Baby Under The Mistletoe

CHAPTER TEN

WHEN JULIA’S DOORBELL rang at exactly six the night of her first date with Frank her heart leaped from her chest into her throat. She paused in the foyer and took a few deep, cleansing breaths, but they did little to calm her nerves. Then she opened the door, saw Frank standing there, clutching a bouquet of lavender, and the tension drained away.

“Hello,” she said.

“These are for you.” He smiled, handing her the flowers, and she realized he was as nervous as she had been.

This realization had the effect of calming her even more. She was charmed by the fact that he cared enough to be nervous. Inhaling the scent of the lavender, Julia stepped aside and invited Frank in.

Then she wondered for a moment if she was making some horrible mistake. Wasn’t this how women ended up in the news, unsuspecting victims of violent crimes perpetrated by men they’d met on the Internet? If she closed the door, she’d officially be home alone with this stranger, and-

No, she had to stop this. She was being paranoid.

He looked around. “This is nice. Have you been here long?”

“Ten years,” she said. “I bought my condo after the divorce.”

He gazed up at the high, slanted ceiling with its wood beams. Then his gaze went to the wall, where Julia’s one great extravagance hung. It was an etching she’d bought a few years ago when she’d stopped teaching, a retirement gift to herself.

“Wow, a Lily Keith?” He crossed the room to get a closer look at the stark black-and-white image of a city bursting with life.

“Yes. She’s one of my favorite artists.”

“You have great taste. Did you know she has an exhibit in San Francisco right now at the MOMA?”

Julia blinked. She had to keep reminding herself that Frank was an artist and was therefore interested in art-not only football or hunting or the rest of the stereotypical male interests about which she had little to say.

“Oh? I had no idea.”

He grinned. “Would you like to see it?”

“I’d love to.”

“Tonight?”

Julia laughed in surprise. “I doubt we could make it to the city before the museum closes.”

He smiled. “Good point. But soon, we should go.”

She liked his spontaneity. She needed more of that in her life.

He looked back at the etching, and Julia took the opportunity to study him. He was dressed a little more formally this evening than he had been the first time she’d seen him, in a brown leather coat, a white button-down shirt and a pair of brown khakis that managed to somehow look relaxed and creative rather than stuffy and conformist. She loved that he had a touch of style, on top of being an attractive man.

She was already feeling silly for worrying that he might be someone to fear. He seemed as if he belonged in her home, as if he were an old friend who’d always been part of the landscape.

“You have a flair for decorating,” he said as he surveyed the room.

“Oh, I just have too much time on my hands,” she said, waving away his compliment, though secretly, she was pleased.

He eyed her. “I doubt that.”

“I was thinking we could walk to the town center and have a drink, then wander around to find a place that looks good for dinner.”

“Sounds perfect,” Frank said, smiling. “I don’t come out here to Promise enough. I’ve always loved this town.”

Julia got her coat from the closet and put it on. “The first time I came here, I knew it was where I wanted to live,” she said as they walked outside and she locked the door.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Oh, all over. My father was in the military, as was my ex-husband. I lived everywhere from Korea to Tulsa in my first eighteen years.”

They began walking toward town. Outside, it was dark, but the streetlights in the condo complex illuminated the way out to the main road. The bittersweet scent of the redwoods that grew across from Julia’s unit permeated the air. She loved being able to walk everywhere she needed to go, while still living right next to the lake, too.

“That must have been difficult, moving all the time.”

“I didn’t like it much as a kid, making friends then having to leave them behind and make new ones, but I coped. When I left home and went to college, I got pretty antsy living in the same location for four whole years.”

“And when you were married?”

“Oh, by that time I’d accepted that I didn’t know how to stay in one place. Marrying a military man seemed like the perfect situation.”

Frank shook his head. “But you’ve been here in Promise for quite a while, right? How do you manage now?”

“I went to therapy for a while before and after my divorce, and I realized leaving was a coping mechanism. It was a distraction from things about my life I wasn’t happy with.”

“So once you dealt with those things, you didn’t need to keep moving on?”

“Yes. I could sit still.”

“Must have been a relief to figure that out.”

“It was,” she said quietly. It didn’t seem right to discuss anything surrounding her divorce so early in this relationship, but she supposed vague references were occasionally okay.

“How about your divorce? Was it a very messy one?”

Unless, of course, he asked.

“Aren’t they all?” she said.

“I hear of occasional smooth ones.”

It occurred to Julia that she’d been letting Frank ask most of the questions. “And yours? Smooth or rough?”

“Believe it or not, we split pretty congenially. It had been a long time coming, and we both knew it, I think.”

“Yes, it’s easier if no one is caught by surprise.”

“I’m afraid the kids were surprised by it. That’s my only regret.”

“How old were they?”

“Twenty and twenty-two, but they were still pretty unhappy.”

Julia sighed, thinking of her own kids. “My sons didn’t seem to care that much one way or the other. Probably because they’re boys-they tend to keep their feelings to themselves.”

“Were they grown when you split up?”

“Yes, all three were out of the house. Once we didn’t have raising the boys to distract us from each other anymore, and we were settled in one place finally, there wasn’t any getting around the fact that we made each other miserable.”

Or, to put it more accurately, there was no denying that she no longer wanted to be married to her ex-husband. He’d seemed happy enough with the status quo. But that was a detail for another time.

“That’s exactly what happened to us. Well, and my ex-wife, Linda, had always wanted to live in the city and have a cosmopolitan life. The girls had been my excuse for staying put, and when I didn’t have that excuse anymore, she picked up and left. We’d grown apart in our interests and priorities, that’s all.”

She didn’t hear any bitterness in his voice, and she was glad of that. It also spoke well of him that he took some ownership for the marriage problems.

“And did Linda remarry?”

“Yes, she’s with a nice man and seems happy. I’m glad to see her moving on.”

“I thought we might have a drink here,” Julia said as they reached the main intersection in town. They stood in front of a lovely little wine bar, warmly lit and inviting.

“Looks perfect.” Without a moment’s resistance, Frank opened the door and waited for her to go inside.

She loved that he could let her select a place without having a debate over it. And she loved that he listened. And asked questions. And seemed interested in the answers.

If she wasn’t careful, she feared she’d start falling for him all too fast. Already she felt a delicious tingle of excitement down low in her belly, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in so many years, she’d forgotten it existed until now.

No, there had to be something wrong with Frank, some fatal flaw lurking about waiting to pop up and surprise her when she least expected it. She had to keep her eyes open wide.

The place was sparsely populated with customers. They found chairs at the end of the bar, away from the chatter of the nearest couple, and a bartender brought them menus.

“Are you a white-or a red-wine lady?”

“I like both, but I think I’m in the mood for red tonight.”

“Maybe we could each get a glass and try two different reds?”

“Sure.” She read over the menu, and once they’d made their selections and ordered, Julia took a moment to look around.

The other couples were mostly younger and hipper looking than her and Frank, but she felt at ease.

“So,” she said, “how have you managed to stay single all this time?”

Not that she expected him to tell the truth, but she figured she might get some hint of it with a well-timed question.

Frank flashed a wry grin. “I’ve dated a bit, but there has only been one serious relationship since my divorce. We were together for a year before figuring out we weren’t right for each other.” He paused and shrugged. “Since then I haven’t met anyone I wanted to share my life with.”

Julia nodded. Boy, did she ever relate. “It’s hard after having a long marriage, isn’t it?”

“When you’ve already spent a lifetime making things work.”

“I was surprised how much I’ve come to value my independence.” Julia’s face warmed. Was she supposed to say such things on a first date? Was it considered gauche to point out the downsides of relationships to a potential boyfriend?

Oh, who the hell cared? She didn’t want to play games. She wanted to be honest, damn the consequences.

To her pleasant surprise, Frank simply nodded in agreement. “Yes, exactly.”

The bartender brought the wine they’d ordered and gave each of them a taste before pouring the glasses. The spicy smooth taste of the merlot went straight to Julia’s head, and she found herself warming even more to Frank even before the wine had any real chance to affect her.

“I hope I’m not sounding old and bitter,” Julia said in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in close.

“Not at all. Do you feel old and bitter?”

“No. And you?”

“I did until I walked into that coffee shop and saw you sitting there.”

“Oh?”

Frank sipped his wine, his eyes twinkling. “Have you ever gotten into a funk and not even recognized the landscape until something good happened to shake you out of it?”

She gave the matter some thought and recalled the moment she’d seen Frank’s online profile. It had created an instant sense of dissatisfaction-as if her life suddenly was less for not knowing him. “I have, now that you mention it.”

“Meeting you shook me out of my funk, so thank you.”

Julia thought of chiming in with a “Me, too,” but it would have been the equivalent of heaping sugar on top of a hot-fudge sundae. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and basked in feeling the best she’d felt in years-decades, perhaps.