Chapter 18
December always swept Mandy up in a red and green whirlwind: decorating the tree, bagging merchandise, hearing Christmas music on the radio, trying to make the season last.
This year, the whirlwind spun twice as fast. She battled the clock, trying to finish needlepointing Jake's stocking in time for Christmas without his seeing it. She was pretty sure he'd like it. But handstitched or not, it seemed pretty small compared with a ticket to New York.
It's the thought that counts,
she reminded herself.
Then she bought a chocolate-brown knit pullover, the color of Jake's eyes, to supplement it.
The night before they left, they were about to settle in for a pizza at Mandy's house. Except she couldn't settle anywhere. She tried to run through a mental checklist of everything she didn't want to forget.
“Toothbrush, toothpaste . . .”
Jake grinned as he draped his jacket over the back of the couch. “You do know they have toothpaste in Pennsylvania, right? If you forget something it's not the end of the world.”
“I know. Sorry. I'm just a little nervous.”
“Just make sure you packed a few extra layers,” Jake said. “I checked the weather report. It's cold out there.”
The last phrase echoed in her head. Mandy caught herself humming, “Baby, It's Cold Outside” as she went to double-check her suitcase. These days, everything was a Christmas song cue, and they'd just heard the She and Him version of the song on the CD player in Jake's truck.
The song was still stuck in her head when Jake went into the kitchen to call for pizza.
The CD. She'd left it in the player in Jake's truck. The truck they'd be returning to the rental agency at the airport tomorrow. The way her mind was spinning, she was bound to leave it in there. She'd better grab the disc now before she forgot.
Mandy glanced at the table in the hallway for the keys to the truck. Not there. “Jake?”
“Just a sec,” Jake called from the kitchen. “Their phone's ringing.”
She spotted Jake's coat hanging over the back of the sofa. The keys were probably in there. She turned the coat and reached into one of the pockets. Her fingers brushed over something hard, yet velvety. What could . . . ?
She traced the shape of it in her hand. A small, square, velvet box.
Her heart thrummed. She couldn't think of many things that came in small, square velvet boxes. Mandy tried to temper her racing thoughts with reality.
A necklace,
she told herself.
It could be a necklace. It could even be a necklace for his mother.
It was a pretty small square for that, though.
“Mandy?”
Alarm shot through her. She jerked her hand out of his pocket. But Jake wasn't there, and she realized his voice was still coming from the kitchen. She stepped back, putting as much distance between herself and the coat as she could before she answered. “What?”
“Was it mushrooms or olives you wanted on your half?”
She swallowed. “Mushrooms, please.”
She backed farther away from the coat, feeling her face burn as fiercely as if she'd been caught stealing a fistful of candy from an orphan. In the next room, she heard Jake finish their pizza order.
Act naturally.
Whatever that meant.
Thoughts replayed in her mind:
Christmas at Jake's. Meeting his parents. Flying to New York.
To see that romantic tree.
And suddenly, the only natural thing she could possibly do was plunk down on the couch before her knees buckled. She couldn't keep her heart from pounding, but if she worked at it, maybe she'd be able to breathe normally. If that box was what she thought it was, Jake had one more surprise in store on this trip.
A Christmas proposal. The thought sent a thrill through her. For the second time in her life, she found herself pinching herself on this couch.
A tiny voice inside wondered,
Am I ready for this?
In the next room was a man as rational as she was fanciful. She knew she loved him. She also knew he'd never believe in something as illogical as Santa Claus.
Was this the right thing?
Jake walked in, a wry smile on his face. “You do know that vegetables on pizza are a sin against nature.”
And her heart sang
yes.
“What did you want a minute ago?” he asked.
“Oh.” She closed her eyes and thought. She didn't want to mention anything about car keys or jacket pockets, nothing that would make him suspect she'd found the box. “I forgot.” She opened her eyes. “My mind's a little muddled.”
He sat beside her on the couch, and she resolutely ignored the sleeve of his jacket when it dropped to dangle behind him. “You've never been this far from home, have you?”
“No. And I've never flown before.”
“Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to get used to it. Airports are kind of a separate eternity.” He paused. “One more thing you might want to bring along.”
“What's that?”
“A copy of
War and Peace.
”
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It wasn't until the next morning that Jake remembered the airline regulations about the size of toiletries. That led to a reshuffling of Mandy's luggage in her front entryway in the wee hours of the morning. Sure enough, most of the bottles were full-size, and she'd had them in her carry-on bag.
“But that's the most basic stuff,” she said. “I thought it would be smart to have it in a carry-on.”
“Once upon a time, I'm sure that was true. But they want to make sure terrorists aren't smuggling some sort ofâ”
He saw her pale, and he immediately regretted using the word.
“Hey, relax. It's just a hassle. They do it to make the trip that much safer.” He picked up her newly arranged bag and opened her front door. “And if anything happens to the baggageâ”
He saw her brow crease. He wasn't helping.
“âI happen to know my parents have plenty of shampoo at the house.”
“They do know I'm coming, right?”
She did have a lot of things to be nervous about. He set the bag down, mindful of the ticking minutes and their hour-long drive to the airport. He hadn't missed a flight yet, but this would be a bad time to start. He'd worked it out so they should be able to reach Rockefeller Center by eight or nine p.m. if they had something to eat first; he didn't want them arriving starved, exhausted, or rushed.
Maybe he should have figured in an extra day of travel. Too late now.
He drew a deep breath and took a moment of precious time to put his arms around Mandy. “Yes,” he said. “They do know you're coming, and they'll love you. That's the last thing in the world you need to worry about.”
He kissed her, taking a few more of those precious moments to do it right. It would take a heck of a kiss to drive away worries about formidable parents, plane crashes, lost luggage and terrorists. He did his best.
When they reached the security line, it was Jake's turn to panic. He hadn't thought about the metal detectors and the ring in his coat pocket. There was no way he was trusting that particular item to any piece of luggage, carry-on or not.
People walk through these things with their jewelry all the time,
he reminded himself. Then winced when they made him put his coat on the conveyor belt along with all the other items to be x-rayed.
He watched Mandy walk through ahead of him, grateful that she didn't set the metal detector off. That was the last thing she needed. By the time Jake walked through the device after her, he saw his jacket waiting at the end of the conveyor belt. No beeps, bells or alarms.
When he got to the other side, Jake scooped up his coat, still striving for nonchalance, and gave the pocket a surreptitious squeeze. The hard, square shape assured him that the box was still there.
Thank God they'd stay behind airport security lines from here, and he wouldn't have to do this again on their stopover in Dallas.
As they boarded the plane, Jake's insides were coiled tighter than a spring. Beside him, he could tell Mandy was still nervous too, but she wore it on the inside, nearly as quiet and subdued as she'd been on their first date. Somewhat to his dismay, she seemed to have taken his advice to heart. She hadn't brought
War and Peace,
but she did seem intent on the book she was reading. Although Jake noticed she hadn't turned a page in quite a while.
“What are you reading?”
“The Cricket on the Hearth.
I started it once a couple of years ago, but I didn't finish it.”
One of Dickens's less successful Christmas stories. “I had to read that in high school. I think it was pretty sappy.”
She raised her head from her book and turned to him. “You don't think that about
A Christmas Carol,
do you?”
Her blue eyes were fixed on him as if the answer to that question was very important.
“Of course not,” he was relieved to say truthfully. “Are you kidding? We watchedâwhat, three movie versions of it this month?”
A smile shone from her face, the first real one he'd seen in the past few hours. As if she were glad that was settled.
She returned to her attempts at reading, while Jake wished for his own copy of
War and Peace.
A plane flight really wasn't a place for conversation, anyway. The only talkative people you usually saw on a plane were the ones no one wanted to sit next to.
He noticed she still wasn't turning many pages. He probably wouldn't have been able to concentrate either, whether it was Dickens, Tolstoy, or the latest bestseller. Tonight seemed far away. He didn't have any specific reason to think she'd say no. But he couldn't be sure she'd say yes.
At last they landed in Dallas. Mandy made a beeline for the ladies' room; Jake headed toward the food court, where he could scout out the possibilities for lunch. Belatedly, he took his phone off Airplane mode. His in-box didn't have many e-mailsâafter all, it was three days before Christmasâbut there was a voice mail from the home office.
“Jake? This is Mark. Give me a call.”
That was eerily nonspecific. Jake was tempted not to return the call, but his spider-sense told him he'd better.
He dialed Mark, keeping an eye toward the restrooms. Airports were easy to get lost in.
“Hey, Mark. What's the word?”
“I met with the board. They all agreed that the holiday hotel idea shows a lot of initiative, but it's not a direction they're ready to go yet.”
Jake heard a little more after thatâblah blah, hotel image, blah blah, different business model . . .
He didn't need reasons. He broke in. “And so, the Tall Pine projectâ”
“âis scrapped. I'm sorry, Jake, but your track record speaks for itself. You're too valuable to use in an area that just isn't worth the hassle. I know it's a drag. You tried like hell on this one, but four months is long enough.”
Across the airport lobby, Mandy emerged from the ladies' room. Momentarily disoriented, she turned in the wrong direction, looking for him.
Jake turned his back and found a pillar. It was a bad time to hide from Mandy. But at least it gave him something to lean against.
“Mark, are you serious?” The question was rhetorical, a reflex, like air rushing out of his lungs after a sucker punch.
“Sorry, buddy,” he said. “The good news is, we've got another project lined up for you, and you don't have to start until after the first of the year. No one's going to be doing any business between now and then, anyway.”
“Where is it?”
Somewhere in Southern California, please.
“Pensacola Beach. It's beautiful out there. I envy you, working in Florida in January.”
Florida. With Mandy in California and his family in Pennsylvania. Regal Hotels couldn't have picked a place on the continental U.S. farther from the two places that mattered to him most.
He'd gotten Tall Pine to say yes. He'd been worrying about Mandy's saying yes. Why had it never occurred to him that his own company might say no?
And of course, they were confident Jake would say yes. He'd spent the past five years jumping at a moment's notice, going wherever they sent him, thinking that was the road to success.
Maybe if he really talked to Mark, told him a little about his own plans . . .
But first, he had to hang up and find Mandy before she got lost.
“Jake?” Mark prompted. “Are you still there?”
“I'm at the airport now, Mark. I've got to run.”
“That's right, you're heading home for the holidays, aren't you?” Mark couldn't have sounded more cheery.
“Yep. I'll talk to you later.” Jake hung up.
He pocketed the phone and felt it thunk against the red velvet box. His heart sank. A ring in his pocket and no clear plan for the future. With Mark's piece of news, as of this moment, he wasn't even sure he was going to stay with Regal Hotels.
He stepped from behind the pillar, searching the crowd for Mandy. The first time he'd been to this airport he'd spent forever going in circles, trying to find his way out of the terminal for the wrong airline.
Usually, Mandy's red jacket would have been easy to spot. Now, three days before Christmas, the terminal was a veritable sea of festively dressed travelers in bright red and green. It could be like a needle in a haystack.
Then his eyes found her as surely as if a spotlight had been aimed at herâbeautiful dark hair tumbling over the red wool on her shoulders, her gaze roaming slowly around her as she walked toward the food court.