Maria unplugged the lights on the Christmas tree and
finished stuffing the left over wrapping into the trash
bag.
Christmas. Watching Abby that morning, she hadn’t been able to
help remembering her own childhood. The torture of their parents making
them take turns opening each gift so that a picture could be taken of
every ‘opening reaction’, pulling their stockings down from the mantle and
dumping the contents onto the floor to sort through what they’d received,
then not being able to decide what to play with first. Of course, after
the presents there was always a big Christmas breakfast, and then later an
even bigger Christmas dinner…
Kyle and Abby were gone. Vickie’s
parents had picked them up right after they’d finished opening presents.
She understood that Kyle felt it was important that Abby stay close to the
other side of her family, even if her mother wasn’t around…she just hated
being away from them on this of all days. Still, she shouldn’t complain.
This Christmas beat last year by a mile. Maria wished she could banish the
memory of hauling Abby and her scant number of presents up to Kyle’s
hospital room so that he could see her open them…that had been dismal and
heartbreaking.
The phone rang after she got out of the shower and
she glanced at the clock, it was a little after
noon.
“Hello?”
“Maria!”
“Liz! Merry Christmas,” Maria
couldn’t help but smile.
“Merry Christmas! Was Abby excited about
the doll?”
“Yeah, she loved it. She took it with her,” Maria
smiled, Liz had gone Christmas shopping with her the previous Sunday.
She’d actually gone a little overboard – with Kyle’s
encouragement.
“Oh, I’m so glad. We’re just about to eat, so I’ve
only got a second…Now, don’t get mad…”
“Don’t get mad?”
“Max
called me last night, and he’d like me to be at the wedding early for
pictures.”
“Really? Wow, isn’t it a little soon for that? I
mean…”
“Oh, no, he just wants me to be there. He doesn’t
want me to be in them,” Liz giggled nervously.
“Ok. Well, that
makes a little more sense then. So, we’ll be leaving earlier,
then?”
“Um, that’s the thing…I’m leaving right after I
eat.”
“Oh, no…I just got out of the shower, I won’t be ready
for-.”
“No, it’s ok, Maria. I didn’t mean for you to come with me.
I’m just going to have your date meet you in front of the
diner.”
“In front of the diner?”
“Yeah…So, be there at 5.
Talk to you later!”
“No! Wait, Liz – how will I even know who he
is?”
“Well, I’m sure he’s the only person you’ll see who’s dressed
to go to a wedding. My dad’s carving the turkey – gotta’ go!”
“No!
Liz-,” Maria hung up the phone when she heard the click. She didn’t even
know this guys name, or what he looked like…Of course that was because she
wouldn’t let Liz tell her. This was irritating, though. Not only did she
have to go alone, she had to meet the guy in front of the diner? That made
no sense. Couldn’t he just pick her up? She walked back into the bathroom
to finish drying her
hair.
***
“Yeah?”
“Michael?”
“Do you expect
someone else to answer my phone, Max?”
“Ok, listen, Liz can’t give
her friend a ride. She’s going to meet you at your place.”
“Liz
is?”
“No, the friend is.”
“Ok…” Michael furrowed his brow
and turned his attention back to the game on the television, then started
listening closely again when he heard Max’s muffled whispering on the
other end of the phone. “Who are you talking to, Maxwell?”
“Oh, uh,
Liz – talking to Liz. I guess she’s meeting you in front of the diner. At
five o’clock. On the dot.”
“That makes no sense. Why not have her
come over here?”
“Uh, Liz says she only knows where the diner
is.”
“Is she too stupid to find her way across the
street?”
“Well, I think Liz forgot that you live across the
street.”
“Forgot? She delivers food over here all of the
time-.”
“Hey – sorry, Michael, gotta’ go. They’re starting to take
pictures. Bye!”
Michael clicked off the phone and tossed it down on
the couch next to him. When the game went on commercial he ran upstairs to
shower. His watch read 4:15.
***
Carefully, Maria rubbed the
gloss over the lipstick and then smacked her lips into the mirror. Yes,
that looked good. She gave her hair a few more pats, then stuffed her
make-up essentials into the tiny evening bag she was using. The long dress
Liz had loaned her was a little simple for her taste, but it was nice. It
was a very deep red, almost black, it wasn’t a color that she normally
wore, and she felt a little out of place in it, but it hung nicely from
tiny spaghetti straps and was form fitting so at least it didn’t look
‘borrowed’. Her hair was down, worn in very loose curls around her face.
Taking one last glance in the mirror, she sighed, then walked quickly to
the door.
Her mother’s long black wool dress coat was the only
thing she had that was remotely appropriate for the occasion. She was glad
she’d kept it. Pulling the collar up slightly, she caught a faint whisper
of her mother’s smell in the fabric. Tears sprang instantly to her eyes,
and she buried her nose into the black wool but never caught the scent
again. Maybe it had been her imagination. She’d been rather nostalgic all
day.
The air was cold, and the walk to the diner felt longer than
usual. Probably because she was wearing heels, she couldn’t remember the
last time she’d worn anything other than sneakers or sandals. Her feet
were beginning to ache by the time she got to the diner. It was dark
inside, Murray always closed for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Turning, she inspected her reflection in the glass, it was almost dark,
but she could still see well enough.
As she was tucking one last
strand of hair behind her ear, she caught his reflection and watched him
walk out of his building. She was almost sure he’d been wearing a
suit, but her back was to him, and she was afraid it would be too
obvious if she turned around to make sure.
As he walked to his car
and put what looked like a long coat in the back seat, she prayed he
wouldn’t notice her. She’d never seen him dressed up before. Must be for
Christmas. Or, maybe…
Was he going to the wedding too? Well, he was
a friend of Max’s, it would make sense…A wave of dread washed over her.
Now he’d know she was out on a blind date. What if he said something to
the guy she was with? Oh no…
She was so lost in her own thoughts,
and didn’t notice his reflection in the glass as he crossed the street,
walking toward her.
The sound of him clearing his throat made her
jump, and she whirled around to face him. His eyes grew wide, and then
narrowed. He was wearing a black suit with a dark gray colored shirt and a
solid tie in an even darker shade of gray, his usually mussed hair was
slicked back - though not severely, it was still very ‘him’. Michael
looked like he’d just walked off the cover of a magazine.
She
gulped and tried to remember her name.
***
He saw the woman
peering into the diner the minute he walked out of his door. She was
wearing a long dress coat, and he knew it had to be her. It made sense
that she was a blonde, Max knew that was normally his preference. This
‘blind date’ was not something he was looking forward to. Earlier he’d
decided that he’d give the girl two minutes to impress him, and if she
didn’t, he’d just take her home and say he had a headache. There was no
way he was going to let her embarrass him if she was ditzy, or a
chatterbox, or stupid. Maybe he should just walk over and tell her he had
a headache right away…
Walking to his car, he kept a close eye on
her, watching for anything odd. He opened the back door and laid his coat
out across the seats, then closed it and started walking toward her. Her
back was completely turned to him, and he had no hint of what she looked
like. Well, he could be reasonably sure that she was a looker – Max wasn’t
stupid.
Stopping behind her, he cleared his throat. She jumped
slightly and turned to face him.
He couldn’t believe it. It was
her. So, this was their little game. She seemed nervous. Had
she set this whole thing up?
“It’s you,” he
stated.
She stared at him, looking confused, then looked slightly
irritated, “Yeah…”
“Well, don’t just stand there,” he turned to
leave, expecting her to follow him.
“Excuse me?” her voice sounded
from behind him.
He turned back to face her, “What?”
She was
shaking her head in small jerking notions, and a look of disbelief seemed
to have passed over her face, “Oh no. Y-your’re not…No, no, no. It isn’t
you, is it?”
So, she was in the dark too. He nodded, “Yeah, it’s
me. They think they’re cute. Come on, let’s get going.”
He started
to walk again.
“Wait. I don’t-,” she paused when he turned sharply
to face her again. “We don’t have to do this, I mean obviously,” she
blushed and looked at the ground, “well, they don’t know…I-I’m just going
to go home.”
She started to walk past him, and he quickly put
himself in her path, “You’re not going home.”
Her eyes
narrowed, “I think I’ll decide if I’m going home or not.”
As
she started to move again, he grabbed her arm and looked down at her, then
softly said, “ Don’t.”
He watched carefully as her eyes
closed, her lids drifting down over the flashing green, lashes resting
lightly on her cheeks. When she opened them again, he saw her give
in.
“All right.”
Relief. He quickly turned and walked to the
car, hearing her following close behind. So much for the headache
idea.
***
She climbed awkwardly into his SUV, trying not to
look at him. It had never occurred to her that it would be him. Why would
it? She glanced over at him, then immediately looked away remembering her
resolve not to look. Looking was dangerous. He looked too good for
looking.
“Put on your seatbelt,” he ordered her.
Startled,
she looked over at him. He was looking at her. Reaching her hand up behind
her she grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it across her body and shoved it
into the buckle. Oh, this was a bad idea. She definitely should
have gone home. Her anger was starting to bubble over.
“Listen, Mr.
‘I’m famous, obey me’, I’m the one doing the favor here, so-.”
“Who
said I was famous?”
“I-I guess I did,” she stammered, not really
knowing how to answer.
“I’m not famous.”
“Whatever,”
she rolled her eyes, wishing he hadn’t already pulled away from the
curb.
“ What did I do to you?” he scrunched his face up in
anger as he stared straight ahead.
She looked over at him… hmm,
let’s see…
“Can’t even remember when he goes slumming,” she
whispered sharply under her breath while she looked out the
window.
“ Slumming?” he pulled the car over to the side of
the street and turned to glare at her.
“Yeah. I mean, that’s what
you rich types call it, right?”
“ You don’t know what you’re
talking about,” he said dangerously.
“Don’t I? So, I guess you
don’t go around pretending to be a normal person and making people
think-,” she stopped herself and tried hard to find something outside her
window to concentrate on.
“Pretending to be normal? I am
normal. And, I don’t know what you expect me to do-.”
“Maybe give
somebody a hint about who you are-.”
“What do you want me to
do, wear a sign?!?!”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, wishing he
hadn’t made her feel completely stupid. Did she expect him to wear
a sign? It wasn’t like she walked up to people and announced that she was
a waitress…
“Is that why you’ve been acting like this? Did someone
say something about me?” his voice was considerably calmer, and she
glanced at him and saw that he was tensely gripping the steering
wheel.
“No. I saw an article…there was a concert…” she wished she
could keep her mouth shut. Everything she said was making her sound so
stupid.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he pulled
back out into traffic, “So, you were mad because I was in a
magazine.”
How was he able to make it seem so dumb? It wasn’t dumb.
He’d used her. Well, maybe she’d gone there that night looking for
something…and, maybe she had wanted it as much as he did…but he didn’t
have a right to withhold information - information that would have stopped
her from-…from what? Sleeping with him? Falling for him? She didn’t
want to think about it.
Glancing at him, she was surprised to see
an amused smirk on his face. So, he was laughing at her. Wonderful. She
wasn’t going to spend the rest of the night under his thumb.
“So,
your ex is getting married, huh?”
There – that had wiped that
stupid look off his face. His jaw was clenched and a muscle in his cheek
twitched. She’d gotten to him. When he didn’t answer after a few seconds,
she opened her mouth again, “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I asked you a
question-.”
“I heard you.”
“Oh?”
“Well, obviously
she’s getting married. That’s where we’re going, isn’t it?” there was more
bitterness than anger in his tone. If he was that upset by it, why was he
going?
His fingers were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that
his knuckles were white, and his shoulders had hunched forward slightly.
She was sorry she’d ever said anything, even if he did deserve
it.
***
He didn’t understand her. She was impossible to
read. Just when he thought he was sure what was going on in her head, she
blindsided him.
They rode the last forty-five minutes of the drive
in silence. Pulling to an abrupt stop in front of the hotel, Michael
hopped out of his side and handed the keys to the valet, with a twenty.
Then immediately went to the back of the car to retrieve his wedding
gift.
She watched curiously as he pulled the wrapped painting out
and then walked in the front doors. Sensing that she wasn’t following, he
turned around to look at her and beckoned her with a jerk of his head.
Frowning slightly, she moved to his side.
There was a sign pointing
toward the ballroom, that read, ‘Evans/Whitman Wedding’. He followed it
down the hall and on his way into the ballroom he ran into Diane
Evans.
“Oh, Michael!”
“Hi.”
She leaned up to give him
a hug and a kiss on the cheek, her smile was sincere, “I’m so glad you’re
here.”
“Yeah…” he said, trying to give her a smile but failing
dismally.
“And, who do we have here?” Diane smiled looking at
Maria.
“Oh, uh…”
Maria stepped forward and offered her hand
with a smile, “Maria Valenti.”
“Diane Evans, Maria,” Diane took her
hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m a friend of Max’s. He’s a wonderful
man, you must be so proud,” Maria said.
“Oh, thank you, what a
lovely thing to say,” Diane’s smile grew wider.
Michael watched
their exchange. He’d never seen Maria that friendly. Well, she was
friendly with customers…other customers. She looked perfectly at ease
chatting with Diane. It surprised him.
“Uh, Diane, where do I put
the gift?”
“Oh, well, I’d have to check with the wedding
coordinator, but,” she paused and looked at the gift in his hands, “is
that one of yours?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged.
“I don’t think we
should put that with the other gifts, I mean, my goodness,” Diane glanced
around the empty hall as though looking for help. “Maybe you should put it
in one of our rooms, it’s just much to valuable to be left out.”
“I
don’t think-,” he started to shake his head.
“No, no. Listen, could
you go store it in our room? It’s number 1215. Max is up there, all the
groomsmen are using it as headquarters. I’d just feel much better if I
knew it was safe.”
“All right,” he said.
“I’m so happy to
have met you, Maria,” Diane said with a smile and a sly wink in his
direction as she moved in the door.
“You too,” Maria
said.
“Well, come on,” he said as he set off toward the elevators
at the end of the hall.
“So, when exactly does the wedding start?”
she asked as she followed him.
“At 7.”
“That’s not for
another hour. Why are we so early?”
“I don’t know, Max said I
should come early,” he said as they stepped into the elevator and he
pushed the button for the 12th floor.
“Ok…” she said.
The
elevator stopped and as they stepped out she started to unbutton her
coat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking down at
her.
“I’m hot,” she said, pausing with her fingers on a button to
look up at him.
He knocked on the door at 1215 and had to wait
nearly a minute for someone to answer. It was Max.
“Oh, thank God
you’re here,” he said pulling Michael in the door and giving Maria a brief
smile.
“Uh, yeah, Maxwell. You think you’re so-,” Michael
started.
Max cut him off with a jerk of his hand, and whispered,
“Later. I need your help.”
Setting the painting down against the
sofa in the sitting room of the suite, he tried not to look irritated. Max
owed him an explanation about his date.
“What do you need my help
for?”
“Look, I can’t talk here,” Max glanced around nervously, then
grabbed his arm, pulling him to the door, “come on.”
Michael
glanced at Maria who had just taken off her coat and stopped dead in his
tracks, holding Max with him. She looked stunning. He’d never
imagined…Well, maybe he had imagined – while he was
painting-.
“Michael?” Max’s voice was urgent.
“Huh…?” he
replied, not taking his eyes from her. She was moving toward them, ready
to follow. The red dress clung to her tiny body as she moved, and her hair
was falling free around her face. He just realized that she was wearing it
down. This was the only time he’d seen it that way, since-.
Max put
his hand out toward her in a stopping motion, and she paused, looking
startled.
“Oh, uh, Maria…actually, do you think you could just hang
out here for a few minutes? Make yourself at home. There’s some food on
that table over there,” Max pointed into the corner as he dragged Michael
out of the room.