Chapter 18
Eighteen
K.O. was depressed. Even the fact that she’d been hired by Apple Blossom Books as their new publicist hadn’t been enough to
raise her spirits. She was scheduled to start work the day after New Year’s and should’ve been thrilled. She was, only . . .
nothing felt right without Wynn.
It was Christmas Eve and it should have been one of the happiest days of the year, but she felt like staying in bed. Her sister
and family were expecting her later that afternoon, so K.O. knew she couldn’t mope around the condo all day. She had things
to do, food to buy, gifts to wrap, and she’d better get moving.
Putting on her coat and gloves, she walked out of her condo wearing a smile. She refused to let anyone know she was suffering
from a broken heart.
“Katherine,” LaVonne called the instant she saw her. She stood at the lobby mailbox as if she’d been there for hours, just
waiting for K.O. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” K.O. returned a little too brightly. She managed a smile and with her shoulders squared, made her way to the door.
“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” her neighbor called after her.
K.O.’s mouth hurt from holding that smile for so long. She nodded. “I’m joining Zelda, Zach and the girls this evening, and
then I thought I’d spend a quiet Christmas by myself.” Needless to say, she hadn’t issued any invitations, and she’d hardly
seen LaVonne in days. Tomorrow she’d cook for herself. While doing errands this morning, she planned to purchase a small—very
small—turkey. She refused to mope and feel lonely, not on Christmas Day.
“Have dinner with me,” LaVonne said. “It’ll just be me and the boys.”
When K.O. hesitated, she added, “Tom, Phillip and Martin would love to see you. I’m cooking a turkey and all the fixings,
and I’d be grateful for the company.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
K.O. didn’t take long to consider her friend’s invitation. “I’d love to, then. What would you like me to bring?”
“Dessert,” LaVonne said promptly. “Something yummy and special for Christmas.”
“All right.” They agreed on a time and K.O. left, feeling better than she had in days. Just as she was about to step outside,
she turned back.
“How’s Max?” she asked, knowing her neighbor was on good terms with Wynn’s father.
Exactly how good those terms were remained to be seen.
She wondered fleetingly what the Jeffrieses were doing for Christmas, then decided it was none of her business.
Still, the afternoon K.O. had found Max in LaVonne’s condo, she’d been shocked to say the least. Their brief conversation the following day hadn’t been too enlightening but maybe over Christmas dinner LaVonne would tell her what had happened—and what was happening now.
Flustered, LaVonne lowered her eyes as she sorted through a stack of mail that seemed to be mostly Christmas cards. “He’s
completely recovered. And,” she whispered, “he’s apologized to Tom.”
A sense of pleasure shot through K.O. at this . . . and at the way LaVonne blushed. Apparently this was one romance that held
promise. Her own had fizzled out fast enough. She’d come to truly like Wynn. More than like . . . At the thought of him, an
aching sensation pressed down on her. In retrospect, she wished she’d handled the situation differently. Because she couldn’t
resist, she had to ask, “Have you seen Wynn?”
Her friend nodded but the look in LaVonne’s eyes told K.O. everything she dreaded.
“He’s still angry, isn’t he?”
LaVonne gave her a sad smile. “I’m sure everything will work out. I know what I saw in that Raisin Bran.” She attempted a
laugh.
“When you see him again, tell him . . .” She paused. “Tell him,” she started again, then gave up. Wynn had made his feelings
clear. He’d told her it would be best if they didn’t see each other again, and he’d meant it. Nine days with no word told
her he wasn’t changing his mind. Well, she had her pride, too.
“What would you like me to tell him?” LaVonne asked.
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
“You could write him a letter,” LaVonne suggested.
“Perhaps I will,” K.O. said on her way out the door, but she knew she wouldn’t. It was over.
Blossom Street seemed more alive than at any other time she could remember.
A group of carolers performed at the corner, songbooks in their hands.
An elderly gentleman rang a bell for charity outside the French Café, which was crowded with customers.
Seeing how busy the place was, K.O. decided to purchase her Christmas dessert now, before they completely sold out.
After adding a donation to the pot as she entered the café, she stood in a long line. When her turn finally came to order,
she saw that one of the bakers was helping at the counter. K.O. knew Alix Townsend or, at least, she’d talked to her often
enough to know her by name.
“Merry Christmas, K.O.,” Alix said.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” K.O. surveyed the sweet delicacies behind the glass counter. “I need something that says Christmas,”
she murmured. The decorated cookies were festive but didn’t seem quite right. A pumpkin pie would work, but it wasn’t really
special.
“How about a small B?che de Noel,” Alix said. “It’s a traditional French dessert—a fancy cake decorated with mocha cream frosting
and shaped to look like a Yule log. I baked it myself from a special recipe of the owner’s.”
“B?che de Noel,” K.O. repeated. It sounded perfect.
“They’re going fast,” Alix pointed out.
“Sold,” K.O. said as the young woman went to collect one from the refrigerated case. It was then that K.O. noticed Alix’s
engagement ring.
“Will there be anything else?” Alix asked, setting the pink box on the counter and tying it with string.
“That diamond’s new, isn’t it?”
Grinning, Alix examined her ring finger. “I got it last week. Jordan couldn’t wait to give it to me.”
“Congratulations,” K.O. told her. “When’s the wedding?”
Alix looked down at the diamond as if she could hardly take her eyes off it. “June.”
“That’s fabulous.”
“I’m already talking to Susannah Nelson—she owns the flower shop across the street. Jacqueline, my friend, insists we hold
the reception at the Country Club. If it was up to me, Jordan and I would just elope, but his family would never stand for
that.” She shrugged in a resigned way. “I love Jordan, and I don’t care what I have to do, as long as I get to be his wife.”
The words echoed in K.O.’s heart as she walked out of the French Café with a final “Merry Christmas.” She didn’t know Alix
Townsend all that well, but she liked her. Alix was entirely without pretense. No one need doubt how she felt about any particular
subject; she spoke her mind in a straightforward manner that left nothing to speculation.
K.O. passed Susannah’s Garden, the flower shop, on her way to the bank. The owner and her husband stood out front, wishing
everyone a Merry Christmas. As K.O. walked past, Susannah handed her a sprig of holly with bright red berries.
“Thank you—this is so nice,” K.O. said, tucking the holly in her coat pocket. She loved the flower shop and the beauty it
brought to the street.
“I want to let the neighborhood know how much I appreciate the support. I’ve only been in business since September and everyone’s
been so helpful.”
“Here, have a cup of hot cider.” Susannah’s husband was handing out plastic cups from a small table set up beside him. “I’m
Joe,” he said.
“Hello, Joe. I’m Katherine O’Connor.”
Susannah slid one arm around her husband’s waist and gazed up at him with such adoration it was painful for K.O. to watch.
Everywhere she turned, people were happy and in love. A knot formed in her throat. Putting on a happy, carefree face was getting
harder by the minute.
Just then the door to A Good Yarn opened and out came Lydia Goetz and a man K.O. assumed must be her husband. They were accompanied
by a young boy, obviously their son. Lydia paused when she saw K.O.
Lydia was well-known on the street.
“Were you planning to stop in here?” she asked, and cast a quick glance at her husband. “Brad convinced me to close early
today. I already sent my sister home, but if you need yarn, I’d be happy to get it for you. In fact, you could even pay me
later.” She looked at her husband again, as if to make sure he didn’t object to the delay. “It wouldn’t take more than a few
minutes. I know what it’s like to run out of yarn when you only need one ball to finish a project.”
“No, no, that’s fine,” K.O. said. She’d always wanted to learn to knit and now that LaVonne was taking a class, maybe she’d
join, too.
“Merry Christmas!” Lydia tucked her arm in her husband’s.
“Merry Christmas,” K.O. returned. Soon they hurried down the street, with the boy trotting ahead.
Transfixed, K.O. stood there unmoving. The lump that had formed in her throat grew huge.
The whole world was in love, and she’d let the opportunity of her life slip away.
She’d let Wynn go with barely a token protest, and that was wrong.
If she believed in their love, she needed to fight for it, instead of pretending everything was fine without him.
Because it wasn’t. In fact, she was downright miserable, and it was time she admitted it.
She knew what she had to do. Afraid that if she didn’t act quickly, she’d lose her nerve, K.O. ran back across the street
and into her own building. Marching to the elevator, she punched the button and waited.
She wasn’t even sure what she’d tell Wynn; she’d figure that out when she saw him. But seeing him was a necessity. She couldn’t
spend another minute like this. She’d made a terrible mistake, and so had he. If there was any chance of salvaging this relationship,
she had to try.
Her heart seemed to be pounding at twice its normal rate as she rode the elevator up to Wynn’s penthouse condominium. She’d
only been inside once, and then briefly.
By the time she reached his front door, she was so dizzy she’d become light-headed. That didn’t deter her from ringing the