The Christmas Baby Bump (6 page)

“I was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow,” he said.

She welcomed the change in subject, even if it was another sticky topic. How should she best phrase the fact she had no plans for Thanksgiving and not come off as pitiful? Sure, she could go to Palm Desert, but it wasn’t going to happen.

She swallowed and said, “I’m having a quiet day.”

He glanced thoughtfully at her. “My stepmother is a fantastic cook, and she promised me a Thanksgiving dinner to die for as I’ve been taking care of Robbie and all, and I thought you might like to be my plus one.”

“Plus one?”

“My guest. What do you say? Great food. Even better company. You’ll like my dad.” He tilted his head, and his crescent-shaped eyes looked very inviting. “Robbie will be so happy to see them that he’ll leave you alone. I promise.” Phil was the distraction she needed—a guy completely unaware of her past, who didn’t ask questions, and with one not-so-subtle thing on his mind.

Did she really need to think about it? Hotel room. DVDs. Deli sandwich. Or plus one.

“You know what? I’d really like that.”

The full-out smile he delivered assured her she’d not only made the right decision but she’d also made his afternoon. When in the past three years had she been able to make that claim about a man? And it felt pretty darn good.

He looked as if he wanted to kiss her again, and maybe that’s exactly what she needed right now, a kiss to make her forget, but his beeper went off and after a quick glance, a forlorn look replaced the charm. He sighed. “It’s the preschool, again.”

Late that afternoon, Phil appeared at Stephanie’s office door, looking agitated.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“The damn weather.”

She glanced out her window at another perfectly clear blue autumn sky then back at Phil. “Looks pretty good to me.”

“I’m talking about Maui. They’re having a terrible storm and the return flight has been canceled until Friday. Looks like Thanksgiving dinner is off.”

She couldn’t deny the disappointment. Ever since he’d invited her, she’d felt a buzz of expectation, a curiosity about his family, and mouthwatering anticipation of great food. Now a storm on a tropical island had changed everything. “How disappointing…for them. I’m sure they’re eager to get home to Robbie and all.”

He snapped his fingers. “I’ve got an idea. Come to my house and I’ll order a turkey dinner.” His eyes lit up. “It’ll be fun, and you can help me warm things up. What do you say?

She’d swung from one end of the emotional pendulum to the opposite over this Thanksgiving, and here was yet
a new twist. Hotel. DVDs. Deli sandwich. Or spend an afternoon with a gorgeous guy…and Robbie?

It all came down to one desire. Did she want to have a life again? Or go on living in a vacuum. Hotel. DVDs. Deli sandwich…or…

There really wasn’t a decision to make. “What time?”

O
N
T
HANKSGIVING
morning, Stephanie put extra effort into getting dressed. She wanted to look good, but not overdo it. She opted for casual with jeans and boots, a pumpkin-colored top with a flashy hip belt, and a multifall-colored knit scarf to ward off the cooler weather.

She’d stopped last night at the bakery she’d recently discovered and got one of the last two pumpkin pies baked that afternoon, the kind of whipped cream you sprayed from a can, and a bottle of deep red wine to go with the turkey. She had no intention of impressing Phil with her culinary skills. Heck, she was living in a hotel, how could she? And wasn’t he the one who’d invited her to dinner?

She arrived at his house just before noon, impressed with the rolling brown hills and secluded homes scattered across them. The sprawling country farmhouse was the last type of home she’d expect to see Phil living in. In the distance, and far behind her, the ocean sparkled as if the bold sun had scattered glitter over it. She took a deep breath of fresh air, savoring the special view, suddenly aware that her insides were letting go of that usual tight knot.

Santa Barbara had a completely different kind of beauty from the tall purple mountains that encased her
desert home, and the flat breadth between them. Both were special, but the ocean added that extra touch with which, in her opinion, no amount of saguaro cactus or Joshua trees could compete.

With an odd sense of contentment folding in around her, she tapped lightly on his door before ringing the bell. After a short time the door swung open, with Phil grinning and with Robbie riding piggyback.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Come in.”

The spacious living room, with a stone fireplace and wall-long French doors and windows, was bright and open. The light-colored hardwood floors were offset by high, dark beamed and arched ceilings. The family room opened into a modern kitchen complete with cooking island and expensive-looking Italian tile floors.

Toys were everywhere. Pillows and books were scattered around the family room, and furniture was obviously askew.

Phil looked happy, and for a confirmed bachelor he was doing a fine job at playing stand-in father. “We were just horsing around, weren’t we, shorty?”

Robbie giggled and nodded, and once Phil released him, he ran off toward a beach ball, blissfully unaware of Stephanie invading his territory.

Maybe she was getting used to being around Robbie, because he hadn’t set off any internal alarms today. Or maybe she was distracted by the attractive guy right in front of her. He wore jeans and a white tailored Westernstyled shirt with the collar open, revealing a hint of light brown chest hair. And he kept smiling at her, his white straight teeth like something out of a magazine ad.

“You look great,” he said. “As always.”

The compliment stopped her. At the end of her marriage her husband had thought she was despicable.
Couldn’t stand to look at her and hadn’t minded telling her so. Knowing that, on top of every horrible thought she’d already had about herself, had almost made her lose the will to live. She shook her head, refusing to go there again. She wanted to move forward and she couldn’t very well do that by constantly looking over her shoulder, remembering the bad times.

Phil had just told her she looked great. Did he tell all his dates that? “Thank you.” She felt her cheeks heat up.

“I mean it.” He pinned her with a no-nonsense gaze.

“I believe you.” Did she? Did she have the nerve to tell him how fantastic he looked, too?

“Good.”

The antsy feeling made her need to change the subject. “This house is amazing,” she said.

“Thanks. I’ve only been here a couple of years, but I like to call it home.”

“Oh, here’s the pie and some other stuff,” she said.

He took her few items into the kitchen, reading the wine label on the way. Instead of sitting, she followed him, sliding her hand over the cool granite countertops and marveling at the state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances. This was the kind of home a person dreamed about but never intended to actually live in. And what was a bachelor like Phil doing here?

“This seems so unlike you,” she said.

“Tell that to my Realtor. I spent a year looking for it. This is the place I intend to stay in.”

“A guy like you?”

“Hey, give me a break. I may not be interested in settling down, but a house, well, I have no qualms about where I want to live for the rest of my life.”

“We really don’t know a thing about each other, do we?” she said, smiling.

His eyes brightened to daylight blue. “Here’s something else to surprise you.” He washed his hands and opened a cupboard. “I’m cooking today.”

The undeniable aroma of turkey hit her nostrils. “I thought you were ordering in?”

“I got to thinking, how hard could cooking a turkey be? My butcher gave me instructions, and they didn’t sound difficult.”

How many more surprises did he have up his sleeve? “Well, it smells great.”

“Hey, you’re gonna love the dressing. I made Roma fax the recipe to me last night.”

She laughed. For the first time in ages, she felt excited about Thanksgiving.

He washed a few vegetables in the sink. “What would you like to drink?”

“Water is fine.” Heaven forbid she should have a glass of wine, relax, and let her guard down.

He delivered her a glass as she sat on one of the stools by the island. “You’ve got to admit this beats eating in your hotel room, right?”

She gazed across the comfortable and stylish home and nodded. “You win. Hands down, this beats my hotel. I feel like I’m in a
House Beautiful
commercial.”

He smiled, obviously liking her description of his home.

“These are from my garden.” He held up a handful of new carrots, and medium-size tomatoes.

“You’re kidding me,” she said. “You garden, too?”

“What can I say? I like being in the sun. I like digging in the dirt and pulling weeds. Don’t tell anyone at work, they’d never let me live it down.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, taking a sip of water and fighting off an ever-growing crush on her surprising host.

“How are you at mashing potatoes?” he asked, just as something hit the back of her butt with a plunk. She jerked around, it was the beach ball, and Robbie had a guilty expression on his face.

“Hey, remember what I said about throwing that thing around in here,” Phil chided Robbie.

“Outside, Pill,” the boy said. “Go. Peez?”

“I’m busy right now.”

“Now!” Robbie said, throwing the ball at Stephanie and hitting her stomach this time.

“Okay, mister, you’re in big trouble.” Phil headed for Robbie, who didn’t take him seriously in the least. The boy must have thought they were playing catch-me-if-you-can, as he ran off on short, squat legs, no chance of escaping Phil’s reach.

Phil grabbed him by the collar then held him over his hip. Robbie kicked and griped. Phil glanced at Stephanie, his embarrassment obvious. “Sometimes I just can’t control this kid.”

“Tell you what,” she said, trying not to smile as Robbie continued to squeal with delight. She had half an urge to toss the ball back to him, even though it was against the rules, but Phil was setting limits and she didn’t want to confuse the boy. “I’ll peel the potatoes while you two work off some extra energy.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded with a grateful glance. “Okay, buster, you’re gonna get what for,” he said with mock seriousness.

“No!” Robbie said.
“You’re
gonna get what for!”

Stephanie couldn’t help but smile. She watched momentarily as they headed outside, an odd sensation
taking hold. Ignoring the nudge toward a change of heart, she headed for the kitchen.

Phil’s house was laid out so that the kitchen flowed directly into the family room, and the family room opened to a patio, and beyond that the huge expanse of verdant yard was accented by flowering hibiscus in white and red and assorted leafy bushes. From the large ranch-style kitchen windows she could see their wild game of catch or dodge-the-beach-ball or whatever their version of “what for” was called. Seemed as if all Phil’s griping about being stuck with his kid brother for ten days was nothing more than a cover. And Robbie was having the time of his life, laughing, throwing, and running all over the place. Looked like kid’s heaven to her. And Phil played the role of a benevolent uncle wanting nothing more than to make the kid happy.

Happy.

That was a word that had slipped from her vocabulary these past three years. As she peeled the potatoes, sliced and dropped them into a bowl of cold water, she pondered how inviting the old and nearly forgotten feeling was. Her lips stretched into a broad smile that reached like a warm glove into her chest and squeezed her heart. Welcome back to the living. Happy felt great.

It hit her before the next breath. She’d admitted being happy and she was in the company of a little boy. Wow. Maybe things were finally breaking through that guilt logjam.

Robbie was a sweet kid. Justin was a memory she’d always hold deep in her heart and never forget, but Robbie wasn’t Justin. She wasn’t Robbie’s mother. She wasn’t responsible for him. Why be afraid of him? Did she want to spend the rest of her life cowering around
all
children, or was it finally time to face her fear?

She wiped her hands on the dish towel and walked toward the French doors. As she opened them and walked onto the patio, she swallowed and took a steadying breath. “Um…” Her gaze darted around the yard as she picked at her nails.

Phil quit jogging and gave her an odd look. “Is everything okay?”

Her hand flew to her hair. “Yeah. Um…I was just wondering…”

He took a few steps toward her, a concerned expression clouding his good looks. At the moment, passing the medical boards seemed easier than what she wanted to say. Another deep breath.

“Do you have room for one more in that game?”

By the time the potatoes had boiled, Phil had followed Stephanie back to the kitchen. Robbie looked sufficiently pooped out and sat in front of a children’s DVD in his little corner of the family room. On a separate large-screen TV the annual Thanksgiving Texas football game was going on.

“I’d better put the yams in the oven,” Phil said. “I got this dish from my caterer.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the gorgeous-looking casserole complete with pecans on top. Phil opened a top oven, slid the dish inside then checked on the turkey in the lower oven, basting it as if he’d done this before.

“You’re making my mouth water,” she said, savoring the smell. She’d worked up quite an appetite running around with Robbie and Phil. And it hadn’t wiped her out emotionally either. If anything, it had invigorated her.

“It’ll be done in another half hour. In the meantime, I’m having a beer. Can I get you anything?”

Could she even remember the last time she’d had a glass of wine? “I’ll try that wine I brought.”

“You’re on.”

By the time they’d set the table, made the gravy, and laid out all the food, the few sips of wine she’d managed to find time to take had already gone to her head. The pleasant buzz filtered throughout her body, heating her insides and causing her to smile. A lot. How could a few sips of wine make her feel that giddy? Maybe this great feeling had a lot more to do with Phil, Robbie, and Thanksgiving than the liquid spirits. She took another sip, loving the way the simply laid-out table looked, and before he signaled for her to sit, she grabbed her purse.

“Wait,” she said. “I want to take a picture of this. It’s so beautiful.” She dug out her cell phone and snapped first a picture of the turkey in the center of the table, then had Robbie and Phil pose for one, heads close to the bird. Then she snapped one of herself at arm’s length with the two of them beside her and the turkey in the background. In her opinion, all three were keepers, even if the third one, taken at such close range, looked as if they all had oversize noses and heads.

Things had been so busy all afternoon she hadn’t allowed herself to examine Phil’s proximity to her until now as they studied her photographs. She felt his warmth and it called to her. Reacting before thinking, she turned and reached for him, gave him a hug, and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you so much for inviting me,” she said, a little bit of her heart going out of her. Though frightening at first, his welcoming reception gave her courage not to pull back inside. Maybe Phil was someone she could let her hair down around.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said with a sincere glint in his eyes, as if on the verge of kissing her.

“Pill! Eat!”

He rolled his eyes. “Can you imagine how hard it would have been to keep him entertained all afternoon by myself?”

She laughed. He’d given her a compliment then quickly yanked it back.

“Eat now!” Robbie chanted.

“Right,” he said. “First order of business.”

Once everyone was seated at the table, and their plates were filled, Phil surprised her even more. “Robbie? Will you say grace for us?” He looked at her and winked. “I got a note from preschool saying they’ve been practicing.”

The boy’s big brown eyes grew serious. He licked his lips a couple of times, obviously considering what to say, then he clamped his lids together. “Thank you for da peshell food. For my fambly. For Pill. And for Theff-oh-nee.”

With her head bowed, big fat tears brimmed as Stephanie blinked and whispered, “Amen.”

Thanksgiving dinner had gone better than Phil could possibly have dreamed. After they’d worn him out playing ball, Robbie was on his best behavior. And Phil had almost fallen over when Stephanie had asked if she could join in. She’d chased Robbie around the yard as if she were a kid again, as if it didn’t bother her anymore to be around him. After the panic he’d caused her that first night, this was an amazing improvement.

Dinner was exceptional, if he did say so himself. Not one thing got burned, except for the crescent rolls, and that was only a little on the bottoms. They were still
edible, especially if you loaded them up with sweetened cranberry sauce straight from the caterer.