The Perfect Christmas (9 page)

“Yes,” he said in a whisper. “You should.” He re
leased her and she clenched her fist to keep from grabbing his hand again.

“I’ll see you at three o’clock on Sunday,” she said hoarsely, staggering to her feet.

He nodded.

He didn’t walk her to the door.

C
assie pored over every cookbook she owned. They were all full of wonderful recipes. Even more encouraging, the instructions didn’t seem too difficult. She had her menu set for this all-important dinner: roast turkey with a traditional stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh green beans with butter and sliced almonds, two different salads and three kinds of pie, apple, pumpkin and pecan. Her grocery list was two pages long.

Angie had offered to help with the shopping; she’d also volunteered to set the table. This was by far the most elaborate meal Cassie had ever undertaken.

Her brother, too, seemed eager to help. Luckily, Shawn was in town for a benefit and he’d promised to
hand-letter the place cards. He said he’d also do small drawings on each, which were sure to be highly collectible—if any of her neighbors recognized her brother as the famous mural artist. Well, even if they didn’t, they were bound to like the personal touch.

Reading over the stuffing recipe one last time, Cassie rested her elbows on the kitchen counter.

Unfortunately, her mind kept wandering from the page. She hadn’t seen Simon since she’d visited him in his home. He’d fully recovered from his bout with the flu and gone back to work.

Cassie knew that because she’d phoned and chatted briefly with his assistant who’d told her Simon was indeed in the office. But when Ms. Snelling asked if Cassie wished to speak to him, she’d declined and hurriedly got off the phone.

Simon hadn’t called to thank her for the soup, not that she expected him to. He was coming to dinner on Sunday and she almost dreaded seeing him; at the same time, she could hardly wait.

She hardly thought of John—John the engineer, John the perfect man—anymore. Only Simon seemed to inhabit her mind. And her heart?

Something was very wrong.

The doorbell rang and Cassie left her kitchen. Angie breezed into the room as though floating on air. This wasn’t unusual these days. Her friend was in love. Angie seemed like a different person; nothing upset her, nothing annoyed her. In fact, she glowed with happiness. And yet she remained secretive about this new man in her life. Still, Cassie had begun to have
her suspicions. In retrospect, the night of her solitary tree-decorating should have been a giveaway.

“You ready?” Angie asked.

“Shawn phoned earlier,” Cassie said and carefully watched her friend’s expression.

Angie revealed nothing.

“Oh, he’s in town?”

“My brother seems to have a fair amount of business in the Pacific Northwest lately,” Cassie said, playing along. “He said he was here for some benefit, but if you ask me, the one who’s benefiting is my brother.”

Angie turned away and walked into the kitchen. She set down her purse, then removed her coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair. “This is your menu for tomorrow?” she said, still avoiding eye contact. She studied the paper on which Cassie had written her menu ideas. “Three different pies seems a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”

“I wanted there to be choices.” It didn’t escape Cassie’s notice how quickly Angie had diverted the subject from Shawn.

“Simon agreed to come, right?”

Switching the topic to Simon was a clever move. “Yes.” Before she could expand or hint further about Shawn, the doorbell chimed again. Cassie opened the door to her brother, who hugged her enthusiastically. His eyes gleamed with a merriment that was due to more than the season, Cassie thought. When he saw Angie his expression sobered. He greeted her politely, even rather distantly.

“This dinner is becoming quite the affair,” Shawn
said, handing her the place cards. The artwork—small watercolors, all individual, of Christmas trees and bells and stars—was beautiful.

“Thanks!” Cassie kissed his cheek. “Okay, you two, sit down,” she ordered. She indicated the sofa. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I arranged for you to be here at the same time.”

Shawn and Angie took opposite sides of the sofa while Cassie stood directly in front of them, her arms crossed. “You aren’t fooling me, you know. I suspected the two of you were seeing each other.”

“We wanted to tell you,” Angie blurted out. “Well, I did, but Shawn felt we should wait.”

“We weren’t sure this was going anywhere,” Shawn explained, glancing at Angie.

“We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while,” Angie said in a small voice, glancing back at Shawn.

“If you’re upset, blame me,” Shawn said, quick to defend Angie.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” Cassie asked, directing the question to both of them. “I’m happy for you!”

“It just kind of happened.”

“We dated for a while a year ago after we met at your birthday party, and it didn’t work out,” Shawn said.

“For him, maybe, but it worked for me. I fell in love with Shawn.” Angie looked down at her hands, which were neatly folded in her lap.

“Oh, my goodness!” Cassie brought one hand to her mouth. “Simon wouldn’t take you on as a client because
you were in love with someone else. That someone was my brother, wasn’t it?”

Angie’s ears turned red as she nodded. “Shawn and I went out last year, like he said, and just when everything seemed to be going well…I didn’t hear from him.”

“I was traveling a lot,” he said. “A relationship’s hard when I’m on the road so much. Besides, I was falling for Angie and it scared me. I’d dated plenty of women but I didn’t feel about them the way I did about Angie—and I panicked.”

“I was distraught when we broke up,” Angie whispered. “I wanted to tell you, but Shawn—”

“You never said a word.” Cassie was embarrassed that she’d been so oblivious. “Before
or
after you called it quits.”

Angie shrugged apologetically.

“I like my privacy,” Shawn said. “You know that.”

Cassie couldn’t help being a little hurt. “For crying out loud, I’m your sister.”

“I’m sorry.” Shawn did appear regretful. “Neither of us meant to offend you or anything.”

“After we broke it off, I tried to move on,” Angie said. “Which is why I agreed when my mother wanted me to meet the matchmaker.”

“I made an effort to get over Angie, too,” Shawn confessed, smiling at her, “but I couldn’t get her out of my mind.”

“Then we met again just before Thanksgiving.”

“Here,” Angie clarified. They both nodded.

“And I realized how much I’d missed Angie,” he
went on, “and how foolish I’d been to let our relationship end.”

“And
I
realized that Simon was right and despite everything, I was still in love with Shawn.”

They slid closer on the couch and Shawn took Angie’s hand. They stared into each other’s eyes.

Cassie wanted to kick them both for being so foolish, for not understanding what they had the first time around. They deserved a second kick for keeping it a secret from her.

“We’ve been so happy,” Angie told her, “and I was afraid that if we said anything, you’d feel left out.”

“Left out? If I feel left out it’s because you guys—two of the most important people in my life—didn’t let me in on something as big as this!”

“We did plan to tell you,” Angie said.

“And when would that have been?”

“After the big dinner party.”

Cassie laughed. “So that’s why it was so easy to convince you to make an appearance.”

Shawn nodded. “Now that you know, we don’t have to show up, do we? Angie and I have better things to do than attend this crazy dinner party of yours.”

“Shawn,” Angie chastised.

The hopeful expression on his face was enough to make Cassie laugh. “No, you two are excused. Angie, you don’t need to help with the shopping.”

“I’ll come if you want,” Angie said.

She would, too, but Cassie could see that she’d rather be alone with Shawn than spend the day in a crowded grocery store.

“I’ll be fine. Do something productive with your time, though—like shopping for an engagement ring.”

Angie blushed again and Shawn cleared his throat. “As it happens, I have a ring picked out.”

“You do?” Angie asked with tears in her voice.

“I’m not letting you get away from me again,” Shawn said. “There’s still plenty to discuss, but I can’t see—”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll marry you and, yes, there’s a lot still to be decided. But there’s no obstacle the two of us can’t overcome.”

They left a few minutes later, so in love they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Cassie had difficulty wiping the grin off her face. Shawn and Angie were perfect together. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before—or noticed what was going on. Angie would probably move away from Seattle once they were married, which was the only disadvantage to an otherwise ideal situation.

All of a sudden it became crucial to talk to Simon. She had his office number and as she suspected he had an answering service.

“Would you please ask Mr. Dodson to return my call? It’s…an emergency.”

She didn’t have to wait long for him to call back. When his name flashed across caller ID, Cassie exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

“Simon?” she said.

“Yes.”

Cassie smiled at his gruff, unfriendly tone. She felt better already.

“There’s been a change in our dinner plans.”

“That’s why you phoned?”

“Yes. My brother and Angie won’t be attending.”

“That’s your emergency?’

“This might not be earth-shattering to you but—”

“Cassie…”

“I knew they were secretly involved, or at least I guessed they were. It’s wonderful for them. They make a fabulous couple. I couldn’t be happier, even if it means I’m going to lose my best friend.”

Her outburst was followed by a short silence. “I don’t quite understand why you called me. And I suggest you think of it as gaining a sister-in-law,” he advised wryly, “not losing a friend.”

“Yes, that’s true, but she’ll leave Seattle and the lab…?. Anyway,” she said in a more cheerful voice, “I wanted to let you know you were right about her being in love.”

“Of course I was right. Did you seriously doubt it?”

“Well, perhaps not.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have called. You must consider me a nuisance.”

“We can agree on that,” he murmured.

“I know you regret taking me on as a client and I apologize for being such a pest.”

“I’ve dealt with worse clients.”

Funny how reassuring Cassie found even that faint encouragement.

He exhaled slowly. “You’re upset. Is it because of your friend and your brother? Anything that upsets the
status quo—even a good thing like this—takes time to accept.”

Cassie wasn’t sure why she’d felt such an overwhelming urge to hear his voice. His certainty was comforting, she supposed. He always had an answer, a reason, a solution.

“How can I help?” he asked, his tone almost gentle.

“I…I don’t know.”

“I have an idea,” he said, his voice brightening.

“What?”

“I’ll tell you something else about John.”

“John?”

“The man I’ve matched you with.”

“Oh. Yes.” The man she’d paid thirty thousand dollars to meet. He’d completely slipped her mind.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me think about it.”

“What were you doing?” She felt guilty at the thought of interrupting him. “Before I called.”

“What was I doing?” he repeated. “Why do you ask?”

“If I’m being too much of a bother, I’ll hang up.” She viewed him as someone who operated with purpose. Someone whose day was filled with constant demands. He had too many responsibilities to be interrupted by such mundane matters as her doubts and insecurities.

“I’m watching a college football game.”

“You watch football?” He couldn’t have shocked her more had he said he was on an aircraft headed for the moon. Practically every day Simon surprised her with how…
human
he was.

“Why would you find that unusual?”

“I didn’t think football would interest you. It’s so…so normal.”

He laughed. “I am normal, Cassie. I’m like every other man.”

“No, you aren’t,” she insisted. “You aren’t like any other man I’ve ever known, and now I’m seeing this whole other side of you and it’s confusing.”

He muttered something under his breath; it sounded as if he’d said he was confused himself, but Cassie couldn’t be sure of that.

“About John,” he said, changing the subject.

“I don’t want to hear about John right now.”

“Maybe you should. It’ll adjust your focus.”

“No, thanks. I’ll be meeting him soon, won’t I?”

“I can arrange the meeting for Monday afternoon if you like. When I last spoke to him about scheduling a face-to-face, John was ecstatic. He’s
very
eager to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh.”

“He called it an early Christmas gift.”

“Oh, yes, Christmas.”

Silence stretched between them.

“I’ll get to your condo a few minutes early,” Simon said, filling the empty space. “I have your address. From your application—and the check.”

The thirty-thousand-dollar check…

“See you then,” he added.

“Yes, for dinner.” Not until she’d hung up her phone, did she wonder why he wanted to come early.

C
assie was up half the night baking pies and getting everything ready for her final task. Her alarm went off at six on Sunday morning. She staggered from her bed, got the turkey out of the refrigerator and nearly dropped it on the kitchen floor. Who knew twenty pounds would be so heavy?

Because she’d methodically planned every detail of the dinner preparations, she was right on schedule. She stuffed the turkey and it was in the oven and roasting nicely an hour later. She started on the salads next. The dining room table was set with a crisp white linen cloth. There were sprigs of holly beside each place card for a festive accent. She’d arranged every detail with the hope of impressing Simon. She’d dressed in a red and black velvet pantsuit and taken care with her makeup.
For a final holiday touch she wore a ring with a large red stone.

He arrived a full hour before her guests were due, carrying a huge, perfect poinsettia for the centerpiece.

He handed it to her almost as if he was grateful to be rid of it.

“How lovely,” she said delightedly. “Thank you.”

She put the poinsettia on the table and stepped back to examine it.

“I love it, Simon.” Rising onto the tips of her toes, she kissed his cheek.

He was frowning when she stepped back. “That was inappropriate,” he said disapprovingly.

She didn’t point out that he’d kissed her a few weeks ago. But to prove how wrong he was, she kissed his cheek a second time.

However, when she started to move away, Simon clasped her by the shoulders and pulled her into his embrace. Then he lowered his mouth to hers. Before she could account for her response, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

They both seemed to realize at precisely the same moment what they’d done. They leaped apart; Simon shoved his hands in his pockets, while Cassie turned around in an effort to regain her composure.

As they faced each other again, Cassie made a sweeping gesture toward the table, hoping to bring some levity to the situation. “Well, what do you think?” she asked.

He nodded. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Would you like to see the turkey?” she asked.

“If you wish.”

“I do. You’re the one who told me I had to do this…and in retrospect I’m glad you did.” She led him into the kitchen, grabbed one of her oven mitts and opened the door. She basted the turkey and noted with pride how crisp and brown it looked. According to her calculations, it would be finished in forty minutes. Simon could remove it from the oven and it would sit for an additional fifteen minutes before being carved.

“Very nice,” he said, when she closed the oven door. “Smells delicious, too.”

“Have I surprised you?” she asked and knew she had, which was what she’d hoped.

He smiled. “I admit that you’re one surprise after another.” Which was exactly the thought she’d so recently had about him…?.

She managed to restrain herself from dancing a small, gleeful jig.

She poured Simon a glass of eggnog while they waited for the rest of her company. “Store-bought,” she confessed as she joined him in the living room. They sat on opposite ends of the sofa.

That wasn’t the only similarity to the way Shawn and Angie had behaved the previous day. Like her brother and her friend, Simon and Cassie hardly looked at each other. Neither seemed inclined toward conversation, either.

“I was thinking…” Cassie began.

“It seems to me…” Simon said.

They both stopped, then Simon gestured toward her to speak.

“No, you first,” she insisted.

“Please,” he said.

Cassie didn’t get a chance because the doorbell rang just then. Eager to break the unexplained tension between them, she hurried to answer. As she might have guessed, Mrs. Mullinex arrived first. She stood in the hallway dressed in her finest. For the first time in Cassie’s memory, her hair wasn’t in curlers. In fact, this was the first time she’d seen her neighbor’s hair, period. It was…curly.

“This is so nice of you,” the older woman chirped. Her eyes flew instantly to Simon and widened with womanly appreciation.

“This is…” Cassie wasn’t sure how to introduce him. “Simon. My friend. Simon Dodson, Mrs. Mullinex.”

“How do you do?” her neighbor cooed sweetly. “Please call me Phyllis.”

“Phyllis,” Cassie repeated. She’d lived in the building for three years and hadn’t been aware of Mrs. Mullinex’s first name, which didn’t appear on the mailbox, not even as an initial. Her neighbor had never seen fit to share it with Cassie.

“I didn’t realize Cassie had a male friend,” Mrs. Mullinex said ever so coyly. “She is a sly one.”

Cassie excused herself and disappeared inside the kitchen while she prepared the hors d’oeuvres. She’d leave Simon to fend for himself. When she heard the two of them chatting amicably, Cassie sighed. Simon possessed a few social graces, after all—but none that he was willing to display for
her
benefit.

Mr. Oliver showed up next. “The Seahawks game
starts at four. This isn’t going to take longer than that, is it?” he asked as he barreled past her and into the condo. He looked around and when he saw Phyllis Mullinex, a frown darkened his face.

“Mr. Oliver,” Mrs. Mullinex greeted him stiffly.

“Phyllis.”

They glared at each other like alley cats with hackles raised, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

“So…you two know each other,” Cassie commented, watching them carefully.

“No,” said Mrs. Mullinex.

“Oh, yes, we know each other very well,” Mr. Oliver countered. “Would you mind if I turned the TV on?” he asked as he claimed the most comfortable chair. Not waiting for a response, he reached for the remote, leaned forward and pressed the on button. The television screen lit up and he immediately found the station he wanted. It featured another football game—not the Seahawks.

“I’d like to introduce my friend Dr. Simon Dodson,” Cassie said, speaking loudly enough to be heard above the roar of the sports announcer.

Mr. Oliver acknowledged Simon with a disinterested nod of his head.

Her doorbell rang again. Grateful for an excuse to escape, Cassie rushed forward to answer. Bob, the rap aficionado from next door, stood on the other side. He’d apparently gone to some effort with his appearance; he’d greased his graying hair back from his forehead
and donned a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater. He grinned when he saw her and handed her a lone rose.

“Welcome,” Cassie said and brought him into the room.

When he saw the others, Bob’s face fell. “You didn’t say there’d be anyone else here,” he said.

“Oh…sorry. I assumed you knew.”

“So, dinner isn’t just for the two of us?”

“Ah…no. I’m sure you’ve met Mrs. Mullinex and Mr. Oliver,” Cassie said, motioning toward her guests.

“No, and I don’t particularly care to,” he grumbled.

“This is my friend Dr. Simon Dodson.”

Bob’s frown deepened. “You have a…friend?”

“Well, yes, sort of.” The last thing she needed was for Bob to think she was interested in his attentions. If avoiding
that
trap meant stretching the truth, then so be it.

The oven timer went off, and Cassie took the opportunity to leave and close the kitchen door behind her. After all her hard work, this meal was going to be a disaster. None of these people liked one another.

Simon followed her into the kitchen. “Should the turkey come out yet?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said distractedly as he slipped his hands into her Santa-face oven mitts.

“Simon,” she pleaded. “What are we going to do?”

“About what?”

“Can’t you see?” she cried. “Mrs. Mullinex and Mr. Oliver can barely stand to look at each other, and Bob thought this dinner was going to be a private affair between him and me.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said soothingly.

Cassie sincerely doubted that.

Simon lifted the turkey out of the oven and set it on top of the stove.

Cassie thanked him. “According to my cookbook, the turkey should sit for no less than fifteen minutes before being carved.”

“Do you need help with anything else?”

“No.” She’d seen to everything before the guests were due. “I just have to get the food into the serving dishes.”

Bowls lined the counter. Cassie was pleased with her organizational abilities. The potatoes were cooked and ready to be mashed. Green beans simmered on the stovetop. She drained off the liquid, added the melted butter and almonds and placed them in the bowl she’d chosen.

Simon returned to the living room with the others.

Then, picking up the bowl in which she planned to put the stuffing, she noticed something wrong. For a moment, all Cassie could do was stare at her hand.

No! Oh, dear. Now what?

Putting down the bowl, she opened the door slightly and peered out of the kitchen. “Simon,” she called in a deceptively casual voice. “Would you come in here for a minute?”

He gave her an odd look but did as she requested.

The instant he set foot in the kitchen, she took his arms and pulled him all the way in. “Houston, we have a problem,” she said in an urgent whisper.

“What kind of problem?”

“A very big one.” Splaying her fingers, she held out her hand. “My ring is missing.”

“Your ring.”

“Yes, my ring.”

He seemed unconcerned. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. Can’t you look for it later?”

“No.”

“And why not?” he asked.

“Because the last time I saw it, I was stuffing the turkey.”

“In other words…”

“Yes. In other words it’s inside the bird.”

“You’re positive?”

“No, but where else would it be?”

Simon rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

“What am I going to do?” A dozen scenarios played in her mind, none of them the least bit amusing. If someone bit into it and broke a tooth… “I’ll be sued!” she said hoarsely, covering her eyes. “Someone might choke on it. My neighbors don’t deserve to die, even if my newspapers do turn up missing now and then.”

“Dish the stuffing into the bowl. You might find it.”

“Okay, okay.”

“And don’t panic.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered as she transferred stuffing into the bowl, inspecting each spoonful closely.

“Mrs. Mullinex is a sweet lady,” he was saying. “I don’t know why you think she’d want to cause you any trouble.”

“And Mr. Oliver?”

“He probably wouldn’t even notice if he bit into the ring, especially if you left the football game on.”

“And Bob?”

“He’d assume you were proposing marriage.”

“Very funny.”

“Oh, Cassie, I just—”

Mrs. Mullinex stuck her head into the kitchen. “Anything I can do, dear?”

“Ah, no, thanks. Everything’s fine,” Cassie assured her.

“Simon, come back and sit with me,” the older woman wheedled.

Simon turned away from the counter and offered Mrs. Mullinex his arm, then threw Cassie a look that told her she was on her own.

A lot of help
he’d
been.

No sooner had Simon left than the door opened again. This time it was Bob.

“So,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “It’s just the two of us now.”

“Yes, well…” Cassie inserted the spoon inside the turkey to finish taking out the stuffing, but with Bob watching every move, she couldn’t make a huge production of plowing through it, searching for her ring.

“I’ve always loved stuffing.”

“Oh, me, too, but I’m not sure this turned out that well. I was thinking I wouldn’t serve it.”

“Let me taste.” Before she could protest, he took her spoon and helped himself to a sample. After blowing on it, he popped it into his mouth. He smiled widely in approval. “This is fabulous! The best I’ve ever tasted.”

“You’re just being kind.”

“Not at all. Here, I’ll take it out for you.”

“No,” she cried and made an effort to stop him, but to no avail. Bob carried the bowl into the dining area.

When she followed with the salads, she saw that he’d taken a forkful to Mrs. Mullinex. “Cassie says the stuffing didn’t turn out to her liking. I disagree. What do you think?”

Mrs. Mullinex gave it a dainty taste. “Perfection,” she said. “You’re being modest, Cassie.”

Mr. Oliver stood. “What’s a turkey dinner without stuffing?”

“I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s diet,” Cassie said, searching for an excuse, any excuse, to get the stuffing off the table.

Mr. Oliver raised his hand. “I’m on a low-carb diet myself.”

“Then you won’t want any of the stuffing,” Cassie said thankfully.

“I thought I’d make an exception, this being Christmas and all.”

“Oh…”

“Let’s all help,” Mrs. Mullinex suggested cheerfully. “We can bring out the rest of the serving dishes. We shouldn’t leave all the work to Cassie.”

Cassie sent a pleading glance in Simon’s direction. He, however, was looking elsewhere.