HE’LL be waiting until hell freezes over, Claire silently fumed as she stormed out and sought sanctuary in an empty exam room. Maybe Alex hadn’t orchestrated the scene she’d landed in, but the fact that he would have if he could have irritated her all the more.
He only wants to take you to the party, her little voice chided.
And I don’t want to go, she mentally answered. I want to be left alone, to spend the holiday as I choose.
To feel miserable? It won’t bring Ray back.
Those words seemed to echo in her head before she acknowledged the answer.
No, it wouldn’t change the fact that Ray was gone, but was the answer to her own dilemma as simple as Eddie had made it sound? To simply grant herself permission to enjoy everything the season offered? To enjoy all twelve months, instead of only eleven?
You came here to start over, remember?
She remembered, but it had become habit to associate Christmas with sadness. The thought had barely had time to soak in before she realized one key word.
Habit.
It wasn’t habit, she insisted to herself. Ray’s death had robbed her of her joy of the season, but even as she thought of the way she’d once eagerly anticipated the hustle and bustle of Christmas, she could hear Ray’s favorite expression.
You’re not making lemonade with your lemons, Claire.
He’d been a man who’d rolled with the punches and believed life was for living.
He’d certainly lived it to the fullest, she thought as she recalled one evening in particular. She’d been busy preparing dinner so they could go to the early show that evening, but in the middle of trying to do three things at once, Ray had come in, taken the spoon out of her hand, shut off the stove top and playfully tugged her onto their patio with its westerly view.
“You can’t miss this sunset,” he’d said.
“But our dinner,” she’d wailed. “It’ll be ruined, and we’ll be late.”
“Sometimes food for the soul is better than food for the body,” he’d said before he’d pointed out the spectacular hues in the sky. “As for being late, I don’t think any movie can top this.”
He’d been right. In the end, they’d stayed outside long past the time when their meal could be salvaged. They’d even missed both showings that night, but she’d never regretted their change of plans.
Life was too short to waste a single moment of it, Claire decided. No matter how hard she’d tried to ignore Christmas, it couldn’t be ignored. If following Eddie’s advice helped her jump over this final hurdle, she would.
She closed her eyes and said the necessary words aloud.
Peace immediately flooded over her. The tension she felt from the day when stores began stocking Christmas items disappeared and she hugged her new-found contentment to herself.
She wanted to tell Alex of her revelation, but chose to wait. She had one more Ghost of Christmas Past to lay to rest.
Alex tried to read the evening paper, but the words could have been Egyptian hieroglyphics for all the sense he made of the headlines. He’d intended to gently nudge Claire forward, much like he and Jennie had done with the tree, but he was afraid he’d shoved instead, putting more pressure on her than she could tolerate.
After the incident with Edwina Butler, Claire had kept to herself as she’d carried out her duties, much like when she’d first come to work at the clinic. He was sorry to see her revert to her all-professional demeanor, but he hoped it meant she was simply weighing everything she’d heard from him and from Eddie, not thinking of a way to tell him to find another Christmas-party date.
She’d avoided his gaze all afternoon, although after he’d finished seeing the fifteen-year-old with athlete’s foot, he’d noticed something in her eyes that suggested she’d come to a crossroads. Curiosity was killing him now, just as it had at the time, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d told Claire to let him know of her decision and, as difficult as it was to be patient, he had to wait. If Lady Luck was on his side, he’d eventually hear good news.
“Daddy,” Jennie said, “the buzzer buzzed. Our dinner’s ready.”
He folded the newsprint into a neat rectangle. “It smells good. Did you help Mrs Rowe cook?”
“No. I had to do my homework early ’cause we’re going over to Claire’s. She still has to hem my costume, remember?”
As if he could forget. He usually kept Joshua occupied with toys or a story so Claire and Jennie could work uninterrupted but, all things considered, it might not be a good idea for him to appear on her doorstep tonight. Lying low, giving her space might do more for his cause than not, but would changing their routine hinder or help matters?
“I remember,” he told her.
“Wendy said at recess that her stepfather is sick. Is he going to die?” Jennie asked.
Alex spooned a serving of beef and noodle casserole onto Jennie’s plate. “I’m not expecting him to. Why?”
“Just wondering. Wendy doesn’t like him much. She says he’s mean to her and her mom, especially when he’s been drinking.”
He wasn’t surprised. “Some people aren’t very nice when they don’t feel well.”
“I don’t think he’s nice when he feels good,” Jennie said. “He’s always yelling. He even yells when I’m there.”
This subject was like quicksand and, rather than find himself sucked into its depths, Alex gave it a wide berth. “Wendy’s mother wouldn’t have married him if he didn’t have good qualities.”
“Wendy says he was nicer before they got married than he is now.”
“Unfortunately, that happens. Sometimes you can’t see the other person’s true colors until after the honeymoon is over.” He could certainly speak from experience. He hadn’t realized his ex-wife had been so shallow until their beautiful but flawed Jennie had arrived. He was glad that Donna had left their lives as totally as she had. He’d done everything he could to foster a positive self-image in his daughter and it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Donna would have undermined his efforts if she’d stayed.
He glanced at the kitchen clock. “We’d better hurry if we’re going to be at Claire’s by seven.”
Twenty minutes later, after piling the dishes in the sink to soak, they were on their way. Those few blocks seemed like miles as one thought ran through his head.
Please, let her say yes.
Claire sat on the living-room floor, surrounded by the decorations she’d hauled in from the web-infested corner of the garage. This time, as she opened each package, the sight of their contents evoked more sweet than bitter memories, but the final test would be the long box at the bottom.
Joshua toddled back and forth from Claire to the tree, affixing the ornaments she handed him to the branches in haphazard order. When he returned for his next ball and she didn’t have it ready, he grunted and stomped one foot.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll hurry.”
After several more trips and apparently deciding that he didn’t need her help, he simply pulled a ball from the box and set it on the branch. When it fell off and rolled under the tree, he bellowed his displeasure.
“Hang on,” she told him as she retrieved the shiny red ornament.
Finally, the branches were loaded to Claire’s satisfaction and only the very top remained unadorned. Sitting on the sofa, she carefully opened the last box and removed the angel.
Joshua climbed beside her. Standing on the seat cushion, with one hand on her shoulder for balance, he touched the angel’s hair. “Mama.”
She hugged him. “The angel looks like Mama, doesn’t she? Should we put her on top of the tree?”
“Top,” he demanded.
Claire placed the angel in Joshua’s hands, then carried him to the tree where he placed it, with her help, in the highest place of honor.
He clapped his hands and chortled. “Pwetty angel.”
“Pretty tree.”
He leaned over and kissed her sloppily. “Pwetty Mama.”
She laughed and nuzzled his neck. “Thank you, my handsome little man.”
The doorbell chimed and she glanced at the clock. “That must be Jennie.”
“’Ennie play.” Joshua squirmed and tried to dive to the floor.
“I have to fix her costume first,” she told him.
“’Les play,” he said in an obvious reference to Alex.
It suddenly occurred to Claire that he might not stay like he usually did, that he might feel too uncomfortable in light of her attitude this afternoon. Determined to stop him from leaving if that was his intent, she hurried to the door and flung it open.
As she saw Alex standing next to Jennie, she’d never felt more relieved. “You’re right on time.” She smiled as she welcomed them inside and took their coats.
Alex motioned to the boxes resting in the center of her living room. “Looks like you’re in the middle of something. If you want us to come back later…”
“No,” she said as she hung Jennie’s coat in the closet. “Joshua and I just finished.”
“Dad!” Jennie exclaimed from the living room. “You have to come and see.”
Claire followed Alex and watched him study the tree before his attention seemed to linger on the angel. “You did a beautiful job.” He turned to her. “I thought you weren’t going to decorate it.”
Suddenly feeling nervous, she folded her arms across her chest. “I changed my mind.”
“Obviously.”
“Ray and I bought the angel a few weeks before he died. It was time to let Joshua appreciate it.”
“He will.”
“It looks better on a taller pine, but there’s always next year,” she said, wishing she could read Alex’s thoughts.
“Maybe you can get one as big as ours,” Jennie said.
“We might. We’ll need help to get it through the door, though.” Claire met Alex’s gaze and wondered if he’d heard the hopeful invitation in her voice.
“We’ll help, won’t we, Dad?”
Alex’s regard didn’t waver. “I can’t wait.”
Joshua tugged on Jennie’s hand. “Dwink,” he said. “Firsty.”
She glanced at Claire. “Is it OK if I pour him a drink?” At her nod, Jennie led Joshua into the kitchen.
“My daughter’s making herself at home,” Alex said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She wanted him to say something else, but he didn’t. He wasn’t going to make this easy, she thought, but, then, he’d made it clear that the next move would be hers.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what brought this on,” she said, motioning to the tree.
“I’ll admit to a certain curiosity.” Alex sounded wary, as if he was afraid he might jump to the wrong conclusion.
“You see,” she began slowly, “I heard some good advice today and I decided to take it.” She squared her shoulders and hoped he would read the reassurance in her eyes. “I also decided something else.”
“Like what?” He still sounded cautious.
She inhaled a deep breath. “I’d be honored to go to the clinic party with you next weekend.”
A wide grin spread across his face. “I’d crossed my fingers all day, praying to hear you say that. You won’t regret it,” he promised.
“No,” she answered softly. “I don’t think I will.”
“Are you sure your mother doesn’t mind watching Joshua, too?” Claire asked Alex as he parked in front of his house on the night of the clinic’s annual holiday event. “I hate to impose.”
“She was delighted,” he told her. “It’s been so long since there’s been a baby in the family that she could hardly wait to get her hands on one.”
“I should have dropped him off at Nora’s instead,” she insisted. Leaving Joshua with Alex’s mother might plant a few ideas in people’s heads, and if his mother was like hers, he’d endure sly winks and Cheshire-cat smiles in the weeks and months to come.
“We’ve worked this out,” he said patiently. “Everyone’s happy about the arrangement. Jennie is thrilled; my mother is looking forward to a good cuddle; and knowing her the way I do, Jennie and Josh will have a wonderful time and fall asleep exhausted. Trust me.”
“All right.”
“Good. Now I’ll get Josh and you grab his bag.”
He’d cleared his sidewalk so the surface wasn’t slippery from their early morning dusting of snow, otherwise Claire would have had trouble navigating the distance in her dressiest footwear. She was used to wearing comfortable shoes with an arch support, not these black pumps with their low but narrow heels.
Inside Alex’s home, she dug Joshua out of his blanket cocoon. As soon as he saw Jennie, a smile spread from ear to ear and he followed her like a child after the Pied Piper.
“You must be Claire,” Eleanor Ridgeway said as she came from the living room to greet her.
Claire smiled at the woman who was tall, stately, and every bit as distinguished as her handsome son. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Ridgeway.”
“Please, call me Eleanor. Don’t worry about young Joshua a bit. We’re going to get along famously. I taught preschool for years so I’ve learned a few tricks of the trade.”
“Joshua doesn’t take long to warm to people,” Claire said. “He’s used to seeing new faces at his day care.”
“Excellent! Now, you two run along and have a wonderful time. If I need you, I have Alex’s cell phone and pager numbers. Memorized, in fact.”
“I packed Joshua’s snuggle bunny,” Claire said. “He won’t go to sleep without it.”
“I’ll be sure he has it.”
She glanced at Alex. “I guess that’s everything.” Oddly enough, in spite of getting caught up in the party fever affecting everyone at the clinic, she was still nervous about the upcoming evening. Attending this function with the most handsome bachelor in their organization was a heady experience. Even her punch-and-eggnog assignment didn’t dampen her spirits because Alex had volunteered to be her partner.
“Then we’re off,” he said cheerfully.
It was the medical clinic’s Christmas tradition to reserve the entire Pleasant Valley Country Club for their holiday bash, and as Alex drove onto the winding road that led to the front door, it was obvious someone had transformed the building into a magical place.
Garlands and white twinkly lights were wound around the pillars standing sentinel at the front door. Young men dressed in black coats and red bow-ties stood at the ready to whisk the cars away for the guests.
“I can’t believe Henry agreed to foot the bill for valet parking,” Claire said as their turn came.
“He’s a firm believer in not drinking and driving,” Alex said. “The staff is under strict orders not to hand over the keys to anyone who might be intoxicated. He insists the expense is worth every penny, and I agree. Can you imagine the public relations nightmare if someone from the clinic was involved in an alcohol-related accident?”
She shuddered. “I wouldn’t want to walk in that person’s shoes.”
Inside the club, every surface was dripping with holly, pine boughs and garlands, twinkly lights and elegant red, gold and green satin bows. As he guided her to the room where they could check in their coats, she was extremely conscious of his arm hovering at her back.
What really sent her heart soaring was the look of appreciation in Alex’s eyes once she’d removed her coat. It was the same look she’d seen when he’d arrived at her house and it held enough heat to compensate for what her gown didn’t cover.
Nora had insisted on shopping for a special dress and they’d found a sleeveless, low-cut white beaded top that was the perfect match for an ankle-length slim, black shimmery skirt. According to the sales clerk, the slit down one side revealed enough thigh to dazzle her date.
From Alex’s expression, the woman had been right.
He was no slouch in the dressing department either. His black suit jacket stretched across broad shoulders and his pleated trousers clung to powerful legs. To Claire, he simply outshone every other male in the room and the realization made it nearly impossible for her to think and breathe at the same time.
Inside the ballroom, the decorating committee had outdone themselves. The room had been transformed into a winter wonderland scene, complete with sheer blue and silver ribbon streamers, blue and silver balloons, blue candles surrounded by fake snow on every table, and what had to be miles and miles of twinkly lights.
A swan ice sculpture stood in the center of a buffet table loaded with artfully arranged finger food. A string quartet played softly in the background, although later in the evening a jazz band was to replace them.
In spite of her three-year hiatus, company Christmas parties hadn’t changed. Conversation hummed, glassware clinked, laughter occasionally broke out, and women wore glittery gowns that hadn’t left their closets since the previous December.
Claire leaned closer to Alex. “Are the parties always this impressive?”
“I’ve only been to one other, but it was definitely on the same grand scale. Shall we mingle before we take over our serving duties, or eat first?”
“Eat,” she said promptly.
“A woman after my own heart,” he said as he guided her to the buffet.
After Claire had filled her plate with everything from jumbo shrimp to bite-sized cheesecakes, she stopped by the beverage table where Nora and their receptionist, Roberta, were filling glass cups with non-alcoholic punch or eggnog.
“How’s business?” Claire asked Nora.
“Steady,” she answered. “Can I give you a sample or are you going for the hard stuff?”
“Punch, please,” Claire said.
“What about you?” Nora addressed Alex.
“The same.”
Nora handed them each a cup, the handles facing them. “Part of our group latched onto a table near the north bar. There’s plenty of room for you two.”
“Great,” Alex exclaimed.
“We’ll expect you back in thirty minutes,” Nora said. “So eat fast.”
“We will,” Claire promised.
Nora leaned closer. “Keep an eye on Eric.”
Alex glanced over at their reserved spot and frowned. His height gave him an advantage over Claire because she couldn’t see over the crowd, but whatever fell in Alex’s line of vision clearly didn’t please him. “Arrived early, did he?”
“Half an hour ago, but he’s drinking champagne like it’s water.”
“Thanks for the warning,” he answered.
“What’s the matter with Dr Halverson?” Claire asked as they ambled through the crowd to reach the rest of the family practice group.
“The woman he’s been living with issued an ultimatum yesterday.”
“What sort of ultimatum?”
“Either he puts a ring on her finger or she’s history.”
“Ah. He’s obviously alone, so I presume he’s celebrating his new-found freedom?”
“It’s more a case of drowning his sorrows,” he corrected.
“Why? It’s his decision, so he has no one to blame but himself.”
“That’s the problem. He’s been married before and swore he never would be again. I think he really loves this gal, but he’s afraid to commit.” He greeted his partners and introduced Claire to Dennis’s wife, Sharon, and Tanya, Mike’s spouse. No one seemed surprised to see that Alex had brought Claire, which helped her to feel less like she was on display.
“Has anyone seen Henry?” he asked after they were seated.
Eric motioned to the stage with his champagne flute. “He was testing the microphone a few minutes ago.”
“Who’ll announce the winner of the decorating contest?” Tanya asked.
“Henry, his cronies and Dianne usually do,” Eric said before he gestured to the waiter for a refill.
Dianne was the business director of the Pleasant Valley Clinic and rumor claimed that nothing happened, good or bad, big or little, without her knowledge.
“Hey, Eric,” Mike said, “how many of those have you had?”
“Not enough.” He accepted another glass. “But don’t worry. When I hit my limit, I’ll stop.”
“How many is your limit?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know, but when I decide, I’ll let you know.”
Claire heard the pain in his voice and wished she knew what to say. Everyone else obviously felt the same, because Eric’s three partners exchanged uneasy glances.
“Hey, now,” Eric protested. “Don’t look so down in the dumps. It’s a party. We’re supposed to have fun. So let’s toast.” He raised his glass. “Let the good times roll.” He drained the contents, then slammed the glass on the table.
His cheerful mood suddenly became solemn. “Oh, hell,” he murmured. “Are we having fun yet?”
“You aren’t,” Alex said. “You need something to eat.”
“Later.” Eric glanced around the table. “First, I have a question to ask. You wives, go powder your noses.”
“What if we don’t want to?” Tanya asked. At Eric’s frown, she rose. “OK. I know where I’m not wanted.”
“Me, too,” Sharon chimed in. “Claire, are you coming?”
“I’m not a wife. I’m exempt,” she answered with a smile. “My shift at the NAB table will start soon, and I hate to waste this good food.” She pointed to her plate.
“NAB table?” Dennis sounded puzzled. “What’s that?”
His wife nudged him. “Non-alcoholic beverage.”
“Ah,” he said. Then, with a shrug, he added, “Learn something every day.”
“How comforting,” Sharon teased as she rose. “Claire, keep these guys in line while we’re gone.”
The two women left Claire at the table full of men, feeling oddly out of place. She addressed her plate of appetizers and tried to be invisible.
Eric spoke to Dennis. “Tell me the truth. If you could relive your life, would you get married again?” He blinked at his colleague then brushed off his question with one hand. “Your honeymoon isn’t over yet. Forget I asked you.”
He faced Mike and posed the same question. “Sure,” Mike answered. “No question about it.”
Eric looked at Alex. “What about you?”
Alex’s gaze landed on Claire and she felt the heat she’d always felt in his presence, only several degrees hotter. “With the right woman, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
Somehow Claire sensed his answer wasn’t hypothetical, and the thrill of knowing someone wanted her, really wanted her, made her toes tingle to the point where she could hardly stand to wear her shoes. In fact, her entire body tingled, and in places that hadn’t tingled in years.
“Claire’s widowed,” Dennis said. “Why don’t you get a woman’s perspective?”
Eric nodded. “All right. Claire? If you’d had a horrible first marriage, would you be willing to try it again?”
Claire looked at Alex as she answered. “I don’t know what I’d do if I’d had a bad experience the first time around. My marriage was wonderful, but I’d hope the second one would be just as fulfilling.”
“Or in my case, just as bad.”
“Whatever happened before doesn’t count,” she insisted. “Not only are the circumstances different, but there are two different people involved now, including yourself. You’d have a fresh slate. The fate of any marriage depends on how much each person is willing to invest in the relationship.”
“Hear, hear.” Mike raised his eggnog in a toast.
“So your bottom line is yes?” Dennis asked.
She should have known the men wanted a simple answer instead of her convoluted explanation.
“Without a doubt,” she replied, before she noticed how the three physicians stared at her and Alex in open speculation. Suddenly embarrassed, she picked up her glass of punch and took a long drink, hoping it would cool her overheated face.
“There you have it, Eric,” Alex said lightly. “The answers were unanimous. Now, if I were you, I’d pay attention to what Claire said about you being a different person in different circumstances, then call Jody and pop the question.”
“First you’d better tell her what a fool you’ve been,” Mike interjected. “Women will always forgive you if say that.”
Dennis guffawed. “Is that the voice of experience talking?”
Mike grinned. “It works, so don’t knock it.”
“Do you love her?” Claire asked kindly, aware that if they’d been anywhere but at this party, she wouldn’t have dared to pose such a personal question to a person she knew only in passing.
He didn’t answer at first, then he nodded, his eyes bleak.
“Then what are you doing here?” Dennis scolded. “Go ask her to marry you and put you out of your misery.”
“And if she says yes, bring her to the party and we’ll have a real reason to celebrate,” Alex said.
Eric rose and squared his shoulders. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“If I might make a suggestion,” Claire offered, “I’d drink a gallon of coffee first. I doubt if she’ll appreciate a proposal if she knows your courage came out of a bottle.”
Mike leaned over to Alex, but spoke in a tone that everyone could hear. “By gosh, Alex. She’s smart and gorgeous. How did you get to be so lucky?”
“Clean living,” he answered promptly.
The men laughed and the somber mood that had hung over the table lifted. Eric went in search of coffee, although now that he’d made his decision he seemed more sober than he had moments earlier.
“Do you think he’ll really follow through?” Claire asked on their way to relieve Nora and Roberta.
“He will,” Alex said. “We could tell he loved her months ago, but he didn’t admit it until now.”
“I hope they’re both happy.”
“So do I.” He stopped before they reached their destination. “Did you mean what you said about marrying again?”
“Did you?”
“Every word.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
A broad smile appeared on his face and for the next two hours, whenever their glances met, she swore the ice in the punch bowl melted. Maybe she was crazy to feel this way so soon after she’d worked through her issues concerning Christmas, but after three years she was simply making up for lost time.
In spite of their steady stream of customers, Claire was extremely conscious of Alex’s nearness. When Henry and Dianne took to the stage for the announcements and the crowd quieted, he moved in close enough for his coat to brush against her bare arm. Goose-bumps rose on her skin and she rubbed them away, certain everyone nearby could notice the sparks arcing between them.
“Cold?” he murmured in her ear.
“No,” she said honestly. “Nervous.”
“About the contest?”
She shook her head.
“Then what?”
Words failed her. How could she say that he was making her nervous by making her feel things she hadn’t for a long time?
Suddenly, he gave her a feral grin. “Why, Ms Westin, am I making you nervous?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” she said lightly, hoping her warm face hadn’t turned pink enough for him to notice.
“I have my ways,” he said. “But for the record, I’m looking forward to the end of our shift.”
Anticipation shimmied down her spine. “You are? Why?”
Before he could reply, Henry gave his “Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday” speech to all the clinic staff. Then Dianne began announcing the tree contest winners. Most traditional went to Orthopedics for their old-fashioned gold balls and garlands; most whimsical went to Oncology for using every kids’ meal toy supplied by fast-food restaurants; and most unusual went to the lab and radiology departments who’d joined forces and decorated their tree with test tubes, syringes, stethoscopes, old-fashioned mercury thermometers—minus the mercury—and X-ray film cut into shapes of body parts. Non-X-rated, of course.
“And the grand prize, which is given by popular vote from the entire staff,” Dianne announced from the podium, “goes to…” A hush fell over the room. “Family Practice for their snowflake tree. Congratulations to Claire Westin and Alex Ridgeway.”
The crowd erupted with applause and Claire stared at Alex, who appeared equally stunned. “We won?” she asked. “Did I hear her right? We won?”
He smiled. “We did.”
“Oh, my.” She cupped her face in her hands. “Oh, my. I can’t believe it. There must be some mistake.”
“I don’t think so.”
The band struck up and people headed for the dance floor as others congratulated them.
When the excitement died down and Dennis and his wife arrived to take over from them, Alex spoke into her ear.
“Do you know what would be a really big mistake?”
“No.”
“If we don’t walk onto the dance floor this minute.”
“You want to dance?” Somehow he’d never struck her as the dancing type.
“Why do you think I wanted you at this party?”
“For my scintillating conversation?” she joked to hide her jitters at the notion of being nestled against him as they swayed to the music.
“Close.” He held out his hand, but she hesitated, instinctively knowing that once she did, she’d officially start a new chapter. What a scary thought.
“You’ve come this far,” he urged. “Don’t stop now.”
Claire couldn’t go back and didn’t want to stay frozen in her current state, which meant the only way to go now was forward. Slowly, uncertainly she slipped her palm against his and his warm, strong fingers closed around her own. He’d never appeared more satisfied than he did at that moment.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Before she could answer, he headed for the dance floor. “Come on. I don’t want to waste a single note.”