Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [61]
“It’s good to see you again,” Emily said, smiling at Ben.
The college student grinned, and answered Heather’s unspoken question. “Your mother and Ray bought a Christmas tree from me a few days ago.”
“Oh.”
“When did you two…” Emily began, but wasn’t sure how to phrase what she wanted to ask.
“When I left last night, I was pretty upset,” Heather confessed, reaching for her water glass. She didn’t drink from it but held on to it tightly. “I don’t really know why I took off the way I did.” She turned to Ray’s mother. “I guess I didn’t expect to find my mother with a man, you know?”
“Rayburn isn’t just a regular run-of-the-mill man,” Bernice said with more than a trace of indignation.
“I know—well, at first I didn’t, but I’m over that now.” Heather drew in a deep breath. “When I left the condo, I wasn’t sure where to go or what to do, so I started walking and—”
“I saw her,” Ben interrupted, “kind of wandering aimlessly down the street.”
“You were still at the Christmas-tree lot?” Ray asked.
Ben nodded. “For those last-minute shoppers. Technically I should’ve closed about an hour earlier, but I didn’t have anywhere to be, so I stuck around.”
“It was a good thing, too,” Heather said, her eyes brimming with gratitude. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without Ben.”
“I closed down the lot, and then Heather and I found somewhere to have coffee and we talked.”
“Ben told me just what I needed to hear. He said I was being ridiculous and that my mother was entitled to her own life.”
The waiter appeared then, and handed everyone elegant menus. Heather paused until he’d finished.
“It’s just that I never thought my mother would ever be interested in a man other than my father,” she continued in a low voice as Bernice perused the wine list. “I was…shocked, you know?”
Beneath the table, Ray took Emily’s hand and they entwined their fingers. “You are interested in Ray, aren’t you?” Heather asked her mother.
The entire room seemed to go silent, as though everyone was waiting for Emily’s reply. “Well…”
Mrs. Brewster leaned closer. So did Ray.
“I—I guess you could s-say I’m interested,” she stammered. Now that the words were out, she suddenly felt more confident. “As a matter of fact, yes, I am. Definitely. Yes.”
Mrs. Brewster released a long sigh. “Is it too early to discuss the wedding?”
“Yes.” Ray and Emily spoke simultaneously and then both smothered their laughter.
“We’ve just met,” Ray reminded everyone. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”
“But you are smitten, aren’t you?” Ray’s mother asked with such eagerness that Emily couldn’t disappoint her.
“Very much,” she said, smiling at the old-fashioned word.
“And Rayburn?”
“I’m smitten, too.”
“Good.” Mrs. Brewster turned to Heather next. “I think a pale green and the lightest of pinks for the wedding colors, don’t you agree?”
Heather nodded. “Perfect.”
“May or June?”
Heather sneaked a look at her mother and winked. “June.”
Ray brought his head closer to Emily’s and spoke behind the menu. “They’re deciding our future. Do you object?”
Emily grinned, and a warm, happy feeling flowed through her. “Not especially. What about you?”
Ray grinned back. “I’ve always been fond of June.”
“Me, too.”
“My mother will drive us both crazy,” he warned.
“I like her,” Emily whispered. “I even like FiFi.”
Ray studied Bernice and then sighed. “Mother is a sweetheart—despite everything.”
The waiter approached the table. “Merry Christmas,” he said formally, standing straight and tall, as if it was his distinct pleasure to serve them on this very special day of the year.
“May I offer you a drink to start off with?”
“Champagne!” Bernice called out. “Champagne all round.”
“Champagne,” the others echoed.
“We have a lot to celebrate,” Bernice pronounced. “Christmas, a homecoming—and a wedding.”
EPILOGUE
“This is so festive, isn’t it?” Faith had seen pictures of Rockefeller Center, but that didn’t compare to actually standing here,