Holiday Confessions. Anne Marie Winston
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“And convenient, too.”
“Convenient?”
“Easy for me to get around independently.”
“Oh, right.” She paused. “I guess I didn’t think about that. You don’t drive, so you have to have at least basic services within walking distance.” She sounded as if she were talking more to herself than him.
“A lot of vision-impaired people live in large urban areas,” he said, “because things are so much more convenient, and there’s public transportation close at hand.”
“Didn’t think about that, either,” she admitted.
“Proximity to the things I need was one of the major attractions about Gettysburg. Main Street has a thriving business area thanks to the college and the tourists, so banking and doctors and dry cleaners are all within walking distance. And there’s a grocery store and a pharmacy, too, and some great restaurants.”
“Do you ever go over to the college?”
He nodded. “A lot of their music and theater performances, as well as the occasional guest lecture are open to the public.”
“Oh, good,” she said, sounding delighted. “I love music.”
“Do you play an instrument?”
“No. I played piano when I was a kid. It’s something I’ve always wanted to take up again.” Her voice sounded wistful.
“Maybe this is your chance,” he said.
“Maybe it is. So what else does one do in Gettysburg?”
“Well,” he said, “I hope you enjoy CivilWar history.”
She laughed. “Guilty. It was one of the things that drew me to the area. I want to learn more about the battlefield and the whole war.”
“I doubt you’ll have any trouble.”
She chuckled. “What else?”
“The usual things,” he said, “with an extra focus on history, perhaps. There’s a Community Concert Association, a library, a humane society, performing groups, a bunch of churches, business and civic organizations, stuff like that. If you want to get involved, I guarantee you’ll be welcomed with open arms.”
“I’ve never done any volunteer work. I wouldn’t know what to do.” Her tone was doubtful.
“You don’t need prior experience.” He felt like a cheerleader, and he wondered why she had so little self-confidence. “If you go to a meeting or two or join a church, it won’t be long before you’re being asked to help with things.”
“That would be nice.” He heard her rise. “Dinner should be about ready. Why don’t we go to the table now?”
Dinner was delicious and the conversation easy and inconsequential. They lingered for more than an hour, sharing coffee and cookies after the meal. Finally, he remembered that he had an extremely early morning the following day. He was just rising when her telephone rang.
“Excuse me.” She stepped away from him and he heard her pick up a handset. “I’d better take this,” she said, apparently having looked at the Caller Identification screen. “Hello?” Her voice sounded cautious and cool and although he knew it was rude to eavesdrop, he could hardly help hearing her side of the conversation.
“Hello, Daddy.” Her voice lilted with a pleasure he would have given a lot to have aimed at him. “How are you?…Yes. Yes. I know I haven’t. Oh.” The lilt flattened with what sounded a lot like disappointment. “…I see. When?…Congratulations. No, I don’t believe I’m going to have the time…. I’d rather you didn’t. No…maybe at Christmas. I’ll have to see if I can get away.” Her voice had taken on a bleak, distant tone. “Well, thank you for calling. I’m entertaining so I can’t chat.”
She concluded the conversation with speed and an affectionate word of farewell that sounded more rote than genuine.
As she set the handset back in the receiver, he hastily reached for another cookie so she wouldn’t think he’d been listening to her conversation. Even if he had.
She returned to her seat silently.
After a moment that seemed to stretch for a long, awkward time, he finally said, “Is something the matter?”
“My father.” She hesitated, then said, “My father’s getting married again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said cautiously. “I take it that’s bad news?”
She drew in a shuddering breath and he realized she was near tears. Somewhere down to his left, Feather whined, and he heard her get to her feet.
A moment later Lynne gave a shaky laugh. “Thanks, girl.” To him she said, “Your dog just gave me a kiss. I think she’s worried about me.”
“She’s not the only one.” Without thinking he reached out and placed his hand over the arm he’d heard her lay on the table, then slipped his palm down until he was covering her hand.
He felt her lay her other hand atop his and gently squeeze, then she slid both hands away. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m all right,” she said quietly. “I should be used to it by now.”
“Used to…your father not being married to your mother anymore?” Maybe her father had had a case of the forty-something itch and had scratched it with a divorce and a younger woman, not necessarily in that order. Lord knew he saw enough of that in his business.
To his surprise, she heaved an unladylike snort. “My parents were divorced when I was two,” she told him. “This lucky lady will be my father’s sixth wife.”
He knew his eyebrows rose, and he couldn’t hide his surprise. “Whoa. That’s…a lot of wives.”
To his relief she laughed. “And that’s the understatement of the decade.” She took a sip of her coffee, and the cup clinked as she set it down. “Sorry to let that intrude into our evening. He always manages to shock me when he tells me about his newest relationship, although I don’t know why.” She cleared her throat. “Feather was very sweet. Has she always reacted to human distress like that?”
He shook his head. “Not in general, although when she senses I’m upset she does the same thing. But as far as I know, you’re the only other person to receive the honor of a sloppy canine kiss.”
“I liked it,” she said. She rose from the table. “Would you like some more cookies to take with you?”
“Maybe just a few,” he said. “I have to confess that the first batch you gave me is gone already.”
“Better you than me,” she said. “I—”
A loud growl interrupted what she’d been about to say.
“Feather!” He looked in the direction of the sound.
“What’s