million sensations twinkled through her. She nearly said, I want you to stay. I want you to love me. But she only smiled. “I like chicken.”
“You mean fried chicken?”
She nodded.
“Fried chicken it is.”
She was ready for them when they arrived a little after six. Paper plates and plastic forks were already on the kitchen table, so they wouldn’t have much clean up and could get right to decorating the tree.
She opened the door with a big smile, but from the shell-shocked look on Rory’s face, Shannon suspected that Finley had asked him about her mom.
She hustled them inside. “I set up the kitchen table. We can eat first, decorate second.”
Not thinking about her own longings, and more concerned about how Rory had handled “the” question, she shooed Finley ahead and stopped Rory short of the door.
“She asked you, didn’t she?”
He rubbed his hand down his face. “About her mom?”
She nodded.
“Yeah.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth. Or at least as much of it as I could say without hurting her.” He sucked in a breath. “She’s six. I don’t want to tell her that her mom doesn’t love her—doesn’t even want to see her.”
“Of course not.”
“She was oddly accepting of the fact that Bonnie left. Almost as if she was just curious about where she was.”
Shannon let out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. “So that’s good.”
“Yeah. But I have a feeling bigger questions will be coming.”
“Maybe.”
He chuckled. “Probably.”
Finley pushed open the swinging door. “I’m hungry!”
When she spun around and the door swung closed behind her, Shannon started for the kitchen, but Rory stopped her.
“Thanks.”
Her eyebrows rose. “For what?”
“For being so good to her. For listening to me when I need somebody to talk about this stuff with.”
“Haven’t you talked about these things with your friends?”
He cast her a look. “Do you tell your friends about your divorce?”
She felt her face redden. “Not really.”
“That’s why it’s so nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who will listen without judging.”
Understanding, she inclined her head. Even though telling him about her inability to have kids had been painful, it had been nice finally to have someone to talk to.
Someone who understood.
A little bit of her burden lessened. He did understand. She might have effectively ended the romantic aspect of their relationship, but maybe she didn’t need a romance as much as she needed somebody who truly understood her pain. Somebody who truly understood that sometimes life could be incredibly unfair.
She smiled at him. “I think we better get into the kitchen.”
He laughed, slung his arm across her shoulder. “Yep.”
The casualness of the gesture seeped into her soul. He liked her. She liked him. They were friends. Real friends, who knew the worst about each other’s lives and didn’t feel sorry, didn’t feel put off, simply accepted and understood. She didn’t have to hide things from him. He didn’t have to tiptoe around her. More important, she didn’t have to worry about him finding out. He knew. It was amazing. Suddenly freeing.
They walked into the kitchen to discover that Finley had already opened the bucket of chicken, chosen a leg and was wrestling with the container of coleslaw.
Rory said, “I’ll get that.”
Shannon opened the mashed potatoes and gravy. “And I’ll get this.” She offered the potatoes to Finley. “Would you like some of these?”
“Yes, please.”
They ate dinner having a surprisingly relaxed conversation, considering that Finley had asked the big question that afternoon.
As soon as she was done eating, Finley slid off her chair and tossed her paper plate and plastic fork into the trash. She skipped to the door. “I’m going to get started.”
Rory bounced off his seat. “Not without us!” He headed for the door, then doubled back and tossed his plate and plastic fork into the trash. “If you have any valuable ornaments, I’d eat quickly and get into the living room before she tries to hang them.”
With that he raced away and Shannon chuckled, shaking her head. What she wouldn’t give to have them as her real family.
But she couldn’t. And she did have another night with them. So she rose, tossed her plate and utensils, closed the bucket, put the remaining chicken into the refrigerator and joined them in her living room.
To her relief, she found Rory stringing lights on the tree, as Finley unspooled them.
“That’s going to be pretty.”
Finley beamed. “Yep.”
Heading to the box containing the ornaments her parents had left behind, she said, “I’ll unwrap these and we can get started.”
They worked in silence for the next five minutes while Rory finished the lights and Shannon carefully removed the white tissue paper from the ornaments.
When the lights had been hung on the branches and the star sat at the top of the tree, she said, “Plug them in. We’ll decorate around them.”
Rory plugged in the lights and the tree twinkled and sparkled, causing Finley to gasp.
Shannon said, “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Very pretty.”
Hanging the ornaments wasn’t as simple as stringing the lights. Finley wanted to know the story behind every ornament and if an ornament didn’t have a story, Shannon had to make one up.
It was ten o’clock before they got all the ornaments hung. When it was time to leave, after Finley had had sufficient time to ohhh and ahhh, Rory carried the cocoa tray to Shannon’s kitchen, leaving Finley with the instruction to put on her boots and coat.
Shannon held the kitchen door open for Rory. As they walked into the kitchen “White Christmas” was playing on the stereo.
“Oops.
