One Charmed Christmas - Sheila Roberts Page 0,72

was in an especially chipper mood, cracking jokes and slipping a possessive arm over the back of Denise’s chair. Denise certainly didn’t seem to mind, not the way she was smiling at him. Sierra was actually managing to smile a little, too, which Catherine hoped meant she had set aside her worries for the moment.

Even Athena looked happy. She had a lovely smile. In fact, she was a nice-looking woman. It was too bad she hadn’t met someone on the cruise.

Catherine said as much to Denise when they went to the dessert table, to choose from the various cakes on display.

“Maybe she would have if she hadn’t been so busy guarding her father,” Denise said. “For a while there I was wondering if the poor guy was even going to be able to go to the men’s room by himself.”

“I can understand her wanting to protect him.”

Denise shook her head. “Kids should keep their noses out of their parents’ love lives.”

“I think it’s kind of sweet that she cares enough to watch out for him.”

“There’s caring and then there’s smothering,” Denise said.

Catherine thought of her own children. No one would accuse either of them of smothering, that was for sure. She hadn’t expected to hear from her son but she had thought maybe she’d at least get a text from Lila. Out of sight, out of mind. She almost felt jealous of Rudy with his overprotective daughter.

After dinner everyone made their way to the lounge for the evening’s festivities. Kurt managed to escape his students and joined Catherine’s group, a glass of beer in hand. Charlie ordered champagne for everyone, but Catherine was too stuffed from dinner, and opted for nursing a club soda. Sierra, she noticed, had gone through several desserts at dinner and quite a bit of wine, and was now digging into the bag of chocolate truffles Trevor had brought to share.

Her good spirits seemed forced, and she was inhaling chocolate like it was a drug. Catherine wondered if she’d gotten another text from her husband.

When Elsa arrived, took the mike and bubbled, “Who is ready for a game?” Sierra excused herself.

“Where are you going?” Sophie asked, her voice threaded with concern.

“To the room. I’m pooped. And I think I shouldn’t have had so much of that chocolate. I need an antacid.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sophie said, and started to get up.

Her sister gave her a gentle shove back into her seat. “I think I can manage to take an antacid by myself.”

“Are you sure?” Sophie asked.

“Yes, I’m sure, you goof. Have fun.”

Sophie watched her go and bit her lip.

“Maybe she needs a little time to herself,” Catherine said gently.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for her to be alone,” Sophie fretted.

“Sometimes you can feel more alone in a crowd of people than by yourself,” Catherine said. She’d heard that before, but never realized how true it was until she became a widow.

Sophie frowned. “Her husband is such a jerk.”

“But she’s got a good sister. Whatever lies ahead, she’ll have you to help her through it,” Catherine said.

“I hope I can. It doesn’t seem right that we’re all having fun and she’s so miserable.”

“It never does.”

Catherine remembered the first time she ventured out of the house after Bill’s memorial service. It hadn’t been much of an outing, just a trip to the supermarket for coffee and yogurt. Inside the store people were pushing carts up and down the aisle, chatting with each other and the clerks at the checkout stands. It had all felt so wrong. Someone had laughed and she’d wanted to shout, “Stop it, all of you!” For her it was the end of the world. For everyone else, business as usual.

Still, she’d survived somehow. She knew Sierra would, too.

“Your sister’s very lucky to have you,” she told Sophie.

“I’m not helping her very much.”

“I bet you’re helping her more than you realize. She knows you’re there for her and that you care. That’s huge. And I’m sure whenever she wants to talk you’re there to listen.”

“Sometimes listening doesn’t seem like much.”

Catherine remembered the times she wanted to reminisce about Bill and got only voice mail when she called her daughter. “It’s more than you realize.”

“Now,” Elsa was saying, “I have papers here with a list of popular songs. All my teams, send someone up to me to get one. Then I want you all to list in order what songs the most people will get up and dance to. I will be counting

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