sister. “Let’s have a baking day tomorrow.”
“We’ll be jet-lagged,” Sierra protested.
“We won’t be jet-lagged all day.”
“Maybe later in the week. I need to spend some time with Mark.”
Sophie pressed her lips into a tight line.
Sierra turned her head, pretending to look around at their fellow travelers, and took a surreptitious swipe at the corners of her eyes. Poor kid. Trevor hoped she’d be able to work out her problems with her husband.
“Gosh, I hate waiting for planes,” she said after a moment, turning back to him. “I imagine you two will have to take a Horizon Air to Portland after we land,” she said. “That’ll make a long day for you, won’t it?” So, chin up and subject rerouted from the husband to air travel.
“It will for Kurt and his class,” Trevor said. “I’ve got my car waiting.”
“That sounds more exhausting than being on a plane.”
“But that’s the price you pay for being a jet-setter, right?”
“Yeah, that’s you, Mr. Workaholic,” teased his brother.
“You’re looking at a new me,” Trevor told him. He could easily picture himself seeing more of the world with Sophie.
“I wouldn’t mind being a jet-setter,” Sierra said. “Maybe I’ll see Paris next year if...” She cut herself off.
“If you can get the time off,” her sister supplied. “I’ll go with you.”
“You so will not,” Sierra said firmly. “You should wait and go with someone special,” she said, and managed a smile for Trevor.
Yep, a class act. Trevor liked Sierra.
But he was crazy about Sophie. Looked like he’d be making a lot of weekend trips to Seattle in the new year.
Kurt had just left for the bathroom when Harriet plopped onto his vacated seat next to Trevor. Déjà vu all over again.
“Have you got any chocolate left?” she asked.
“Afraid not. It’s all gone.”
“That sucks,” she said. “Your chocolate’s better than anything we had on the cruise.” She looked to his other side where Sophie sat talking with her sister. “But your taste in women is so trite.”
Yep, that was him, trite. “What can I say, Harriet? I’m under the influence of propinquity.” And he intended to be under the influence a whole lot more in the new year.
17
Emptiness greeted Catherine when she walked back into her house, dragging her suitcase and carry-on. She felt as if she’d stepped into a museum as a dispassionate observer of someone else’s life.
The living room was filled with artifacts from Christmases past. The tree was decked out with ornaments she had collected over the years. Some the kids had made, either with her supervision or in school.
Framed holiday photos sat on top of the entertainment cabinet. One was of her with Santa when she was pregnant with William and beaming like a woman waiting to receive a special award. Another was of both the kids with Santa when they were small. And there was her favorite family portrait, one Bill had taken of all of them in front of the tree when the kids were in grade school. It had been a lighthearted moment. He’d barely made it back into the picture before the timer on the camera went off, tripping over a present on his way. The camera had caught all of them in midlaugh.
She’d arranged some flicker candles and fake greens along the fireplace mantel but the only stockings hanging there were hers and Bill’s, the ones she’d made from red felt the first year they were married. The kids had taken their stockings when they moved out and seeing those two stockings was depressing. Bill was gone and she was the lone survivor here in the Pine residence.
She sighed and towed her suitcases into the bedroom. Then she pulled back the bedspread, flopped on the bed and fell asleep. Jet lag had its benefits. It saved a woman from thinking of all the good times that had ended.
She woke up at eleven to a very silent night. These were the times when being alone always hit her hardest, late at night, when she had no daytime activities to distract her.
She knew she wouldn’t get back to sleep so she got up, showered and put on the flannel pajamas her daughter had given her for Christmas the year before. Then she went to the kitchen and made herself some hot chocolate. It made her think of the little beverage bar on the ship.
She pulled the carry-on where she’d stored all the presents she’d purchased in Germany back into the living room and opened it. It was a holiday treasure trove