Home for the Holidays (12 page)

“So?” She picked up two shopping bags filled with wrapped packages, leaving the lone suitcase for him. “Did I say anything of interest?”

“Oh my, yes.”

“Joe!” She glanced quickly at her watch. They needed to get moving if she was to catch her flight. “Discount whatever I said—I'm sure I didn't mean it. If I insulted you, I apologize. If I told any family secrets, kindly forget I mentioned them.”

He strolled to her side and tucked his finger under her chin. “This was a secret, all right,” he informed her in a lazy drawl. “It was something you told me on the drive home.”

“Are you sure it's true?”

“Relatively sure.”

“What did I say? Did I declare my undying love for you? Because if I—”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“Just how long do you intend to torment me with this?” She was rapidly losing interest in his little guessing game.

“Not much longer.” He looked exceptionally pleased with himself. “So Martin's a minister now. Funny you never thought to mention that before.”

“Ah…” Cait set aside the two bags and lowered herself to the sofa. So he'd found out. Worse, she'd been the one to tell him.

“That may well have some interesting ramifications, my dear. Have you ever stopped to think about them?”

“T
his is exactly why I didn't tell you about Martin,” Cait informed Joe as he tossed her suitcase into the back seat of his car. She checked her watch again and groaned. They had barely an hour and a half before her flight was scheduled to leave. Cait was never late. Never—at least not when it was her own fault.

“It seems to me,” Joe continued, his face deadpan, “that there could very well be some legal grounds to our marriage.”

Joe was saying that just to annoy her, and unfortunately it was working. “I've never heard anything more ludicrous in my life.”

“Think about it, Cait,” he said, ignoring her protest. “We could be celebrating our anniversary this spring. How many years is it now? Eighteen? How the years fly.”

“Listen, Joe, I don't find this amusing.” She glanced at her watch. If only she hadn't slept so late. Never again would she have any Christmas punch. Briefly she wondered what else she'd said to Joe, then decided it was better not to know.

“I heard a news report of a three-car pileup on the freeway, so we'll take the side streets.”

“Just hurry,” Cait urged in an anxious voice.

“I'll do the best I can,” Joe said, “but worrying about it isn't going to get us there any faster.”

She glared at him. She couldn't help it. He wasn't the one who'd been planning this trip for months. If she missed the flight, her nephews and niece wouldn't have their Christmas presents from their Auntie Cait. Nor would she share in the family traditions that were so much a part of her Christmas. She
had
to get to the airport on time.

Everyone else had apparently heard about the accident on the freeway, too, and the downtown area was crowded with the overflow. Cait and Joe were delayed at every intersection and twice were forced to sit through two changes of the traffic signal.

Cait was growing more panicky by the minute. She just had to make this flight. But it almost seemed that she'd get to the airport faster if she simply jumped out of the car and ran there.

Joe stopped for another red light, but when the signal turned green, they still couldn't move—a delivery truck in front of them had stalled. Furious, Cait rolled down the window and stuck out her head. “Listen here, buster, let's get this show on the road,” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Her head was pounding and she prayed the aspirin would soon take effect.

“Quite the Christmas spirit,” Joe muttered dryly under his breath.

“I can't help it. I have to catch this plane.”

“You'll be there in plenty of time.”

“At this rate we won't make it to Sea-Tac before Easter!”

“Relax, will you?” Joe suggested gently. He turned on the radio and a medley of Christmas carols filled the air. Normally the music would have calmed her, but she was suffering from a hangover, depression and severe anxiety, all at the same time. Her fingernails found their way into her mouth.

Suddenly she straightened. “Darn! I forgot to give you your Christmas gift. I left it at home.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“I didn't get you a gag gift the way I said.” Actually she was pleased with the book she'd managed to find—an attractive coffee-table volume about the history of baseball.

Cait waited for Joe to mention
her
gift. Surely he'd bought her one. At least she fervently hoped he had, otherwise she'd feel like a fool. Though, admittedly, that was a feeling she'd grown accustomed to in the past few weeks.

“I think we might be able to get back on the freeway here,” Joe said, as he made a sharp left-hand turn. They crossed the overpass, and from their vantage point, Cait could see that the freeway was unclogged and running smoothly.

“Thank God,” she whispered, relaxing against the back of the seat as Joe drove quickly ahead.

Her chauffeur chuckled. “I seem to remember you lecturing me—”

“I never lecture,” she said testily. “I may have a strong opinion on certain subjects, but let me assure you, I never lecture.”

“You were right, though. The streets of Bethlehem must have been crowded and bustling with activity at the time
of that first Christmas. I can see it all now, can't you? A rug dealer is held up by a shepherd driving his flock through the middle of town.”

Cait smiled for the first time that morning, because she could easily picture the scene Joe was describing.

“Then some furious woman, impatient to make it to the local camel merchant before closing, sticks her nose in the middle of everything and shouts at the rug dealer to get his show on the road.” He paused to chuckle at his own wit. “I'm convinced she wouldn't have been so testy except that she was suffering from one heck of a hangover.”

“Very funny,” Cait grumbled, smiling despite herself.

He took the exit for the airport and Cait was gratified to note that her flight wasn't scheduled to leave for another thirty minutes. She was cutting it close, closer than she ever had before, but she'd confirmed her ticket two days earlier and had already been assigned her seat.

Joe pulled up at the drop-off point for her airline and gave Cait's suitcase to a skycap while she rummaged around in her purse for her ticket.

“I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said with an endearingly crooked grin that sent her pulses racing.

“I'll be back in less than two weeks,” she reminded him, trying to keep her tone light and casual.

“You'll phone once you arrive?”

She nodded. For all her earlier panic, Cait now felt oddly unwilling to leave Joe. She should be rushing through the airport to her airline's check-in counter to get her boarding pass, but she lingered, her heart overflowing with emotions she couldn't identify.

“Have a safe trip,” he said quietly.

“I will. Thanks so much…for everything.”

“You're welcome.” His expression sobered and the ever-ready mirth fled from his eyes. Cait wasn't sure who moved first. All she knew was that she was in Joe's arms, his thumb caressing the softness of her cheek as they gazed hungrily into each other's eyes.

He leaned forward to kiss her. Cait's eyes drifted shut as his mouth met hers.

At first Joe's kiss was tender but it quickly grew in fervor. The noise and activity around them seemed to fade into the distance. Cait could feel herself dissolving. She moaned and arched closer, not wanting to leave the protective haven of his arms. Joe shuddered and hugged her tight, as if he, too, found it difficult to part.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered, releasing her with a reluctance that made her feel…giddy. Confused.
Happy
.

“Merry Christmas,” she echoed, but she didn't move.

Joe gave her the gentlest of nudges. “You'd better hurry, Cait.”

“Oh, right,” she said, momentarily forgetting why she was at the airport. Reaching for the bags filled with gaily wrapped Christmas packages, she took two steps backward. “I'll phone when I get there.”

“Do. I'll be waiting to hear from you.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and Cait had the distinct impression he did it to stop himself from reaching for her again. The thought was a romantic one, a certainty straight from her heart.

Her heart…Her heart was full of feeling for Joe. More than she'd ever realized. He'd dominated her life these past few weeks—taking her to dinner, bribing his way back into her good graces with pizza, taking her on a
Christmas shopping expedition, escorting her to Paul's party. Joe had become her whole world. Joe, not Paul. Joe.

Given no other choice, Cait abruptly turned and hurried into the airport, where she checked in, then went through security and down the concourse to the proper gate.

The flight had already been called and only a handful of passengers had yet to board.

Cait dashed to the counter with her boarding pass. A young soldier stood just ahead of her. “But you don't understand,” the tall marine was saying to the airline employee. “I booked this flight over a month ago. I've got to be on that plane!”

“I'm so sorry,” the woman apologized, her dark eyes regretful. “This sort of thing happens, especially during holidays, but your ticket's for standby. I wish I could do something for you, but there isn't a single seat available.”

“But I haven't seen my family in over a year. My uncle Harvey's driving from Duluth to visit. He was in the marines, too. My mom's been baking for three weeks. Don't you see? I can't disappoint them now!”

Cait watched as the agent rechecked her computer. “If I could magically create a seat for you, I would,” she said sympathetically. “But there just isn't one.”

“But when I bought the ticket, the woman told me I wouldn't have a problem getting on the flight. She said there're always no-shows.”

“I'm so sorry,” the agent repeated, looking past the young marine to Cait.

“All right,” he said, forcefully expelling his breath. “When's the next flight with available space? Any flight within a hundred miles of Minneapolis. I'll walk the rest of the way if I have to.”

Once again, the woman consulted her computer. “We have space available the evening of the twenty-sixth.”

“The twenty-sixth!” the young man shouted. “But that's after Christmas and eats up nearly all my leave. I'd be home for less than a week.”

“May I help you?” the airline employee said to Cait. She looked almost as unhappy as the marine, but apparently there wasn't anything she could do to help him.

Cait stepped forward and handed the woman her boarding pass. The soldier gazed at it longingly, then moved dejectedly from the counter and lowered himself into one of the molded plastic chairs.

Cait hesitated, remembering how she'd stuck her head out the window of Joe's truck on their drive to the airport and shouted impatiently at the truck driver who was holding up traffic. A conversation she'd had with Joe earlier returned to haunt her. She'd argued that Christmas was a time filled with love and good cheer, the one holiday that brought out the very best in everyone. And sometimes, Joe had insisted, the very worst.

“Since you already have your seat assignment, you may board the flight now.”

The urge to hurry nearly overwhelmed Cait, yet she hesitated once again.

“Excuse me,” Cait said, drawing a deep breath and making her decision. She approached the soldier. He seemed impossibly young now that she had a good look at him. No more than eighteen, maybe nineteen. He'd probably joined the service right out of high school. His hair was cropped close to his head and his combat boots were so shiny Cait could see her reflection in them.

The marine glanced up at her, his face heavy with defeat. “Yes?”

“Did I hear you say you needed to be on this flight?”

“I have a ticket, ma'am. But it's standby and there aren't any seats.”

“Listen,” she said. “You can have mine.”

The way his face lit up was enough to blot out her own disappointment at missing Christmas with Martin and her sister-in-law. The kids. Her mother…“My family's in Minneapolis, too, but I was there this summer.”

“Ma'am, I can't let you do this.”

“Don't cheat me out of the pleasure.”

As they approached the counter to effect the exchange, the last call for the flight was announced. The marine stood, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I insist,” Cait said, her throat growing thick. “Here.” She handed him the two bags full of gifts for her nephews and nieces. “There'll be a man waiting at the other end. A tall minister—he'll have a collar on. Give him these. I'll phone so he'll know to look for you.”

“Thank you for everything…I can't believe you're doing this.”

Cait smiled. Impulsively the marine hugged her, then swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he picked up the two bags of gifts and jogged over to the ramp.

Cait waited for a couple of minutes, then wiped the tears from her eyes. She wasn't completely sure why she was crying. She'd never felt better in her life.

 

It was around six when she awoke. The apartment was dark and silent. Sighing, she picked up the phone, dragged it onto the bed with her and punched out Joe's number.

He answered on the first ring, as if he'd been waiting for her call. “How was the flight?” he asked immediately.

“I wouldn't know. I wasn't on it.”

“You missed the plane!” he shouted incredulously. “But you were there in plenty of time.”

“I know. It's a long story, but basically, I gave my seat to someone who needed it more than I did.” She smiled dreamily, remembering how the young marine's face had lit up. “I'll tell you about it later.”

“Where are you now?”

“Home.”

He exhaled sharply, then said, “I'll be over in fifteen minutes.”