Christmas Kisses Page 8

  The thought hit Beth like a rocket. She was free! For the first time in her life, she was financially independent to pursue her own life. The realization was overwhelming. Overhead, Aunt Harry’s slippers flapped against the bedroom floor.

  Free. For the first time in her life.

  Minutes later, Harriet pushed through the kitchen door, dressed in overalls and a straw hat. She glanced at Russ, smiling. “Good morning, David.”

  Russ saluted her with his coffee cup. “Morning, Aunt Harriet.”

  Beth eyed Harriet’s farmer’s attire. “You can’t plant a garden today, Aunt Harry. Please sit down and eat your breakfast.”

  Harriet looked uncertain, her eyes darting around the room. “If I don’t get my potatoes in, I’ll not have a decent crop.” She focused on Russ. “Do you have plans for Halloween?”

  “Uh, no. Haven’t thought about that yet. Just sit at home and hand out candy, I guess. Isn’t that what everyone does here on Halloween?”

  “Not in Morning Sun.” Harriet vigorously shook her head and clapped her hands. “You’ll come to our party.” The smell of scorched toast permeated the room. “I’m cooking.” She glanced at Beth who had the toaster upended, shaking it over the sink to get out the burned raisin bread.

  Setting his cup on the table, he reached for his jacket. “Well, I hate to leave such good company, but I hear Jasper calling.” As he passed Beth, he squeezed her shoulders supportively. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Her heart soared. They won! She still couldn’t believe it. If Russ hadn’t agreed to buy the ticket for Harriet, she wouldn’t be a million dollars richer this morning!

  He leaned closer to her ear. “How about meeting me later to verify that winning ticket?”

  Beth smiled. Now that she was rich, she planned to call in and take a personal day’s vacation. She was rich now; she could do that. She could even quit if she wanted. With all that money, she could do anything she wanted. We won, we won, we won! She speared the slice of soggy raisin bread and swiped up the crummy mess in the sink. She might even hire a maid.

  “The Coffee Shop? Half an hour?”

  “Half an hour it is.”

  The door closed behind Russ, and Aunt Harry peered up at Beth from her seat in the breakfast nook. “Meeting David somewhere?”

  Beth spooned oatmeal into a bowl and set the cream pitcher on the table. “Yes, I am. Eat, then to the couch with you. We have to get you well for the party.”

  “Well, now, I sure don’t want to be a party pooper at my own shindig.” Harry laughed uproariously.

  Half an hour later, with the lottery ticket tucked safely into her billfold, Beth hurried over to The Coffee Shop. By eleven, the winning numbers had been verified and the winners officially announced. Back on the street, Russ and Beth walked back to Aunt Harry’s house in a stupor.

  “Can you believe this?” Russ exclaimed. “A million apiece. This is unbelievable.”

  “Believe it!” Beth grinned. “And doesn’t it feel good?”

  “What are you going to do with that kind of money?”

  “I’ll do what I’ve dreamed of for years. I’m going to Europe for a month, then I’m going on a shopping trip of all shopping trips—New York, L.A.—then—”

  “Hey, it’s a million not a billion,” Russ reminded her.

  “It’s a billion to me. So, I’ll modify my plans. I’ll spend a week in Europe, stop by New York on the way home, shop a couple of days…may be even look at a few apartments while I’m there. With all this money, Aunt Harry can be where she’ll receive the care she deserves, and I can move.” She sighed, visualizing her first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

  She was going to splurge—ride one of those boats that circled the harbor at night so she could see the glorious skyline of New York all lit up. Oh—and she would go to the observation deck at the top of the Empire State Building, just like Meg Ryan had in Sleepless in Seattle. Then she’d have high tea at the Plaza Hotel, take a carriage ride through Central Park, have lunch at The Tavern on the Green.

  “You’re serious? You actually want to move? Leave friends and family for a tiny apartment in New York?”

  “Dead serious. I’ve dreamed about this moment all my life.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to start a whole new life. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  They continued along in silence, savoring the win.

  “Europe, New York—that’s really what excites you?”

  “Of course. Doesn’t it everyone?” She looked over at him, smiling. “Except you. You’ve already traveled everywhere, done everything.”

  “Yeah, been everywhere, done everything, and what do I have to show for it? A fantastic scrapbook, a bum leg. And no roots—practically no life.”

  “Well, I’ve been in Morning Sun all my life, and what do I have to show for it? A lot of holiday decorations I don’t want.” And no prospects of anyone to share those holidays with, but an elderly aunt who could now afford a private care facility, she thought.

  “When do you plan to let Harriet know that she’s a rich woman? She’s going to have to know soon. News like this spreads like wildfire.”

  Beth shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “Yeah, I know. Everyone in town will know by tonight. She’ll have to know soon. I’m Harriet’s official guardian, and everyone knows Harriet… well, everyone knows Harriet,” she conceded.

  “If I’m lucky she’ll play her favorite little trick.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Take the receiver off the hook and listen to the noises the aliens make on the telephone when they try to contact her. She says she’s receiving their codes. She thinks there are dots and dashes in the dial tone, and another message in the tone when it’s off the hook.”

  Russ nodded and laughed softly. “That would shut off one means of congratulations from her friends.”

  “I’m not kidding. Sometimes the phone’s off for hours before someone comes to the house to say they’ve been trying to call.”

  They reached the old Victorian house and paused in front of the gate.

  “We start the party whenever people arrive. Harry tells everyone the earlier the better.”

  “I don’t know that I should come—I picked up a bag of Milky Way bars and a bag of Snickers. What do you do about trick-or-treaters?”

  “Don’t be silly. You have to come or else you’ll disappoint Aunt Harry.” And herself. “The kids in town know to stop by here for treats. Harry gives out enough for the entire town.”

  “Are you inviting me?”

  She refused to look at him. He appeared perfectly willing to start something—something he’d be just as perfectly willing to forget the moment his injury healed. Then he’d be back to Washington in a flash. She had money now. She didn’t have to live on foolish dreams. Harry would go to a care facility, and she would build a whole new life for herself, maybe even take a trip to Hawaii. Granted, a million wasn’t what it used to be, but with no one but herself to look after, she could get a part-time job and live fairly comfortably in her old age.

  “There’s no need to spend Halloween alone. Greg and his fiancée are coming in for the party, and many of Harriet’s closest friends will be there.” She took a deep breath. She wasn’t about to beg—though those deep-blue eyes of his made her realize she wasn’t above it. “A refrigerator full of food, and the cabinet full of snacks is a lot of food to get rid of. Jasper would be under the weather for weeks.”

  “Well, I don’t think I could go through another bout of, shall I say a sour stomach, with that dog? So put like that, how can I refuse?” He zipped up his jacket. “Enjoy your fame and fortune. Don’t blow it all in one tourist trap.”

  “Yeah, you too. Don’t put it all in stocks, get a life, enjoy a little of it.”

  His face registered a quick frown followed by a wry smile. “Yeah, right.” He turned to leave. “See you at the party.”

  She watched him jog down the sidewalk and head
toward home. Why was it that she invariably fell for the wrong guy? To make it worse, fell for him not only once, but twice.

  * * *

  HALLOWEEN DAWNED cold and overcast. Aunt Harry worked on canapés and other snacks the night before, then woke up before dawn to put the finishing touches on the serving table. She seemed to be back to her old self without so much as a sniffle. Beth checked to make sure the organization was complete. One year, Harry had gotten all confused, and had frozen all the dips, necessitating a flurry of last-minute damage control. Beth checked the freezer and was satisfied all preparations were on schedule.

  By ten o’clock, there were soft drinks and cider in the fridge, gingerbread and pumpkin pies had been baked, and chips, dips, pretzels, veggies galore and an assortment of other goodies were ready to be served. Several casseroles waited in the refrigerator for their turn in the oven. Beth shook her head as she inventoried food. Aunt Harry had done it again. There was enough food to serve a medium-size army.

  Beth brought the extra leaves for the table from the attic, and put them in the long dining room table. The holiday tablecloth had been washed and ironed the night before. Pumpkins decorated the table, and corn shocks stood in every corner. She regarded the huge stack of Aunt Harry’s good china and silver.

  “How many are coming?” she asked.

  “Me and you, Russ, Greg, MaryAnn, Ruth and Doc, Myra and Dean, and George. Ten. Merle and Diane are at her mother’s.”

  Diane’s mother had to be ninety-five if she was a day. Diane and Aunt Harry had been in the same graduating class. They were nearly seventy-five.

  “Now, Aunt Harriet, exactly how many others will be here?”

  Harry waved her hands in dismissal. “Just a few others. It really makes no difference, dear, as long as we have enough food. Do you think I need to bake more gingerbread or fruitcake?”

  There were stacks of foil-wrapped loaves of banana, pumpkin, nut, and even a few zucchini bread, as well as at least seven large cake pans of gingerbread. “No, I think we’ll have plenty.”

  Harry seemed satisfied and arranged and rearranged the decorations. Greg arrived a little before eleven. For once his flight was on time and his rental car waiting for him at the airport. After hugs and kisses, Aunt Harry returned to the kitchen.

  “Where’s your fiancée?” Beth hung her brother’s coat in the foyer.

  “She couldn’t get away.” The evasiveness in his voice kept Beth from prying. Maybe number four wasn’t a sure bet after all.

  By five-thirty, everyone but Russ had arrived. The guests were chatting in small groups, sipping hot cider and munching on goodies set around the house. Beth was nervous. What if Russ backed out and failed to show? He had every right—she had refused all his overtures—but darn it, she had enough trouble without getting emotionally involved. She didn’t need to intentionally invite more. By the time there was a knock on the door, her nerves were strung tight as a crossbow.

  * * *

  RUSS STRAIGHTENED his tie, then raised his hand to knock. What was he doing here? The Milky Ways and Snickers were in the bowl at Dave’s house. They would go to waste. Beth wasn’t willing to give him a chance with her, she’d made that pretty clear. Considering Harriet’s eccentricity, why was he subjecting himself to one of her parties? Raisin dips and chips? He halfway hoped no one had heard the knock and was contemplating turning around and going home, when the door swung open.

  “Hi.”

  One look at Beth, and he knew he’d stay even if Harry was serving roadkill. She wore cinnamon-colored slacks and a matching silk shirt. Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a loose ponytail.

  Beautiful. So darn beautiful. Why did he ever leave Morning Sun in the first place? He didn’t want her to be beautiful. Why couldn’t she just be as nuts as Aunt Harry? He didn’t want any complications in his life at this point. He’d worked long and hard to be where he was. His future was set; he didn’t need a hometown girl with eyes that melted his heart to make him doubt his plans.

  Beth smiled. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

  He swallowed hard and forced himself to answer. “I believe food was mentioned? I never refuse a meal.”

  Latching onto his arm, she squeezed it, whispering, “We won! I still can’t believe it. What a Halloween! I even love the spooks this year! Come on. Greg’s here. I want you to meet him.”

  As Beth was introducing him, he felt a pang of homesickness.

  “Russ, I’d like you to meet MaryAnn Latimer. MaryAnn’s been Aunt Harry’s closet friend since they were children.”

  The stooped, white-haired woman wearing rimless glasses peered up at him. “My, you’re tall—and so handsome! I knew your mother. We played bridge together.”

  Beth moved around the room. “And this is Ruth…and Doc. They’ve been members of the community only a couple of years, but the Senior Citizens’ Center couldn’t run without them. They deliver meals to shut-ins. Doc is a retired dentist, Ruth used to manage a restaurant in New York City.”

  Russ accepted the doctor’s hand, surprised at the strength in the old gentleman’s handshake.

  “And you know Anne, she owns the local bookstore.” Beth smiled with obvious affection at the woman. “And over here are Myra and Dean. They used to run the Daisy Petal Floral and Gift Shop on Lennox Street. They retired a couple of years ago, but their floral arrangements are always the hit of the winter bazaar and the Spring Fling street fair.”

  “You’re David Foster’s brother,” Dean stated, rocking back on his heels.

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re looking after the house while he and his wife are gone. Somebody said you’d been over in the Middle East for a while.”

  Russ smiled. “Someone’s imagination has been working overtime. I injured my knee. I’m helping Dave out while it heals.”

  The old man winked. “Don’t be modest. I heard you were a real James Bond.”

  “Not nearly so suave, nor as exciting I’m afraid.”

  Beth came to his rescue. Waving an older man over, she continued with her introductions. “George, this is Russ Foster. George is the bingo caller at the S.C.C.”

  “Best in the business,” the little man beamed.

  If he’d been an imaginative sort, Russ would describe George as a clean-shaven Santa Claus. Round faced, round belly, twinkling eyes, bald head with patches of cotton white above his ears.

  “Used to watch you and Dave play basketball,” he said, pumping Russ’s hand. “So you went into government work. CIA or something.”

  Beth motioned to a man who was chatting with Harriet. “Greg, come here. I want you to meet someone.”

  Greg stepped over, smiling. There was a striking similarity between brother and sister.

  “Russ! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Russ reached out to grasp Greg’s extended hand. “Beth’s mentioned you a time or two.”

  “The dunking barrel is ready,” Aunt Harry called from the doorway. She was dressed in her good witch costume of a black dress with a long skirt, and starched, pointed hat. Russ watched Beth close her eyes, obviously breathing a prayer of gratitude. Today was one of Harriet’s better days.

  Everyone seemed to know where the refreshments were being served. Various tables were set up throughout the house and guests were helping themselves. This was not the first Halloween party these people had attended in this house. “How does she pull this off?” Russ whispered to Beth.

  “We do the same party with the different variations according to holiday at least seven times a year… dinner at Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and Fourth of July…parties New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Groundhog Day, Saint Patrick’s, Memorial, Labor, Halloween, and sometimes in between.”

  Aunt Harry held her broom in front of her like a staff. “George, will you thank the good Lord for our blessings, please.”

  “All of Harry’s parties begin with a prayer of thanksgiving,” Beth whispered, as guests
obediently gathered, giving George their full attention.

  George extended his hands in both directions, and as if on cue, everyone joined hands and bowed their heads. George lifted his voice in a prayer so eloquent of praise and thanksgiving for friends and family that the pang of homesickness inside Russ actually ached.

  “Amen,” George finished.

  With a flourish of the dramatic, Greg stood, waved his hand to the tables of food and announced, “Enjoy.” The guests clapped as he held his cup of hot cider aloft in a salute to Harry. It was clear to Russ that these old friends had established a sentimental ritual over the years. The laughter and teasing were rooted in past shared experiences.

  How long had it been since he’d been in a real home and part of a holiday celebration? He couldn’t remember the last time. Holidays had no meaning in his business. They were like any other day of the week. In his line of work neither were there weekends nor holidays. That wasn’t likely to change when he moved to Washington.

  Trick-or-treaters rang the doorbell throughout the evening. Lively conversation among the dinner guests continued throughout the night. Greg answered questions about his job. George told Harry that bingo games at the Senior Citizens’ Center just weren’t the same without her.

  “It’s just a night out now. When you were there, it was a celebration.”

  “Ohhh,” Beth whispered to Russ. “George is so good to Aunt Harry.”

  By the time pumpkin pie and gingerbread with whipped cream made it to the table, everyone swore they were too stuffed to eat it. Russ noticed, though, that not one person refused a serving. With help from MaryAnn, Ruth and Myra, Beth served generous portions of pie and refilled cups of cider and coffee. He watched her move about, imagining that this was his party, his home, his wife. He was surprised to find it wasn’t a far stretch.

  It was nearly ten o’clock before the guests began to filter toward the door, and the dishes and food were cleared away. Russ stuck the leftovers into the refrigerator, and Beth stacked the dishes into the dishwasher. Heaving a huge sigh, she followed Russ into the living room. He walked to the fireplace mantel to investigate family photos lined there. Beth offered him another cup of coffee.