'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (24 page)

He held the small goblet as if acid bubbled from the rim. Then he lifted it to his nose and sniffed.

“Oh, that smells lovely. Sweet like honey, and rather spicy. Why don’t we take a sip? Go ahead, then, be a good boy.”
Obviously, when the aroma of the drink caught at her senses, it prompted Abbie to ease back the perceptual curtain she’d drawn between them.

“So you’re back? Look here, I don’t drink because I don’t like the taste.”
He reached over as if to put the glass down on the wide coffee table in front of the sofa where he sat, his favourite chair being occupied by his mother, who perched on it cross-legged in a supple yoga position.

Her glare didn’t become her, and he thought about telling her so. Before he could, his hand had fetched the glass, upped it to his lips, and poured some of the thick liquid into his mouth. Choking wasn’t an option because the lurker inside had taken over his motor skills, and she savoured the drink as if it were her last. Which it might well be. That thought stopped him from dominating. He knew he could, but…he just couldn’t. Let her enjoy.

In the meantime, he warmed to the flavour—until it arrived at his stomach and exploded. “What the hell is this poison?”

“Poison? My son, I’ll have you know, this is a very costly bottle of Drambuie I’m so kindly sharing with you. They produce this drink in Scotland. Your father and I visited their plant on our honeymoon.” Dreamy-eyed, her tone softened. “They make it with cloves, saffron, and a special heather honey. Your father loved this taste, and so do I. And if you were any kind of son, you’d share a drink with me and try to enjoy my company instead of making excuses to leave me alone.” The wobbling lip did it as much as the teary eyes. So did the yelling in his head. “
Drink the damn stuff already.”

Before he knew it, he’d again upped the glass and this time downed the works. Despite the blast when it landed in his stomach, he held his glass out for more.

“You’re right, dear one. I’m being a silly chap, aren’t I? A couple of drinks and we’ll both sleep better.” He looked down at the table in front of him. “And thank you for the toast. It’s cooked to perfection. Just the way I like it. Sort of burnt, and soggy with butter. Yum!”

“Oh, you are a dear.” His mother unwound her body, bounced over to retrieve the decanter that rested on a tray with other matching glasses, and poured him another shot. Then she nestled near him on his seat and took his hand. She rubbed her fingers gently over his knuckles and held on.

“Marcus, I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Aww, she’s just lovely. You’re so lucky to have a mum.”

“Everyone has a mother. Now be quiet so I can concentrate on her shenanigans, or she’ll have me promising to do something I have no intention of doing.”

“Not everyone. Sorry. I’ll be quiet.”
There was something in her sad reply that he knew he should lodge in his memory, something important, but his hand was being yanked, and his attention demanded.

“Marcus, stop trying to impale me with that silly glassy-eyed stare and answer me. You do know how much I love being here with you? Please tell me I’m not such a nuisance that you wish me elsewhere.”

He saw her plea for what it was. A way to soften him for the coming blow. The sigh erupted before he could stop it, and he knew she’d taken offence.

Throwing his hand from her, she started to rise. “Forget it.”

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down, leaving one arm around her shoulder while he used the other to pick up his glass and sip, playing for time to get himself out of the trap she’d so skilfully set.

“You know I worship you, old girl. Especially when you aren’t manipulating me to do things I don’t want to do. What is it this time? You want to go to London to see a show, or maybe the horse races so you can lose more money, or—?”

“I want to be a grandmother. That’s what I want most from you.”

His astonishment wasn’t faked whatsoever, and neither was his choking on his newly favourite drink. Once the awkward spasms stopped and he could speak again, he looked her way. “I don’t believe I heard you clearly. You want what?”

She gathered his waving hand and patted it soothingly. “Of course, I realize you need to have a wife first, or even a girlfriend. I’m not a complete ninny. But my son, you are not co-operating, not at all.”

“I think it’s a smashing idea!”

“I’ll thank you to stay out of this.”
She hesitated, and he strongly reiterated, “Not—one more word.”

His glass clanked on the table, and then he gathered his mother’s flapping hands and held them down.
“
Mother. Dearest. I’m not married because I haven’t found anyone I like enough, never mind love.”

“You haven’t found anyone because you won’t open your eyes and look. I’ve tried to accept dinner invitations for you at my friends’ homes, and your refusal to co-operate has been most exasperating. They all have marriageable daughters, lovely girls every one of them.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather like to choose my own wife. Look, I know I’ve left you to your own devices a bit more than I’d planned, but really, Mother, it’s taken a huge amount of work and a great many hours to set up a new office in this town. Must I remind you, this is the place where you’ve chosen to live.”

“I was born here, and your father and I lived here together very happily until he died. We have a lot of friends in this area. Son, I know I left to go to New York after his funeral, but I couldn’t face the memories then. I suppose I acted in a cowardly fashion, but you were at Oxford, and I hated the loneliness.”

“I’ve never blamed you for moving. In fact, I’ve wondered if you wouldn’t be happier still living in the big city.”

“Finding Jack and falling in love for a second time made me a very fortunate woman, even if we had only seven years together. Without him, though, life in New York soon became flat and empty.”

Her gimlet-eyed stare had him backing down, quickly. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m delighted that you chose to return.”

“Liar, Liar, pants on—”

“Truly, Mother, you’ve managed to get me away from head office in London and a probable heart attack from all the accompanying stress. For that I’ll be eternally grateful.”

Somewhat mollified, she relaxed her tense posture and continued. “After Jack’s accident, the thought of coming home and living near my only child kept me sane. I want to be close to you and my future grandchildren.” The pout worked and had him swallowing his sarcastic retort as it hovered, craving to get out.

Instead he settled on a mild scold. “I’d like to have a family one day, and I surely will. If I promise to start searching for the perfect candidate, shall we let nature take its course?” His winning smile worked, as it always had. Mollified, she smiled back.

She reached over to the whiskey and poured them each another drink and then handed him his glass. “I can’t imagine I’ll make you change your mind, even if I don’t want to agree. Fine, let’s drink to nature taking its own course. As long as nature doesn’t forget the course he’s on.” Her piercing look prodded him into nodding, and her gesture of knocking her glass to his, then raising it and waiting for him to do the same, forced him to down yet another drink.

“I almost forgot. The hospital called, our first with the new phone. They need more information about some patient you took in. Seems you forgot to leave them her address. Precisely who is she, and what’s wrong with her? You didn’t mention anything to me about this when you first arrived home. You told me you were at the vicarage.”

“Yes, well. A very strange thing happened before I went inside. A young woman fell near me and knocked herself out. Since the vicar is her boss, she wanted me to carry her—”

“Is she a friend of yours?”

“No. Never saw her before in my life. Why do you ask?”

“You said she wanted you to take her to the vicar because he was her boss.”

“Yes. So?”

“How did you know she wanted you to take her to the vicar, and that he was her boss, if she was unconscious?”

“I can’t wait to hear this.”

“Come again?” Marcus stalled for time, trying to figure out how he’d ended up with his head buried so far up his arse.

“I asked how you knew—”

“Hmm, yes. Well, the vicar told me. Stop grilling me, dear. It’s been a hectic day, and I really do need to sleep. I’m glad they’ve finally hooked up our lines so the telephone is working. I hope they installed the one I asked to be put in my bedroom. If so, I’ll call them back now, and, weather permitting, I’ll stop by and see if Abbie’s better tomorrow.”

“Abbie? Right. The young woman you don’t know.” Before he could say another word, she carried on. “That’s very nice of you, love. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gesture—if she’s awake, that is.” She added the last part when his steely glare caught her smiling.

Normally, Marcus strode everywhere he went, his bearing tall and straight, but tonight his natural gait seemed to have deserted him. Expletives echoed against her chuckles as he knocked his knee against the coffee table’s sharp edge, wavered to the stairs, and stumbled on a couple of the steps, missing one completely during his cowardly retreat.

****

Abbie couldn’t rest. Marcus, drunk as a sailor at port, had passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, but she had trouble shutting down. How much more exciting could life get than to find oneself trapped inside the body of another person, and that person a male? She had a million questions to ask, and her landlord lay incommunicado.

She lifted his hand and held it in front of his face. Then she opened his eyes so she could inspect the difference between a strong male hand and the dainty one she usually saw.

“Would you stop that?”
He sounded annoyed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would disturb you, considering your state.”

“And what, may I ask, is my state?”

“You do sarcasm very well, don’t you?”

“Only when people drive me to it.”

“I thought you’d passed out and wouldn’t even be aware of me.”

“I’m knackered, but not out cold, if that’s what you’re implying, and I’ll thank you to let me get some well-deserved sleep.”

“I can’t settle down.”

“So you’ll interrogate me, instead.”

“A few enquiries, maybe, but that’s only normal. I mean, it isn’t every day a girl finds herself quite this entangled with a man she doesn’t really know.”

“You consider the fact that you’ve invaded me, in the most basic way anyone could occupy another, entanglement? It almost sounds acceptable, using that term, doesn’t it? Salves your conscience, I suspect.”

“I have nothing to feel guilty about. You’ve heard the saying, ‘It takes two to tango’? Well, you tangoed into this entango-ment as much as I did.”

“Good God!”
He rolled over on his back, grabbed the second pillow next to him to shove under his head, and joined his fingers behind his head.
“I can see I’ll not get any sleep unless you get your way. What would you like to know?”

Pleased that he’d decided to co-operate, and recognizing how much she wanted to understand him better, Abbie still couldn’t stop her accommodating nature from making an appearance.
“If I’m a pest, I can go away. I don’t wish to bother you.”

The bounder laughed.
“You wave my hand in front of my face until I wake up, and then you tell me it wasn’t intentional. I beg to differ. Now, if you have something you need to talk about, let’s get it over with so I can grab a few hours of sleep before the blasted alarm rings.”

“Fine. I couldn’t help but wonder. Your mother mentioned she wanted grandchildren, and you told her you’d never met a woman you couldn’t live without.”

“Yes, so…?”

“Why?”

“Pardon me?”

“I said—”

“Yes, I know what you said. It baffles me why you would ask.”

“Because I saw you sitting on the vicarage bench, and you’re a very handsome man. Since we’ve been together, shall we say, I’ve noticed the way women stare as you pass by. In the hospital, the nurses were gaga over you, and so were the female resident and the receptionist in the office. Yet you didn’t seem to notice. Surely, if I observed them flirting, you must have seen them also.”

“I don’t pay any attention to that sort of behaviour. If you must know, I find it extremely embarrassing and can’t understand what drives silly females to behave in such a manner.”

“You’re having me on, right?”

“I most certainly am not…having you on. If an attractive lady interests me, I will invite her out to dinner and, if she’s agreeable, we might form an attachment. This has happened from time to time. But I’ve always managed to escape their clutches before things go too far.”

“What a pompous statement! Escape their clutches? Why—”

“Abbie. You have no idea how difficult it is for a wealthy single man, such as myself, to enjoy the company of a female without having to produce an engagement ring within a short time. All you women think about is getting married and having babies. Either that, or you’re career women who need escorts to various functions, and snagging a prosperous, decent-looking chap as a male addendum fits perfectly with the lifestyle. I’m unwilling to be anyone’s barrier to spinsterhood.”

Abbie didn’t try to hide her shock at his vehemence. “
My goodness. You do feel rather strongly on the subject, don’t you?”

“Fatigue is making me babble a lot of nonsense, I’m afraid. Look, I just want to meet someone I can’t imagine living without. A woman who’ll make me glad to give up bachelorhood to get married. When that happens, I’ll be a proper bloke and settle down to give my mother her grandchildren. Now, can I go to sleep? Please?”

“Don’t you want to know about me?”

He slid down in the bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin.
“Do I have to?”

She laughed. “
No, Marcus, not if it’ll be so painful. Go to sleep. After all, I have no doubt I’ll still be with you in the morning.”

“One can only hope. Good-night.”

Abbie wondered exactly what his last sarcastic comment meant. A smile lit up her insides and wouldn’t go away. What an interesting character she’d found for herself. As much as she wanted to separate and get on with her life, a conviction that the next little while might be very interesting couldn’t be ignored.