The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [83]
The soup and sandwiches disappeared quickly. Three other men helped pack up the leftovers and carted the boxes out to the car.
“You sure we can’t get you anything else?” Greta asked before she headed outside.
“You’ve done more than enough.”
“Thank Mr. Kemper for us,” Len said, ready to escort the older women to their vehicle.
With many shouts of “Merry Christmas,” everyone waved the Auxiliary ladies goodbye.
Len returned, leaning against the door when it closed. Cathy watched as he paused and glanced about the room. “You know,” he said, not speaking to anyone in particular, “I almost feel sorry for all those people who decided to stay in hotels. They’ve missed out on the best Christmas Eve I can ever remember.”
Chapter 7
“Santa Claus Is Coming to Town”
The station seemed unnaturally quiet after the choir and the members of the VFW Women’s Auxiliary had left. The lively chatter and shared laughter that had filled the room died down to a low hum.
Matt knew he should phone home, that he’d delayed it as long as he dared. With the time difference between the east and west coasts, it wasn’t quite four in the afternoon in Los Angeles. The dread that settled over him depleted the sense of well-being he’d experienced over the past few hours.
He didn’t look forward to a telephone confrontation with Pam, but as far as he could see there was no avoiding one. He could almost hear her voice, starting low and quickly gaining volume until it reached a shrill, near-hysterical pitch.
He wished things could be different, but he knew she’d start in on him, and then, despite his best efforts, he’d retaliate. Soon their exchange would escalate into a full-blown fight.
His feet felt weighted as he crossed the station to the row of pay phones. He slipped his credit card through the appropriate slot, punched in his home number and waited for the line to connect.
The phone rang twice, three times, then four before the answering machine came on. Bored, he tapped his foot while he listened to the message he’d recorded earlier in the year. When he heard the signal, he was ready. “Pam, it’s Matt. I’m sorry about this, but I got caught in the snowstorm that struck Maine yesterday. The flights out of Bangor were canceled, so the airline put me on a train for Boston. Now the train tracks are out and I don’t have a clue when I’ll be home. As soon as I reach Boston, probably sometime Christmas morning, I’ll phone and let you know when to expect me. I’m sorry about this, but it’s out of my control. Kiss the kids for me and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
The relief that came over him at not getting caught in a verbal battle with his wife was like an unexpected gift. This wasn’t how it should be, but he felt powerless to change the dynamics of their marriage. Somewhere along the road the partnership they’d once shared had fallen apart. He wasn’t the only one who felt miserable; he knew that. The look in Pam’s eyes as he’d walked through the house, suitcase in hand, had told him he wasn’t the only one thinking about a separation.
His mood was oppressive by the time he returned to his seat.
“What about Santa?” Matt heard Kate ask her mother.
“Honey, he’s still coming to Grandma’s house.” Kate’s mother was busy making up a bed for her daughter. She placed a pillow at one end of the bench and arranged the blanket so the little girl could sleep between its folds.
“But, Mom, I’m not at Grandma Gibson’s house— I’m here. Santa might not know.”
Elise apparently needed a minute to think about that. “Grandma will have to tell him.”
“But what if Santa decides to try to find me here, instead of leaving my presents with Grandma?”
“Kate, please, can’t you just trust that you’re going to get your gifts?”
Arms crossed, the child shook her head stubbornly. “No, I can’t,” she said, her voice as serious as the expression on her face. “You told me Daddy was going to come see me before we left and he didn’t.”
“Honey, I don’t have any control over what your father says and does. I’m