Holiday Homecoming (12 page)

Kristin. He thought about her. About how she'd looked last night in the truck's dome light, full of compassion and caring and beauty. How she was like the gentle peace of a winter morning, and he wanted to see her. He missed her company. There was a place deep in his heart that warmed. It was like the connection he'd felt last night between them, and he wondered if she was thinking of him, too.

 

Oblivious to the tension in the living room, little golden-haired Allie galloped in circles around the couch, holding on to her new toy horses with real manes, who were “galloping” with her. Her little sister, Anna, ran after her with one hand outstretched and the other clutching the couch for balance, making a shrill sound of glee.

Kristin moved her left foot in time to save it from being run over by little Michael's dump truck that raced on the edge of the cold hearth bricks. With the help of Michael's sound effects and guiding hand, the truck took a tragic head-on into the wood box, flew through the air to roll to a stop where Kristin's foot used to be.

“Uh-oh!” Baby Emily commented as she hugged her Sesame Street doll that was laughing hysterically.

Wearing a very fashionable red-and-green Christmas sleeper that said Santa's Favorite in candy-cane striping, Baby Caitlin yawned, stretched her little fists and nestled deeper into her mommy's arms. Seated side by
side, Kendra and her husband Cameron watched their infant daughter sleep with sheer love on their faces.

Kristin prayed that their love would last. She wished that for all of her sisters. And for her parents, who sat on opposite sides of the room, Mom staring at the brochure that held the tickets and paid hotel-and-tour vouchers. That wish was looking more and more like an impossibility.

“Look what the girls got us, Pete.” Mom held up the picture of a lush Maui resort.

Mom didn't look too happy. Kristin glanced at her sister Michelle, who was seated on the chair next to her.

“Disaster,” Michelle leaned over to whisper.

“Uh-oh!” Emily commented from Michelle's lap.

Exactly.
Kristin watched as Mom struggled to smile. Not a real smile. And the last of Kristin's hopes—and, she was sure, all of her sisters'—broke into a thousand pieces.

“Well, now,” Dad commented as even the children silenced. “That was real thoughtful of you girls.”

“You always used to talk about a second honeymoon in Hawaii, but with the running of the farm, there was never any time,” Kirby gently explained. “So we thought—well…”

“Since you never got the chance to go,” Michelle broke in. “We'd help you along. Merry Christmas.”

“That's real fine.” Dad's smile was too tight, but he was trying to be gracious.

As Karen and Kirby huddled around Mom, showing her all that the two-week vacation included, Dad stood
from his recliner and began clearing away the wrapping paper. Brody and Cameron got up to help him. The TV flashed to life. Little Michael had abandoned his dump truck to take command of the remote control.

Sam blew a raspberry on his boy's cheek and they chuckled together, father and son. “If you're going to take charge of the remote, you've got to make sure to turn it to football. That's it, hit that button right there. Good boy.”

The black-and-white Jimmy Stewart movie switched to a game in progress. The men froze, staring at the screen as a football sailed through the air—

“Incomplete!” the commentator announced and the men moaned in agony.

“How badly do you think we goofed?” Michelle whispered, keeping one eye on Mom. “I should never have pushed for this. I just want them to be happy.”

“That's what we all want. We want our mom and dad back the way they were. In love again.” Love, once lost, could never be found. That's what Kristin was beginning to see for certain. “You meant well, and it was a great idea. Everybody thought so.”

“I'm still holding out hope. I say they'll go on this second honeymoon and fall madly in love the way they used to be. It, like, happens in movies and stuff.”

“Uh-oh!” Emily shrieked, just for the fun of it.

My thoughts exactly.
Kristin knew all too well the look of suppressed pain on her mother's face. A second honeymoon was the last thing her parents wanted. Maybe their love had finished for good, and they would
settle for distant indifference for the rest of their married lives.

Sad. Kristin's stomach clenched so tight, she winced.

“I thought it was a fine idea!” Gramma sidled in behind them. “Just what they need. Once they spend their first evening dining on their lanai gazing out at that tropical sunset, they'll thank you. You wait and see. Kris, who gave you those earrings? They're just lovely.”

“A friend.” A friend she'd been trying not to think about all day.

“Oh? Which friend?”

“Ooh, Gramma, she won't tell us!” Michelle protested. “I asked. Kirby asked. Karen asked. Kendra asked. Mom asked. She just gets that panicked look on her face, which can only mean one thing. It's from a man friend. A
boyfriend!
”

“No! I never said that.” Kristin knew she was walking the edge of a lie, but—

“I heard you and Ryan Sanders were spending time together.” Gramma seemed so pleased. “First you spend time with him when you were home at Thanksgiving—”

“We drove together. We didn't go out on a date—”

“And now he's giving you expensive jewelry. Of course he's only a friend.” Gramma was beaming as she scooped Emily from Michelle's arms. “Come to great-gramma, precious girl.”

“Those are expensive-looking earrings.” Michelle chimed in appreciation. “Ryan sure must like you.”

Kristin leaped out of the chair. It wasn't because she was panicked. “I think I hear the phone ringing.”

“You know what Gramma says. One day the love bug's gonna bite you. Watch out, sister dear!”

“Yeah, maybe I have immunity to the love-bug bite.” Kristin escaped while she could into the kitchen where the whir of the dishwasher was a welcome relief. Alone, she grabbed a can of diet cola from the fridge.

Ryan. She'd been trying to keep him out of her mind all day. That couldn't be a good sign. Had she ever thought about a man so often? Not in all her life. Not once. What could that mean?

“Oh, Kristin. Would you mind taking out the pies? Your dad is asking for dessert.” Mom padded in and pulled a knife and a pie server from the utensil drawer. She looked so sad, even when she smiled.

If only there was something she could do. She set aside the can of soda to give her mom a hug. In the twinkle lights of the kitchen, with the sounds of Christmas all around, Kristin was grateful for her mom and her dad. Grateful for their health and prosperity. Thankful for the family that filled this house.

“I told Kendra I'd bring out the high chair.” Mom hurried away, busy as always, leaving Kristin alone.

As she was setting out the homemade chocolate-cream pies, the phone rang. The TV blared as the Cowboys gained four more yards on their second down. The men in the living room cheered, drowning out the sound of a bell ringing.

The phone. Kristin reached for the receiver, then
waited. The caller ID said Sanders. Was it Ryan? Or his mom? Over the noise in the living room, no one else heard the phone ring three more times. Kristin waited in the glow of the twinkle lights as the recorder beeped to life.

“Hey,” came Ryan's smooth baritone, deep and wonderful. “Merry Christmas, McKaslin family. I'm trying to get a hold of Kristin. I'll be in town until Saturday night. Give me a call. There's the matter of a chocolate milkshake we need to discuss. Okay? Bye.”

She could really like him. Maybe she already liked him too much. The tug of pain in her chest, deep in her heart, was regret. Not love. The connection she felt to him wasn't what she wanted at all. She refused to get carried away and let caring turn to something more dangerous. She had to stop this and stop it now.

She hit the Erase button, wiped away the evidence of Ryan's call, yet the link remained. It was a glow in the center of her chest that didn't fade but remained long into the night as she lay awake, listening to the wind at the eaves.

A fitful sleep claimed her and, when she awoke with the dawn, still the connection stirred within her.

December 31

R
yan hit the lights the minute he walked in the kitchen door. His keys landed on the tile counter and his shoes echoed in the quiet room as he glanced through the mail. A few bills, his school loan payment, an invite to some charity event and the flier from his local church. The last envelope in his hand froze him in place.

It was from his friend Mark, at the clinic in the Seattle area. The one he'd interviewed with in November. He ran his thumb over the tasteful embossed blue-and-green lettering of the return address. Mark had e-mailed him yesterday. Said they were still shorthanded and had a growing practice. They sure would be interested in bringing him on board.

Yeah. He was more interested than ever. His trip home for Christmas had wound up changing everything. Not that he would ever stop missing his dad, and
nothing would ever stop the pain of losing his father. But at least he could remember the good times. Like the sun through storm clouds, there was light, and it was easier to see a lot of things he hadn't before.

He liked Phoenix, but he missed the seasons. He missed being able to ski without hopping into a plane first. He wanted to be closer to his mom. She wasn't getting any younger.

Seattle was green and tidy and metropolitan enough to give him a choice in his work. It was located on the water. He could boat, windsurf and ride a Jet Ski during the summers. In less than an hour's drive, he could be on the slopes in winter.

It was a fairly short flight to Montana. He could pay for his mom to visit as much as she wanted.

And, best of all, he already had friends in the area. Jeremiah and Mark and Kristin. Kristin lived in Seattle.

What was he going to do about Kristin? He pulled the folded tie out of his jacket pocket. The colorful sails of the sailboats and Windsurfers soared on a soft blue background. It had been Kristin's Christmas gift to him. He wore it today and thought of her. Nearly every minute of the day.

She'd never returned his call on Christmas. He'd left two messages the next day and nothing.

No. He'd messed that up. He'd pushed her away deliberately that night he'd fled from the truck, when she'd been offering him her help. Her friendship. Maybe more.

He'd blown it, like he always did. He'd been alone for so long, deliberately keeping people away, maybe he didn't know how to do anything else.

Maybe that was for the best.

He wandered into the bedroom, wondering. Maybe he'd make a few calls on Monday. Find out if this offer was in his best interests. What would it cost him to move? He'd have to arrange for movers and look for a new residence to rent or buy. And his work—he had surgery scheduled out two months. He couldn't move before then.

It was a lot to consider.

He grabbed the remote off the corner of the dresser, where the housekeeper always placed it when she'd been in. The silent TV burst to life and a fireworks celebration exploded across the scene. He glanced at the clock. It was four minutes into the new year.

It felt like a new beginning. What was ahead of him for the coming year? he wondered. Would he find real happiness?

 

With her stomach in knots, Kristin snapped off the small TV in her living room and the New Year's festivities on the East Coast faded into black. Minnie, drowsing on the back of the couch, slit one eye as she passed by.

The kitchen was dark. She made her way to the microwave by memory after grabbing her favorite mug and filling it with water. Her nightly ritual—she heated the mug and water and grabbed a bag of her favorite chamomile tea. The luminous green numbers on the
stove told her how late it was. Where was Michelle? She should have called by now.

As if in answer, the phone rang and she snatched it up. “Please, don't tell me they refused to go.”

“Okay, I won't.” Michelle sounded cheerful. That had to be a good sign. “Brody and I drove them to the airport. They got on the plane this morning as planned. But I got some really awesome news and I spent the rest of the day at Kirby's place.”

“What kind of awesome news?”

“She and Sam decided to wait to tell everyone, until they knew for sure and there were no complications. But she's—”

“Pregnant?”

“With twins, thanks to in vitro! Isn't that totally cool? I mean, imagine Christmas next year. My little one will be here. Kirby's twins will be here. Isn't it totally amazing? Remember how sad it used to be, after Allison left us?”

“I remember. Nothing was ever right again.”

“But now it's like that's healing. We're all married and starting our own families. It's like coming full circle. Well, except for you. You're the last holdout.”

“And that's a plan I intend to stick to.”

“Sure, okay. Be stubborn. I'm sure when God's ready He'll send the perfect Mr. Right into your life. If He hasn't already.”

“Stop that! You're sounding way too happy. I like being on my own.”

“Good. But being married to your soul mate is
so
much better. You'll see. Anyway, maybe this trip alone together is exactly what Mom and Dad need. True love can heal anything. Don't you think?”

No. Kristin didn't believe in true love. Not anymore. But it was a nice thought, and Michelle had always been optimistic. Maybe that's why she had the courage to marry—she imagined the best that could be.

Where Kristin was too much of a realist. “I'm certainly praying that it does.”

“Ooh, me, too! Oh, there's Emily. I gotta go. Happy New Year! Later…”

The microwave dinged, an echoing beep that emphasized the silence and the shadows. Kristin popped the door and set the tea bag to steep in the steaming water. See how quiet it was here? How calm? How safe? Love wasn't safe, that was for sure. It wasn't sure and solid at all. She hoped Mom and Dad could find their love for one another again, but she didn't believe they would.

All it had taken was one tragedy to rip their world apart. Kristin had never recovered from Allison's death, either. She'd found a way to go on. Learned from that hard life experience that people of faith weren't immune to tragedy. It was a part of life. But you could make good common-sense choices. You could be smart and protect yourself.

That's why she was happy here. Maybe not blissful, the way her sisters were, but the upside was that she wouldn't experience the deep lows that her siblings might encounter one day. The fall into despair. The life she'd built for herself was a sensible one. She owned
this lovely home, modest, but a sound investment. She'd built equity and refinanced with an incredible interest rate. She worked hard, spent her money wisely and had built a very sound savings making a solid rate in bonds and CDs.

Yes, she had a good practical life. One that made her content. And content was enough. It had to be.

And Ryan? Well, she'd tucked his earrings away in her jewelry box. She'd added him to her prayers, wishing for him the best possible future. But she wasn't going to let her regard for him turn into anything as untrustworthy as love.

No, she was better off alone. That's the way she liked it.

January 19

Ryan's day could have gone better. Two hours behind schedule, he was stuck in traffic in the middle of one of Seattle's floating bridges. The barely measurable forward progress he was making in the left lane had stalled to a dead stop for the last twenty-three minutes.

The downpour turned torrential, and he flicked the windshield wipers on high. Hit the brake. Great. Now the traffic wasn't moving at all. His interview had gone way late, but it had gone well. He liked the clinic and their philosophy, and their waterfront offices were a definite bonus. He'd even checked out the affiliated hospital. It was all great, but it had taken time.

He had a seven-fifteen flight. If the traffic was going
to be uncooperative, then he wouldn't have time to look up Kristin.

The truth was, he was almost glad. Maybe the problem had solved itself. He'd been struggling with whether to call her, or whether to let their so-called friendship go.

He tugged Mom's letter from his coat pocket and unfolded it, keeping one eye on the road, but the traffic was gridlocked. A gust of wind roared around the car and the concrete and steel beneath the car shook from the force. White-capped waves sloshed over the concrete barrier.

He studied the numbers she'd sent. Kristin's home, work and cell-phone numbers. He certainly had the information he needed to contact her. Should he? Or would she refuse to take his call again?

He didn't know what he felt. He didn't know what he wanted. He only knew that the thought of calling her and seeing her again made his palms sweat. Nerves. Anxiety. Stress.

He'd leave it up to heaven to decide. If the traffic started moving, and he had enough time to see her, he'd call. Easy as that. But if the traffic stayed like this, he'd creep and crawl right on past the downtown high-rises.

An hour later, he had his answer. Twilight came and he'd moved to the far side of the bridge. Rush hour had officially started. He crumpled Mom's letter and tossed it into the car's little plastic garbage bag.

Problem solved.

April 11

“Do I have the best sisters, or what?” Michelle swiped her eyes as she gazed around the coffee shop
decorated for a baby shower. “Oh, look at me. I'm bawling again. Oh, I didn't expect this. I thought it was Bible Study as usual. You fooled me!”

“No, we surprised you.” Kristin wrapped her arm around Michelle's slim shoulders and guided her to the chair reserved just for her. “You told me you would be needing all new things for this baby.”

“I did!” Michelle glowed as she eased into the chair, her hand rubbing her swollen tummy that looked ready to burst beneath her pink maternity T-shirt. “Oh, this blue comforter set is so wonderful, Kristin.”

“It's from all of us.” Karen circled behind the counter with a tray of iced drinks. “Your favorite Italian soda. Oh, and there's Mary's car driving up. Kristin, would you help her carry in the food?”

“Sure.” More than happy to let her sister show off the new crib set, Kristin escaped out the front door and into the warm spring day. She loved her sisters, but she'd already been asked about Ryan nearly two-dozen times since she'd arrived yesterday. That was two-dozen times too many.

“Kristin.” It was his voice. Had she imagined it?

No, there he was, rising up from behind his mom's sensible sedan. He looked
good
. Bronzed with a tan as if he'd been getting more time out of the office. Unlike he'd been at Christmas, he looked relaxed. At ease.

Her heart hitched hard, and it hurt to breathe. He was the last man she wanted to see. How could Karen have sent her out here? Had her sisters done it on purpose?

He held a covered pot in his broad hands. “I'm the
official Crock-Pot carrier. My mom appointed me. I'm not just a doctor. I serve other useful functions.”

“You? Useful? Doing what?”

“Cookie carrier. Errand runner.” He couldn't believe she was here. That Kristin, whom he'd been thinking of and trying not to think of for months, was standing in front of him. Kristin, who seemed to glow with beauty. She wore a feminine soft yellow outfit, and the quiet color made her as lustrous as the first light of dawn.

What he felt when he saw her wasn't normal. It wasn't friendship. It wasn't even that zing of interest. It was…he didn't know what it was. His soul sort of gave a hitch of recognition whenever he looked at her.

What did that mean? Why, when he'd filled his life with work and responsibility and more work, couldn't he forget her? He'd never stopped feeling sad that he'd never made that call when he was in Seattle.

No, it was for the best. He'd learned the hard way. He was terrible when it came to relationships. He wasn't good at letting people close. It wouldn't work out anyway, and look how incredible she was. So amazing. She deserved a man who could love her with all his soul.

Why was he thinking about love anyway?

He watched the wind tousle her short blond hair, ruffle those golden strands. Furrows dug into her forehead, as if she wasn't sure what to do with him. As if he was the last man she wanted to see. “Why are you doing this?”

“Mom said I had to help.”

“Do you always do what your mom says?”

“If I know what's good for me.” He grinned, hiking the Crock-Pot safely into the crook of his arm. “If I don't, she beats me.”

“Why, hello there, Kristin.” Mom came around from the driver's side, looking way too proud of herself for an innocent woman. She was pleased with her efforts to bring them together. “What a pleasure to see you again. Ryan, isn't she looking very beautiful today?”

“Yes, she is.” It was only the truth.

Kristin blushed. “Thank you, Mrs. Sanders. Your new hairdo looks wonderful.”

“I got it frosted. And you, young man, stop telling lies about me.” As pleasant as could be, Mary thwacked him on the shoulder. “Stop it.”

“See?” There was no mistaking the affection in his gaze. “Mom is only starting to forgive me for still being a bachelor.”

“I want grandchildren before I die!” Mary called out as she marched along the sidewalk toward the coffee shop. “It doesn't seem too much to ask.”

“I'm waiting to procreate until after I'm married.” Ryan called out. “But you have a long wait. Marriage is too much to ask of a man.”

Mary stormed up to the front door, too dignified to answer.

Kristin took the opportunity to take a covered casserole from the floor of the trunk. All this talk of marriage between mother and son. Had Ryan been waging the same battle with his mom as she'd been having with hers? How could her mom keep doing this to her?

“I'm so glad my mom loves me.” Ryan winked as he closed the trunk. “She's in this difficult phase. I do my best with her, Lord knows.”