Once Upon a Christmas (3 page)

“Two days ago. I do a complete backup every Saturday. And the file I was working on, I have the backup from last night. But the four hours I spent on it today will probably be gone, right?”

“Afraid so, sorry. Do you have program disks to reinstall?”

“Somewhere.”

“What will you do? New computer or put in another hard drive?”

“Any suggestions?”

“Well, if you’d like, we could install a new hard drive, increase your memory and speed, not difficult.”

“You said we.”

“How about I get the hardware and bring it over? While you make dinner, I can get it up and running again. That is if that’s what you want to do?”

While he was talking her mind flitted through her cupboards, freezer and refrigerator. What could she
make? Or she could go pick up a barbequed chicken at the market, bake potatoes in the microwave and make a salad. A loaf of sourdough bread from the bakery would be perfect.

“Good. And thanks in advance.”

“You are most welcome. Give me some information on your computer and I’ll be on my way.”

Blythe hung up, torn between delight at seeing him again and so soon, and despair at what she’d lost. If only they could retrieve that file. If only she had saved to the CD when she stopped for lunch. If only the hours went by more slowly. And here she’d been thrilled to be as far along as she was. Was being the operative word. She glanced around the office. No time to clean that up but then a clean office was the sign of a sick mind, another sign on the wall said so and she totally believed it. Until someone else was coming into her office.

She moved the backup disks of the files she’d been working on over to the other computer and booted it up. While he worked on one, she could be working on the other. It was just slower than a weary snail.

Harley moved, too, laying down with his chin on her foot, his normal place during the working day, if there were no sunspots to bake in. Blythe leaned down to pet him.

“Sorry, buddy but there won’t be any playing today.” She leaned her head toward one shoulder, let it stretch, and then to the other, trying to pull the tension from her shoulders.

Why, oh, why didn’t I save that file? I know better. She glared at the dead box on her other table. Should have
taken a baseball bat to it just for the pure joy of it. And how was she to fix a company dinner on top of this?

“Come on, Harley, we’re going to the store.” If the man thought he might get home cooking, he would be in for a surprise. I wish I knew if he is in a relationship. You never can be too sure these days.

T
hane caught himself whistling as he opened the car door for Matty.

How long since he’d whistled? Something that used to be part of his daily life. When had it gone away? How surprising that he’d noticed. Something was in the air, that was for sure.

He slammed the rear door of his SUV and opened the driver’s side. “I think, dear Matty, that I have found the woman of my dreams.” He glanced over his shoulder to see his hound sitting on the seat just behind the passenger seat. “I thought I put you in the back.” Her ears went down and her tail stopped. “Oh, all right. Sit there. But don’t you bark when I go in the store.” Her tan polka-dotted front feet danced on the leather seat and she gave him an adoring look, before shifting to watch out the window.

Purchasing the needed computer supplies took less time than he’d thought it would, so when he followed the instructions of his GPS, and knocked at Blythe’s door, no
one answered. If she was so hot to finish her work, where had she gone? Obviously she’d not taken Harley—his deep woof from the other side of the locked door announced that. Thane turned and stared around the neighborhood, a mishmash of cottages, some redone, others deteriorating but in a genteel manner. What had once been a working class neighborhood now showed traces of yuppie invasion.

“If you’re Thane, she went to the store,” a woman two doors down called.

And if I’m not Thane, did she not go to the store? Were there other neighbors spying as well? No one was peeking out of windows, nor skulking around corners of the houses. “Thanks.” He returned to his vehicle and debated; take Matty for a walk, go back home and work for awhile, or stay here and check for messages. The latter won out and with Matty giving his other ear a quick cleaning, he dialed for messages and set about answering what he could. Change of schedule for tomorrow. He glared at his cell phone. Now he wouldn’t be able to walk Matty in the morning or invite Blythe out to dinner. Half tempted to say he wasn’t free in the morning, he dialed back and agreed. One did not renege on one’s largest client, even though he’d need to be on the road by 5:00 a.m. to beat the traffic and get to South San Francisco by eight.

He left a message on Josie’s pager that he would need her to walk the dog in the morning and late afternoon. At the next message he shrugged, checked his PalmPilot and set the meeting for Thursday at noon, definitely time to walk and latte before leaving—and for that trip, he’d take
BART so he could work on the way home, as long as he got a seat. The Bay Area Rapid Transit sometimes seemed like a second office, and the sights of all the other computers and technical devices showed that others used their travel time as wisely as he did. He’d never learned to sleep on the commuter train.

He was just finishing his last message when a well-cared-for older car turned into the drive just behind him. Perfect timing. He scooped up his purchases, popped the rear door and went around to grab Matty’s leash as she jumped to the ground. While he had to boost her over the tailgate getting in, she leaped out with a happy woof.

“Hope you don’t mind my bringing her?”

“Not at all.” Blythe reached into the back seat for several plastic bags. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

Harley’s woof turned into a full-blown howl.

“Your friend is not a happy house sitter.” He followed her to the yellow front door. Pots of geraniums lined the three steps to a porch shadowed pink through the western screen of bougainvillea. A white wicker rocker with a cushion splashed in vivid reds, pinks and yellows had already invited him to sit and make himself comfortable before he opted to work in the car.

Not that wicker was his thing. His outdoor furniture lacked cushions over the teak slats, mainly because cushions needed to be taken in and he’d not taken time for such mundane things.

He waited while Blythe fumbled with the key, finally opening the door to a rush of Harley, yipping his greeting
to Matty, entirely ignoring the man looming behind his owner.

“Some watchdog, isn’t he?” Blythe motioned Thane inside. “Welcome. Let me put these things in the kitchen and then I’ll show you the way to my office.”

“Okay, dogs. That’s enough sniffing.” He raised his voice slightly to follow Blythe. “Do you mind if I take Matty off the leash. She has good house manners.”

“No, of course not.”

He glanced around the room as he unsnapped the leash and folded it to put in the pocket of his leather bomber jacket. Lived-in but lovely and inviting. Just what he’d expect of the woman who so intrigued him. She might call herself a graphic designer but she could add interior decorator and artist to her list as the two oil paintings—one of the waterfront at the park, the other of John Muir House out toward the freeway—both bore her signature. A trio of watercolors of summer blooming irises, purple cone flower and Mexican sage showed her artistic versatility. If she’d also taken the photos lined on the mantel, what was she doing producing playbills, menus and advertising for local businesses?

“There, sorry I took so long.” Blythe wiped her hands on her jeans as she entered the room.

“You did all these?” He nodded to all the artwork.

“Ah, yeah.” She shrugged as if they were of no account, as if anyone could create such beauty.

“I see.” Keep out of her business, Davidson, you have enough of your own. He picked up the packages. “Let’s see your computer.”

She led him down a stair lined with what he assumed were family photos interspersed with more art shots and lots of Harley. Harley sleeping, Harley running toward her through a field of California poppies, Harley looking up from nose digging, his muzzle covered in dirt, Harley as a puppy wearing reindeer ears at Christmas and a woebe-gone expression.

Matty and Harley both followed behind them.

Blythe pointed to the newer computer on a desk against the far wall. On one wall, sliding glass doors led the way out to the backyard and two computers sat on a table off to the right. A drafting table took up space in the middle of a room with one corner set up with easel and paints, and another with framing supplies of a mat cutter, clamps and a miter box. Tools hung on the wall above it.

“You’re a jack of all trades?”

“Yeah, and master of none.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“I’ll turn on the computer. Now that someone is here who understands it better than I, it will probably work just fine.”

“Please.” He shook his head, raising very expressive eyebrows to go along with the slightly sarcastic word.

“Don’t you know that mechanical and technical things always behave for one in the know? Like cars for a mechanic?’

Thane rolled his eyes and removed a tool kit from his jacket pocket before removing said jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. How like a woman to anthropomorphize even a computer. “They are nothing but a box, chips and circuits.”

“Frequently run by gremlins who delight in messing around with said circuits and chips. Not a lot they can do with the box. But keyboards and a mouse, that’s another gremlin family, I’m sure.”

He shrugged and pushed the power button. Nothing. “Guess it really is down.”

“Not that I like to say I told you so, but…”

“Have you ever taken a computer apart?”

“Once, when I added more memory.”

He pulled out the tower and began to unplug cables, whistling a tune under his breath.

“Would you mind if I go work on the other one?”

“Uh, of course not. Just stay close so I can ask you questions if I need to.”

“Dinner will be ready anytime we are.”

He nodded and removed the first of the screws. As usual when confronted with a failed computer, he lost all track of time and space, rebuilding the insides, and putting it back together. “These the installation disks?”

“Those to your right, yes.”

“Okay.”

After a bit, he asked her more questions about how she wanted programs installed, and when she came to stand behind him, the light fragrance of her perfume reminded him of summer days and citrus drinks.

“I can do the rest.”

“If I do this, can you get further ahead on the other?”

“Well, yes.”

“Good, then let me help.” He looked over his shoulder. “If you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” She shook her head. “Why would I mind? I just hate to take advantage of you.” Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized what she’d said.

He kept his chuckle inside.

“I mean.” It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Oh good grief…” Her cheeks deepened in hue. “I think I better go check on our dinner.” She fled up the stairs, both dogs jumping up to follow her.

Thane watched her go, chuckled and turned back to the computer. After all, he had to earn his dinner. The old saw, sing for his supper, drifted through his mind. Now
that
would take away anyone’s appetite. Shower singing was his forte. Matty often howled along with him.

While he heard Blythe come back down the stairs, he kept his focus on the work he was doing. About half an hour later, he nodded and whooshed out a breath. “You want to come check this?”

“Really? You’re done?”

“Hope so.” He stood and motioned her to the chair. “Try it and see.” He stood behind her after she sat and watched her nimble fingers dance over the keys, bringing up screen after screen.

“It is faster, that’s for sure.” Her smile made him want to lay his hands on her shoulders. “Looks like I just have to redo what I’ve done and while I’m not back to where I was yet, I soon will be.”

Turquoise eyes—I never believed there was such a thing. He smiled back at her. “Then I suggest we eat and Matty and I will get out of here and let you get back to work.”

“Yes, of course.” She broke eye contact and pushed back her chair—slowly so as not to bump into him. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“Sure you can, by letting me take you out to dinner on Saturday.”

She spun her chair around. “Wait a minute, that’s not me paying you back. I should take you out to dinner.”

“I asked first.”

“Thane Davidson, you have a weird sense of humor.”

“Good, then humor me.”

Banter through dinner is good for one’s digestion. Thane glanced at the woman across the table. When had he enjoyed a simple meal more? The thought of the good time they were sharing, besides being good for his digestion, his stomach informed him of that, melted the steel out of his shoulders and business concerns from his mind. Matty shoving her nose under his arm made him glance at the clock.

No wonder—her mealtime had long passed.

Thane laid his napkin on the table. “My friend here just reminded me what time it is. I need to be going so you can go back to work. Unless of course you are done for the evening.”

“No, I’m not. My client needs that project tomorrow. I had planned on having it done tonight.”

“No grace period?”

“’Fraid not.”

Thane stood. “Thanks for such a good evening.”

“Thank you for the computer repair.”

Thane felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He
checked the lit screen. “I need to get this, so I’ll be on my way. Come on, Matty. Say goodbye.”

He snagged his jacket and tool kit from the wingback chair where he’d left them and headed for the door. “See you.”

He glanced back to see Blythe waving from the backlit doorway, Harley at her side.

“As I told you before, Matty, m’dear, that is one special woman. You think there’s any special man in her life? She’d not indicated as such. I wonder what kind of flowers she likes best.”

Matty whined and looked out the window.