Christmas in Wishful, page 30
“I really love you.”
“I really love you back.”
As her fingers curled around his, Cam pulled her from the truck, into the shelter of his body. Now that the sun was dropping, so was the temperature. “It’s gonna hit freezing tonight.”
“Gardener’s intuition?”
One corner of his mouth quirked. “Weather Channel. We’ve been prepping at the greenhouses and garden center for days.” Which he’d told her yesterday, but that quick and agile mind he adored had been full of other things.
Keeping her tucked close, he steered them toward the fountain. “Have you stopped by here since our wedding?”
“I come by here every day on the way to work. You know that.” As Wishful’s city planner, she conducted as much business on the green as she did in her city hall office.
“That’s not what I meant. You’re deflecting. Have you made another wish?”
“Not since the first one brought me you. Why would I? I have everything I need and so much more.”
Tugging her to a stop, Cam turned her to face him. “Do you?”
A quick flash of something that might have been pain or guilt twisted her features before she put on that determined smile again. “Of course I do.”
Skimming his fingers over the curve of her cheek, Cam frowned. “This is me, Wonder Woman. You don’t have to keep up the mask here. I know today was hard on you.”
The smile dropped. “I didn’t want it to be. It shouldn’t have been.”
“You haven’t been quite yourself since Vivi was born.” And he’d been chewing on that for days. She’d seemed fine in the wake of the miscarriage. As she’d said, they hadn’t even had the chance to get used to the idea before it slipped away. They had time. But she’d kept it quiet, not wanting to rain on Mitch and Tess’s joy over their pregnancy. And Cam had let her. Maybe that had been a mistake.
Norah crossed her arms and stared at the fountain. She was silent so long, he wondered if she thought she could just out-stubborn him.
“It’s just harder than I thought it would be. I thought that would be us, you know? We got married first. And I was so okay with waiting a while. I didn’t even know for certain if I’d really want children when it came down to it. Not after the example set by my parents.” She turned back toward him, fisting a hand over her heart. “I didn’t know I could want like this. That I would want like this. But I do. And I thought it would be so easy. I mean, not the parenting part, but the becoming parents. And instead…”
Instead they’d had more than a year of trying. He’d been fine with that. What red-blooded man was going to complain about bedding the wife he adored anywhere and everywhere at her least whim? But he understood she was getting discouraged.
“Not yet doesn’t mean never. The doctor said it can take a while, and more time if you keep stressing yourself out over it.”
“I know. I know. I just…don’t handle failure well. You know that.”
Cam stroked his hands down her arms. “Norah, honey, this is not a failure. There’s nothing wrong with either of us.” They’d confirmed that. “It just hasn’t been our time yet. We just need to relax and let nature take its course.” Which he realized was tantamount to trying to hold back the tide with the wave of a hand. “You’re always telling me to have a little faith. Now it’s my turn to tell you the same.”
“You’re right. I’m working on it. I haven’t started measuring basal temperature and charting things and making us get busy on a schedule.”
“For which I am eternally grateful.” He well knew his wife’s organizational predilections and had been secretly terrified she’d bring them to bear on their attempts at conception.
“Even I’m not going to take all the fun out of the practicing.” She worked up an eyebrow waggle for him. It lacked her usual spark, but Cam called it a win under the circumstances.
He pulled some change out of his pocket, placing a coin in her palm and clutching one in his own. “Wishes for the road. Then we can head on home and do some more of that practicing, if you so desire.”
She curled her fingers around the coin and closed her eyes, her face full of longing. What would she wish? For a baby? For patience? He could hazard a dozen guesses. For his part, he had only one wish tonight. Rubbing a thumb over the face of the coin, he brought it clear in his mind.
I wish for my wife to have her heart’s desire.
“On three?” she asked.
He nodded. “One.”
“Two.”
They counted “Three” together and tossed their coins into the basin. The faint plinks were barely audible beneath the burble of the water and the coins got lost immediately in the hundreds of others glimmering below the surface. But he felt better for having made the wish, putting those thoughts out into the Universe.
Norah slipped her hand through his arm and tipped her head to his shoulder. “Take me home, Leonidas. I want to make love in front of the fireplace.”
Now that was a plan he could get behind.
“As you wish.”
“Just think about how much money we could raise for good causes with a Men of Wishful calendar!”
Caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance, Norah kept her expression attentive. This was at least the sixth time one or more of the Casserole Patrol had been in her office pushing this particular brand of fundraiser. It was Maudie Bell Ramsey today, which meant they were pulling out the big guns, as it were, since she was Norah’s some kind of cousin, multiple times removed. Southerners were hard-core believers in family connections.
“I’m sure you’re right, but the gentlemen in question aren’t exactly jumping at the…opportunity to pose for that kind of calendar.” Last Norah had heard, Maudie Bell and her compatriots had scared the local police department to death by suggesting they pose with nothing but their peaked hats.
“Psshh.” Maudie Bell waved a hand. “They just need the proper encouragement!”
I think you mean blackmail. But Norah kept that to herself. “Maybe so, but as I told Miss Betty last time, and Miss Delia before that, I don’t currently have the time in my schedule to devote to this particular project. If y’all want to take care of recruiting and bring me a list with the signatures of committed individuals, I’m happy to revisit the issue, but for now, the answer is still no.”
The older woman sulked. “Well, at least give me some good news to take back to the girls. Now that Mitch and Tess’s sweet baby girl is here, when are you and Cam going to give us another set of blankets and booties to knit?”
Norah’s heart twisted and the nagging headache that seemed to be her constant companion these days amped up from a dull throb. God, these interactions killed her. The casual assumption that having a baby was always easy. Or even that every couple wanted one. She understood people meant well. It was part and parcel of small town life. People were interested in and nosy about everybody’s life. But none of them thought about the ramifications of their questions and assumptions.
Before she could come up with a response to push Maudie Bell off—again—someone knocked on the door.
With no little desperation, Norah called, “Come in!”
Avery Cahill stuck her head in the door. “Hey Norah, you’ve got a package.”
Her palms went damp. She’d been waiting on this for two days. Struggling to stay calm and neutral, she reached for the box. “Thanks.”
“No problem. We’ve still got that meeting with Ethan in an hour to go over the last details about Wishful Wonderland tonight.”
“I’ll be there.”
Avery ducked back out, and Norah curled her hands around the box, stopping just shy of clutching it tight to her body. She found a smile for Maudie Bell. “Well, it’s been lovely visiting with you as always, but as you heard, I’ve got a meeting to prep for. Give the girls my regards.”
If Maudie Bell looked at her a little sideways for giving her the bum rush, Norah couldn’t find it in herself to care. She needed this woman gone, needed some privacy.
After another five minutes of protracted Southern goodbye, Norah finally shut the door. For a moment she just sagged back against it, letting the shakes cut loose. Nerves. It was nerves. Probably.
Moving back to the desk, she picked up the plain brown box, running her hands around the edges as if it held something precious. Which it sort of did. Maybe.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the scissors and slit the tape, opening the flaps. The assortment of pregnancy tests she’d ordered stared back at her. She felt vaguely sick. Well, she’d felt sick for weeks but didn’t know if it was anxiety or morning sickness. She hadn’t even told Cam it was a possibility this time. After the false negative and the miscarriage, it seemed cruel to get his hopes up. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted his hope to inflate her own. She’d been too afraid to find out for herself, too afraid she’d get another no. Have another hole poked in that hope balloon.
Was it real? Did it take this time?
Pressing a hand to the flat of her belly, she stared into the box. She was weeks late, but she knew stress could and did cause her cycles to go wonky. So she’d waited. And waited. And waited some more. This far in, the strain of not knowing was worse than the fear of yet another disappointment. God knew she couldn’t buy pregnancy tests at the pharmacy in town without everybody hearing about it within five minutes. That would get the second string nosies all up in her business, and she’d had quite enough armchair quarterbacking of her marriage and love life, thank you very much. So she’d ordered the tests online and had them shipped here to the office instead of at home, so Cam wouldn’t know. If there was something to tell him, she’d tell him. If there wasn’t…well, he’d probably weasel it out of her anyway. She just wanted to get through the holidays first.
Opening the mini-fridge in the corner, she grabbed a couple of bottles of water. Half an hour. She could get this done before her next meeting. Put herself out of her misery. Opening the first one, she began to chug it.
Her office door opened. Choking, Norah slammed the bottle down and made a grab for the box as her Cam’s mom, AKA Wishful’s mayor, Sandra Peyton, strode into the room.
Sandy arched a brow. “Are you okay, honey?”
Even as Norah coughed, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and shoved the box and its secrets inside. “Sure. Sure. Fine. It just went down the wrong pipe.” Waving a hand in front of her watering eyes, she tried to catch her breath. “What’s up?”
“Did I see Maudie Bell in here earlier?”
“Yeah. She had to make the Casserole Patrol’s monthly bid for a Men of Wishful calendar. Honestly, if we did the bachelor auction, we might get them to let that one go.”
“Do you want to do the convincing for that one?”
“I mean, no. But I feel like the auction would be an easier sell to participants than the calendar. Nobody’s suggesting they dress in their skivvies for that.”
Sandy dropped into the chair. Norah tried not to twitch. If she didn’t manage to nudge her mother-in-law along in the next five minutes, she’d lose her window to take the damned test until tomorrow because once they got into that meeting with Ethan, she’d be running from back-to-back events the rest of the day, finalizing set up of vendors for the holiday fair, attending Wishful Wonderland itself, and culminating in family dinner.
“So, since I’ve got you alone, I need your input for Cam’s Christmas present this year. I really want to surprise him.”
Resigning herself to the fact that she’d have to wait another day, Norah offered her the second bottle of water. “Well, I have a few ideas.”
“Well, you’ve done it again, Wonder Woman.” Cam squeezed Norah’s shoulders as they strolled through the crowded downtown streets that had been blocked off for his wife’s latest brainchild. Wishful Wonderland was part festival, part craft fair, part downtown holiday open house. Craft vendors and artisans were set up in booths all along the town green. Street-facing businesses were doing a brisk trade from holiday shoppers. From one end of the green, the high school band rocked out with upbeat versions of Christmas favorites. And the line for little ones to visit Santa by the fountain was wrapped halfway around the block.
“I’d say it’s a raging success,” Tyler Jensen agreed.
Cam watched Norah take in all the smiling, happy faces and nod in satisfaction, but she didn’t have her usual level of enthusiasm for a job well done. “It turned out well. Although, next time I come up with a genius plan for town promotion, remind me that it’s to the benefit of my sanity if I give myself more than two months to pull it off.”
Tyler’s husband, Brody, laughed. “Since when would you listen? You are the queen of overachievers.”
Norah flashed a self-deprecatory smile. “I didn’t say I’d actually listen. But maybe, if someone reminds me, I’ll think twice. I don’t think I’ve worked this hard since the anti-GrandGoods campaign.”
Cam wondered if she’d have been quite so driven if she wasn’t trying to avoid thinking about the pregnancy that still hadn’t happened. “Well, work is over, so tonight, it’s time to play. For now, how about a drink to celebrate? I hear Adele’s put together some kind of panel of holiday toddys.”
Tyler linked her arm through Brody’s and glanced up. Cam didn’t miss the small nod and smile he shot back. “About that. I’m kinda off alcohol for a while.”
Norah stopped dead, head whipping toward Tyler. “Are you—?”
Tyler beamed. “Seems we are.”
Even as Cam managed, “Wow,” he thought, Uh oh.
But Norah didn’t hesitate to pull Tyler into a fierce hug. “Honey, that’s fantastic. Congratulations!”
“Thanks! We’re really excited. Dad’s over the moon.”
“Why’s Sam gonna be over the moon?” Tucker McGee strode up, his wife Corinne and adopted son, Kurt, in tow.
“You’re gonna be an honorary uncle,” Brody announced.
A grin split Tucker’s face. “No kidding?”
“Congratulations! When are you due?” Corinne asked.
“Late June. So someone has to get a move on the addition to the house.” She gave Brody an arch look.
“I swear, I’m finalizing the design this month. I’ve just been waiting for Mitch to catch up on enough sleep for a consult.”
As talk turned to nurseries and baby registries and the possibility of a shower, Cam could see Norah’s smile begin to fray a little around the edges. Damn it. Every time they turned around, somebody else was turning up pregnant. She was legitimately happy for their friends, but Cam was afraid of the toll keeping on this brave face was going to take.
“Well, I say this calls for celebratory hot chocolate,” Norah declared. “I hear Carolanne is offering some up along with Christmas cookies at Sweet Magnolias.”
“Cookies!” Kurt crowed, turning pleading eyes on his mother. “Please, Mom!”
Corinne hooked him around the neck and planted a noisy kiss on the top of his head. “Well, you did eat all your green beans at dinner, so I suppose we can do cookies.”
“Yes!”
The boy’s antics distracted everyone else from the too bright tone in Norah’s voice. But Cam noticed. Worried, he laced his fingers with hers and squeezed. With a quick flash of gratitude and an I’m-fine smile that he didn’t buy for a minute, she squeezed back. What more could he do here in front of half their friends?
They made their way to the bakery, with a few stops along the way for the women to pick up ornaments and gifts. Sweet Magnolias was packed. Conversation drowned out all but the faintest underscore of Christmas jazz piping out of the corner speakers. At the counter, Miranda accepted a box from Carolanne Wheeler, who wore a Santa hat perched in her blonde hair.
“I see someone is indulging her cupcake habit,” Cam observed.
“Ethan’s on duty, so I promised to bring him some sweets. If I got extra for me, that’s just my delivery fee.” Miranda’s gaze skimmed over the group, settling on Tyler. “You told?”
“We told.”
Miranda let out a gusty sigh. “Thank God. I hated sitting on good news. Are y’all celebrating?”
“We are. Hot chocolate and cupcakes on us,” Norah announced.
As she moved up to the counter, Miranda edged back toward Cam. “What’s up with her?” she murmured.
Relief slid through him that he wasn’t the only one who recognized Norah was a little bit off. As far as he knew, she hadn’t talked to Miranda about their difficulties. She’d had her reasons, but he was starting to think it was time to break that silence.
He kept his voice low. “It’s complicated, but if you want to find some time soon to pull out your steamroller routine to get her to talk about it, it wouldn’t be amiss.”
“Noted.”
Armed with cupcakes, cookies, and the promised hot chocolate, they wedged themselves around a couple of tables in the corner. Talk inevitably circled back to babies and children, despite Cam’s attempts to steer conversation elsewhere. Norah held her own, acting outwardly normal. But she didn’t finish her cupcake, and the hot chocolate ended up more a prop in her hands.
At last, Tucker draped an arm around his son’s shoulders. “We need to be getting on. Kurt here has an appointment with Santa.”
The boy nodded with serious eyes. “It’s real important.”
“Yeah? What are you asking Santa for this Christmas?”
“He’s been very tight-lipped about it,” Tucker said.
Recognizing a plea when he heard one, Cam leaned closer to the kid. “You know, I might have an in with the big guy. You wanna tell me what you want so I can make sure it goes on his master list?”
Kurt looked around and leaned across the table to whisper shout, “A baby brother.”
Beside him, Corinne choked on her hot chocolate.
Tucker’s expression turned amused. “We’ll take that under advisement, buddy.”
Even as everyone laughed, Norah shoved back from the table.
“I just remembered I need to pick something up at the office.”
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