Authors: Fern Michaels
"As a matter of fact, I do have a truck. A Bronco. It's Riley's." Only then did Cole reach out to hug Sawyer. She
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stood, a huge grin on her face, tapping her foot in pretended impatience. "Nope," he reassured her. "The cat is not out of the bag. Your intended doesn't suspect a thing."
"Riley get here?" Sawyer asked. Cole nodded. "You two still not speaking?" Cole nodded again—grimly this time.
"You let me talk to him. I'll straighten him right out," Sumi said tartly.
"No, no, you can't do that. I have to do it. Promise me," Cole implored.
"Okay. But if your way doesn't work, then I get a chance. Promise?"
"This is Christmas, a time of miracles. Let's pray there is one," Cole said.
"This will be my first real Christmas. I can't wait to see your tree and all the decorations," Sumi cried excitedly.
"You're in for a treat. We sort of get carried away on Christmas."
"That's what my father said. He wanted me to experience what he called a Coleman hoedown, or was it shindig? I can't remember."
"Either will do just fine. Let's get you through Customs and pick up those presents and be on our way. They're waiting for us. I think this is going to be the best Christmas ever."
The Bronco was jammed to the top with boxes of every size and shape. Cole was forced to use the side mirror to see behind him.
"It's snowing!" Sumi cried excitedly.
"It's supposed to snow on Christmas. It's part of the miracle."
"I believe in miracles. My family despaired of me ever finding a man of my own. My father has always said I was too forward. Do you still love me, Cole?"
"More than ever."
Sumi smiled. "I will love you for all of my life," she said softly. In the backseat, Sawyer was still smiling. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Soon she'd see Adam....
"Oh, shit!" Cole said softly. "I wanted this to be perfect. I had this plan. I was going to tell you... you know.. . that I loved you. ... It was going to be romantic. We'd toast each other with wine.... I wanted us to be alone with the Christmas tree... our first Christmas.... You know what I mean. I love you, Sumi."
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"I love you, too, Cole. The minute I saw you standing in my father's garden, I knew."
"I've always felt something special for your father. I don't know when it happened or how it happened. I guess it was the time he came to Texas when Riley and I were in trouble. I think it was the look in his eyes. He didn't know me, and yet he believed me. I've never forgotten it. We spoke of it when I visited him."
"My father is a very wise and gentle man. Riley has broken his heart, but he will not admit this. You've mended it for him, Cole."
"No, Sumi, only Riley can mend that break. Listen, can we talk about something else now? We're almost home."
"Your letters were beautiful, Cole. Every day I waited for the postman."
"I wished you had written more often," Cole said.
"A proper Japanese lady does not do anything that could be considered forward."
"I thought you said you wanted to be treated like an American."
"I do. At times. At other times I want to be treated like a Japanese."
"How am I supposed to recognize those times?" Cole grumbled good-naturedly.
"Because I will tell you."
"That's what I thought. Mam said you were a live wire."
"Your Mam is right." Sumi laughed. She turned around in her seat. "I am a live wire, right, Sawyer?"
"Hear, hear," said Sawyer.
"We're here." Cole reached over and took Sumi's hand in both of his. "I'm glad you came."
"I'm glad you had the good sense to ask me. The Japanese in me wouldn't permit me to be forward and invite myself."
Sawyer raced into the house ahead of them, leaving her bags in the Bronco. Cole could hear her yelling, "Surprise!" as she opened the front door. He squeezed Sumi's hand. "Come on, Sumi," he said. "Time to meet the family."
Amelia dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. She knew why they were here. Her family. Her special miracle this Christmas. She wondered which one of the family had arranged all of this. Billie? Maggie? Her eyes circled the room. Cole's roguish wink and his thumbs-up salute made the tears run down her cheeks.
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She didn't bother to wipe them away this time.
Family.
Sawyer cuddled with Adam. Cole cuddled with Sumi. Everyone smiled indulgently.
"I guess this means we have to give up our wild, wicked life, eh, Sumi?" Sawyer said devilishly.
"Looks that way," Sumi said.
"No confessions! I can't bear it," Adam said in mock horror.
Cary watched Amelia and Julie talking together. He thought his heart would break. He wondered what they were talking about. Billie was joining them. Billie always made things right. Julie was acting like the invited guest she was, doing and saying all the right things. She'd looked right through him twice when their eyes met. He'd been the one to look away first.
Didn't she care? Didn't she know he cared? They hadn't spoken since their Hawaiian vacation. He'd left one message on her machine, and when he called back, the machine was off. He'd wanted to tell her about Amelia. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. In the end he did what he thought she wanted: he never called again. All the memories flooded back. How could she act so normal? How?
The urge to grab her, to drag her away to some quiet place to talk, was so strong that he had to fight with himself, force himself to walk over to Thad and try to make conversation. Being around Thad was like sitting in a peaceful church, knowing that when you left, things would be all right.
{{{{{{{{{ CHAPTER }}}))}}}}
TWENTY-ONE fffnnn
The passengers were calm now that they were airborne, relieved that they would arrive at their destinations in time for Christmas. The plane was safely off the ground and climbing steadily above the storm. Chesney waited for calm to replace the stress she'd felt since awakening this morning. She did her best to relax, but the fact that the FASTEN SEAT BELT and the NO SMOKING signs were still on meant they weren't out of the woods yet. When they reached their cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand
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feet, maybe she would be able to relax. The spooky feeling, her premonition, was still as strong as ever. She wished she knew what the others were thinking. She stretched her neck to see Patty. Patty sensed Chesney's gaze, turned, and smiled wanly. She gave an infinitesimal shake of her head. Patty was still scared; Chesney could see it in her eyes.
The L1011 continued to bounce and rock in its upward climb. When it finally leveled off and the captain addressed the passengers, Chesney heard the relief in his voice. "We've reached our cruising altitude, so I suggest you all sit back and enjoy the ride. Miss Brighton and her crew will start serving dinner and drinks. This is Christmas Eve, so the drinks are on London Air. On behalf of the entire crew and myself, we want to wish you all a Merry Christmas."
"What's so merry?" Chesney muttered under her breath.
"I'm hungry and I want Gus," Molly Sanders whimpered. "I want Gus," she repeated.
"The girls are getting dinner ready, Molly. Did your mommy tell you that Gus had to stay in a special place till we land?"
"She gave Gus a pill to make him sleep. Gus can sleep on my lap. He won't pee. I'll tell him not to pee. Can you get Gus?" Molly's thumb went into her mouth as soon as she finished talking.
It was Christmas Eve and a time for special things to happen. Chesney wondered if the captain would okay Gus's release for the little girl. "How big is Gus, Molly?"
"This big," Molly said, holding her hands apart. "He fits on my lap."
In a child's mind, "this big" could mean just about anything. "What kind of dog is he, Molly; do you know?"
Molly bobbed her head. "He's brown." Chesney smiled.
"No, honey, I mean is he a poodle, a mutt, or Yorkie?"
The little girl's head kept bobbing. Her eyes filled with tears. Her thumb was still in her mouth. "He's Gus," she mumbled tearfully.
"Okay, let me see what I can do. Promise me to keep your seat belt on, okay?" Molly nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Chesney made her way back to the cockpit. She rapped softly and was told to enter. "Captain, could I speak to you a minute?"
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"Bored already? Nothing to do? The passengers behaving themselves?"
"All but one." Chesney grinned. She explained Molly's request, starting off with "This is Christmas Eve" and ending with "Captain, this is Christmas Eve."
"You made your point. I don't see what harm it could do. Why not? Send one of those boys from the ski team in here. I'll show him the layout of the cargo area and where Gus should be. According to this list, Gus is a seven-pound Yorkshire terrier. I guess we can all hold up if he decides to ... ah, pee." The copilot burst out laughing. Chesney tried to hide her smile, but when Captain Andrews chucked her under the chin, she laughed,too.
Chesney made her way through first class and into the galley separating the forward section from the tourist class. It was easy to spot the skiers in their green and yellow ski sweaters. She selected a young man sitting on the end of the row and crooked her finger at him. When he mouthed the word "Me?" Chesney nodded. When they reached the galley she explained the situation.
"No problem; I'm a dog lover myself, love. Show me the way."
A short time later, he had the pooch under his sweater. The skier crooned to the frightened puppy.
A sudden wail of distress from the midsection of the plane set the fine hairs on the back of Chesney's neck to dancing. It was Molly. The dog's ears went up, his eyes snapped open, and his tail started to wag, all at once. He was out of the skier's arms in a second, yapping and leaping his way over seats to get to Molly. There was a smile on everyone's face when Chesney announced, "Santa dropped that pup down the hatch for little Molly." No one questioned the word "hatch" or that the plane didn't have one. Everyone was laughing and staring as Gus licked Molly's face and even the teddy bear. It was obvious that Molly, the teddy bear, and Gus were a team. Rules were meant to be broken once in a while.
Chesney forgot her fear for a little while as she set about clearing the dinner trays. From time to time her eyes went to Molly, who was sleeping with Gus in the crook of one arm, her teddy in the other.
Flight 214 maintained its cruising altitude. They were well into their flight when Chesney's nerves started to act up. She looked around to see if the passengers were doing something
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other than reading or dozing. Everything looked normal; for the moment it was like any other flight. Little Molly was starting to stir. Half the ski team was reading, the other half discussing their racing times and how they hoped to beat their competition when they reached Chamonix, their final destination. Her eyes searched out Patty Mclntyre. Chesney motioned for her to come to the back of the cabin.
"Everything under control?" Chesney asked quietly.
"Everything but me. I can't explain it, Chesney, but I've never felt so schitzy. I took Captain Andrews some coffee before, and he said there was a storm in Geneva that would make the one we left in London look like a flurry."
Chesney's heart thumped in her chest. Her mouth felt dry, as if she'd swallowed a tablespoon of peanut butter. "Keep your eye on Molly; I think she's going to wake up any minute. She'll probably have to go to the bathroom, and Gus, too. I have to do a walk-through. I'll join you in a few minutes."
She walked through the plane, stopping to speak to those passengers who were awake. She returned to the bulkhead section just as Molly sat up to rub the sleep out of her eyes.
"Hi, sweetie; did you have a nice sleep?"
"Uh huh. Gus wants a drink."
"I'll take care of it right now." She stooped down to fondle the dog's ears. He whined his pleasure, but snuggled closer to Molly. Molly was briskly rubbing his fat, pink belly, a look of absolute love on her face. Chesney wondered if the little girl ever looked at her parents in the same way.
Chesney was in the midsection of the plane when she experienced a feeling of light-headedness. She gave herself a mental shake to clear her head. She looked around; everyone looked relaxed and unworried. Whatever it was she felt, it was not noticed by the passengers.
"Miss, miss, could I trouble you for a Coca-Cola?" a thin, reedlike voice asked. Chesney looked down at an elderly lady with soft white hair, spectacles perched on her nose, an open paperback novel on her lap.
"Of course; I'll be back in a minute." Her name was. . . Chesney searched her memory for the passenger's name. Edith Neibauer from Akron, Ohio. She'd walked onto the plane with a cane. She'd been angry, stomping both her feet and her cane as she searched out her seat in the midsection— an aisle seat. Because her voice had been so thin and high, it
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carried backward to Chesney while the boarding was going on. "My son will never wait for hours in a cold airport. He was good enough to send me this ticket, but he isn't a patient man, and his wife is less patient." Later, on one of her walkthroughs, Chesney overheard Mrs. Neibauer talking to her seat companion, and her voice had been tearful. She was being shuffled from one child to the next, like flotsam. "No one wants you when you're old," she said tearfully. "Oh, they're all willing to pay for someone else to see to your wants and needs, but don't infringe on their lives." No one wants you when you're young either, Chesney's mind had shrieked. On her way back to her station a few minutes later, Chesney heard Mrs. Neibauer say, "My daughter, Alice, was sick of me, and she wants to spend the holidays with her in-laws. They don't want to shuffle me in and out of a wheelchair. My chair embarrasses them." Chesney had slowed her steps then and bent down to ask the other passengers if they wanted anything. Her ear was tuned to Edith Neibauer, however. "Getting old alone v. hen you know you have family who don't... give a hoot about you ... you might as well be dead." Chesney had flinched at the woman's awful words.