Page 50 of Promise Me This Christmas
“There’s nothing pressing at work.That’s a terrific idea.What do you think, Jo?Can you handle this crowd?”
Jo pointed out the window.“There’s Shelley, almost at the door.And Ella will be here in an hour.We’re fine.Get outside and have some fun.”
*
“How’s the bookcoming along, Gran?”Larkin asked.She’d taken her grandmother back to the Mable Bramble suite to do some stretching exercises on the floor to help her back.Now she helped her gran back to her feet.
It had been a relief to leave the breakfast table.She was still so angry with Carson she didn’t dare look at him.The other guests hadn’t helped.They all seemed to be a little cranky, which was odd.Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be a happy time?
“Oh, the book is marvelous,” Gran said.“I’ve only got a few chapters left.”
Larkin could tell she was dying to get back to it.
“Where would you like to read?In your room or the library?”
“I do enjoy the library.That way I get to watch the comings and goings.What about you, dear?Now that your article is finished what would you like to do?”
“I was thinking of checking on your house.”She needed to make sure it would be ready for her grandmother to move in to on the twenty-fifth.It would be the best gift her grandmother could get, being able to spend Christmas night in her own home.Larkin hoped the transition went smoothly.She needed to know her grandmother was going to be okay before she could fly back to her life in Denver.
Which she was anxious to do, she told herself.
“That’s a good idea.You and Carson need to have a long talk about whatever it is that’s upsetting you.”
Of course her grandmother would have noticed the tension between them.Larkin felt she owed her an explanation.“He tried to tell me what to write about in my article.”
“Oh?Was he worried you would mention the brownies?”
“Yes.And the mouse in the bathtub.And the overbaked cookies.Basically he’s afraid I’m going to report that standards at Bramble House are slipping, when obviously what is happening is some prankster is making trouble for Amy and Chet.”
“Yes, I’ve been thinking the same thing.But who would want to hurt Amy and Chet and Bramble House?”
“I’m not sure, Gran.If only someone had noticed who it was who put out those brownies.”
“Hopefully whoever it was is finished having their fun,” Gran said, her mouth pursing at the word “fun.”“In the meantime, I wouldn’t be too hard on Carson.He’s protective of his sister, and that’s an admirable thing.You’ll work this out.Just talk.That’s always the key.”
Larkin wanted to take her grandmother’s advice, but as she plowed her way along the snowy sidewalks toward her grandmother’s house, her anger at Carson only grew.
What had he been up to this week, claiming he still had romantic feelings for her?He sure wasn’t planning to leave his ranch and move to Denver.No, he’d expect her to drop her life and everything she’d worked for to be with him.
But she didn’t need a man who felt he had to punch out her adversaries or believed he had the right to control what she did and what she said.She was a trained journalist.An intelligent professional capable of exercising good judgment.But obviously he didn’t see her that way.
Like her grandmother, she did believe in communicating to resolve differences, but what was the point in trying to work out things with Carson?He was still in love with the girl she’d been at eighteen.Not the independent and strong woman she’d become nine years later.
She wasn’t surprised to see his truck parked outside her grandmother’s house.Carson wouldn’t renege on his commitment, no matter how sideways their relationship had gone.She wasn’t impervious to his good qualities.He had many.
She let herself in through the back door, parking her snowy boots on the large rubber mat next to the duck boots her grandmother used for gardening.Country music was playing from her grandmother’s old radio and beyond that, scraping sounds were coming from the bathroom.She rounded the corner and, through the plastic dust barrier, saw Carson on his knees, applying something with a trowel-like implement.
“That you, Larkin?”he asked without turning his head.She could see now that he was applying a gray shade of grout to the spaces between the tiles.A smear of the grout was on the thigh of his jeans, another dab was on his strong chin.
“Yup.”She moved closer, parting the plastic curtain between them.“The grout looks good.Is that the final step?”
“It still needs to be sealed, which I plan to do tomorrow.And then I’m done.”
He made the words sound very final.Like it wasn’t just the job he’d be finished with.
“Areyouupset withme?”
“Is that so hard to understand?”
