A Semi-Precious Christmas (7 page)

In the foyer, Chris gently grabbed my hand and laced my fingers with his. “I'd love to see you tomorrow. We have so much to discuss. Did you know I already know who your favorite band is? You love the color magenta, and you ran track in college.”

“And you biked through Europe when you were twenty-two, your first girlfriend's name was Heather, and you were an Eagle Scout.”

“How did we not figure it out until today?”

“Different names—both you and Maggie. And I thought you lived in New Jersey.”

He nodded. “Until last year. I thought your cat's name was Goober. What happened to Goober?”

My eyes misted. “Goober was seventeen when he died last summer. Then Amee found Butterscotch sunning on the hood of her car. When nobody claimed him, she had him checked out at the vet and brought him to me. It was love at first sight. Then a couple of months later, I brought Ginger home.” I leaned against the coat closet door, resting my weary back. “Hey, why didn't you know Ginger?”

“Never laid eyes on that cat. I'd walk in the door and she'd head for the hills. Some days I wasn't sure if Ginger was real or merely a figment of Aunt Margaret's vivid imagination.” Chris wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer.

Light from the streetlights filtered through the frosted glass panes in the door. A halo effect lit up the air around Chris—he looked like an angel in the moonlight.

“What I don't know is what it feels like to kiss you.” He tipped my chin up and gazed into my eyes. Tilting his head ever so slightly, his lips met mine.

My breath caught as his fingers tangled in my hair. Perhaps it was way too soon, but the sensation of tumbling headlong into love thrilled me to the core. Even if I hadn't met this man in person until recently, he was the kind of man that could be forever.

He kissed me again.

And then I kicked him out. Because I wanted him to stay.

12

The next week flew by with nary a sign of the robbers. And no Chris, either. Jennifer had the flu, so he'd taken on extra shifts at the TV station. It seemed there was an increased demand for camera crews at Christmas even in our modest town. We talked every day on the phone, but it wasn't the same. I missed him and longed to have his arms around me again. Soon.

In the meantime, the jewelry store stayed busy. Some people stopped for a glimpse of the crime scene, some for shopping. Necklaces, rings, and watches sold briskly. Todd kept numerous inexpensive gold and silver chains in stock for the impulse shopper and created a clever display of high-end, one-of-a-kind Christmas ornaments.

My favorite kind of shoppers drifted in with their hearts thrumming the beat of the besotted. I could spot these men as they came through the door, and I passed them off to Miralee before they could get away. Selecting the perfect engagement ring required the know-how of an expert with patience and panache. It was a rare gentleman who left the store empty handed.

I'd just finished writing up a sales ticket for a pair of diamond earrings when the office phone rang. I expected a call from my insurance agent, Martha, about the ruined contents of my home. With Amee's help, I'd bought a new TV, ordered a new sofa, and gotten my locks changed. But between that and discharging Uncle Marty from the hospital, moving Amee's belongings to his house, and running the business, I hadn't had time to do much more than eat, sleep, and pet the occasional cat.

“Keaton's Jewelers. This is Peri.” I sank into a desk chair and kicked off my shoes.

“And this is Chris walking into your office.” I glanced up to find his smug mug gazing down at me. He pocketed his phone and sat on a chair next to me. Our knees touched. I scooted even closer but tried to be subtle about it.

He reached over and caressed my bruised cheek with his thumb. “It's been a very long week, and I've missed seeing your pretty face. Do you like my ingenious way of getting you alone?”

He'd missed me. I studied the floor, trying to hide the sudden moisture in my eyes. I blinked a silly tear away, and then glanced up to see his gorgeous brown eyes staring into mine. The air crackled.

“I can't stay long, but I come bearing good news.”

“What's up?”

“The police picked up the younger guy and his girlfriend. It wasn't too hard to find them, according to Locksley.”

My shoulders felt a little lighter. “That's a relief. No word on Mean-Eyes, uh, the other robber?”

“Not yet, but I quote, ‘We're closing in. It's only a matter of time.' I'm sure he knows what he's doing.”

“Let's hope.”

Chris's eyes grew bright as he held my gaze. “I came by to ask if you have plans for this Friday night. And Christmas is coming, you know.”

I hadn't thought that far ahead, but now that Uncle Marty was home and recovering, and Amee had moved in to take care of him, I didn't have to worry about either of them. I'd shuffle back to my own house soon. Three was indeed a crowd, and they needed to get into a routine without me taking up space.

I tapped my chin and did a quick review of all the things I had to do in the next few days. “Yeah, I guess I can manage it. Todd and Miralee can cover for me.”

Chris grimaced. “I'd hoped for a bit more enthusiasm, but I'll take it. Pick you up at seven?”

I nodded.

“And dress up. It's a special occasion.”

“It is?”

“This will be our second official date, and we're doing it up right.”

Second date? I guess you could call the interrupted dinner at his mother's house a date. At the time, my fluttering stomach would have certainly agreed.

He pushed a few strands of hair back behind my ear, and my tummy flipped again as that same cloud of butterflies twirled with abandon. “OK. Sounds delightful. High heels and everything, huh?”

“Yes, please.” He waggled his brows, making me laugh. He pulled me to my feet, and before I had time to bat an eyelash, his arms encircled me. He kissed my lips with deep deliberation.

“I hate to disturb this jubilant reunion but I need your help, Peri.” Todd stood in the doorway, smirking.

I swayed a bit, smoothed my hair, and moistened my lips. They still tingled. “Coming, Todd.”

~*~

It was strange leaving work early and even stranger being back in my own house. Keaton's had been open until 10:00 p.m. for the last week, and I'd left each night dead on my feet. Tonight, I was already tired but determined to enjoy myself. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been out on a real date. I switched on Christmas music to brighten the evening and finished applying my makeup.

Butterscotch surveyed me with interest as I primped.

I tugged on a new pair of shimmery hose I'd picked up at the mall as I stared at the dress spread across my bed. The last time I'd worn the red party dress was with Mark. We'd been invited to a black-tie holiday soirée at his boss's house where we danced in the dazzle of Christmas lights. A month later, Mark was gone. My soul had shattered into smithereens, the ache filling my every waking moment. Was I ready for this?

The spark in Chris's eyes told me he was ready for…something.

Those tingles rushed back and settled in my toes. I pulled the dress over my head, zipped the back, and stared at myself in the broken mirror. More new furniture was due to arrive next week, the day before Christmas. I'd have a new mirror with no cracks, chips, or broken glass. A dark splotch lurked under my right eye, now that awful yellowish-green, so I slapped on more concealer.

Butterscotch leapt onto the bed, landed on my shoulder wrap, and slid into a furry heap upside down next to the pillows. Before he could snag my wrap with a claw, I snatched up the length of fabric and threw it over my shoulders. “Nice try, but not quite fast enough.”

The doorbell rang. The clock beside my bed said Chris was five minutes early.

I didn't even have my shoes on. “Coming!” I grabbed the strappy heels I'd bought ages ago to match the dress. I peered through the peephole, and the glimpse of the handsome man drew a smile from my lips. Yeah, I was ready.

Chris held a bouquet of flowers in his left hand, and the other hand fidgeted with his tie. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Was he as on edge as I was?

Still shoeless, I swung open the door. His provocative lips bowed upwards in a smile to melt the sun, and I dropped my heels on the hardwood floor.

Chris and I bent over at the same time to pick them up and nearly collided. He handed me the flowers and scooped up the killer red shoes. “Nice.” Those lips stretched even wider as he dangled my shoes from his fingers and checked out my dress. “Very, very nice.”

I headed for the kitchen. “Thanks. And for the lovely flowers, too. Where are we going for dinner?” I searched for a vase to hide my nerves.

Suddenly, he was right behind me, the barest hint of stubble tickling my neck. Gentle hands took my shoulders and turned me around. Then Chris guided me to a chair—flowers still in my hands—and knelt in front of me. He proceeded to slip on my shoes and fasten the straps, first the right one and then the left. “There. All better.”

His touch had been tender, not the least bit suggestive, and he'd kept his hands where a gentleman should keep them. And yet, the simple action had fire radiating from my toes to my nose.

As he sat back on his haunches, our gazes met and I quit breathing altogether.

“Ready to go?” Chris stood and offered me his hand.

A pleasant tingle shimmied up my back at his touch.

“Uh, sure.” I stuffed the flowers in a vase, just barely remembering to add water. “Let me just go count cats, and we're off. I haven't seen Ginger in a couple of hours. If you wouldn't mind searching this floor, I'll look upstairs.”

I was lucky I could manage the stairs.

“Oh, and we're going to the Bavarian Inn,” Chris called from below. “I hope you like German food, or Bavarian. Aren't they pretty much the same?”

I came down the stairs and rounded the corner into the living room. “Found her. She was under the bed in the guest room. As to German versus Bavarian, who cares? Let's go get some schnitzel. I'm starving.”

Chris helped me with my coat, and we were off.

13

At the restaurant, the host seated us in a corner alcove by a picture window flanked with Christmas decorations. The panorama couldn't have been lovelier. Twilight descended over the Potomac River, stars twinkling in the night sky. A server filled our glasses with ice water, memorized our order, and left with a pleasant nod.

Silence reigned.

Heat blossomed on my cheeks. I knew so much about this man, and yet I knew nothing.

Chris fiddled with his napkin and cleared his throat. “I refuse to talk about the weather. We can do better than that.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Our drinks arrived—my Lady Grey tea and Chris's coffee. The waiter set a basket of warm bread and spreads on the table.

“From what I understand about women, I'm sure a deep discussion about your hopes, dreams, and aspirations would be in order.”

I smothered a giggle. “Let's start with something a little easier? Tell me more about Maggie. She's such a lovable little girl.”

Chris's face brightened and that bothersome napkin settled in his lap. He placed a slice of pumpernickel on his bread plate and smeared it with butter. “She's lovable, but also a bit precocious. Sometimes her insights awe me.” He savored a bite.

“What do you mean?” I sugared my tea and inhaled the citrusy fragrance of bergamot.

“She told me once that her mommy was sorry she'd been born. Didn't seem upset about it, just stated a fact, as if she were telling me the grass is green. She was two at the time.”

My stomach lurched. “Oh, my word.”

“Shortly after Tiff and I were married, I started to realize something about her wasn't quite right, but that little conversation with Maggie solidified my opinion. The next night Tiffany was gone. She'd moved out and didn't even leave a note.”

Our roasted pumpkin soup arrived and the server refilled the breadbasket.

I spooned up a mouthful of the soup and crunched a pumpkin seed. “And Maggie?”

“When I got home from work, I found her sleeping in her bed clutching her stuffed cat. I don't even know how long her mother had been gone. Maggie's diaper was soaked, and she was mighty hungry when I fed her dinner.”

My blood boiled at the profound neglect. Tiffany was lucky she wasn't nearby.

“I filed for a divorce the next day. Maggie clung to me like a cockle burr for weeks but only cried once or twice. I've thought about putting her in therapy. She should have been grieving, right? But she seems fine now. Having her grandmother dote on her is certainly a positive influence. One thing I know—moving back here was the right thing.”

I squeezed his hand. “I'm so sorry, Chris. It's been a rough ride for you both.” The scent of dill tickled my nose and I looked down. My cucumber salad had arrived and I hadn't even noticed.

Chris balanced a morsel of smoked salmon on a potato cake and lifted his fork to his mouth. “Now that's good.” He paused and drank from his water glass. “In a way, though, Tiffany's departure was a good thing. In my misery, I found God.” He ran a finger over my thumb. “Both Mom and Aunt Margaret had been telling me about His love for years. I guess something stuck. After Tiffany left, someone left a flyer on my door about a Christian church in the area. They invited me to come see their Christmas children's program. Maggie and I went and we were hooked.”

“Just from one church service?”

“Pastor Brown spoke at the end of the program—a sort of mini-sermon about what Christmas really means. I'd heard it all before, but this time his words got through to me. I called him the next day to see if he was available for a talk. By the end of the evening, I was a true believer.”