McDonald_MM_GEN_Dec2013 (7 page)

Eve folded the napkin and carefully placed silverware on it. “Would that be the grand plans we had for making sure my sink didn’t leak all over my kitchen again today? It’s alright—truly. There’s no need to feel guilty at all.”

Joyce nodded. “I know Greg misses Sam coming by, but I didn’t mean for lighting the pilot to lead to cleaning the furnace filter and sealing the garage door. And on Christmas day too. That’s just not fair.”

Eve laughed. “Sam is getting food out of rescuing you. I couldn’t even feed him last night. The best I could offer was a shot of good bourbon to warm him up and some crackers and cheese. At least this time, Sam rescued a woman with a full holiday meal just waiting to be eaten.”

She smiled when Joyce laughed at her teasing, but really it was true. For Christmas dinner, she had been planning to warm up a can of soup or the pasta leftovers still in her refrigerator.

“You’re still being an awfully good sport,” Joyce said, shaking her head. “I don’t know if I’d be so understanding in your shoes.”

Eve shrugged. “What shoes? My kids are out of town. I was happy to tag along and have something to do. It’s better than staying home and watching the parade on TV.”

“Well, I’m really glad you came, Eve. It’s nice to meet you at last. I listen to your show all the time,” Joyce said.

“
My show?
You listen to my show?” Eve exclaimed. She never said anything to new acquaintances about her radio show until she was certain they weren’t going to judge her.

“Sam talks about you all the time. I hope it’s okay that he told us. Your show is wonderful. Greg and I listen to it as we’re going to bed. You have a very soothing way about you.”

Eve felt her eyebrows raise in mild surprise. She still got a little shocked each time she found a new fan of her show. “Oh . . . well . . . thank you. I didn’t realize Sam had said anything about me or my work.”

Eve saw the older woman smile at her comment and drop her gaze.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Eve? It’s none of my business, but you seem so nice, and I just have to ask,” Joyce said softly.

Eve put silverware by the last plate and took her time answering. She was stumbling around in her head for a polite way to say “yes, I do mind talking about myself and my work” when Joyce spoke again.

“Are you and Sam dating?”

Biting her lip, Eve decided to err on the side of discretion, especially since she had no freaking idea what Sam had actually told his in-laws. Had he mentioned their mistletoe madness? Hopefully not.

“Sam and I are long-time friends. Well . . . and future in-laws now that our children are engaged. We’ve known each other since he and Angeline bought the house down the street from us.”

Eve ducked her head a little as she tried to catch Joyce’s eyes. The woman wouldn’t look at her.

“Why do you ask, Joyce?”

“No reason really,” Joyce said, shrugging. “Sam told us he was dating and I just thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. He’s certainly under no obligation to bring his dates to us for approval. I guess I can only hope he’s dating women as nice as you.”

“Does his dating bother you?” Eve asked.

“Oh heavens no,” Joyce said quickly. “Sam is a wonderful man, and was a wonderful husband to Angeline. She gave him strict orders not to grieve long for her and to move on as soon as he could. Greg and I both want him to find someone. We just hope the woman doesn’t take him completely away from us. It would be like losing another child.”

Eve nodded. She got that. She really got that. Nathan had been showing up to court Megan for years. He was like Rick to her. She could only see her affection for Sam’s son deepening over time.

“You know, I’ve known Sam for over a decade. He’s never going to let anyone take him completely away from the people he cares about. Plus Nathan and Megan would never let him be with someone like that. And since I’m his friend, I would never let it happen either. So you can set that worry completely aside. If Sam gets caught up with some selfish dizzy-lizzy, there are lots of people to set him straight.”

Joyce laughed. “Dizzy-lizzy. That’s a good one. Do you still see your in-laws?”

Eve shook her head. “No, but it’s different in my case. They live in Arizona and not just across town. I call them a few times a year. Now and again I ship a grandchild out to visit for a few days. They’re good people, but I’m not as close to them as Sam is to you and Greg.”

“Sam has a large capacity to love,” Joyce said. “Any woman would be lucky to have him. And he loves to laugh. And tease . . . he’s a terrible tease.”

Eve laughed at how well that described him. “I definitely agree with you on all of that.”

“You know, your laugh sounds exactly the way it does on the radio,” Joyce said.

The comment made Eve laugh again. “Thank you—I guess. Is that a good thing?”

“Oh yes. You’re so much fun. Do you date at all? Sam said it’s been three years since your husband died and that you don’t go out with anyone. Now that I’ve met you, it’s seems more of a shame than when he told us about it.”

“Wow—Sam’s a regular little gossiping bee, isn’t he? Did he tell you the color of my underwear?”

Joyce laughed and winked. “Probably only because he hasn’t seen them. The man does love to brag, even if it’s mostly teasing.”

Eve thought about Sam stripping the sweatpants off her last night. She was pretty sure he’d seen her panties. But she’d absolutely kill him if he told Joyce or Greg about what happened.

A bell dinged in the kitchen, saving her from further awkward conversation, and maybe saying something revealing about her evolving relationship with Sam.

“Oh good. The turkey’s done,” Joyce said.

Eve laughed and felt great relief as she watched the older woman walk quickly away. Why had Sam told Angeline’s parents so much about her? To distract herself from thinking too long and too hard about it, she turned and surveyed the room. Her gaze landed on an antique buffet lined with at least thirty framed photos.

Walking over, she looked at each one, recognizing a beautiful young woman and a young Sam gradually aging with every new picture she saw. There were also some of Nathan looking very much like a younger Sam. She picked up a particularly beautiful picture showing an obviously proud man with his arms around his wife and his son.

Despite her growing romantic interest in Sam herself, she was not a bit jealous of his past. David had been like that with her and the kids. Neither she nor Sam had arrived where they were in their lives without their fair share of previous love and heartache. The only unknown was what they intended to do with what was unfolding between them.

“I think in that picture they were in their late twenties. Nathan was about three or four,” Joyce said.

Eve turned her best smile towards Joyce. “They look incredibly happy together.”

“I believe they were,” Joyce said softly, coming over to peer at the photo. “Sam was the only man that ever made Angeline that happy. I was glad she married him and more glad of it when I saw how loyal he was when she got too sick to be a wife to him. He was loving, supportive, and steadfast beyond what I think most men would have been. It’s probably why I want to see him with someone as good and wonderful as he is. Life is too short to not live it fully.”

Eve set the photo back down. “Sam said that to me yesterday. I didn’t know he was quoting you.”

“He wasn’t,” Joyce said. “I was quoting
him
just now.”

Eve laughed again, unsure what else to do. Looking back at the photo, she almost squealed when Joyce touched her arm.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Joyce asked in a whisper.

Nodding, Eve swallowed hard, almost afraid to hear.

“I think Sam has a big crush on you. Other than Angeline, you’re the only woman I’ve ever heard him talk about. He always smiles when he says your name,” Joyce said.

They stepped apart when they heard male voices and booted footsteps in the kitchen.

“Everything’s ready. Let’s set the table and have ourselves a feast,” Joyce said, patting her arm before heading off to the kitchen once more.

Eve set the photo back on the buffet before Sam and Greg came and caught her sighing over it.

Eve smiled as she turned from watching what was going on outside the car window. The man beside her was no enigma. On the contrary, his face was very familiar to her. She had seen that face with shaving nicks, with a beard, and scraped as clean as a twenty-five year old’s. Even though Sam still looked a bit like the young man in his mother-in-law’s photos, the older version was still easily one of the most handsome, masculine men she had ever known.

She shook her head to clear it of such strange thoughts. Maybe it was the intimacy of the car making her suddenly notice every little thing about Sam. For example, today he smelled like the woodsy cologne he had been using lately. It was something new, something he’d only been wearing for a couple of months. Before that, he’d smelled like the ocean. She’d like the ocean smell on him too, even though she’d never mentioned it. Commenting on how he smelled had always seemed too personal to her.

Now that she saw things differently, she realized that Sam had been quietly changing for some time. She had noticed the many little differences in his behaviors and choices, but had chosen not to comment on any of them, just like she’d said nothing about his new cologne.

Not commenting on personal things or asking meaningful questions had been a long-time comfortable pattern between them. They got to have each other’s company without taking any risks of getting closer. But the physical intimacy they seemed to be heading for would definitely require a deeper personal connection. Or at least it would for her. Eve figured the man beside must fundamentally work like that too, given how many personal things he’d been sharing with her over the last couple of days.

“You’re being awfully quiet. Did Joyce talk your ear off?” Sam asked.

“No. It’s because I make my living talking. Sometimes I like a good, comfortable quiet,” she said.

Sam grinned in the fading daylight. It was barely seven thirty and yet dark as midnight outside the car. In her red dress and red coat, Eve and her brightly colored blonde hair lit up the car’s interior every time the street lights illuminated her. “You look like Christmas is supposed to look.”

Eve glanced sideways and laughed. “It’s fascinating how your mind works. I don’t know why I never noticed before. You broke our comfortable silence with a compliment meant to make me swoon in delight. Who knew you were a closet romantic?”

Sam grinned. “I love the way you talk. Swoon in delight. No one says stuff like that anymore, but you do. And you do it over the air during your show.”

Sighing, Eve shook her head. “You’re just as poetic with those compliments you toss out randomly. I bet you kept your wife on her toes trying to earn more of them.”

“Not really,” Sam said. “Angeline always thought I was being silly, even when I was being serious. My romantic side was a bit much for her. Was David romantic?”

“No. Not at all. David would buy me a new bathrobe for Christmas—every Christmas. He did that for most of our married life together. And the bathrobe was not a sexy one. No sir. It was a good, sturdy bathrobe that was fluffy and warm all winter. By the following Christmas, the old one hit the giveaway bag when he would insist I start using the new one. Only the color changed from year to year. When he bought me sapphire earrings for our twentieth anniversary, I was speechless for a good ten minutes,” Eve said, the memory hitting her as hard as it always did. “And then I got mushy and cried every time I looked at them afterward. David never bought me another bathrobe after that. I loved him more for figuring it out.”

Sam laughed. “I loved my wife too, even if she wasn’t very romantic. Angeline was enthusiastic and saw good in everything. It’s nice to live with someone like that.”

“I could tell you loved her from all the pictures,” Eve said. “Nathan tells Megan he wants to be just like you and love her the way you loved his mother. From what I can tell, he’s made a damn good start. I’m definitely going to like having your son in my family, Sam.”

“I think I’m starting to understand what Angeline meant by the compliments making her feel more uncomfortable than charmed,” Sam said.

Eve giggled at his embarrassed reaction to her praise. “How can you be man enough to dish out compliments, but a wimp about taking them? Face it buster, the women in your life think you’re wonderful. It’s no wonder you’re arrogant. It’s probably a natural by-product of all that success you innately have with anyone oozing estrogen.”

“Is any of my success working with you?” Sam asked.

“Not really. My estrogen level is waning these days,” Eve said. “But I have enough to know quality testosterone when it walks under my mistletoe. At my age, you have to rely on your brain as much as your body to know such things. However, I’m willing to let you kiss me again just to see if you’re still able to get my motor running like you’ve been doing. According to Hilde, that’s the kind of man I need in my life.”

Sam shook his head. “Are you ever going to give me a straight answer to any question I ask about your interest in me?”

“Depends on the question,” Eve said.

Sam grinned in the darkness between them. She could see his pleased smirk when the street lamps lit the car.

“Your confusion is your own fault, Sam. If you would have let me get drunk enough last night, I’d have let you give me one of those dozen orgasms you bragged about being capable of and we’d already be lovers. I think my mood has shifted since I’ve had dinner with your dead wife’s parents. This entire day has been spent feeling guilty about lusting for you.”

“You’re lusting for me?” Sam demanded, splitting his attention between her and the road.

Eve laughed. “No. I’m just thinking about your kiss every three seconds and walking around in wet underwear for the first time in three years. That may or may not be lust. It could be something else—like temporary insanity. Or desperation. I hear that often happens to women my age.”