On The Dotted Line (20 page)

“What
are you talking about?” He pushed himself up and stared down at her. “I ask to
know something about my wife and all you talk about is a mattress? What are you
hiding?”

Her
focus remained on the sky. “You hide every day. You stifle your creativity and
deny what you want to do.”

“I
have too many responsibilities to do what I want to do.” Unlike her, he would
give his spouse a straight answer.

“No.
I think you’re ashamed of what you want to be. Maybe ashamed because you don’t
have the guts to go after it.”

Rather
than spew the first words to come to his mouth, which most likely involved a
profanity, he took a breath. “What are you ashamed of Willow?”

She
didn’t move.

“What
are you so ashamed of that you can’t tell me? What have you hidden away so
deeply that I can’t find any trace of you anywhere except for a birth
certificate with only your mother’s name?” He kept his tone even, calm.

She
continued to gaze into the sky.

“What
makes you not spend one penny of the money you get from me except for the bare
necessities, but you will spend thousands on a mattress?”

“You
might understand if you ever didn’t have a mattress to sleep on.” She sat up.

“What
are you saying?” Again the weight pressed down on his chest, especially as all
the clues filled in the picture.

“I
am saying it doesn’t matter.” She spun to face him, her hair whipping around
and hitting her in the face. “Why do you have to know? It doesn’t matter! You
didn’t marry a woman with any background and it couldn’t make a difference,
because in a few months I’ll be gone and then you won’t have to worry about it!”

He
recoiled as if she slapped him in the face. Again she mentioned the end and
again Jade’s question replayed in his mind. “Willow, I asked you before what
you want.”

“I
can’t give you the answer until you know what you want.” Tears sparkled in her
eyes.

He
resisted the urge to reach out to her. “How can I know what I want when I don’t
even know who I married?”

“You
know all you need to know and now you have your answer.” She turned her back to
him.

“So
that’s what you want.”

Again,
silence and a shrug.

Stagnant
heat seemed to take over the tent. He had to get out of there and crawled out
of the tent. “Am I allowed to go outside? I need some air.”

“You
are free to do what you want. Maybe you should create something.”

“I
was trying to.” The night air instantly cooled him. A bon fire in center circle
lit up the area.

Two
tents over, he spotted Nan standing outside staring up at the sky.

He
shoved his hands in his pockets and went to her.

“There’s
a regular bathroom just beyond the trees.” With a laugh, Nan pointed. “Unless
you want to commune with nature some more.”

“When
you and Willow didn’t have a mattress to sleep on did you have a bathroom?” He
rocked from his heels to his toes.

“That
is not my story to tell.”

“Fair
enough.” He didn’t even know why he asked. “May I ask you something that is
your story?”

“Of
course.”

“Why
did you never marry?”

“Does
a woman have to marry to be valid?” She hooked her arm in his and led him away.

“No.”
They walked around the circle. “Neither does a man.”

“I
was given a blessing when I got Willow, but she began her life on unstable ground
and I needed to give her my heart to make her whole. I would give it to her a
million times more, but now it’s time for her to find her own soil.”

“Can
you give me anything to go on?” No, he wasn’t beyond begging.

“Before
you get what you want, you need to think of why you want it.” She stopped and
stood in front of him. “Do you want to win or do you want something more?”

Before
he spoke, he took a moment to think about his answer. If nothing else, he
wanted to give her the truth. “All I’ve done my whole life is try to win, so I
don’t even know how to answer your question.”

Nan
pressed her palm to his cheek. “Willow fears anything ending and your life is
based on a series of finishes.”

He
absorbed her words. “I need to think.”

“A
good revelation for the New Year.” She smiled one of those wise smiles that
told him she knew more than she ever let on.

Arm
in arm they continued their walk. Yes, he needed to think.

“Lillian,
hold it tight while I secure the ends.” Mr. Van Ayers leaned over and tied one
side of his tamale.

“Van,
don’t get my nail stuck in there.” Lillian winced, but per her husband’s
instructions kept her fingers in place.

“I
spent a lifetime watching your nails, do you think I would tie one up over
three thousand miles away from your nail lady?” He moved to the other side. “Stay
still, I know we can beat them.”

Willow
shook her head at the scene in front of her. Not in a million years did she
ever think she would find Mr. Van Ayers making tamales on Christmas with the
rest of the Van Ayers clan, but more surprising than anything was watching them
work together. They were a true husband and wife team. Even with Mr. Van Ayers’
commanding presence and Lillian’s unique look on the world, the love between
them was evident.

“We
are already one up on you son.” Randolph Van Ayers the first, otherwise known
as Randolph the third’s grandfather, otherwise known as Judge for his work in
local politics, nodded. “Hurry up Caroline, we can get at least a two-tamale
lead on Junior.”

The
family resemblance among the Randolphs was as incredible as the experience. Randolph
I, II and III were like gazing upon a movie where the lead character gradually
became older and Judge possessed the appearance of the star that aged but still
kept his spark.

“We
got this. You need the nimble fingers of a woman to tie the ends. My son’s
fingers are too large and he’s too concerned with his wife’s grooming.” Caroline,
Randolph’s grandmother, finished her bow, held her hands up and gave Willow a
wink. “Come on old man, get the next one, I want to spend time with my granddaughter-in-law.
She promised me a reading before we open the presents. I want to know what I
got before I get it.”

With
the grace and looks of a queen without the attitude to match, Caroline Van
Ayers playfully, but dutifully, commanded all she surveyed including a mansion
in Vermont that rivaled the one back in Bel Air, a staff and her husband. Willow
observed her in awe. All the Van Ayers males practically cowered in her short,
but powerful shadow.

“You
talk about me father, but you haven’t even mentioned your grandson, who walked
away to go get something right in the middle of the fight.” Mr. Van Ayers
cradled his tamale in his palm and held it up. “Nanette, please inspect this
one and tell Judge speed does not match perfection.”

Nan
bent down and gave him a thumbs-up. “You are right on.”

Mr.
Van Ayers put his in the pile and returned to his wife. “Come on Lillian, we
can catch up. We’ll leave the seniors and the babies in our wake.”

Suddenly,
Christmas music filled the air and the kitchen door boomed open. “I have
returned.” With a large burlap bag in his hands, Randolph entered the kitchen
like a makeshift Santa Clause and headed straight for her. “Willow, I brought
us something.”

Since
they arrived in Vermont, Randolph had gone Christmas crazy. Thus far he
presented her with candy canes, made sure they strung popcorn and cranberries
for the tree, decorated sugar cookies, and they tried to build a gingerbread
house. They were never to speak of the collapse of their cookie cottage again. She
swore her husband got tears in his eyes at the mention of the demolition.

“Anytime
you want to take this playlist off repeat it is fine with me.” Mr. Van Ayers
shook his head.

“Bah
Humbug.” Randolph brushed him away.

In
Mr. Van Ayers’ defense, Randolph had played the same series of about fifteen
songs for the last seventy-two hours. Of course, in same amount of time, he
also stopped asking about her past. Either the man realized she was right and
it didn’t matter, he respected her wishes, or he didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t
sure which answer she wanted, but she knew which one she didn’t want.

“You
better get going on these tamales, or you’ll never catch up.” Randolph’s father
held up another finished product. “The winner gets to pick the wine for
Christmas dinner.”

“Maybe
it’s not so much about winning, but the process of making the tamale and the spirit
of the holiday season.” Randolph opened his bag.

Everyone,
including her, stopped and stared at youngest of the Randolph Van Ayers in the
room. Had he honestly said it wasn’t about winning?

Of
course, along with not asking about her past was the other side of Randolph. Since
Sedona, the man who had contracts down to what brand of sock he would wear,
changed. He seemed deeper, he listened to her, and he doted on her. She shook
her head. Maybe he did all these things before, and she tried to ignore him. No
matter what, keeping her distance wasn’t working at all.

“Randolph,
baby, did you have too much eggnog?” Lillian twisted around to look at him.

“No,
Willow and I already did eggnog yesterday.” He reached in the bag and pulled
out what appeared to be little brown nuts. “Today is spiced wine, sugar plums
and roasted chestnuts.”

“Honey,
where are you getting these ideas?” Lillian narrowed her eyes.

Willow
wanted to ask the same question. In truth, she wanted to ask many questions.

“The
Traditional Christmas handbook.” Judge let out a laugh and put another tamale
in his pile.

She
managed to not ask if there was such a handbook, but she caught Randolph
reading on the flight to Vermont. The moment he discovered tamales were part of
the holiday festivities and Nan knew how to make them, she would have thought
he uncovered a Christmas miracle. Upon their arrival to the senior Van Ayers’
home, Randolph insisted everyone join in the tamale making and refused the help
of the staff.

“I
didn’t know there was a book.” Lillian wrinkled her nose. “I hope we’re doing
everything right.”

“I
have it covered, Mother.” Randolph returned his attention to Willow and handed
her one of the chestnuts. “I talked to the chef and he said he could make these
for us, and he said it would be his pleasure. He will even put them in paper
bags for us. But first we have something to do.”

She
held her breath in anticipation of what he would conjure next.

“Like
make tamales?” Randolph’s father barked.

“We
made tamales, and we are going to allow the rest of you to continue with this
fine culinary craft while I take my wife into the snow.” He took her hand. “I
am busy being a husband.”

And
there was the problem.

He
was being a husband.

An
amazing one.

One
who insisted on throwing her whole world off balance, and she didn’t know how
to get back on track.

“Keep
talking son, you’re slowing up your grandparents.” His father lifted another
cornhusk. “Lillian, I don’t think there is the proper amount of meat on this
one.”

“Come
on.” Randolph shook his head and led her to the back door. He stopped and
helped her put on a puffy white coat, and matching boots, mittens and scarf,
items that seemed to materialize for her the other day. “You look like a
gorgeous ice princess. It’s the eyes.”

While
her mind begged to remain firmly grounded in reality, her heart fluttered,
longing to soar away on the fantasy Randolph created since they left Sedona. He
could easily take her heart. Half the time she wanted to give it to him on one
of his mother’s expensive designer platters and get it over with.

He
put on his black cold weather gear. His blond curls and green eyes popped. The
man should have forgotten finance altogether and simply sold pin up pictures of
himself in various outfits. At the sight of him and the way he spoke, her body
and her heart fought her mind. It was an all-out war and she decided to simply
try to go with the flow, relax and capture some of the spirit overtaking her
husband. “Well, then you look just like a handsome prince.” She wrinkled her
nose at her words.

“Then
let’s stroll about the kingdom, shall we?” With a smile that only needed a
starburst to be complete, he bowed.

“Are
you sure you don’t want to return to the war zone and win the tamale trophy?” She
couldn’t believe he actually walked away from a challenge.

“Don’t
worry, I’ll win.” He held out his arm.

Powerless
to ward off his overwhelming energy, she took hold of him. If nothing else, she
needed the support.

Randolph’s
grandparents’ property was at least as impressive as the California property,
but more natural. The house was set against what she would describe as a
forest, and even included a small iced over pond. With a dusting of snow on
everything, the setting was right out of a catalog for Christmas, or the
Christmas handbook.

They
walked along the shoveled path over to the trees.

Randolph
held up his hand. “I want to show you something. Stay right there.” He took
several steps into the snow and bent down.

“What
is it?” She stood on her tiptoes to try to see.

“Hold
on.” His voice came out strained. “Close your eyes.”

She
shut her eyes and waited for yet something else she hadn’t known she missed but
wanted all the same.

Out
of nowhere a ball of cold exploded on her. “Randolph!” She gasped and opened
her eyes. Her coat was covered with pieces of snow, blending into her outfit.

Another
snowball in hand, he grinned. “I’ll give you a moment to catch up, but I warn
you. I told you I would win.”

Yes,
they needed fun. She bit her lip, stomped into the snow and gathered up as much
snow as she could into some sort of warped ball.

“I’m
waiting.” Randolph called out in a sing-song voice.

Without
any knowledge of snowballs, she paused, going for a surprise attack. At last
she spun around. In preparation of propelling her own projectile, she cocked
her arm back, but before she fired off her weapon, another blast hit her right
in the face. “Ah!” She jumped and fell back in the snow and dropping her own snow
blob on her head.

“Willow!”
In an instant Randolph skidded to her side, landing on top of her. “I didn’t
mean to aim so perfectly.”

She
opened her mouth and snow dropped onto her tongue.

“Are
you all right?” Randolph brushed her off.

She
blinked to find him gazing down at her. “You know what?”

“What?”

“The
fight isn’t over.” Using her legs for leverage and the element of surprise, she
somehow managed to turn the both of them over and straddled him, pinning him
down.

“Is
this how we’re going to play it?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

She
slid her hand off to his side and scooped up some snow. “You started the game
and didn’t tell me the rules.”

“I
think no matter what the rules are you make up your own.”

“Yes
I do.” She threw the snow on him at exactly the same time he returned the
favor.

Like
two animals set free, they let loose. Snow flew everywhere as they tried to
pelt each other with the freezing white flakes. Despite her best efforts to win
the cold war, she ended up on her back under Randolph.

“Had
enough?” He panted, his breaths coming out as little white puffs.

Her
throat dry from the exertion, she managed to gather up one more handful of
snow.

He
caught her wrist, lifted her arm, and with his free hand gave her a playful
poke under her ribcage.

The
tickles ran through her. At her laugher, she released her hold on the snow and
dropped it on herself.

“You
win.” Her arm went weak and she blinked away the snow on her lashes.

“See?
I told you I would win something today.” He leaned down. “Do I get to choose my
prize?”

“I
don’t think I have any choice over you picking the wine for dinner.” She
shivered from the cold and the way he looked her over.

“I
want something much more tasty.” He lifted his eyebrows.

“I’ll
see what I can do. I don’t want to be a sore loser.” Her heart sped and she
willed it to slow, leave her alone and stop begging for something it couldn’t
have.

“You
have what I need right here.” He curled his hand around the back of her head,
pulled her up and grazed his lips over hers.

His
light kiss warmed her in all the right places, but before she had the
opportunity to open her mouth, he pushed back and stared into her eyes. “I
missed kissing my wife.”

His
wife. He wanted a wife if only for the year. Still, her breath caught. She didn’t
realize she missed him as well and in her attempt to go with the moment, leaned
up to connect their mouths once more.

In
an instant he gave in and their tongues touched. While her center heated, the
combination of lying in a pile of snow and a light breeze caused her to shiver.

Randolph
moaned and moved his mouth to her ear. “You’re freezing.”