Brenda Novak - When Snow Falls

“Why settle? You could have cooking, cleaning and decorating.” She smacked the cards on the table. “If you win.”

“I plan on winning,” he confided. “But that would still be settling, since it isn’t what I’d ask for if I could have anything.”

This took Cheyenne by surprise. “What would you ask for?”

He glanced at the sprig of mistletoe Presley had tied to the light fixture over the table. “Peace on earth,” he said with a wink. “So deal.”

7

He was flirting with her. There was no question about that. Cheyenne just didn’t know why. Was he trying to cheer her up? Was he interested in becoming closer friends? Had he stopped by because he’d told his sister that she’d started crying in the grocery store and Gail had asked him to?

He didn’t reveal what he was thinking or feeling, but they talked and laughed and laughed and talked until it grew late. By the time he yawned and said he should go, Cheyenne had lost a lot in tree decorating and cookies, and he wasn’t willing to let her attempt to win it back. All she could do was claim that one day of her baking and tree trimming services was worth an eight-hundred-dollar credit.

“You must be one hell of a Christmas decorator,” he said.

“I am.” She waved toward her only example. “Don’t let that fool you.”

“I’ll suspend my disbelief, for now. You can prove yourself next Saturday.”

“That’s when your girls are coming?”

“That’s when. But we should pick up the tree tomorrow, before all the good ones are gone.”

“We?” She corked the wine bottle since he’d declined a refill.

“I don’t want to buy something you wouldn’t be interested in decorating.”

Eve would, no doubt, find this arrangement odd if she heard about it. That made Cheyenne hesitate. As much as she wanted to spend time with Joe, she had no business doing it. “I’m easy to please.”

“Then why don’t you ever date?”

She shuffled the cards. “Nice segue.”

“I thought so.”

“How do you know I don’t?”

“We live in Whiskey Creek, remember? If you were seeing someone, I’d know about it. Everyone would.”

That was true. So she began searching for excuses. “I’ve been too preoccupied.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

She tried not to laugh. “I was seeing John Kovinski there for a little bit.”

“Not Mr. Kovinski, the school principal…”

“’Fraid so.”

“When was this?”

She pretended she had to think about it, although the answer was on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t see any point in letting him know that she marked the events in her life by how they corresponded to his. “While you were married.” She forced herself to throw in, “I think,” even though she was as positive as she could get.

“That was five years ago!”

“I don’t get out much.”

“Not to mention he’s like…twice your age,” he added with a grimace. “Gail once dated a much older man, too. What’s the appeal?”

“Safety. Security. Companionship.”

“So no threat.”

She chuckled. “Maybe.”

“I must’ve missed the news that you were seeing him.”

Because the relationship hadn’t gone anywhere. They’d dated three times, and made out once. That wasn’t much for even the nosiest people in Whiskey Creek to gossip about.

Joe finished the last of the wine in his glass. “Who else have you dated?”

She put the cards back in the box. “I’ve been preoccupied, like I said. Who have you dated, Mr. DeMarco?”

“Too many girls to count,” he teased.

“Who’s there?” Her mother’s voice, cracked and pleading, came out of the bedroom. “I need my meds! Cheyenne? Presley? Bring me my morphine! Hurry!”

Joe jumped to his feet as if this sudden intrusion into their conversation had startled him. “She okay?”

The distress in her voice could be more than a little unnerving, especially for someone who wasn’t used to it. “Yeah. Don’t worry.”

“Is there anything I can help you do for her?”

“No, I’ve got it.” She took her mother’s painkiller from where she’d hidden it behind the refrigerator.

“That’s where you keep it?” he asked with a perplexed expression.

Because of Presley. But she didn’t want to go into that. “For the moment.”

“Okay.” He didn’t question her further. “I’ll put out the fire while you tend to her.”

She’d expected him to leave. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he felt now that Anita was awake. But her mother was so impatient she had to postpone their goodbye and he seemed willing to wait. “Calm down, Mom, I’m coming!” she called, grabbing a bottle of water in case Anita was thirsty.

“Where’s Presley?” her mother asked as soon as Cheyenne reached her bedside.

“On a date.”

“I heard two voices.”

Cheyenne ignored her obvious disappointment. “She’s not home.”

“Someone’s here!”

“I am,” Cheyenne insisted.

“Besides you.”

“No. No one.” She didn’t want her mother interacting with Joe. That he’d seen her situation at home was bad enough.

“I need to be moved. I can’t—” Anita gasped for breath “—if you could slide me over a bit and…turn me on my other side. My hip is aching.”

Cheyenne tried to do what she’d been asked, but her mother cried out. “You have to pick me up! You can’t shove me!” she shouted, then started moaning and weeping.

Afraid that Joe would hear, Cheyenne lowered her voice. “I wasn’t shoving. I was doing it the way I always do.” The only way she knew how. She wasn’t strong enough to lift Anita as easily as Anita wanted.

“Presley, come help your sister!” her mother called. “Hurry! She’s killing me!”

“Presley’s not home.”

“Yes, she is. I heard her. Presley?”

There was no doubt Anita was in pain. Cheyenne could see it in the hollowness of her eyes. But Cheyenne knew her mother was also being purposely difficult. She wanted Presley, and this gave her an excuse to demand her other daughter’s attention.

“Mom, please,” she said, but a sound at the door told her the noise had succeeded in drawing Joe to the room.

“What is it?” he asked.

Cheyenne could tell he wasn’t sure whether or not he could enter but wanted to help.

With a sigh, she tucked the tendrils of hair that’d fallen from her loose bun behind her ears. “My mom needs to be moved over and onto her right side.”

“I can do that.” He crossed to the bed and lifted her as though she weighed nothing.

Anita was so surprised to see a man in the house she didn’t complain. But she didn’t leave it at “thank you,” either. “Are you sleeping with my daughter?” she asked as he straightened the blankets. “Has someone finally taken her virginity? God, I hope you banged her good. She needs it. Maybe she won’t be so critical of the rest of us once she finds out what she’s been missing.”

Cheyenne’s face flushed hot but she ignored her mother’s vulgarity. “Thanks,” she told Joe. “I’m sure she’ll be fine from here on.”

Also ignoring what Anita had said, Joe mumbled a polite good-night and let Cheyenne walk him to the door. “That isn’t true, is it?” he asked when he’d stepped out on the porch.

“What?” Cheyenne said, but she knew. She just wasn’t sure how to respond.

“That you’ve never slept with anyone?”

She didn’t need his shock to tell her how unusual she was. These days, there weren’t many thirty-one-year-old virgins. Her lack of a sex life wasn’t a subject she wanted other people talking about. But she couldn’t hide who she really was, not from Joe. “Yes.”