Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [12]
The rider turned off the engine, climbed off the bike and removed his black bubblelike helmet. He was an unpleasant-looking fellow, Emily thought. His hair was long and tied at the base of his neck in a ponytail, which he’d flipped over his shoulder. He was dressed completely in black leather, much of his face covered with a thick beard.
A second rider, also dressed in black leather, slipped off the bike and removed a helmet. Emily blinked, certain she must be seeing things. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the second person was her own daughter. But that wasn’t possible. Was it?
Heather’s twin placed her hand on the man’s forearm, said something Emily couldn’t hear and then headed into Starbucks alone. The Harley man stayed outside, guarding his bike.
Once the door opened and the girl walked inside, it was all too obvious that she was indeed Heather.
Aghast, Emily stood, nearly tipping over her coffee. “Heather?”
“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” her daughter demanded.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Emily mumbled sarcastically.
Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Frankly, Mother, it’s not good to see you.”
Emily swallowed a gasp. In her wildest imaginings, she’d never dreamed her daughter would say such a thing to her. Without being aware of it, Emily sank back into her chair.
Heather pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.
“Who’s your…friend?” Emily asked, nodding toward the window.
“That’s Elijah,” Heather responded, defiance in every word.
“He doesn’t have a last name?”
“No, just Elijah.”
Emily sighed. “I see.”
“I don’t think you do,” Heather said pointedly. “You should’ve told me you were coming to Boston.”
“I tried,” Emily burst out. “I talked to Tracy five times and left that many messages. Tracy said she’d let you know I’d phoned.”
“She did….”
“Then why didn’t you return my calls?”
Heather dropped her gaze. “Because I was afraid you were going to send me on a guilt trip and I didn’t want to deal with it.”
“Send you on a guilt trip?”
“You do that, you know? Make me feel guilty.”
Despite her irritation, Emily did her best to remain calm. Now she understood why her daughter had insisted they meet at the coffee shop. She didn’t want Emily to make a scene, which she admitted she was close to doing.
“I left five messages,” Emily reminded her.
“I know—but I’ve been staying with friends and didn’t realize you’d phoned until Tracy got in touch with me.”
Staying with friends? Yeah, right. Emily’s gaze flew out the window. Her daughter and that…that Neanderthal?
“I love him,” Heather said boldly.
Emily managed to stay seated. “If that’s the case, why don’t you bring him inside so we can meet?”
“Because…” Heather hesitated and then squared her shoulders as if gathering her courage. “I didn’t want him to hear what you’re planning to say.”
“About what?” This made no sense whatsoever.
“None of that matters. I’m leaving town with Elijah. In other words, I won’t be in Boston over the holidays.”
Emily shook her head slightly, wondering if she’d heard correctly. “I beg your pardon?”
“Elijah and I and a couple of other friends are riding down to Florida.”
“For Christmas?” Emily knew something was wrong with her hearing now. There simply had to be. “On motorcycles?”
“Yes, for Christmas. And yes, on motorcycles. We’re sick of this weather and want to spend our holiday on the beach.”
Emily was completely speechless.
“You don’t have anything to say?” Heather asked angrily. “I figured you’d have lots of opinions to share.”
Emily’s mouth opened and closed twice while she gathered her thoughts. “I traded homes with a stranger, traveled across the country and now you’re telling me you won’t be here for Christmas?” Her voice rose on the last word.
Heather’s eyes flashed.