Chapter Eight #3
Mrs. Rockwell watched her son affectionately.
“Last year he shows up on my doorstep bright and early Christmas morning needing gift wrap. Then, once he’s got all his presents wrapped, he walks into my kitchen—” her face crinkled in a wide grin “—and he sticks all those presents in my refrigerator.” She smiled at the memory.
“For his brother, he bought two canned hams and three gallons of ice cream. For me it was cat food and a couple of rib roasts.”
Breakfast was a bustling affair, with Joe’s younger brother, his wife and their children gathered around the table. Joe sat next to Cait and held her hand while his mother offered the blessing. Although she wasn’t home with her own family, Cait felt she had a good deal for which to be thankful.
Conversation was pleasant and relaxed, but foremost on the children’s minds was opening the gifts. The table was cleared and plates and bowls arranged inside the dishwasher in record time.
Cait sat beside Joe, holding a cup of coffee, as the oldest grandchild handed out the presents. While Christmas music played softly in the background, the children tore into their packages. The youngest, a two-year-old girl, was more interested in the box than in the gift itself.
When Joe came to the square package Cait had given him, he shook it enthusiastically.
“Be careful, it might break,” she warned, knowing there was no chance of that happening.
Carefully he removed the bows, then unwrapped his gift. Cait watched expectantly as he lifted the book from the layers of bright paper. “A book on baseball?”
Cait nodded, smiling. “As I recall, you used to collect baseball cards.”
“I ended up trading away my two favorites.”
“I’m sure it was for a very good reason.”
“Of course.”
Their eyes held until it became apparent that everyone in the room was watching them. Cait glanced self-consciously away.
Joe cleared his throat. “This is a great gift, Cait. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome very much.”
He leaned over and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt right, their kiss. If anything, Cait was sorry to stop at one.
“Surely you have something for Cait,” Virginia Rockwell prompted her son.
“You bet I do.”
“He’s probably keeping it in the refrigerator,” Cait suggested, to the delight of Joe’s family.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he said, removing a box from his shirt pocket.
“I recognize that paper,” Sally, Joe’s sister-in-law, murmured to Cait. “It’s from Stanley’s.”
Cait’s eyes widened at the name of an expensive local jewelry store. “Joe?”
“Go ahead and open it,” he urged.
Cait did, hands fumbling in her eagerness. She slipped off the ribbon and peeled away the gold textured wrap to reveal a white jeweler’s box. It contained a second box, a small black velvet one, which she opened very slowly. She gasped at the lovely cameo brooch inside.
“Oh, Joe,” she whispered. It was a lovely piece carved in onyx and overlaid with ivory. She’d longed for a cameo, a really nice one, for years and wondered how Joe could possibly have known.
“You gonna kiss Uncle Joe?” his nephew, Charlie, asked, “’Cause if you are, I’m not looking.”
“Of course she’s going to kiss me,” Joe answered for her. “Only she can do it later when there aren’t so many curious people around.” He glanced swiftly at his mother. “Just the way Mom used to thank Dad for her Christmas gift. Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“I’m sure Cait... will,” Virginia answered, clearly flustered. She patted her hand against the side of her head as though she feared the pins had fallen from her hair, her eyes downcast.
Cait didn’t blame the older woman for being embarrassed, but one look at the cameo and she was willing to forgive Joe anything.
The day flew past. After the gifts were opened—with everyone exclaiming in surprised delight over the gifts Joe had bought, with Cait’s help—the family gathered around the piano.
Mrs. Rockwell played as they sang a variety of Christmas carols, their voices loud and cheerful.
Joe’s father had died several years earlier, but he was mentioned often throughout the day, with affection and love.
Cait hadn’t known him well, but the family obviously felt Andrew Rockwell’s presence far more than his absence on this festive day.
Joe drove Cait back to her apartment late that night. Mrs. Rockwell had insisted on sending a plate of cookies home with her, and Cait swore it was enough goodies to last her a month of Sundays. Now she felt sleepy and warm; leaning her head against the seat, she closed her eyes.
“We’re here,” Joe whispered close to her ear.
Reluctantly Cait opened her eyes and sighed. “I had such a wonderful day. Thank you, Joe.” She couldn’t quite stifle a yawn as she reached for the door handle, thinking longingly of bed.
“That’s it?” He sounded disappointed.
“What do you mean, that’s it?”
“I seem to remember a certain promise you made this morning.”
Cait frowned, not sure she understood what he meant. “When?”
“When we were opening the gifts,” he reminded her.
“Oh,” Cait said, straightening. “You mean when I opened your gift to me and saw the brooch.”
Joe nodded with exaggerated emphasis. “Right. Now do you remember?”
“Of course.” The kiss. He planned to claim the kiss she’d promised him. She brushed her mouth quickly over his and grinned. “There.”
“If that’s the best you can do, you should’ve kissed me in front of Charlie.”
“You’re faulting my kissing ability?”
“Charlie’s dog gives better kisses than that.”
Cait felt more than a little insulted. “Is this a challenge, Joseph Rockwell?”
“Yes,” he returned archly. “You’re darn right it is.”
“All right, then you’re on.” She set the plate of cookies aside, slid closer and slipped her arms around Joe’s neck. Next she wove her fingers into his thick hair.
“This is more like it,” Joe murmured contentedly.
Cait paused. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because she’d suddenly lost all interest in making fun out of something that had always been so wonderful between them.
Joe’s eyes met hers, and the laughter and fun in them seemed to disappear. Slowly he expelled his breath and brushed his lips along her jaw. The warmth of his breath was exciting as his mouth skimmed toward her temple. His arms closed around her waist and he pulled her tight against him.
Impatiently he began to kiss her, introducing her to a world of warm, thrilling sensations. His mouth then explored the curve of her neck. It felt so good that Cait closed her eyes and experienced a curious weightlessness she’d never known—a heightened awareness of physical longing.
“Oh, Cait...” He broke away from her, his breathing labored and heavy. She knew instinctively that he wanted to say more, but he changed his mind and buried his face in her hair, exhaling sharply.
“How am I doing?” she whispered once she found her voice.
“Just fine.”
“Are you ready to retract your statement?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. Convince me again.” So she did, her kiss moist and gentle, her heart fluttering against her ribs.
“Is that good enough?” she asked when she’d recovered her breath.
Joe nodded, as though he didn’t quite trust his own voice. “Excellent.”
“I had a wonderful day,” she whispered. “I can’t thank you enough for including me.”
Joe shook his head lightly. There seemed to be so much more he wanted to say to her and couldn’t.
Cait slipped out of the car and walked into her building, turning on the lights when she entered her apartment.
She slowly put away her things, wanting to wrap this feeling around her like a warm quilt.
Minutes later, she glanced out her window to see Joe still sitting in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head bent.
It looked to Cait as though he was battling with himself to keep from following her inside. She would have welcomed him if he had.