bear to her and answered in the gibberish she still preferred to her limited repertoire of words such as “mama,” “dada,” “ice cream” and, the one he liked best, “Dabe.”

He pushed past Sondra and closed the door before swinging Joy around in his arms. She rewarded him by screeching the coveted word, “Dabe.”

“I bet you were coming out to see me. Well, I was coming in to see you.” He turned her so she was sitting upright on his hip.

“David, Sondra, can you bring her in here?”

“Just a minute.” He released the bundle of energy so he could take his boots off and then followed her padding feet into the family room. Behind him, Sondra hesitated for a second and then followed.

In the comfortable room with overstuffed couches, built-in bookshelves and a TV that wasn't on, Allison rested on a love seat, with a plumped pillow behind her back and an afghan over her knees. Attached to her arm was the long clear tube that connected to the portable IV stand.

“Aren't you thrilled with my surprise?” Allison gestured unnecessarily toward her cousin.

David nodded because his lungs might have exploded if he tried to repeat the word “thrilled.”

“Now you said you wanted to apologize to me for your strange behavior last night. And to someone else. I wanted to give you the opportunity.” She smiled at him, but she didn't gloat.

Was this how animals caught in live cages felt, trapped inside four walls but with the promise of freedom once it was all over?

He looked back and forth between them and finally began. “Ladies, I'm sorry for being a jerk last night. It was stressful enough without me making it worse.”

Allison glanced over at Sondra and then back to him. “Okay, I forgive you, but you probably won't be asked to be Joseph again next year.”

David managed to control his temptation to do a happy dance, as it wouldn't make him appear properly contrite. He turned to Sondra.

She spoke before he had the chance. “I'm sorry, too. I wasn't being very nice, either.”

“Thanks.” He was surprised to realize he wasn't just being polite. Her apology and her acceptance of his gave him a strange relief that he chose not to analyze. “I thought you were trying to leave before the snow came.”

“That's the best part,” Allison interjected.

David jerked around to face his friend, who looked as excited as a child who'd opened all her presents early.

“Sondra volunteered to stay and to help me over the Christmas holidays. Isn't that great?”

“Great.” No one could have missed his lack of enthu
siasm, so he rushed to add, “That will be nice for you to have family around.” The last sounded authentic because he really wanted it for her.

Allison's grin widened. “It's going to be so much fun spending Joy's first real Christmas—well, one that she's awake for anyway—together.” Her eyes filled as she likely remembered last year's Christmas day that she'd spent searching with Brock for Joy's birth mother.

“I'm looking forward to it,” Sondra said. “Here, sweetheart, let me help with that.” She rushed over to the tree to
help
Joy with the half-dozen ornaments the toddler had already thrown on the floor.

He spoke to Sondra while her back was still turned. “I thought you had to get back to work.”

“I don't.” She turned back to him, the pillow-type ornaments gathered in her arms. “My office is on shutdown until January third.”

“And she's going to stay the whole time.” For a woman who'd felt lousy for weeks and was using an IV as an accessory, Allison looked downright giddy. “It will be such a help since Brock's going to have to pull extra holiday shifts at the sheriff's department. It's been tough handling Joy by myself lately.”

David sat on the far arm of the love seat and rested his hands on his thighs to keep them from fisting. If she needed help, she could have come to him. Not this cousin who was never around. “Why didn't you say so, kiddo? You know I could have—”

“David William Wright, you've been doing enough for me lately. More than I ever should've let you.”

“I haven't done anything. Besides—”

She interrupted him again, this time waving the arm that was free of a tube. “
Besides,
you're busy. The election is coming up. Don't you want to get elected?”

He chuckled at that. “I won't get elected if I work right through Christmas. This is a Christian town, and you know it. No one would appreciate me going door-to-door on Christmas Eve unless I was singing carols, and we both know that wouldn't get me any votes.”

She smiled at Sondra conspiratorially. “He's right about that.”

She rubbed her chin for a few seconds, appearing to think it over. “Okay, David, you can help if you want. With all I need to finish, I can't afford to turn down any offers. As behind as I am, I'll never catch up.”

But Sondra shook her head. “We don't need to put David out. Not when I have the time off. I'm sure if you and I work together, we'll get everything done.”

David shook his head just as hard. “She can't help. She needs to rest even if the doctor does agree to take out her IV at this afternoon's appointment.”

“Okay, then I'll do it all myself. The list you wrote isn't too long.” She glanced at David. “Besides, most of the stuff—decorating, cleaning, wrapping gifts—probably isn't up his alley.”

Sondra was doing it again. First, she'd thought she was too good to be set up with him, though he wasn't the slightest bit interested. Now she didn't think he was qualified to do mindless chores. Enough was enough.

“No, I can't promise perfection,” he said, pausing to
suggest that someone else was pledging just that, “but I'll do whatever you need.”

He gave an exaggerated salute as he turned to Allison. “Your Christmas slave, reporting for duty.”

 

Christmas slave indeed,
Sondra thought as she brushed out the house's second and final toilet bowl. A proprietary butler was a better description of David's job title. Every time she started a job, he gave her tips about how her cousin liked things to be done in her house.

“Allison likes her towels tri-folded instead of just in half.”

“Allison likes honey in her tea instead of sugar.”

“Allison wants Joy to have her nap at one-thirty, not one-fifteen, so she'll wake up later.”

Sondra had to admit that he did his share, and he did a good job of cleaning, but if he gave her one more suggestion about what Allison wanted, needed or preferred, she would scream. Besides, he was a guy. How did he even know this stuff about her cousin?

But the answer was simple: time. David had spent far more of it with Allison in the last five years than she had. Her career often had kept her too busy to be with her friends or family, but today it seemed a poor excuse.

She should have been around, especially in the last year when she could have been getting to know Joy. “Dabe” had been there, so the baby loved him instead.

“Are you done with the throne yet?”

Sondra jerked at the sound, hitting her head on the toilet lid. Lifting up, she turned to find him leaning on the
doorjamb with his arms crossed. Nothing like adding
injury
to
insult
. But as much as her head smarted, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her rub it.

“Yes?” She raised an exaggerated eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry about that. I was just going to tell you that I think Allison likes her bathroom—”

She shot out her rubber-gloved hand to interrupt him. “Clean? Yeah, most people do.”

Standing up from the commode, she stepped over to the sink and took her time removing the gloves. “I'm finished. I probably haven't done it just the way she likes, but I'm sure Allison will appreciate having a clean house.”

Instead of pressing forward with whatever advice he'd been about to give, he nodded. “What does that leave?”

“If you've finished dusting in the living room, then the only room left is the kitchen. But we need to get the rest of those gifts in the closet wrapped before Joy wakes up and has a heyday playing in the bows.”

“She'll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.”

For the first time all afternoon, they agreed on something. Sondra couldn't wait to spend this special Christmas with the one-year-old, seeing the excitement in those golden brown eyes. It crossed her mind that this might be the closest she ever came to sharing experiences like that with her own children, but she tucked the notion in the back of her mind where it belonged. No sense dwelling on what she didn't have.

“I'll get the packages and meet you in the family
room.” Before he could offer any suggestions, she added, “I'll be quiet so I won't wake Allison or Joy.”

He nodded and turned the opposite way down the hall. When he was out of sight, Sondra inhaled deeply to calm herself. It was a relief since the air seemed extra thin whenever he was near her.

She found him again in the family room, scissors and cellophane tape already on the floor next to him. With a grunt, she dumped several shopping bags and rolls of wrapping paper on the floor and plopped down next to them.

“You should have let me get all of that.”

“I could handle it myself,” she shot back.

“I know you could.”

She swallowed. “Oh.” How was someone who questioned the motives of chivalrous men supposed to take that? Especially when she was tempted to like it. Unable to resist, she glanced at him.

He wasn't laughing. He looked right back at her, not so long as to be called leering but long enough to transform her legs to gelatin. Fortunately, she was already sitting cross-legged on the floor, so she didn't have the humiliation of having her limbs fold under her. Because she was having a hard time breathing again, she turned away and started wrapping a sweet-faced baby doll.

David set to work, too, creating a wrapping paper and tape glob, topped off with a bow. By his second masterpiece, Sondra couldn't help watching him work.

“What?” he asked with an annoyed expression.

“Ever wrapped presents before?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Hasn't everyone?”

She glanced at his completed pile, and a chuckle bubbled in her throat before she could contain it.

“What are you, the quality inspector?”

“I could have asked you the same question earlier.”

He laughed as he attached a long piece of tape over an awkward-shaped package. “Yeah, forget I asked that. How come you get all of the nice square and rectangle boxes while I get all this round stuff?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Swallowing a giggle, she secured a fancy bow on her last package and curled the ribbons with her scissors. When she caught him staring at her package, she explained, “Mom and I compete to have the prettiest wrapped gifts under the tree.”

“So that's it. The kinds of gifts you see at my parents' house come professionally wrapped from the jeweler. Mother always pretends she doesn't know where they're from, and we sit around wearing suits and ties and chuckling at her guesses.”

“It sounds as if you'll have a blast tomorrow then.”

“I will. I'll be here.”

“Here?” she repeated, ignoring her racing pulse. The last thing she needed was to spend another day with David.

“You don't think I would miss seeing Joy open her presents tomorrow, do you?”

Her lips pulled up. “Of course not. But your parents live in town. Won't they be upset that you won't be there? Mom is sulking that I won't be in Louisville.”

“We'll get together later. They'll barely miss me at dinner since Mother is counting on a meal for twenty-
five. It wouldn't be Christmas at Lloyd and Evelyn Wright's home without the mayor, the sheriff, the town board. Mother's serving squab, I hear.”

“Does your mother pull off a dinner party like that all by herself?”

“Absolutely.” David winked. “Well, she does have the caterer's number on speed dial, and she's careful to set the menu with him by September first.”

“Sounds elegant.”

“Always.”

“And dull.”

“Always.”

Sondra chuckled. “No wonder you're coming here.”

“I can't wait. I'm going to videotape.”

He sounded so excited that she couldn't help smiling until another thought struck her. “Wait. You said dinner. I haven't even talked to Allison about what she wants for the Christmas meal.”

Panic had her hands sweating. She'd had plenty of titles behind her name, but cook was never one of them. Her only claims to fame in the kitchen were abilities to burn water
and
overcook minute rice.