Chapter 7

The day of Christmas Eve was quiet and low-key. I think both of us were a little worn out by the constant activity of the previous week and glad to have a restful day at home.

I spent some time puttering on the computer--no dire emails this time, thank goodness!--and caught up a bit on the novel I was reading. I found a few moments to wrap the St. Christopher medallion I'd bought Mike at the street fair, smiling as I remembered dancing in the square and kissing under the mistletoe. Had it really only been a few days? I was going to miss him when he left.

Jeff called briefly to wish me a merry Christmas. He and Caitlyn were skiing that afternoon, and just like a mom, I cautioned him to be careful on the slopes. He laughed and promised to stick to the beginner trails, a promise we both knew he would never keep. It sounded as if he and Caitlyn were having a wonderful time together, and though I missed him, I was glad he'd gone.

I called Jenny next, and we had a brief conversation. She sounded tired.

"Project keeping you up late?" I teased, and she laughed.

"You could say that," she agreed, chuckling a bit. "I think it'll be worth it, though."

I wanted to ask about that quiet laugh, but decided it was better not to pry. "It will be, I'm sure. And you can tell me all about it when we do New Year's. You are still coming up for that, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," she assured me. "Are you going to be okay tomorrow?"

My turn to reassure her. "I'll be fine. I've got Mike here, and I'll be thinking of you and David and Jeff."

"Well, good. Mom, I-" Jenny hesitated. "Oh, never mind. I'll see you soon."

"What is it, honey?" This wasn't like Jenny at all.

She laughed, and I could picture her tossing her head. "It's nothing, Mom. Just this little project getting to me, I guess. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," I said slowly, though I was dying to say more. But I knew Jenny--once she'd made up her mind not to talk, wild horses couldn't drag a thing out of her. She'd talk when she was ready. I hoped. "Merry Christmas, Jenny."

"Merry Christmas, Mom."

The conversation weighed on me as I went through the rest of the afternoon. I thought about calling David, but I wasn't really sure anything was wrong, and I didn't want to go behind Jenny's back. Jeff probably wouldn't know, either, though they'd always been close, and I didn't want to disrupt his and Caitlyn's holiday.

After dinner, Mike and I snuggled under a blanket on the couch to watch old Christmas favorites. Perhaps it was my melancholy, or maybe we were both worn out from our hectic week, but neither of us felt like doing much more than cuddling up there, his hand cupping my breast and his semi-hard shaft resting against my bottom while Misfit Toys helped Rudolph find his way and the Grinch's beleaguered dog hauled his overloaded sleigh up the snow-covered mountain and teetered on the edge.

When we made our way down the hallway later, Mike stopped outside the door to Jeff's room.

"See you in the morning, Lynne?"

I was a little hurt, but truth to tell, a little relieved, too. It would be nice to have my bed to myself for a night. "Sure." I rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Sleep well."

"You, too."

It was only as I slid between the covers and turned out my lights that I realized I hadn't heard from Margay. Well, it was past eleven--way too late to call now. I'd just have to call her tomorrow.

I woke the next morning full of anticipation and elation, even before I realized what day it was.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered to myself as it hit me.

I looked at the empty place in the bed next to me. Jerry wasn't here to share the holiday with me, as he'd been every year since we were married, and that was a little sad. But we'd had a good and loving life together, created and raised two wonderful children together, and the week with Mike had given me hope that someday, I might have someone to share Christmases with again.

I wouldn't be seeing Jenny and Jeff, but I'd talked to them the day before and I'd be seeing them soon. Their growing up and growing away was part of the natural order of things, and I couldn't be sad about their accomplishments.

And ... I had Mike to share the day with, a fellow soul spending Christmas away from his own family and friends. I had a wonderful place to live, friends I loved, and a job that was developing exciting new possibilities.

Life was good.

"Merry Christmas," I said again, out loud.

I pulled my cozy robe over my PJs and slipped Mike's medallion into the pocket.

He was standing in front of the sliding glass door in the living room, looking out over the balcony. The Christmas tree lights splashed wan puddles of color over his dark hair, T-shirt and sweats. "It's snowing," he murmured without turning around.

"Is it?" The predicted storm had fizzled, but the weather report had suggested we might get a dusting. I moved to stand behind Mike, slipping my arms around his waist. He turned and put his arms around my shoulders and we stood together, looking out. "A white Christmas," I said after a moment.

"Yup." Mike leaned to kiss my cheek. "Merry Christmas."

I turned my head and kissed him back. "Merry Christmas."

"I got you something," we both said at the same time.

"Oh, you shouldn't have!" we both exclaimed in stereo, and laughed. I gestured for him to speak first.

Mike grinned. "Why don't I put on some music while you start coffee, and we'll do the Christmas morning thing?"

Moments later, we sat on the couch, the soft burbling of brewing coffee a gentle counterpoint to carols on the stereo. I pulled Mike's present from my pocket and held it out. "You first."

"All right." He smiled almost shyly and worked one flap loose. I watched anxiously as he tilted the package and the St. Christopher medallion slid into his hand. He gasped. "Lynne! You shouldn't have."