50 Harbor Street - Debbie Macomber [49]
“Not very. I had a late lunch.”
They continued walking, and Linnette had to admit that Cal was an attractive man. She liked the way his Stetson shaded his face, giving him a mysterious look. He wore a sheepskin coat and leather gloves, and he reminded her of a young Clint Eastwood, back in his spaghetti western days.
“Let’s…j-just walk,” he suggested.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Cal tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and they ambled down Harbor Street. Linnette thought the traffic—both vehicle and foot traffic—was particularly heavy for a Saturday night, but didn’t comment. Several other observations occurred to her, but she resisted mentioning them, fearing Cal would feel obliged to respond. Conversation often seemed awkward for him. After a few minutes, she came to enjoy the companionable silence.
Then suddenly it was impossible to remain silent. “It’s snowing!” she cried when a fat, moist snowflake fell on her nose, surprising her. “Cal, look! It’s actually snowing.”
He laughed at her obvious delight. “I see.”
“We never get snow….” In the light of the street lamps, Linnette saw his face break into a broad smile. “I mean, we get snow, but it’s so rare, especially this close to the waterfront.”
“Christmas,” he added.
“Oh, I agree. It’s absolutely perfect that it’s December and Christmas is only about two weeks away.”
They followed the sidewalk past the waterfront park and the marina and rounded the curve toward the clinic and City Hall. By that time, the snow was coming down fast and furious.
Fascinated as she was by the snow, Linnette didn’t immediately notice that all the traffic was going in the same direction they were. Everyone, it seemed, was headed toward a group of carolers who lined the steps of the City Hall building. They were dressed in Victorian costume for a Dickensian Christmas, their songbooks held open. They began with “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” and followed that with “Deck the Halls.”
Caught up in the sheer wonder and joy of the season, Linnette could only listen raptly. She counted three-or possibly four-part harmony. The performance was lovely in every way. The carolers in their costumes, the large decorated tree, the snow—it was about as idyllic a Christmas scene as Linnette could have imagined.
She watched the performance with Cal standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, and she realized his body was blocking the wind. Once again she wished he wasn’t so thoughtful.
Afterward, when the carolers had finished, and the Christmas tree was lit to an enthusiastic burst of applause, Cal suggested a cup of hot cocoa at the Potbelly Deli. Chilled to the bone, Linnette readily agreed. They were fortunate to find a table by the big potbellied stove in the middle of the restaurant. The heat radiating from it soon warmed her. She recognized several people and they exchanged smiles.
The hot chocolate was delicious and served with a candy cane, in honor of the season. She and Cal shared a plate of shortbread cookies cut in Christmas shapes—trees and bells and snowmen. Then Linnette bundled herself up again and they walked toward her apartment. Once more, Cal tucked her arm in his elbow. This was the time to tell him it was over, but she couldn’t make herself do it, knowing her announcement would destroy the festive mood.
“That was just wonderful,” she said, her steps easily keeping pace with his.
“Yes,” he murmured.
“So Christmassy.” She hadn’t felt much Christmas spirit yet. She blamed Chad for her lack of holiday cheer; she’d assumed that once they were working at the same place, they’d be spending a lot of time together. But that hadn’t turned out to be true; they saw each other only in passing and hardly ever had a chance to talk. She wondered darkly if he’d planned it that way.
As they neared her apartment complex, Linnette tried to decide whether it would be a good idea to invite Cal inside. Not to offer might be rude. On the other hand, if he accepted, he might want to kiss her and she couldn’t let that happen.
As she knew he would,