Chapter 17
Seventeen
Thankfully, Wynn rescued poor Freddy, who was discovered shivering in a corner of the porch. The girls were relieved to have
their hamster back, and neither mentioned the close call Freddy had encountered with certain death. After calming the twins,
it took K.O. and Wynn an hour to clean up the living room. By then, they were both cranky and tired.
Saturday morning, Zoe and Zara decided on wieners for breakfast. Knowing Wynn would approve, K.O. cooked the hot dogs he’d
purchased the night before. However, the unaccustomed meat didn’t settle well in Zoe’s tummy and she threw up on her breakfast
plate. Zara insisted that all she wanted was orange juice poured over dry cereal. So that was what she got.
For the rest of the morning, Wynn remained pensive and remote.
He helped her with the children but didn’t want to talk.
In fact, he seemed more than eager to get back to Blossom Street.
When Zelda and Zach showed up that afternoon, he couldn’t quite hide his relief.
The twins hugged K.O. goodbye and Wynn, too.
While Wynn loaded the car, K.O. talked to Zelda about holiday plans. Zelda asked her to join the family for Christmas Eve
dinner and church, but not Christmas Day, which they’d be spending with Zach’s parents. K.O. didn’t mind. She’d invite LaVonne
to dinner at her place. Maybe she’d include Wynn and his father, too, despite the disastrous conclusion of the last social
event she’d hosted for this same group. Still, when she had the chance, she’d discuss it with Wynn.
On the drive home, Wynn seemed especially quiet.
“The girls are a handful, aren’t they?” she asked, hoping to start a conversation.
He nodded.
She smiled to herself, remembering Wynn’s expression when Zoe announced that their hamster had escaped. Despite his reproachful
silence, she laughed. “I promise not to mention that rare African brown-tailed mouse again, but I have to tell LaVonne.”
“I never said it was rare.”
“Oh, sorry, I thought you had.” One look told her Wynn wasn’t amused. “Come on, Wynn,” she said, as they merged with the freeway
traffic. “You have to admit it was a little ridiculous.”
He didn’t appear to be in the mood to admit anything. “Are you happy?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You proved your point, didn’t you?”
So that was the problem. “If you’re referring to how the girls behaved then, yes, I suppose I did.”
“You claimed that after your sister read my book, they changed into undisciplined hellions.”
“Well . . .” Wasn’t it obvious? “They’re twins,” she said, trying to sound conciliatory, “and as such they’ve always needed a lot of attention.
Some of what happened on Friday evening might have happened without the influence of your child-rearing theories.
Freddy would’ve escaped whether Zelda read your book or not. ”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Frankly, rushing to the store to buy hot dogs because that’s what the girls wanted for dinner
is over the top, in my opinion. I feel it teaches them to expect that their every whim must be met.”
“I beg to differ. My getting the dinner they wanted showed them that I cared about their likes and dislikes.”
“Two hours of sitting on the floor playing Old Maid said the same thing,” she inserted.
“I let you put them to bed even though they clearly weren’t ready for sleep.”
“I beg to differ,” she said, a bit more forcefully than she’d intended. “Zoe and Zara were both yawning when they came out
of the bath. I asked them if they wanted to go to bed.”
“What you asked,” he said stiffly, “was if they were ready for bed.”
“And the difference is?”
“Two hours of storytime while they wore us both out.”
“What would you have done?” she asked.
His gaze didn’t waver from the road. “I would’ve allowed them to play quietly in their room until they’d tired themselves
out.”
Quietly? He had to be joking. Wynn seemed to have conveniently forgotten that during the short time they were on their own, Zoe and Zara had gotten into his overnight bag.
Thanks to their creative use of his personal things, the goldfish now had a bluish tint.
The two Yorkies were nearly hairless. She could argue that because the girls considered themselves free, they didn’t see anything wrong with opening his bag.
The lack of boundaries created confusion and misunderstanding.
“Twins are not the norm,” he challenged. “They encourage ill behavior in each other.”
“However, before Zelda read your book, they were reasonably well-behaved children.”
“Is that a fact?” He sounded as though he didn’t believe her.
“Yes,” she said swiftly. “Zoe and Zara were happy and respectful and kind. Some would even go so far as to say they were well-adjusted.
Now they constantly demand their own way. They’re unreasonable, selfish and difficult.” She was only getting started and dragged
in another breath. “Furthermore, it used to be a joy to spend time with them and now it’s a chore. And if you must know, I
blame you and that blasted book of yours.” There, she’d said it.
A stark silence followed.
“You don’t mince words, do you?”
“No . . .”
“I respect that. I wholeheartedly disagree, but I respect your right to state your opinion.”
The tension in the car had just increased by about a thousand degrees.
“After this weekend, you still disagree?” She was astonished he’d actually said that, but then she supposed his ego was on
the line.
“I’m not interested in arguing with you, Katherine.”
She didn’t want to argue with him, either. Still, she’d hoped the twins would convince him that while his theories might look
good on paper, in reality they didn’t work.
After Wynn exited the freeway, it was only a few short blocks to Blossom Street and the parking garage beneath their building. Wynn pulled into his assigned slot and turned off the engine.
Neither moved.
K.O. feared that the minute she opened the car door, it would be over, and she didn’t want their relationship to end, not
like this. Not now, with Christmas only nine days away.
She tried again. “I know we don’t see eye to eye on everything—”
“No, we don’t,” he interrupted. “In many cases, it doesn’t matter, but when it comes to my work, my livelihood, it does. Not
only do you not accept my theories, you think they’re ludicrous.”
She opened her mouth to defend herself, then realized he was right. That was exactly what she thought.
“You’ve seen evidence that appears to contradict them and, therefore, you discount the years of research I’ve done in my field.
The fact is, you don’t respect my work.”
Feeling wretched, she hung her head.
“I expected there to be areas in which we disagree, Katherine, but this is more than I can deal with. I’m sorry, but I think
it would be best if we didn’t see each other again.”
If that was truly how he felt, then there was nothing left to say.
“I appreciate that you’ve been honest with me,” he continued. “I’m sorry, Katherine—I know we both would’ve liked this to
work, but we have too many differences.”
She made an effort to smile. If she thought arguing with him would do any good, she would have. But the hard set of his jaw told her no amount of reasoning would reach him now. “Thank you for everything. Really, I mean that. You’ve made this Christmas the best.”
He gave her a sad smile.
“Would it be all right—would you mind if I gave you a hug?” she asked. “To say goodbye?”
He stared at her for the longest moment, then slowly shook his head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he whispered, opening
the car door.
By the time K.O. was out of the vehicle, he’d already retrieved her overnight bag from the trunk.
She waited, but it soon became apparent that he had no intention of taking the elevator with her. It seemed he’d had about
as much of her company as he could stand.
She stepped into the elevator with her bag and turned around. Before the doors closed, she saw Wynn leaning against the side
of his car with his head down, looking dejected. K.O. understood the feeling.
It had been such a promising relationship. She’d never felt this drawn to a man, this attracted. If only she’d been able to
keep her mouth shut—but, oh, no, not her. She’d wanted to prove her point, show him the error of his ways. She still believed
he was wrong—well, mostly wrong—but now she felt petty and mean.
When the elevator stopped at the first floor, the doors slid open and K.O. got out. The first thing she did was collect her
mail and her newspapers. She eyed the elevator, wondering if she’d ever see Wynn again, other than merely in passing, which
would be painfully unavoidable.
After unpacking her overnight case and sorting through the mail, none of which interested her, she walked across the hall,
hoping to talk to LaVonne.
Even after several long rings, LaVonne didn’t answer her door. Perhaps she was doing errands.
Just as K.O. was about to walk away, her neighbor opened the door just a crack and peered out.
“LaVonne, it’s me.”
“Oh, hi,” she said.
“Can I come in?” K.O. asked, wondering why LaVonne didn’t immediately invite her inside. She’d never hesitated to ask her
in before.
“Ah . . . now isn’t really a good time.”
“Oh.” That was puzzling.
“How about tomorrow?” LaVonne suggested.
“Sure.” K.O. nodded. “Is Tom back?” she asked.
“Tom?”
“Your cat.”
“Oh, oh . . . that Tom. Yes, he came home this morning.”
K.O. was pleased to hear that. She dredged up a smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Tomorrow.”
K.O. started across the hall, then abruptly turned back. “You might care to know that the Raisin Bran got it all wrong.”
“I beg your pardon?” LaVonne asked, narrowing her gaze.
“I think you might’ve read the kitty litter wrong, too. But then again, that particular box accurately describes my love life.”
LaVonne opened the door a fraction of an inch wider. “Do you mean to tell me you’re no longer seeing Wynn?”
K.O. nodded. “Apparently we were both wrong in thinking Wynn was the man for me.”
“He is,” LaVonne said confidently.
K.O. sighed. “I wish he was. I genuinely like Wynn. When I first discovered he was the author of that loony book my sister read . . .” Realizing what she’d just said, K.O. began again. “When I discovered he wrote the book she’d read, I had my doubts.”
“It is a loony book,” LaVonne said.
“I should never have told him how I felt.”
“You were honest.”
“Yes, but I was rude and hurtful, too.” She shook her head mournfully. “We disagree on just about every aspect of child-rearing.
He doesn’t want to see me again and I don’t blame him.”
LaVonne stared at her for an intense moment. “You’re falling in love with him.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, hoping to make light of her feelings, but her neighbor was right. K.O. had known it the minute Wynn
dived under the Christmas tree to save her from the not-so-rare African brown-tailed mouse. The minute he’d waved down the
horse-drawn carriage and covered her knees with a lap robe and slipped his arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t try to deny it,” LaVonne said. “I don’t really know what I saw in that Raisin Bran. Probably just raisins. But all
along I’ve felt that Wynn’s the man for you.”
“I wish that was true,” she said as she turned to go home. “But it’s not.”
As she opened her own door, she heard LaVonne talking. When she glanced back, she could hear her in a heated conversation
with someone inside the condo. Unfortunately LaVonne was blocking the doorway, so K.O. couldn’t see who it was.
“LaVonne?”
The door opened wider and out stepped Max Jeffries. “Hello, Katherine,” he greeted her, grinning from ear to ear.
K.O. looked at her neighbor and then at Wynn’s father. The last she’d heard, Max was planning to sue LaVonne for everything she had. Somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, he’d changed his mind.
“Max?” she said in an incredulous voice.
He grinned boyishly and placed his arm around LaVonne’s shoulders.
“You see,” LaVonne said, blushing a fetching shade of red. “My psychic talents might be limited, but you’re more talented
than you knew.”